A/N: I own nothing pertaining to the High School Musical franchise. If you recognize something, it is not mine. I do, unfortunately own David. UGH. As always, this is Troy/Ryan slash, which means boy on boy love. And some angst ahead. If that's not the cherry on your sundae, then by all means, click the back button now. A flame will only confirm that you have been infected with the conformist stupidity that plagues most of society. Anyway, on with the story.

Chapter 15: Conversation

"Wh-Why do you want to know that?" A flushed Troy queried.

"I'm curious," Jimmie replied. "I like guys too, but…"

"Not quite in that way, right?" Ryan offered. If he and Troy had been drinking the water, they would have spit it back out from sheer shock. As an actor, he was able to maintain a cover that was unjarred.

"Well, yeah. And you guys are so cool, I wanna learn more about you," the sophomore informed the pair.

"I see." Troy's shock had died down quite a bit from the intensity it had been at moments before.

"I always sort of knew," Ryan explained. "Yeah, I was around girls constantly, but I never saw them as capable of being anything more than my friends. And sure, they were pretty and sweet and all, but when I looked at boys or the first time… I knew that I was attracted." The memories of his experiences flooded over him, both negative and positive, and although the majority were the former, he wished to burden neither Jimmie with his young, impressionable mind, nor Troy with events that had transpired long ago and whose outcomes could not be altered. "In the locker room during gym class in the sixth grade, I would sneak peeks at the other boys while they were in their underwear…"

And these images would remain emblazoned in your skull all day long, his inner voice threw in its two cents.

"I enjoyed it…" he admitted. "Maybe I'm a lech or a freak or something."

"I'd say 'or something'." Troy's smile lessened the harshness of his words. "I don't see anything wrong with that. People of the opposite sex eye-rape each other all the time."

"I made prepubescent boys the object of my pre-teen voyeuristic pleasure and you find nothing wrong with it?" Although shocked, Ryan used a mild tone for inquiry, hoping that several choice words were beyond Jimmie's level of understanding.

"They should have been grateful that you gave them the time of day," Troy asserted. "You're beautiful, Ryan." He leaned into the blond theater king and whispered, "I'd let you eye rape me anytime."

Ryan felt himself smirk. "Just as long as you eye-rape me too."

Troy smirked back. "Whenever you wish it."

Crazy people repel people that have a "normal" thinking pattern. They attract others that are certifiable. It is a simple law of attraction and in the case of Troy Bolton and Ryan Evans, one that held true to a fault. In spite of the model image Troy projected to the rest of the world, a façade of normalcy, he was nearly as mentally unstable as Ryan himself.

"What about you, Troy?" Jimmie questioned, bouncing energetically in his seat.

Troy had to restrain the urge to grab him by the head and force him to stay still. "When I saw Ryan dance," he replied. "With all of that pelvic thrusting and self-touching he was doing, I was spellbound. I had to keep my legs spread apart…" His eyes widening, he let the rest of the sentence drop off, far too embarrassed to inform the sophomore of the reason behind such a method of accommodation.

Ryan, however, being on the same brain frequency as the basketball god was tuned into his thoughts. He already knew of the reason to the rhyme. "I was your first?" He asked, his heart swayed by the notion of being the one that coaxed the boy out of the closet. His voice cracked slightly on the word "first".

"Of course. And only, I've never really looked at anyone else… well, side form the occasional lingering stare in the locker room." He lowered his voice, his next words meant only for Ryan's ears. "You're the only one that has ever gotten me hot and heavy."

Delighted chills traversed Ryan's spine. He felt no sense of triumph, only a vague feeling of happiness. A smile played across his red lips.

Noting the smile, Troy felt inclined to return it.

As Jimmie allowed the words of his elders to sink in, he came to a conclusion. "I think I like your sister," he told Ryan, breaking into a grin. "Since Troy's taken, she's pretty hot."

Ignoring the comment about himself, Troy relayed, "Hate to burst your bubble, but Sharpay is in a relationship too, kiddo."

Ryan fell silent, able to neither defend, nor disgrace his twin. In place of heartache, a void stretched, gaping in his chest. He bit his lip, trying not to shudder with the acknowledgement of the disconcerting state the closer-than-blood relationship with his kindred had fallen into.

Taking notice of the yawning silence from the blond male, Troy looked to his boyfriend, desperate to get him talking and out of that dark place and time. "Ryan?" He called softly.

Troy's tenor baritone was replaced by the deeper intonation of a far more mature boy. The tennis courts faded away.

He was back in the kitchen at Lava Springs Country Club. The room was empty but for a few employees that were washing off utensils so that they could clock out. Before him stood a boy with sleek ebony hair and lustful hazel eyes.

"David," he murmured.

"Ryan." David smiled. The upper buttons of his uniform shirt were undone, revealing his collarbone and sculpted muscle underneath lightly bronzed flesh.

Ryan looked around; praying fervently that someone of authority would appear so that he would not be left alone with this attractive and manipulative boy. Something isn't right, his mind warned him.

David sauntered up, invading the blond's personal space. "You know, I've noticed that you seem quite lonely."

"Y-Yeah. I suppose I am lonely," Ryan stammered, taking a step back. His dreams and thoughts were always filled with the boy he watched from afar, wishing that he could have. That he couldn't have. Troy.

"My," David chuckled, his voice soft, seductive, "is it just me, or is it getting hot in here?"

Recognizing the flirtatious innuendo, the blond assessed the danger factor of the situation. Yes, David was plenty attractive and probably experienced, not to mention oh-so close, but he couldn't! There was the matter of Sharpay's attraction to the alluring employee as well as the fact that his own heart belonged to another. Shar likes David! I'm in love with Troy! I can't do this! I can't! He felt his back hit a wall. He was trapped, cornered, and David was drawing in ever nearer, his eyes flashing green with a predatory gleam.

"D-David, we shouldn't be doing this!" Ryan protested, his eyes wide in trepidation. "We-!" He was cut off, silenced as the older boy laid a finger to his lips.

"Hush now. Mr. Evans, I know the stress you've been under lately." David's words were thick, smooth, dripping from his mouth like syrup as he nuzzled Ryan's pale, slender neck. "I can make all of those bad feelings go away." His dense form pressed wantonly against the blond's petite one.

The performer could feel the needy length of the dark-haired male against him, and he bit down on a groan, tensing with mingled pleasure and disgust. This is wrong! "D-David, don't! No! Stop!"

"Stop!" He cried, his eyes shut tight.

"Ryan! Ryan!" Troy's tenor-baritone filled his ears, a thunderclap of concern.

Staring into those ocean orbs, he recalled the lust in David's hazel eyes and was overwhelmed, swept up in a nauseating tide of guilt, shame, and self-loathing. After that memory resurfaced, he simply couldn't face Troy. I've been unloyal. Unfaithful. I've soiled our relationship. Tears pricked at his eyes, blurring his vision and his stomach churned violently. His lunch rose up, the foul taste flooding his mouth and he fled, stumbling blindly across the building until his legs buckled and he collapsed.

He wretched pitifully as he spewed his last meal onto the tile floor. When he had finished the vulgar, loathsome deed, he slumped into a trembling heap, the bitter taste lingering on his taste buds. Sitting there, unable to summon the strength to stand, he felt strong hands slip underneath of his arms and gently lift him until he was righted. He recognized from the strength of the touch who it was that held him. And as his body crumpled he fell back against the hard, dense frame of the boy he loved. "Troy…!"

"Shh… I got you baby." The brunette athlete held the blond tightly, rocking him and whispering soothing words until the tremors of his petite body subsided.

"Troy, I didn't mean to! It was David! He wanted me! Sh-Shar…!" Burying his face in Troy's chest, he let the pent up tears slide down his cheeks.

Although he didn't understand what Ryan was talking about, he suspected that he had drudged up a memory that was better left buried in the seraphial boy's subconscious. The rift between the Evans siblings had obviously formed as either a direct, or indirect result of this travesty involving some guy named David and Sharpay's unwillingness to trust her brother. Troy, however, held not a shred of doubt in the truth of his lover's words. Whatever happened, he could tell from the electric pulses running through the boy's body that Ryan was not to blame. "I believe you, Ryan. It's not your fault. I believe you."

The flow of the smaller boy's tear began to cease as Ryan was comforted by the basketball god's words and his presence. Troy believes me! Troy believes me! He cuddled against the warm muscle of the brunette boy that had once again prevailed at saving him from himself. A feeling was welling inside of him; one that had become almost foreign to him. Within, the hole that had existed for so long in his chest began to seal itself up. "It's thanks to you, Troy," he told him, twining his arms about the athlete's waist. "You're making me whole once again."

Hearing these words, Troy smiled and held his Ryan tightly. I'm fixing him piece by piece by piece… He felt rewarded by being informed that Ryan knew of his task by being informed that Ryan knew of his task, his vow and acknowledged that he was accomplishing it. But he knew, just as Ryan himself did, that there would be no real closure for either of them until their families accepted their relationship and Sharpay forgave her brother.

A rough road lay ahead of them, the path uncertain, but they could take solace in the company of one another. Without each other, their chances for survival were slim.