Title: We Don't Care
Summary: Everyone always thinks the two of us are always fighting over Troy Bolton or leads in musicals. Their logic is their failure. Haven't they realized by now the best part of being a couple is making up? I sure have, I mean, how could I not? Gabpay.
Rating: M for harsh language and situations of an intense sexual nature.
Disclaimer: I don't own High School Musical and Co.
Warning: This is a Gabpay. That means a romantic/sexual relationship between Gabriella and Sharpay if you didn't know. If that bothers you, I suggest you look elsewhere for whatever couple grabs your fancy instead.
They're staring at us. I know it and she knows it, but we don't care. Whenever we are around each other they stare. It's like they're wondering why we subject ourselves to each other. Sometimes I wonder it too.
We're bickering, and their heads are bouncing back and forth like ping-pong balls, waiting to see who misses the serve. And she's poking me in the sternum with her index finger while speaking in that soft voice she uses when she doesn't want anyone to know she's really angry or disappointed, and for a moment my heart sinks 'cause she's using that tone on me, but I push it away. And then I'm removing her finger and screaming back in her face so loud I'm surprised her hair isn't blown backwards. I know they can hear us and she knows it too, but we don't care. They'll never get it.
And then Ryan and Kelsi are grabbing me by the arms and dragging me backwards a few feet while Chad and Taylor do the same to her, and I can tell by the look in her eyes she's wishing death upon them silently. She'll never say it out loud, but she hates when they get involved in our affairs.
Troy suddenly stand between us, with a frown placed on his face, looking irritated. "I'm not a piece of meat for you guys to fight over, you know," he's saying and my attention is snapped back to him from where I had been staring at her heaving chest. And I know I'm looking at him like he suddenly has three heads and I can tell just by the look in her eyes that she's thinking the same thing as me, except with added sarcasm about how she would love to stake him on a kebob. Because she's always been sarcastic but either nobody catches it or they drop it as a one-time thing. And we know that Troy's ego is always being inflated by our quarreling but we don't care.
Ryan's letting go of me now since I haven't said anything and I realize I've been staring at her again and now everyone is staring at me, which I pretty much hate when I'm not on stage. I see the look she gives me so I glare at Kelsi, and she promptly releases my other arm, and I'm fiddling with the hem of my shirt. And Chad and Taylor still haven't relinquished their hold and she's getting pissed with that too. So I'm moving to yank on Chad's shirt to get him to let go when Troy steps in between us again, and I can't help but give off an annoyed sigh.
"What, Wildcat?" I wince as the nickname escapes my lips, it's supposed to be an insult but didn't turn out that way. She's raised her eyebrow at me in a 'what are you doing' kind of way and I just shrug almost imperceptibly back, hell if I know and I'm the one that's doing it.
"Seriously, you two, cool your jets," Troy's muttering as now he grabs my arm in one hand and hers in the other, and I'm wondering if I'm the only one that's noticing how she's disliking this even more.
"We are calm, Troy" she's spat out yanking her arm from his grip and everyone is staring incredulously at her. She's back in my face again all of a sudden, poking me with that damned index finger again while using that tone.
And before I knew it happened, I'm right there with her word for word, arguing everything that comes out of her mouth and they're staring again. Everyone always thinks the two of us are always fighting over Troy Bolton or leads in musicals. Their logic is their failure. Do they not listen or something, because if they would just listen to half of what we are screaming at each other they would definitely know it's not about Troy. It's about us, and we don't care who knows it. Not that we're going around telling anybody either. We both have this idea, if it's important enough to them, they can figure it out themselves.
We're both suddenly jerked by Taylor though, as she grabs one of our arms each and drags us to an empty classroom, sprinting out the door before we can react. There's this grating noise coming from the hallway, and by the time we reach the door Chad's got a chair firmly placed under the handle. I'm wondering when our school got doors that open outward since all I've ever seen you have to pull inwards. And she's pounding on the door shouting for them to let us out while I'm watching her curls bounce down her back. Since she's got her face crammed up to the window I act on my urge to wrap myself around her waist. She pauses for a moment, just long enough for me to hear Taylor speak.
"You can come out when you sort out your differences and stop fighting." She's letting out this little squeak that they must take as agreement because they lean on the wall on the other side of the hallway. It's really caused by the fact that I've shoved my hands into her front pockets as far as they will go. She has really big pockets that cover almost all of her upper thighs too. Who puts pockets that size on a skirt anyways?
And in the next second she's pulling us away from the window and slamming me up against the wall. I can vaguely hear Chad shout, "Shit! Sharpay's killing Gabi!" before I get distracted by a hot mouth on my own. Let them think what they want, we don't care.
I don't know why they think we're obsessed with Troy. Like we'd even let him come between us. Haven't they realized by now the best part of being a couple is making up? I sure have, I mean, how could I not? Not that they know there is an us that doesn't involve insults. Sometimes even we don't know it.
She's pressing her body up against mine and I can feel a burning sensation shoot downward as she clasp my wrists in a death-grip, pinning me against the wall even more. Then her mouth leaves mine and attacks the side of my neck, teeth lightly grazing over my skin. And I'm hissing and wondering why her teeth are so cold when they're inside her hot mouth and now she's moved my hands above my head to grasp them with one hand while the other fumbles with my belt loop, teasingly pulling.
The sensation the friction from that simple action is causing leaves me weak in the knees and I slide down about two inches, thigh resting between her legs. She's pushing herself even closer, kissing behind my earlobe and I'm purring and barely noticing that she's settled on my leg, skirt splayed out around her legs and the one of mine she's sitting on lightly. I've lost all thought, I don't even remember what we were fighting about to begin with, but god, I'd argue with her in front of them again if it puts us in this same situation.
I feel the fabric tickle the backside of my calf before a hot sensation comes in contact with my upper thigh, jolting my senses into sharp reality, and I can suddenly hear knocking on the door. An unbidden chuckle escapes my mouth when I realize that while they locked us in, she's locked them out. Take that, clueless Troy-lings.
Her free hands moved down to my hips and she's teasingly trailing her fingertips horizontally across the top of my jeans while her lips move back to my needy ones. She's parted them and my mind is suddenly racing with a million thoughts, so fast that I can't comprehend a single one and if my pulse wasn't racing before it sure as hell is now. Those cold canines are caressing my lips once more and I'm trying to worm my tongue out past hers to warm them.
She's undone the top button to my jeans so slowly I hadn't even realized it had happened, so my breath hitches in my throat when her soft fingers come in contact with the bare skin between my hips, still agonizingly moving left to right instead of down, like they should. A husky laugh escapes her lips as she pulls back, right in time with my soft moan.
"And you were saying we couldn't fool around at school," she whispers throatily and the reason we were fighting to begin with comes crashing back to me. Damn her. I tell her as much, and she laughs once more.
"Don't be like that, Shar-baby," and suddenly she's gone lower and any residual anger I had leaves in a flash as my desire skyrockets and I know Gabriella's my girl because I wouldn't let anyone else get away with what she does, and Gabs is the same way. She's got that twinkle in her eye, and I know what it is because I'm sure she sees it in mine too.
It has to be love, and we don't care who knows it. Just let them figure it out for themselves.
I've never written anything quite like that, so I'm considering it prep-work for the Liley I'm slowing piecing together. I have no idea what inspired it either. I was just folding towels and listening to my iPod (All For One by the HSM cast if you're wondering) when it came out. It was a bit hard because it didn't have any plot, and I'm not sure I wrote anything in the last half correct. My original thought was to have it in Gabriella's point of view, but I decided before I even got one paragraph done that it would have to be Sharpay. No clue why though.
So, no explanation for why they're together because I don't have one yet. Sorry. I have some ideas for other ones, but none that could tie into this one.
Please, leave a comment and express your opinion.
Signing off,
Blade