` Chapter 23: Buzz
"Hey Bolton, you coming to the party tonight?"
"What party?" Troy turned around to face Steve Vinge, a junior who had joined the team last year. Steve and his girlfriend, Hannah, a goth with studs in her left brow were standing at the brunette's locker.
"A couple of guys from last year's team are throwin' a party at Cross's place for the former team and hopefuls for this year's. There'll be drinks and you can bring a date," Steve informed him.
"A date…" Troy knew that Ryan had no pre-planned activities scheduled, so he would look into inviting the blond, but first he had something to be ensured of. "Are the bastards that ostracize Ryan and me going to be there?"
"Nah," Steve assured. "Those guys are dicks. Danforth made sure that they won't get within fifty feet of you and Evans."
Troy felt a rush of exhilaration. Good old Chad. Of course he could depend on his friend to keep the morons away.
"The only thing you'll have to worry about with Evans is everybody else wanting to get their hands on him," Hannah broke in. "He's nearly as hot as you."
Troy was aware of blush dusting his golden complexion. It's true, he told himself, Ryan is fucking hot. Irresistibly hot. If I want him so much, it's no small wonder that everybody else wants some of him. "I'll ask him what he's up to," he informed the pair.
"Great," Hannah smiled and he could see a flash of silver piercing her tongue.
Mentally, he compared it to Ryan and found the boy's tongue to be much more suited to catering to his needs sans ring.
- Don't Let Me Drown-
"Ryan do you drink?"
"I've had the occasional wine. I'm more of a fan of mixed drinks."
"Not a beer fan, huh?"
The blond crinkled his nose; an expression of distaste for the beverage. "I can't even tolerate the smell." He watched as the brunette paused, toying with the formation of the words he meant to speak.
"There's a party tonight. Some of the guys on last year's team are throwing it to usher in this year's. You're allowed to bring a date."
Ryan found himself to be the focus of that intense blue stare, a position he wanted no other to have. The intended question was unnecessary. He was an actor, versed in picking up cues and even more so within the miniscule and ever-so-precious time frame that the two of them had become an "item", he came to know the divine being better than Troy knew himself. "I'll go with you." The words were simple in themselves but as with many they exchanged, significance was never in short supply.
A smile made its way across Troy's face. Instead of expressing thrill for having a date, he thought only of the blond that he loved so profusely and how, not even a month ago, he would still have been lying there, depriving himself of all the necessities for a healthy existence, light, food, and friendly interactions with an organism that was capable of linguistically communing with him. "I'm proud of you," he relayed, his voice soft, almost cooing.
"Really?" Ryan felt his heartbeat slow to a standstill.
Troy stepped into his personal space, their chests touching gently together; black pinstriped silk against red plaid. His hands situated themselves, thumbs threading through the belt loops of the performer's white dress slacks.
-Save Me-
Inebriated teenagers laughed boisterously at nonsense stories and dirty jokes as they stood idly, their drinks in hand.
Chad and Taylor cuddled on the couch, the curly-haired athlete running a hand up and down the girl's shoulder.
Jason and Kelsi sat on chairs, chatting in a diplomatic fashion before the brown-eyed boy leaned in and gave the composer a shy kiss in the cheek.
Troy and Ryan entered, slowly descending the staircase into their friend's basement.
The heads of a nearby group turned.
"Hey Bolton, you made it!" A lean Asian boy exclaimed.
"Troy, man!" Jimmie Zara's earnest tone made itself heard over the music and the general commotion.
"Hey," Troy smiled awkwardly.
Ryan lingered at the boy's side, unsure of what to do. The majority of these people were neither his friends nor his associates. In fact, he was fairly certain a great deal of them were less than pleased by his presence, but as Troy had assured him in the car, "We're partners. Where I go, you go. If they want me to be there then they just have to suck up their attitudes and deal with it. The moment some asshole says or does something I don't like, we're out of there."
As one who was skilled in his profession for all his lack of abilities in the area of parties in a crowd with which he did not mesh, Ryan had an idea of what was required of him. Show no intimidation. Stay close to Troy. His peripheral vision spotted a gaggle of girls already so drunk they were finding standing up arduous eyeballing him and giving him that unmistakable look he had seen his sister give Zeke before reaching into his fly. And whatever you do, he advised himself, stay as far away from those girls as humanly possible! Blanching slightly, he leaned into Troy, seeking protection from the brunette's sturdy frame. As if psychically connected, Troy's arm wrapped about the blond's shoulders, drawing him in close.
"Hey Chad!" Troy waved at his friend who gave him a nod from the couch.
"Hey Troy!" Jason held up a hand, waving as Kelsi pounced on him, squealing something about brown eyes and then kissing him passionately.
"Alright!" Troy flashed the boy an earnest grin and the thumbs up, proud of his progress.
Ryan was also glad to see Kelsi's affections being directed at the right person. A glance at Troy and the both of them recalled their startling revelation from several days before. A revelation they'd sooner not dwell on.
Zeke and Sharpay were nowhere to be seen and although the blond actor was dismayed, he tried not to let it afflict his mood. Troy and I are here to have fun.
Near the middle of the room, Ryan spotted a table of refreshments covered with a tarp of orange vinyl. Troy must have seen it as well, for he whispered, "Let's head over there," and began steering the petite male toward the furnishing and the adolescents clustered around it. Pretzels, nachos and cheese and various flavors of potato chips sat in bright orange plastic bowls on the tabletop, obviously meant to ensure that the beer chuggers would have something with which to fill their stomachs and stave off the effects of full-blown intoxication.
For Ryan, however, it was not intoxication that prioritized consumption of the snack food items.
"What do you want?" Troy's tenor baritone inquired as he picked up two plates and handed one to his lover. "There's pizza too."
Ryan's gaze slid to a stack of cardboard boxes that had evaded his sight upon entry. "Surprise me." His words were accompanied by a weak smile. The prospect of eating all of that junk food and then downing an alcoholic beverage on top of it was already inducing a sensation of nausea.
"Alright. Stay right here."
Ryan waited, trying to fight off the wave of terror that crashed over him as the golden boy left his side. Calm. Keep clam. Troy will be right back.
Out of the corner of his eye, he could see Jimmie crossing to his lover and he couldn't help wondering what the sophomore was doing mingling with a crowd of hard-partying, liquor swigging adolescents. He's hardly finished going through puberty. I hope the half-pint isn't drinking. The lanky brunette sophomore was attempting to strike up a conversation with his hero, their words inaudible to Ryan, drowned out by the overpowering bass from the sound system. From his posture, Troy was unimpressed but attempting to feign interest as he removed several slices of pizza from the box and set them on a plate for transport. Troy doesn't need the responsibility of chaperoning both of us. Warily, Ryan eyed the other food items, his stomach complaining about his indecisiveness. Make up your mind and hurry up and put something in me! It demanded.
"I watched all of your techniques carefully last year," Jimmie gushed, following Troy back to the blond. His lips formed a smile that was slightly smug in its confidence. "I've mastered a few of them."
"That's great Jimmie," the older brunette's inflection was a stark contrast to the words it voiced.
"I'm sure to make the team this year," Jimmie continued, unswayed, "Just picture it, you and me- The Troy Bolton and Rocketman. Kings of the court!" His eyes sparkled with his ambitions and Ryan could tell that the boy was too far-gone, lost in his dream world.
Troy shot his lover a frantic look. Help me!
Coming to the aid of his love, the performer broke in, taking Troy's unoccupied side, "Sure you will. Keep working on that jump shot."
Re-entering the real world, Jimmie gave the male an earnest slap on the shoulder, "Thanks dude!" Energy blissfully radiated from him, signaling his soon-to-come departure.
With sincerity, Troy advised the boy, "And don't work yourself too hard, Rocketman."
Fan girlish glee filled Jimmie Zara's wiry frame as the boy shot off, making a beeline for a group of guys and girls whom were getting progressively more inebriated.
Turning, Troy gave Ryan a look of gratitude. "That's twice now that you've saved my ass, babe."
"Someone had to do it." The male twin shrugged off the deed, unable to take credit for it.
"Well, I'm glad that "someone" was you. Had it been anyone else, I wouldn't be able to reward them."
Heat crept into the fair pallor of Ryan's cheeks, coloring them a pretty light red that nearly matched his glossy lips. "'Reward' huh?" He drew the word out, his lips curling upward as his eyelids dropped, concealing half of his vibrant irises under a veil of lashes in a demure expression.
Troy's member gave a twinge at the all of the wondrous, fanciful splendors those two syllables held when they came from his lover's cherry lips. He put up a valiant struggle to suppress the urge to pin the slim dancer to the wall and begin kissing him violently. Fuck. Doesn't he know what he does to me? He twists my body into knots. The smile of his turns me insides to mush. And god, his voice. Delighted chills traversing his spine, the brunette recalled where he was and the responsibilities at hand. "You'll get a preview of what that reward is," he purred huskily, his tone intentionally teasing, agonizing the bulge at the front of his own jeans and causing the flush on Ryan's face to broaden and spread, allowing his hand to wander up the blond's neck "once you eat something."
Ryan tried not to feel disappointed, knowing Troy only had his best interests at heart. But the companion within his jeans had a mind of its own and possessed a tendency to think on its own behalf. With a smile, he voiced, "Alright, Captain Sunshine," and Troy commenced in handing off a slice of plain cheese pizza to him. He stared the food down, awaiting a nod before picking it up and taking miniscule bites out of the triangular slab. As he ate, Troy began piling up his own plate with nachos and pretzels. Ryan watched carefully, minding what the golden boy intended to ingest. "That's not good for you, you know,' he advised, addressing the cholesterol levels of the food items. The nachos in particular gave off a dangerous aura.
"None of this stuff is, but that's why it's a party. You're not supposed to be worried about food. "
Yeah, Ryan's internal voice noted abrasively, the drunkards trying to come onto people are more concerning than the clogging of your arteries.
"What would you like to drink?"
Ryan carefully considered this. Surveying all of the kids around him, so carefree, unburdened by the weight of the world and the complications of adolescence, he couldn't bear being a hindrance to Troy anymore. If I let loose and have fun, then so will Troy. "I'd like a strawberry daiquiri," he answered.
"Are you sure?" Troy's eyebrows knitted together, an expression of worry. He was the protective type, after all.
My knight in shining armor.
"Yeah," the actor replied, hoping his soft reassurance would prove persuasive enough.
Troy walked over to the cooler at the end of the table and pulled out two bottles. Before handing Ryan's drink over, he removed the cap, a reflexive motion of his that both of them had grown accustomed to. Popping the top on his own, the brunette clinked his bottle into the blond's and simultaneously they tipped them back, swigging the beverage down.
-Sinking-
A crowd formed, a circle closing in, ever tightening, and at the center was Ryan Evans dong one of the many activities his body had been honed to: dancing. His hips gyrating to the beat of the song blasting through the speakers, intoxication did nothing to impede the agile fluidity of his movements.
He raised his voice, singing along to the words of a song he knew well, a large cluster of drunken girls joining him.
Hey there sugar baby
Saw you twice at the pop show
You taste just like glitter
Running a hand down his body and back up, Ryan demonstrated his idea of "tasting".
Mixed with rock and roll
I like you a lot, lot
Think you're really hot, hot
He stepped forward and taking the hand of a tall boy, whom was rendered giddy and bashful by his state of inebriation, drew him into his dance.
Know you think you're special
When we dance real crazy
Stepping around the other boy, the theater king walked his fingers up his chest before playfully pushing him off to the side and discarding him.
Glamophonic, electronic
D-Disco baby
I like you a lot, lot
All we want is hot, hot
Boys, boys, boys
We like boys in cars
Boys, boys, boys
Buy us drinks in bars
Boys, boys, boys
With hair spray and denim
Boys, boys, boys
We love them!
From their positions on the sofa, Chad and Taylor exchanged a glance, unsure of how to react. Spotting Troy among the observers of the spectacle, a million dollar grin plastered on his face, obviously drunk, they knew something had to be done.
Her hands on her hips, Taylor gave her boyfriend a stern look, one he could never decline, her eyebrow arched. "Well, Mr. Danforth."
"I know. I'll handle it." With a sigh, Chad got up and made his way over to his brunette friend as Ryan continued to give his all in an "interesting" rendition of "Boys Boys Boys" by Lady Gaga. "Live," the bushy haired athlete quipped to himself, "one night, standing room only."
Baby is a bad boy
In some retro sneakers
Let's go see "The Killers"
And make out in the bleachers
I like you a lot, lot
Fired up by the energy of the blond, Jimmie Zara couldn't help but join in, pumping his fist as he exclaimed along with Ryan and the girls;
Think you're really hot, hot!
Let's go to the party
Heard our buddy's the deejay
Don't forget my lipstick
I left it in your ashtray
"Troy! Hey, Troy!" Chad whispered harshly into his friend's ear.
"Huh? Hey man!" Troy recognized his friend with a warm smile. "Wasssup?"
"Dude, you need to reign in lover boy."
"Ryan?" Troy looked genuinely confused as if unable to fathom what his sexy angel love has possibly done wrong.
"Yeah. He's like seriously making a spectacle of himself. Not to mention grinding against some guys who wouldn't be very pleased about if their higher brain functions were still working correctly."
"Aw, but Ryan's havin' fun!" Troy objected, his eyes softening into a puppy dog pout.
Chad would not be dissuaded. "That won't work on me, man. You've got to put a handle on this, now." He stood his ground, firmly planting his feet.
Sure enough, a spark of responsibility lit Troy's oceanic orbs and he walked onto Ryan's stage.
The moment Ryan sighted his lover, he felt his body inexplicably tugged the athletic boys' way. Troy. My Troy. Oh yes my sexy, beautiful love. Lovely love. Trooooy. Sashaying over, he positioned himself in front of the boy and began to grind against him, singing into Troy's ear, making both of their bodies ache with heat and longing. Unanimously, they shared the thought Yes! Ohh, fuck yes!
Within their minds, they were transported to the back of a stretch limousine, fingers running through each other's hair, tongues tangled inside of their mouths. Breaking off, Ryan ghosted his hands down his lover's body, thumbs brushing his nipples on the way down to his perfect six pack abdomen.
I'm not loose I like to party
Let's get lost in your Ferrari
Not psychotic, or dramatic
I like boys and that is that
It's love it when you call me legs
In the morning, buy me eggs
Watch your heart when we're together
Boys like you love me forever
And then they were being hoisted up, sustained in mid air by the able bodies of all the men in attendance who were suddenly shirtless, flaunting their rippling muscles in an expose' that only strengthened the ache between Ryan's legs. Their hands roamed down his body; his mind was on Troy. The athlete and the actor were then lowered to the ground, Chad, Jason, and Jimmie joining in the other males as they danced around the twosome, encircling them. Faster and faster the world spun, and Ryan was unable to keep up. His head was light, his throat burned and there was an internal feeling of certainty that he was going to spew the minimal contents of his stomach on Jason's basement floor. He felt his body swaying out of reach of his control.
He leaned against Troy, using the boy's powerful upper body as a support beam. "Troy…" he heard himself whimper pitifully.
The brunette's arm was around him, steadying, comforting as always.
"It's okay baby," Troy's tenor-baritone soothed him. "I got you…"
-Resuscitation-
Ryan wretched miserably into the toilet, each pained grunt absolute agony.
Troy held onto him, rubbing a hand down his backside every time the blond came away from the bowl, weakened from the strain of his stomach muscles.
Jason and Chad stood on standby, uncertain of whether or not to intervene.
It was Ryan who at last broke the silence by not wretching, but speaking up, his tone wry. "Sorry to be so much trouble."
Chad winced sympathetically.
"It's okay," Jason assured him. "You guys can stay if you want. A couple of other people are. It's not safe to drive when you're hammered."
Troy paled with gratitude. "Thanks a million, man. Don't worry, Ryan and I will keep it down and we'll be out of here first thing tomorrow."
Chad's gaze shifted from his friend to the boy in his arms. "You gonna be alright, Ryan?'
"Yes," Ryan answered, his voice cracking slightly.
"I hope so, Troy's brow line creased in concern.
Biting his lip, the blond felt nothing but shame for his senseless shenanigans and the worry that they had needlessly caused.
Troy, however, simply held him, letting him snuggle into his chest.
-Don't Let Me Drown-
They lay back on the single bed in the guest room. Although it was rather awkward for both of them, especially since it was Jason's home and not their own, they came to a unanimous decision that they would sleep in their underwear for "comfort reasons". Of course, once their tongues were busily scraping over each other, the notion of sleep was pushed to the back of their minds. Ryan could taste
Troy's drink underneath the overpowering mint of the mouthwash he had swished and gargled to rid himself of the revolting taste of stomach acid and regurgitated alcohol.
With a throaty grunt, Troy pulled him in deeper, deeper, their bodies joining.
It was sometime during this that Ryan's mind left him.
A/N: I'm back! I had been meaning to sit myself down and type the this chapter up for my devoted readers, but I never had the motivation… until I came across the literary fecal matter known as "New Moon" by Stephenie Meyer. I was so enraged by Meyer's portrayal of her "protagonist" Bella Swan's depression and the girl's obscene selfishness regarding her situation, I got all the motivation I needed to get back to this story.
I promise you, dear readers, never again will I have you wait so long for the next update. Until then epiphanies and surrealism abound in the next installment. I hope to see you then.
Yours truly, Nek0_sama.