Disclaimer: I stake claim to High School Musical. You better be thankful for small favors.
A/N: I don't know what I had the urge to write a sequel to All For The Taking, but oh well, here it is. Also, if you haven't read all for the taking, I suggest you read it first to better understand what is going on in this one-shot. Thank you for the success of All For The Taking and to all the people who reviewed. Oh yes, and this is set before HSM2, so as far as this fic is concerned, there was no HSM2
WARNING! Very, Very dark theme. It should probably be rated M for sexual themes and the use of the F-word a couple of times, but the original was rated T, so I wanted this one to be as well. If you think I should bump the rating, don't report me, just tell me and I will. Thanks!
Ja ne!
Winning the War
The sound of the crowd moving nosily to take their seats could be heard from backstage, muffled only by the heavy curtain that obstructed them from view. He stood leaning in a familiar position against the backstage wall, his thumbs hooked into the rim of his black slacks, his expression showing perfectly rehearsed anticipation as any light that shimmered in the dark area reflected off of his sparkling, teal shirt.
He waited for the show to begin.
Waited for yet another night of the same lines and the same songs that should have belonged to him only to be delivered and sung by someone who he certainly was not. He inwardly sneered at the thought.
"Evans!" His head snapped in the direction of the voice, noting that it was the currently very frazzled stage manager who had addressed him. He allowed a polite and deceivingly bright smile to cross his lips as he adjusted his hat away from his blue eyes.
"Yes?" He questioned, the smile never leaving his face as he took a small step towards the stressed out girl, holding out his hands in an almost defensive way. "Ok, Julia, just take a deep breath will you?" His hands clasped onto he shoulders, noting immediately how they relaxed under his touch. Julia closed her eyes and inhaled deeply before letting out a shuddering breath. She smiled slowly after a minute.
"Thanks Ryan, I needed that." She admitted, sounding genuinely grateful.
"What can I say, I'm a nice guy." He could barely hold back the smirk at that piece of shit comment. "Now what's up?" He asked kindly, cocking his head to the side for good measure.
"I need you to go get Troy and tell him to be in places in twenty. There's so much going on here, Sharpay's outfit snagged and is now missing a button, and you know how she freaks out! I just don't have the time, and you didn't seem to be doing anything, since you're already in costume." She finished off with a huff, running her hands through her frizzed, mousy hair.
At the mention of that person's name, his smile almost dropped, and he could feel the beginning of a sneer tugging up at the corners of his lips, but he stopped at the last second.
If there was thing Ryan was good at, it was saving face.
After all, he was a damn fine actor.
Instead his grin widened even more as he turned kind eyes on the girl. "Not a problem, Julia." The girl gave him a curt nod before rushing off to yell at a boy who had dropped a backlight.
He turned on heel, his tap shoes clicking on the linoleum floor as he made his way down a winding hall and towards the male's dressing room that both he and Bolton shared. He didn't even bother knocking as he swung open the wood door, not surprised to find a shirtless and pantless Bolton running around in a state of distress.
Troy jumped at the sound of the door opening and turned sharply in Ryan's direction. Seeing who it was he quickly moved to cover himself.
"Don't you think that you could maybe knock next time?" Troy stated breathlessly, blowing some bangs away from his eyes. Ryan's own eyes narrowed slightly at Troy's actions.
He knew what this was.
The way Troy moved to cover himself up. The way he looked at him almost suspiciously, clearly uncomfortable with being so exposed in his presence. It wasn't hard to figure out. It was one thing to break the stereotype of the basketball king auditioning for a school musical. Homophobia was a different ball park all together.
"What, think I'm going to jump your bones right here?" Ryan questioned flatly, examining his nails in the process, only lifting his eyes to take in Troy's flabbergasted expression.
"What! No, no, I was just…" Troy spluttered, turning a deep shade of red.
"It's alright to strip in front of your basketball cronies, but the queer will surely molest you." Ryan pressed on rather bluntly, stepping further into the room.
When he was alone with Troy he felt no real need to put up the flamboyant nice guy front. Troy meant too little and too much at the same time to waste the charade on.
So, he didn't try to fake it for Troy.
But he didn't try to fake it for her either.
"That's not it at all, Ryan. Don't twist things around." Troy insisted, continuing his quest of searching for what it was that he needed to find, and yet, the spare material that he had used to cover himself stayed securely in place.
"Oh really?" Ryan said, brightening his tone considerably. "I'm sorry, I don't know what came over me. Someone like you wouldn't really think that way. Not Troy Bolton…" Ryan trailed off, an almost serene smile spreading over his angelic features. "Well and that case, here, let me help you get dressed. We are on soon, and you're a mess." Ryan offered innocently, stepping forward to pull the material from Troy's hands.
"No!…I-I mean, I can do it." Troy took a step away from Ryan, almost looking like a caged animal.
"But we need to hurry." Ryan insisted, his smile spreading wider and wider with each step that he took. He reached out to grab for the material once more, but Troy quickly jumped out of his reach.
"I don't want you to touch me, Ryan!" Troy blurted out, blushing a deep shade of red immediately afterwards. Ryan let his hands drop to his sides, before throwing his head back and letting out a harsh bark of laughter.
"I knew it." He mused, sounding almost pleased with the situation as Troy turned away from him, obviously trying to escape his scrutinizing gaze. Ryan clapped his hands together in mock appreciation and instead of Troy turning another shade of red, he straightened up, turning fully away from Ryan and continued on about his business as if nothing that had previously just happened had actually occurred.
"Could you leave, Evans. I would like to finish getting ready for the show without you here." Troy said dismissively, not even looking at Ryan.
All hint of a smile was gone from Ryan's face instantly. Troy had hit the right nail, because Ryan Evans took enough shit as it was. He took it from his sister who ordered him around as if he were some lapdog for her amusement. He took it from the idiots who went to this school, who called him a fag in hushed voices and shoved him into lockers when the teachers weren't looking, and he took it from Bolton, who had taken everything away from him and still managed to smile kindly in the process. He could take all of that, but he couldn't and wouldn't take dismissal. He was not going to be ignored, especially by the glorified basketball God, Troy Bolton.
The straw snapped.
The dam broke.
His smirk returned.
There was no holding back now.
It was time to win the war.
"Don't you worry your pretty little head, Bolton. You're not my type anyways. I am more into the short, cute ones. With the long, curly black hair and big dark brown eyes to compliment that pretty skin." He stated, his fingers idly drawing nonsensical designs at his makeup station, his eyes firmly planted on Troy's back. The other boy tensed instantly. The reaction was subtle, but it was there.
Seemingly not caring that Ryan was in the room anymore, Troy hurried to get on his costume, not even fully buttoning his shirt before he headed for the door, stepping swiftly into the deserted hallway outside. "I have a show to do." Troy stated in a clipped tone, his meaning obvious underneath his words, but Ryan be damned if he'd let Troy win. So as the other boy began to turn to walk towards the door that led to backstage, Ryan quickly followed him out, speaking only loud enough so that Troy would hear.
"Do you want to know what she's like in bed?"
Abruptly Ryan's back was pressed none too gently against the wall, Troy clutching tightly to the front of his shirt.
"What the fuck is that supposed to mean?" Troy hissed, the anger shining clearly in his brown eyes.
"Tsk tsk, Bolton. Who knew you used such foul language." Ryan teased, shaking his head in mock disapproval, clearly unfazed by the fact that Troy had him shoved up against a wall.
"Answer me!" Troy demanded, tightening his fist further into the fabric of Ryan's shirt, and the blonde boy could swear that he heard a rip.
"Well, I thought that we could compare notes. See if how she is with you matches up with how she is with me." He answered innocently, his lips turning up in the hint of a friendly smile, and it would have been all so perfect if it weren't for the sheer venom of the words that were falling effortlessly from his mouth. "Oh, but wait, you wouldn't know would you, Bolton? You think she's some saintly little virgin, and every time she tells you to wait, that she isn't ready, is just leading up to some special event where she gives something so sacred to you and you don't even notice that she's already given it to me." He leaned in close to Troy's ear, not caring of the consequences that may follow. "Many, many times."
Troy's hands were shaking almost violently and Ryan wasn't sure if it was from rage or shock, but either way he thought it was beautiful. "You're lying." Troy whispered, his voice trembling along with the rest of his body.
"Am I now?" Ryan let out a cruel chuckle in the quiet air. "Did you know that she has this cute little birthmark on her left thigh, almost in the shape of a pear? Or that she makes the most beautiful noises when you kiss this one spot on her neck…"
Troy let out an enraged cry as he raised his fist to punch Ryan, but his hesitation was enough for Ryan to cut in. "Are you going to punch me now? You, Troy Bolton, is going to really punch the poor defenseless fag? What would your fans say? What would they think of the perfect, kind, adorable golden boy then?"
Troy slowly lowered his fist, but did not let go of Ryan just yet. "Stay away from her." He threatened in a low voice, his eyes cast downwards.
"What really bothers you? The fact that I've had her underneath me? Or the fact that she always comes running back to you like the good little girlfriend, promising that she's saving herself just for you?" Troy's eyes shot up to look at him, and Ryan held his gaze unwaveringly, all hint of playfulness gone completely.
"Shut up…" Troy whispered, his teeth clenching involuntarily as he fought for control.
"Or maybe, it's the fact that every time her lips part in sounds that you only wish you could hear she always, always says my name."
"I said shut up!" Ryan felt his head crack against the wall as Troy hit him, his vision clouding for an instant, before he moved to wipe away the blood that was already starting to flow from his lip. Troy backed away from him then, a shocked expression on his handsome features. And even then, even with his head pounding, Ryan could only smirk, because it had been worth it.
"Why would you do that? What did I do to you?" Troy asked quietly, the anger almost completely gone from his voice and replaced with something more desperate. "I love her!"
Ryan stood up straight once more, ignoring his abused lips as he moved to straighten his costume. He studied the other boy quietly, contemplating if he should answer. And as he looked at the solemn face of Troy Bolton, any guilt he felt was overshadowed by the hate that refused to go away.
"You take something from me, I take something from you. Call us even." He stated blandly, almost as if he had made a business transaction.
He finished adjusting his clothes and turned gracefully on his heel, beginning to make his way towards the stage door, and just for a moment he paused and called back over his shoulder.
"Oh, and Bolton?"
Troy raised his head from his hands and turned reddening eyes towards Ryan warily, and even then the triumph was still there and even then, so was the anger.
"Sing your fucking heart out."
He opened the stage door then, leaving Troy Bolton alone with only Ryan's laughter to accompany him.