Hi! So I wrote a one-shot, which I think is total crap, but hey, it's my first time =). I guess that's what you get when you write it at 3 AM. So…please be nice? This is my first time ever publishing something that I wrote. And…yay moliver fluff! Fun fact: I had this idea since before the writers chose loliver. You'll see what I mean when you read it. But, I found that very ironic. Ok, enough rambling. Enjoy! ~Me

Last First Kiss

The familiar chime of the doorbell rang throughout the house, and the brunette suddenly dropped her pen and flew to the door, only to have a beachy blonde stumble her way in, large duffle bag in hand. Miley knew better than to laugh at Lilly's clumsiness, but lost it when she toppled over, falling headfirst into the sleeping bag that she also brought with her.

It had been a while since Miley and Lilly, forever best friends, had last had a sleepover. What with Miley's global Hannah tour and Lilly's college visits, friendship time had been scarce. But with the arrival of summer vacation, the last of their high school careers, they had all the time in the world for each other. And that's exactly what they wanted.

A few hours passed, a movie watched, a pizza eaten, pajamas worn, a mess created, and now the two girls were sitting on the living room floor, an array of nail polishes lined up on the coffee table. Miley offered to paint Lilly's nails first, so she grabbed a handful of colors from the coffee table and sprawled them out in front of Lilly, welcoming the clink that came when one bottle hit the other. "Pick a color, any color."

"Uh…" Lilly sat silent for a few moments, as if the choice in her nail polish color would create some life-changing situation for her. "Let's pick…this reddish color. Which color do you want?" she asked as she took the glass bottle out of Miley's hands, swirling it around, watching as the colors spun in circles.

Miley was quick in choosing hers. She dropped the bottles in her hand and pointed her naked nail to a violent, emerald green that stood out amongst the rest. "This one." It was her favorite, her default, her comfort color, her idea of beautiful.

Miley delicately placed the bottle to her side, patted it in an overprotective way, took the red and twisted the cap open, delicately pulling out the brush, so as not to get any extra drops to fall. As a few moments passed and the official manicuring began, Lilly stated straightforwardly, "You know, I realized we've been friends for over five years."

"Mmhmm" Miley mumbled, teeth clenched as she concentrated on making sure each line painted was perfect.

Lilly continued, "And we have yet to talk about one thing."

"Whazzat?"

"Who was your first kiss?" Lilly asked just as bluntly.

Miley's stomach dropped, a sudden pit falling in the back, thus making her lose focus, thus having her paint an unwanted red line down Lilly's middle finger. "Oh…"

"Yeah. You never realized that? So, who was yours?"

"Uh…why don't you tell me first, you…uh…sorta caught me off guard."

"That's no problem. Well, it's sorta embarrassing, but…you know what, forget it."

"No, tell me. You've finally got my undivided attention." Miley leaned in; her piercing eyes locked with Lilly's, open as if waiting to take in this unknown information.

"Well…it was Mattinthesixthgradeattheskatepark."

"Wait, what?"

"See!" Lilly's all too infamous squeal let loose. "I told you it was embarrassing."

"No, it was because it was so fast that if you went and fast forwarded it, it would sound the same."

"I said it was…" Lilly hesitated. "Matt in the sixth grade. At the skate park. It was awful; we were both sweaty and I was twelve and was confused…you know, it being the first time and everything…and…we collided heads…well, the helmets sorta saved us from a concussion, but, it was awful. And the reason I was in love with him until sophomore year."

"Aww, no, that's cute."

"Yeah, if you like the smell of armpit when you kiss, along with your mom watching from the parking lot with a camera, sure. Well, what was yours?"

"My what?"

"First kiss."

"Oh." Miley didn't say anything. Instead, she closed her eyes, leaned her head back onto the couch, and drifted back to the end of seventh grade, when spring had finished its transition into summer, although in Malibu, it didn't make much of a difference…

A thirteen-year-old Miley impatiently sat on the bench next to Oliver, who was busy scarfing down the last bit of cake he could find on his paper plate, a look of disgust etched on her face. When he finally finished, Miley sung a praise of hallelujah and grabbed his hand, struggling to leave.

"Thanks for inviting us to your party Danny!" She yelled as she dragged Oliver off.

"Thanks for coming! Tell Lilly I'm sorry!" And the two quickly left, the faint sounds of Danny scratching his head becoming a distant echo.

And so the duo walked, taking their secret route to Rico's the shack where Jackson recently found work. Because Jackson was totally the laborious type. Well, you could believe that, or know that Billy Ray threatened to have him work at the hair salon down the street. Hair products were cheaper with an employee discount, you know.

Miley was finally the one to break the silence, one that was awkward upon realizing that she was still holding onto Oliver's hand. Quickly letting go, she said, "You know, it's a shame Lilly had to go home early. I tried to convince her to not eat those fish tacos. They smelled nasty. Why would Dandruff Danny even think of serving them at a party?"

"Really? I ate it, and I'm perfectly fine."

"Well Oliver, that's because God gave you a strong stomach. Who knows what's been in there."

Oliver proudly patted his stomach. "That's the one thing I pride myself in. My stomach of gold."

"Yeah, at least you don't pride yourself in your brain. Then we'd have a problem. It's a stomach of iron, and a heart of gold, genius."

"Then what would your kidneys be?"

"Does it matter?"

"Can it be cobalt?"

"Sure Oliver, it's whatever you want it to be."

"No, how about copper, no, zinc! No, how about lead!"

"Oliver, I'm pretty sure you don't want to have an organ made out of lead."

By this time, Miley and Oliver arrived at the beach, their conversation distracting them to come to a more secluded area, where the boardwalk ended and greenery seemed to multiply.

"Do you know where we are Oliver?"

"No."

"Great, thanks for the help."

The place was deserted, and the two were there alone. The breeze was their only sound, whispers being their other invisible companion.

"So…what should we do?"

"Uh…let's play a game."

"A game? Oliver, we're almost fourteen, I think we're a little old for games."

"No, this one's fun."

"Oh, I'm excited to hear about this one."

"It's one of those, 'let's get to know each other games.' Like, we'll ask a favorite, and we both say ours."

"That's not a game Oliver. That's just an icebreaker."

"Please?" Oliver asked with a puppy face. Dammit, Miley thought, he knew that's what grabbed her in, every time. She reluctantly replied, "Fine. But let's sit down. My legs are tired for walking so much."

Miley pointed over to a group of rocks to the right. "Let's sit there. That way, we won't get sand crabs."

"What are you talking about? Sand crabs don't exist. They're like the Lost Tex Monster."

"Don't you mean the Loch Ness Monster?"

"No, that one actually exists."

"Oh my God, you're hopeless."

The two sat Indian-style on a large, flattened rock opposite each other. Oliver said, "Ok, I'll choose a category first. How about…favorite soda?"

"That's easy. Sprite."

"Me too!"

"Sweet!"

"Literally!"

Miley rolled her eyes, but in that joking way, so as not to offend him. "Ok, um, how about…favorite singer."

A goofy grin began to carve itself onto Oliver's face. "Hannah Montana." He gushed. "She sounds like an angel every time she opens her mouth."

Miley held back a smile. If he only knew. "Uh, Kelly Clarkson."

"Meh…she's okay."

"Whatever." Miley giggled.

"Let's see, how about, favorite color?"

"Green."

"Did you know your eyes are green?"

"No they're not."

Oliver leaned dangerously close. Miley stiffened and held her breath. "Yeah they are."

Miley jumped and got off the rock. "No…I'm pretty sure they're blue."

Oliver followed suite, hopping off the rock, choosing to lean against it instead. Pushing his hair back, he started, "Well, if you wanna be technical, they're like a blue, green, gray mix. You should invent a color for it, you know. Like scmirglflagen. And if someone asks you what color your eyes are, you can just be like, 'They're scmirglflagen. Jealous?' Because they're that unique and…pretty."

Miley nervously took her hair out its ponytail, opting to spin her curls around her fingers instead. "You think my eyes are pretty?"

"Yeah. No one else has scmirglflagen eyes you know. And they're not just a cool color. They sparkle. So your eyes are a sparkly scmirglflagen."

"Thanks." Miley felt the heat of embarrassment arrive and burn her cheeks.

"You're pretty lucky. My eyes are brown. The best compliment I can get is like, 'Wow, your eyes are such a pretty shade of crap.' And I'm like, 'Thanks dude.'"

"No," Miley leaned in, supportively holding Oliver's arm, "they have these nice flecks of darker brown in them. At least your eyes are describable. Yours are…the perfect shade of chocolate. The one that isn't too sweet, but not too bitter, a perfect cross of milk and dark."

"Yeah, but yours are scmirglflagen."

"Yours are chocolate! You win!"

"You got your own color!"

"Yours are…perfect! That's your most attractive quality!" Miley lost control, her lips an open door for her unedited thoughts, "Did you know I'm a sucker for brown eyes? I could just…"

Oliver was scared. At this point, Miley had pinned both of his arms down and was freakishly close. Her scmirglflagen eyes were closer than ever, a perfect contrast with her wild brown curls that framed her face oh so delicately. He wasn't so nervous anymore. Now, he wanted Miley to move in closer.

Yet he still squeaked, "Just…what?"

"You're such a donut." And with that, she slammed him against the rock, and pressed her glossed lips against his, shutting her eyes and welcoming the butterflies that were partying in her stomach. Oliver kept his eyes open in shock, but after the first millisecond passed, he closed them as well, and struggled to put his hands on Miley's waist. But they were still locked.

The awkward position, a contrast to the perfectly poised kiss, lasted an innocent seven seconds before Miley finally broke out of the embrace. She knew how long it lasted, in the back of her head, away from all the lightheadedness and the ways to welcome the drop that came in the back of her stomach, she counted the mississippis. She wanted to remember her first kiss, every detail, especially how long it lasted. That quickly fleeted however, when she anxiously looked into Oliver's perfect brown eyes that so tempted her in the first place.

"Uh…"

"Uh…"

"Was that your first?"

"Yeah, you?"

"Hell naw!"

"Oliver!"

"Fine, yeah. But I liked it."

"Me too."

"…"

"…"

"So…we'll never talk about this again?"

"Totally. Especially to Lilly."

"God knows how much she'll freak if she ever finds out."

"So…"

"Did you know fish tacos and watermelon make a really good combination?"

"Ok, eww."

"What? Your lip gloss tasted good."

"Whatever happened to never mentioning it? Way to go no more than fifteen seconds."

"Fine. Did you know my favorite color's green also?"

"Now is it?"

"Miley? Miley? Miley!" The distant voice got louder and clearer with every repetition. Lilly waved her hand in front of her face.

"Huh?"

"You zoned out for a couple of minutes there. So…was your first kiss really that good? Tellmetellmetellme!" Lilly bounced, shaking Miley in her spasm.

Miley quickly fibbed, "Oh, girl, you were there. It was when Jake kissed me, before leaving for Romania. Nothing special."

Lilly's face became one of disappointment. "Darn. Well, guess that's it. We now know everything about each other. C'mon, let's finish our nails."

"Yeah, sure." Miley leaned in to finish Lilly's left hand before the doorbell rang. Again, Miley jumped, and again, a red line found its way onto Lilly's skin. "Not again!" she cried, grabbing a cotton ball to wipe it off.

Miley hastily got up and opened the door, only to come across none other than Oliver, who smiled sheepishly.

"Oliver!" Lilly ran over to the front door and grabbed him in a tight embrace, Miley quickly moving to the side to give them room.

"Just wanted to give my girl a goodnight kiss." And the two leaned in. Miley had grown immune to this over the months, but it was still a pain to watch. The oh-so-recurring drop in her stomach returned yet again. But she refused to show it, let along accept it.

When the couple separated, Miley concluded: three mississippis. That's how long it lasted. No kiss ever lasted longer than four mississippis for them. Miley counted every time. She held tightly to her green nail polish, trying to fight back the undeniable drop in her stomach, as it fought its way to plummet yet again.

"So, I guess I'm off then. Hey, what were you guys talking about before I came?"

Lilly responded, "Oh, just our first kisses."

Oliver's eyebrows rose, looking over at Miley, who had made her way over to the top of the mini-staircase, arms crossed and leaning coolly against the wall. "Oh really?'

"Yeah. Remember? Mine was with Jake."

"What? Oh…yeah…yeah, it was, wasn't it? I'm just gonna go now, see you later."

"Bye Ollie-pop"

"Bye."

As Oliver left, he glanced longingly back one last time, not to his girlfriend, but to the girl on the other side of the room. The chocolate eyes locked with the scmirglflagen, but just for a split second, before he finally left, closing the door behind him.

And there went the inevitable drop, once again. One of pain, of jealousy, of longing. One that arrived every time she looked, or even thought about that damn donut.

Miley kept thinking about this, dazed, even when Jackson ran down the stairs, almost knocking Miley down in the process. But she didn't seem to notice. But Lilly did.

"Hey, Jackson."

"'Sup?"

"Nothing." Lilly simply said, a smirk arriving on her face. If only Miley knew about her real first kiss, one that happened backstage at a Hannah concert, one with a certain older brother during an unexpected sugar rush. But she could never know.