Disclaimer—I don't own HSM. Fo' reals.
Author's Note: Well I have to be honest. I was not interested in HSM at all, at first. And then, one day on I thought to myself, "self, it's time to explore a new fandom for more slash stories, because you've exhausted all the good stuff in your current ones." So I thought about it, and since Zac Efron is exactly the kind of guy I like (twinks rule, although he does wear a bit much makeup...) I thought of HSM. Since I didn't know the movie, basically any HSM slash story I read would be just a gay love story set in high school. Lo and behold, it was so, and I enjoyed myself immensely. I normally play with sci-fi and fantasy fandoms in my writing, so this was a little different for me. Tell me if you like it, and I just might write more.
Mad Props:
Tertiary Genesis. Basically wrote this because he wants more Tryan in the world, and I felt it was only fair if I was enjoying his stories that he might enjoy one of mine. He was the first to read it, and thus he took my HSM virginity. I hope he enjoyed it half as much as I did. [Insert cat noise here
Sandshrew777. If you reread this, you'll notice that I took most of your corrections under advisement, and cleared some stuff up. The things that I did not change, quite frankly, didn't need correction or I kept for stylistic purposes. But thank you for taking the time to write out all that you did, that's the sort of review I dream about getting, and it made my week.
Weaksauce. Not only did you leave me a review, but you PMed me as well with technical writing advice. Thanks for clarifying the rule on numbers, I knew that there was a rule, but all I could think of was whether or not there was a difference between dialogue and narrative as to whether numbers were spelled out (and I left my copy of Strunk and White's Guide to Style at school!).
Summary: Troy had always worried his romance with Ryan would prove problematic for his teammates. But when tensions finally snap and his team confronts him, it's nothing like he expected. [Tryan, slash, attempted humor and explicit language
Guy Talk
Practice had finished. Or rather, not practice, but an extended warm-up period for the Wildcat basketball team. Normally, they would be running their collective ass off for about two hours. Instead, they had just finished a light scrimmage after dynamic stretching for just over an hour, when Coach Bolton called the practice. With the game that would determine whether or not they went to the state championship that night, Coach Bolton did not want any of his players injured before the game even began.
As the boys streamed into the locker room, the core of the team went to the showers first. Hierarchy determined privilege in the Wildcats team, as in all institutions, so it was the captain and the best players who got first showers. The fact that the team captain's best friends were also the other best players wasn't quite a coincidence. Troy Bolton dropped his basketball shorts and underwear, grabbed his towel, soap and shampoo, and practically strutted to the showers. His best friend Chad, and his buddies Zeke and Jason, stripped and followed him. Bringing up the rear was a tall, lanky, dark-skinned boy with cornrows named Patrick.
"So, you guys ready for the big game, tonight?" Troy asked.
"Hell yeah, bro, we're gonna stick it to those bitches tonight," Chad crowed. Like always, Chad's Wildcat spirit did not lack for vigor.
"Don't remind me, Danforth," Patrick said as if voicing a complaint. The other guys looked at him curiously.
"What?" Chad voiced the question they were all thinking. Patrick sighed and gestured vaguely with his hand.
"You know. You're gonna get some victory pussy after the game. Not all of us are so lucky." Jason nodded in commiseration; his relationship with Kelsi had lasted about as long as a snowflake on a hot stove.
"Dude, Taylor ain't a bitch, she's a classy girl," the boy with the large head of hair defended his girlfriend.
"Wait, is classy a euphemism for what I think it is?" Troy simply had to needle his best friend a little bit.
"Yeah, most I've gotten out of her is a hand job." Chad's voice was filled with disappointment.
"Damn that sucks dude," Zeke finally spoke up while soaping up his underarms with Troy's body wash. The body wash Troy used had a fresh spring scent, whatever that meant. More importantly, it made Troy smell nice in a way that got a lot of girls giggling at and complimenting him, and Zeke stole it every time Troy took his eyes off it.
"She lets you feel her up, right?" Jason asked in a way that said if Chad didn't respond with a "yes" then the next question would be: "dude why are you still with her?" Trying to get his massive hair-do completely wet before shampooing, Chad hung his head down so the water could pull his afro straight down from his scalp. For a moment his hair simply sponged up all water and barely dripped. As he tried to get completely wet, Chad spoke through the waterfall cascading off his head.
"Guys, I have gone down on that girl like a dozen times, and she still won't put out." Zeke made a disappointed "tsk" noise while Jason and Patrick offered him sympathetic looks.
"Ah, that's gross man," Troy said, and then shuddered. The four other guys looked at him.
"Troy there is no way in hell you get to call that gross," Chad finally said. Troy raised an eyebrow at him while turning so he could rinse off his back.
"Oh, and why is that?"
"Cuz you suck dick, bro, that's why." Troy pondered that statement, and then shrugged.
"I like girls too, but I don't like going down on them. Dick tastes better than pussy." Judging by the expressions on his teammates' faces, they disagreed.
"Yeah, I'm with Troy on this one—NO, stop, none of you think anything, that came out wrong," Zeke waved his hands around as if he could grab his words out of the air and take them back. All the guys snickered.
"I'll say you came out wrong, all right. You need to say 'guys, I like mangina' and not dance around it," Chad barely said through his laughter.
"Yeah, Zeke, got something to tell us?" Jason asked coquettishly.
"Fuck you guys. No, I just mean, I don't go down on chicks at all, I don't like it."
"You're missing out, dude," Chad said in a tone that practically reeked of patronization.
"What, you like getting a face full of pussy hair and stink?" Zeke shot back.
"Uh, I happen to like vagina, so yeah, it's pretty fucking hot to me." The other dark skinned boy shook his head.
"Man, Sharpay don't play like that."
"What do you mean?" Chad asked.
"She doesn't even want me to go down on her, she thinks it's gross. But she also won't go down on me, cuz she says that's gross, too."
"Oh, cry us a river you faggot," Patrick said, and then began to wave his hands about while stepping around daintily. "'My name is Zeke, and since my girlfriend won't give me head all we can do is fuck like rabbits, my life sucks.' How about you blow it out your ass like Troy-boy does with his boy-toy." All the guys made "woaaaah" sounds and Troy turned off his showerhead. Turning around to look at his friends, Troy began to nonchalantly strip the water from his arms and chest with his hands.
"Are you guys jealous that Ryan puts out whenever, wherever, for whatever?" Troy asked with a hint of slyness in his voice. The other guys all shortly followed his example and ended their showers.
"Yeah, a little bit," Chad said as he squeezed water out of his massive hairdo. Everyone looked at him as if he were crazy, especially Troy.
"What, are you serious?" Jason finally asked.
"Fuck yeah guys, I mean, think about this." Chad clapped both his hands together as if he were praying. "We all know how much guys want sex, right? I mean, that's what we're fucking talking about right now, point proven." Keeping his palms pressed together, he punctuated every other word by bobbing them up and down. With their towels wrapped around their waists, the boys walked out to go change. The rest of the team filed in to the showers after them, while the kings of the varsity team kept up their chatter about their sex lives.
"Go on," Zeke said slowly.
"So, we all want sex, but these girls don't wanna put out."
"Sharpay does," Zeke interjected, bragging as best he could. Chad scoffed at him.
"Don't front, Zeke. We all know what kinda girl Sharpay is, and if you think you can get us to actually believe that when you guys have sex is not completely determined by her whims, you're smoking crack." Troy laughed as he opened his locker and pulled out dry clothes from his bag.
"Yeah, I bet she even tops him," Jason teased.
"Hey, nothing wrong with that, my baby likes to ride the train."
"Yeah, but only when she feels like it," Chad hammered his point in. "What I'm trying to say is: guys want to have sex all fucking day. We all know it, we all love it. But girls only wanna get off sometimes, so we have to work at it. So, while we fine, strapping, handsome, young citizens are trying to get our nuts off with flowers, dinner, begging and whatever else, Troy over there gets road-head, like, every day after school. At the minimum!" Troy blushed and he pulled his shirt on over his face to cover it up.
"What?" Jason asked, his face twisted up and stunned by what he just heard.
"Bullshit," Patrick said, looking just as shocked and appalled as Jason.
"Troy, is Danforth telling the truth?" Zeke turned to his captain. Troy looked at each of his friends' faces, and despite seeing a variety of emotions he did not want to see, he turned to look at Chad. Having such a superior look on your face should be illegal, Troy thought, especially when Troy was worried about what his teammates thought. His relationship with Ryan had been accepted, he had been accepted, but it was rarely brought up. Troy did not want to risk anything by pressing the tolerance of his social circle.
Despite all that, Troy Bolton did not back down from a challenge.
"… How the fuck do you know that, Chad? Do you watch us or something?" he asked as he sat down to grab his socks and shoes.
"Oooooooh, damn boy," Jason said, pointing at Chad. "You just got told!"
"Man, that almost makes me wish I was gay," Patrick added. Troy looked at him as if he had sprouted an extra head.
"Seriously, though, doesn't it?" Chad said as he pulled up his pants. Troy turned his look onto Chad where it became even more baffled. Empty noises came out of his mouth as he searched for something to respond with, before finally settling on just saying exactly what he thought.
"You guys are retarded."
"Shut the fuck up, Bolton. Be real, how often do you and Evans get down?" Patrick asked. Troy actually glared a little bit.
"That is none of your business."
"Yeah, besides, you know that it's really more of a question of how often does Evans slob his knob in general," another guy chimed in as he walked to his locker, still dripping from the shower. The only Latin guy on the team, Alonzo had surprised Troy a great deal by not caring about his relationship with Ryan. Being a devout catholic, Troy was sure Alonzo would have a problem with his bisexuality, let alone his dating a gay boy. To his surprise, and a bit of embarrassment, Alonzo had told him he thought if God made people to like their own sex, then who was he to question God? Besides, if Troy was dating a boy, that just left more pretty girls for the rest of them.
"Tell us, Troy, you know all about how we get down with our girls, you owe us at least this bit of info," Zeke almost whined.
"I just thought you guys wouldn't ever want to know what the two fags got up to," Troy said darkly, and there was a pause as all the guys looked at each other and then their captain.
"Troy, have people been talking shit about you?" Chad broke the silence first.
"I'm dating a guy, Chad, people will always talk shit about me for that."
"Yo, people know that if they fuck with you they fuck with us, so either you tell us who it is so we can beat the shit out of them, or you fess up to the question," Alonzo said. Sounds of assent and general agreement came from each of the boys, a ring of low tones that settled on Troy like protective armor.
"I ever tell you guys what awesome friends you are?" he asked them. It was one thing for a guy to say that he was your friend till the end, another entirely to have them actually follow through.
"Nah, but you're kind of an asshole so we don't expect it," teased Chad.
"Fine, you wanna know how often Ryan and I screw around?" All the boys nodded. "Every day." They all groaned in dismay while muttering things like "that's crap" and "fucking Evans." Troy smiled.
"Every day?" Patrick spoke so plaintively that Troy actually answered his question.
"Yeah, although we miss some days. Like when he takes a trip with his family for a weekend, we're stuck using web cams and cell phones. But when we're both around we usually manage once a day, and on a day like today…" Troy trailed off meaningfully, while he packed up his clothes and towel.
"On a day like today—what?" Jason asked, as if he were afraid to know but couldn't help himself. Troy smirked like the cat that had just eaten the canary, the cream, and the catnip.
"Well, I like to be relaxed for a game, you know? And if we win, I get victory sex. If we lose, I get consolation sex." The silence stretched until you could have heard a pin dropping on it.
"You suck."
"Yeah. Definitely."
"Man, fuck you, Bolton."
"Why isn't Sharpay more like her brother?" Zeke whined, and Troy took the opportunity to turn the group teasing off his relationship with Ryan.
"Zeke, you have got to stop coming out to us like this." The baker glared at the guys he spent nearly all his time with, on and off the courts, and scowled darkly.
"Fuck you guys." And their laughter did not stop for some time.
Ryan yawned as he waited for Troy to come out of the gym. Finally, the cluster of basketball players trooped out the doors. Bass and baritone voices echoed out over the concrete and Ryan smiled fondly as he watched Troy say something that made everyone laugh.
The other guys walked to their cars while Troy came straight towards him. Ryan turned his brand new hybrid luxury SUV on with the press of a button, and waited for Troy to throw his bag in the backseat. After slamming the door shut, Troy opened the front passenger door and hopped up onto his seat. Leaning over to kiss the blond boy, Troy licked Ryan's mouth in a way that meant only one thing occupied his thoughts. They separated after a brief but very intense kiss, and grinned at one another. Private smiles, shared glances, and brief touches, all still thrilled Ryan to extremes. Part of it was definitely having someone to be romantic with, the other part was Troy. Just Troy.
"What got you so fired up?" Ryan asked, pleased as punch. He began to drive, enjoying the complete silence while the car ran on electricity. Suddenly, Troy rolled down the window and held up a hand, telling Ryan to stop the car. The blond boy obeyed, despite his obvious confusion, and watched to see what his boyfriend would do.
"But guys," Troy bellowed out of the window, and the rest of his buddies turned to look. "The thing you gotta remember is that some days, I ride shotgun, too." At once they all began making noise. Sarcastic booing combined with laughter and at least one faked vomiting episode had Ryan raising an eyebrow as Troy rolled up the window.
"What was that all about?" he asked as he began driving out of the parking lot.
"We had a little talk in the locker room. About guy stuff," Troy said blithely as he reached over to Ryan's lap and gave his crotch a squeeze. The blond boy gave a low hiss at the feeling of Troy's hand.
"What sort of guy stuff?" Ryan asked, trying to keep his voice steady, watch the road, and not pay too much attention to the fact that Troy had put his seatbelt on, but looped the chest strap behind his back. There was only one reason the other boy would do that, the same reason Ryan got that kiss the second Troy got in the car. Tender ministrations from the basketball jock's insistent left hand told Ryan he should take the slightly longer route to Troy's house that day. Extra time would come in handy, and taking the back roads would mean less traffic to deal with while he was… distracted.
"Talking about girls, and how they put out." His pants' zipper was pulled down sensually. "Like, how they don't put out, or don't put out as often as the guys want." Troy's nimble hand fished his prize, rapidly stiffening, out of Ryan's designer boxer briefs. "And then they wanted to know whether you being a boy meant you put out more." Troy didn't notice the small frown that etched itself on Ryan's face, mostly because his attention focused on a very different area of the drama king's body.
"So, what did you tell them," Ryan tried to ask, but choked on the last word as Troy leaned over and gave an almost experimental lick.
"I told them that we both had healthy, normal and above all male sex drives. They seemed awfully jealous over how my boyfriend put out more than their girlfriends. Zeke in particular didn't like how he was apparently dating the prudish Evans twin." Ryan turned a harsh look down at the back of Troy's head. Keeping one hand on the wheel, he used the other to pull himself out of Troy's reach. The other boy looked up at him in confusion.
"So, what, you told them I'm some sort of slut who begs you to fuck him in the ass everyday?" Troy's face fell into dismay.
"Why would you say something like that?" Ryan kept his stare even, despite the almost plaintive tone of Troy's voice.
"That's what I just asked you." His boyfriend scowled at him.
"For your information, jackass, I told them we fooled around every damn day. And I never implied anything about you being a 'slut who begged me to fuck him in the ass everyday.' I told them that 'we' screwed around, not me fucking you, us being together. When I was yelling at them about riding shotgun? Well I said I loved getting road head, and you know what? I wanted to show them that I love giving it, too, because our relationship is give and take, and I didn't want them to think of you as my bitch. But now—now I think I want you to take me home, Ryan." Troy spat Ryan's name out like a piece of bad garbage. Checking for anyone behind them, Ryan pulled the car over to the side of the road. Not only did he suddenly feel too sick to drive, he needed to stop the car to apologize.
"Troy, I'm sorry, I—" he started until Troy interrupted him.
"Ryan, I don't really want to hear it." Silence draped itself over the two teens, and Ryan averted his eyes from Troy's.
"Okay. I'll take you home," Ryan said softly, and bit his lip to drive the quaver out of his voice. With hands that shook far more than he would like, he reached down to cover himself back up, but Troy's hands suddenly covered his own. Careful fingers neatened up his undergarments and zipped him back up. The entire time, Troy looked into Ryan's eyes, holding them steady with his gaze. Ryan couldn't help the burn in his eyes or the way his throat ached to keen out his pain. It killed him that Troy handled him so gently, and with so much love, and that he'd lashed out at the other boy—no, the other man—who held him with such care.
"Troy, I'm so sorry," he started to say but the tanned skin finger that touched his lips quieted him.
"Ryan, just please tell me, what are you really angry about?" Ryan couldn't bear to look at Troy. Light seemed to pour out of his gaze, his eyes glowing with so much affection and hurt confusion Ryan had to close his own eyes.
"I'm afraid, Troy, not angry," he confessed. Concern shadowed Troy's face.
"Afraid of what?"
"Afraid… afraid that you'll go back to girls, afraid that I really am just a fucking girl in a boy's body, afraid that you don't see me as a man, afraid that your buddies will convince you to stop seeing me or just—I'm afraid of losing you," Ryan said, no longer caring about how his voice shook. He just kept his eyes closed, and rested his cheek in Troy's broad callused hand, stealing what comfort the touch offered.
"Oh, baby." A smile forced its way onto his face; Troy knew how much he hated that pet name. "I'm not going to up and abandon you, ever, for any reason."
"You're not mad that I—"
"That you think so little of me? That I'd break up with you because I'm bisexual and I could date a girl if I wanted? Or that my friends could pressure me into leaving you?" Ryan's eyes crept open against his will. Troy would be perfectly within his right to break up with him for that. There must be something terribly wrong with him that he could even worry like that about someone who had given so much to be with him. Because Troy had proved that he loved Ryan, and even declared his love directly to Ryan's face. He held no right to worry about Troy's loyalty; in fact, he probably deserved to be dumped…
"I understand, Ryan, it's okay." Cutting into the fog of his self-hatred, Troy's quiet words eased him, but didn't relieve his anxiety or remorse.
"But I shouldn't be worried, because I know you won't do any of that, but I can't stop thinking about it. I don't deserve you." Troy sighed, and stroked his boyfriend's cheekbone with his thumb, massaging small circles with one finger while the others cradled his head.
"Don't you see? That's why you really worry about me leaving you, Ryan. You have this terrible image of yourself, baby, and that's normal, for who you are and what you've been through. Having insecurities is part of life, and you weren't dealt the easiest hand." Listening to Troy speak was like bathing in a mineral hot spring, soothing his pain away and enfolding him with warmth. "Someday you'll see yourself like I see you, and then you'll see how much of an idiot I'd be to leave you. And I promise, to me you are one hundred percent man, if I wanted to I could date a girl, but I'm dating you for you are. I love you for you are, you silly sausage." Gentle teasing always accompanied Troy's declarations of love, as if to soften the blow such intense emotion brought on them. The effort Troy went through to accommodate Ryan's feelings and insecurities made the other boy feel embarrassed beyond all belief, and left an ache in his heart at how intensely it meant Troy loved him. Because Troy knew all of Ryan's faults, knew every crack in his armor, every fear, every nightmare, every worry, every neurotic impulse that webbed through his mind and body, and he cared for each one. Love and caring like that did not come about often, and it left Ryan feeling breathless.
"Please kiss me," Ryan whispered, and Troy leaned forward to obey. After a few moments, their faces separated, both of them breathing heavily. Flushed cheeks and sparkling eyes told him that Troy enjoyed the kiss as much as he did.
"We good?" the brunet asked him, his eyes searching Ryan's face.
"You're too good for me," Ryan teased, despite his wavering voice and eyes still wet with unshed tears. Troy smiled at him, a brilliant white explosion that sent his heart pounding through his chest and webs of heat spreading from his gut to the area between his thighs. Only, as Ryan's senses reasserted themselves from his reaction to Troy's smile, he noticed that the jock's hand had crept back into his lap to gently grab and caress the most sensitive part of his anatomy.
"I love you, you retard. So shut up and let me express it." Ryan smiled back at Troy, and took another kiss from the basketball player's eager mouth.
"Okay, my hot jock stud-muffin." Troy stuck his tongue out of the corner of his mouth in an expression of exaggerated disgust. Neither of them liked the pet names they had given each other, so they used them all the time.
The ride back to Troy's house took about 20 minutes, more than enough time for Troy to demonstrate his desire for Ryan quite enthusiastically. Turnabout was only fair play, Ryan declared, and despite Troy's mild protests, Ryan dressed up to play out one of Troy's favorite (and most private) sexual fantasies as soon as they were back at Troy's house. If only his teammates knew that nothing got Troy's rocks off harder than fucking Ryan doggy style while the blond wore a Japanese schoolgirl outfit, complete with tiny skirt and extra long stockings.
Ryan would bet money that Troy would never tell his buddies that particular secret about their sex life. And even though Ryan hated to wear the skirt, hated everything that it could mean about his masculinity, he loved the way Troy would whimper and beg for him when he wore it. As the two boys lay together in a sticky mess of bodily fluids, their naked (or in Ryan's case, mostly naked) bodies curled around each other. After a moment Ryan's shirt was thrown off and the skirt neatly shucked off his legs, before they re-embraced, now completely nude. Every inch of skin tried to press against the skin of the other, as if they were trying to merge and become one person in lieu of two.
Here, in Troy's arms, the smell of their love making hanging in the air and the lingering sensation of being filled with his boyfriend, Ryan felt at peace. No worries could penetrate the haze of pleasure and perfect contentment suffusing his mind.
"What time is it?" Troy asked, his voice somewhat muffled by Ryan's chest and neck. Being able to feel the rumble of Troy's voice as it echoed into his body felt wonderful. Intimacy of this sort had plagued Ryan's dreams for years. Cruel fantasies of behind held and loved by another boy at a time when he was still half-afraid of his own sexuality. Made more cruel and terrible because so often Troy Bolton had featured in those fantasies, and Ryan had never dreamed they could be real.
"It's a quarter after five."
"So we still have plenty of time, don't we?" Ryan looked down at the crown of his boyfriend's head and in slight amusement.
"You want to go again, already?"
"What, you're saying you're not up to it?" Troy challenged him, and then rolled his hips against Ryan.
"Oh I think you could get me up to it, Mr. Bolton."
"Good, I'm going to need you up and ready." Ryan's eyes widened, he knew what that meant in Troy-speak.
"Troy, are you sure we should—I mean your game is in a couple hours," Ryan stammered. Secretly he was delighted, Troy knew he had issues about his perceived masculinity and how everyone thought of him as Troy's bitch, but his first thoughts were for Troy's well-being, always.
"Well, Ryan, I have to say I feel nice and relaxed, but I still have some muscle tension in my back and neck. I really think that you could help me out with that." The tube of lubricant was pressed into Ryan's hands. His fingers closed over the plastic reflexively, and Troy's fingertips ghosted over the top of his wrist, his forearm and up to his chest, just over his heart.
"C'mon, Ryan," Troy pleaded, his voice a harsh whisper of lust against which Ryan had no defense. "I need you to fuck me." Ryan's lip trembled and Troy kissed him and then sealed the deal with an imploring "please" whispered against his still tingling lips.
Of course, when Troy asked like that, how could he refuse?
End note: I'm going on a five week retreat where I won't have much access to computers, if any, and certainly not the internet. So you won't see anything new until I get back after that, but trust me, I have plans.