Chapter 10- A Room Full of Basketball

There was silence as Ryan drove Troy home. Troy was huddled to the passenger side door, head in his hand. Ryan kept the music to a dull roar, hoping that the Sweeney Todd soundtrack wasn't interrupting Troy's praying or whatever it was. They were almost to Troy's house when the basketball player sat straight up in his seat and ordered Ryan to stop.

Ryan wasn't really an anxious person but he'd never felt more unsure. Hopefully Troy wasn't about to pull an axe murderer routine and leave Ryan for dead in his car. He looked uneasily over at the other teenager and noticed a glistening streak down the other boy's face. Troy was crying?

"Are you okay?" Troy nodded, shaking slightly. "Is there anything I can do?" Troy shook his head, another tear slipping down his cheek. "You just want to sit here?"

"Please."

"Okay…" Ryan sat back in his seat, confused. "Is it the music? I mean, Sweeney Todd's kind of sad—"

"No."

"Okay." Ryan sighed. Somehow he always managed to be stuck in the middle of situations that required much more grace and motherliness than he was capable of. He sat and listened to Troy inhale shakily and hiccough. The things he did for his sister.

It was nearing midnight when Ryan attempted to speak again. "Um, I have a curfew in ten minutes. Can I take you home?" Troy nodded silently but stopped him as he started to put the car in drive.

"How did you know?" Ryan's mind raced for any knowledge he might have recently come across. Troy could be talking about any number of things and he sincerely hoped this had nothing to do with Gabriella.

"Know what?"

"About…Never mind." Ryan peered at Troy, eyebrow cocked.

"Is this about Gabriella?" Troy shook his head.

"No…Yes…I dunno."

"Hey, listen. She's fine. She's gonna be okay but are you? I mean, you just spent the past hour and a half crying on my window." Troy smiled a little.

"Sorry."

"No big deal. I can have someone clean the snot off of it." Troy laughed and wiped away the tears under his eyes. "Listen, Troy. If you want, you're welcome to stay in our guest bedroom tonight." Ryan wasn't sure how that would help. Waking up to Sharpay wasn't a necessarily beautiful sight.

"Thanks but I don't want Sharpay to know about this."

"Ah. I can understand that."

"Yeah."

"She's not the easiest human being to deal with." Troy laughed and nodded in agreement.

"I dunno, man. Being with her tonight…it was weird. Really weird. I really don't think I want to see her like that ever again." Ryan nodded.

"I've seen way more of her naked than any brother should ever see. Trust me."

"It was just weird! Out of sync and awkward. It was like I was fighting her or something." Ryan laughed at the image.

"Sounds like Sharpay."

"But it's not just her."

"What do you mean?"

"It was out of sync with Gabriella too. We were awesome friends but as soon as things got romantic and sexual, it was gone. Bam. Like we barely knew each other." Ryan shrugged.

"Maybe you just haven't found the right person yet."

"Yeah…" Troy glanced at the clock set into the dash. "Shit, it's midnight! I am so sorry, Ryan." Ryan shrugged.

"It's cool. I have a curfew but it's mostly ignored."

"Are you sure? Because you're welcome to tell them you're staying over with me." Ryan was confused. Was this an invitation?

"Um, okay."

"I mean, you can stay the night if you want." Ryan smiled.

"Sure. I mean, yeah. Let me call my parents."

The Bolton's home was a warm-looking brick two-story with a large driveway that was clearly home to Troy's practice court. Ryan avoided hitting any stray basketballs as he parked next to the goal. Troy led him into the garage and through, into the kitchen where Mr. and Mrs. Bolton sat, looking over travel brochures and talking. "Hi, Ryan!" Troy's mother smiled. He remembered her from the end-of-summer talent show at Lava Springs.

"Hello, Mrs. Bolton. Mr. Bolton."

"Ryan's gonna stay the night, if that's okay."

"Of course! Do you want me to get the air mattress?"

"Yeah. Thanks." With a smile and another hello, Ryan was being dragged through a quaint living room, up a set of carpeted stairs and into what he assumed was Troy's room.

It was covered in basketball. Everything had a basketball theme, including the trophy shelf above Troy's bed. But the thing that caught Ryan's attention was his own face peering out at him from a photograph. Actually, it was several photographs. There on Troy's corkboard were pictures from any function he'd ever attended with Troy. Pictures of them from the spring musical, from the talent show, even a few candid shots from this year's show. Ryan ran his fingers over one of his favorite pictures. He remembered Troy's mother asking them to get close and smile after the final bows of the spring show. There was Troy grinning from ear-to-ear, arm around a slightly-more reserved Ryan, both heavily makeup-ed, mic-ed, and sweating. "I like your pictures." Troy blushed.

"Yeah. Good times." Troy flopped onto his bed. "So, what'd you want to do?" Ryan sat next to him, legs hanging off the bed.

"I dunno. What do you want to do?" This could get interesting. Neither of them had ever spent much time together outside of school, especially not alone. Ryan wasn't sure they had anything in common. He stretched out next to Troy.

Even if he could have rewound the moment and watched it again and again, he'd still never have seen it coming. It was like being bitten by a snake when you weren't aware you were holding one. And even as Troy's lips pressed warmly against his own, Ryan wondered where on earth this particular moment was coming from. Was he dreaming? Was Sharpay so sexually horrifying that she'd driven Troy to the edge of heterosexuality? Surely he had gone insane. Troy Bolton was the pinnacle of heterosexuality, or so Ryan had thought. But he tossed all these thoughts aside and let his had slide up Troy's back to his neck when he felt the other boy's warm tongue swipe across his lips, looking for a way in. He felt Troy's hands clench his shirt and tug and he broke the kiss to allow him to pull the thing over his head. Troy had warm hands and each time they slid from one place to another, Ryan's skin missed them. They're tongues were dancing some kind of fierce and needy tango, both caught in the kind of moment that had only occupied Ryan's dreams. He had no idea how Troy's shirt joined his own on the ground but didn't complain. The other boy's chest was muscled from constant activity and if he let his fingers linger over the pectoral muscles, he could feel Troy's heartbeat. He wasn't even aware that he was on his back until he felt Troy's weight shift atop him as the other boy sat up and fiddled with the button of Ryan's jeans. Troy's eyes lingered on Ryan's own, searching for the go-ahead. Ryan paused, thoughts racing. He'd never made it past a first kiss with other boys and it made him wonder what made Troy different. But the athlete was eager to continue and ground what Ryan noted was a fairly stiff erection into his own, making him putty in his hands. Jeans came off and there lay Ryan in his Abercrombie boxers, feeling naked.

"Is this okay?" Troy breathed. Ryan nodded and pressed a kiss into Troy's chest.

"Trust me. It's more than okay."