A/N: I'd like to take a moment to thank everyone who is still reading this. I'm sorry that it has taken so long, but we're nearly finished.

Thank you so much for your kind comments and encouraging words along the way.

This chapter contains content that fully utilizes the "M" rating. If this does not tickle you pink, but in fact, turns you green with nausea, or perhaps red with outrage and embarrassment, the back button is there to service you.

Chapter 34: Alive

"Aah! Aah!" Ryan yelped.

Troy thrusted into the smaller boy. Although his motions were gentle and loving, he was acting on the vow that he had made that night when he nearly lost the person who mattered the most to him. He wasn't holding anything back.

Ryan recalled the nights when the Evans' mansion would be empty, everyone else having left to attend a social event, leaving him alone. He would creep cautiously down the steps and curl up on the sofa in the den, watching "Supernanny" on the Style Network. He would observe the way the nanny, Jo Frost, would intervene in a troubled household of squabbling, bickering, ill-behaved little hellions and their unstable parents. Jo ensured that even the children who had no voice in all of the chaos, were heard.

Those children had a confidante in Nanny Jo, an unexpected ally. The sight of those kids breaking down because they were so overcome with relief, always brought Ryan to tears. He knew what that felt like, to be utterly alone, to be left without a voice and no one to turn to.

That had all changed.

Breaths came in strained gasps. Every time Troy jerked his pelvis forward, Ryan moved to meet him, the sweet contact causing the both of them to emit barely restrained exclamations. Heat scored through their bodies. With every thrust, the younger Evans twin felt his grip on reality slipping, and there was no urgency to reclaim it.

"Oh, Troy!" He cried out, his voice sounding strangely detached from his physical form.

"Ryan!" Troy leaned into Ryan, the virile boy's body heat enveloping the smaller blond. Troy's sweat slicked, sculpted chest and abdomen felt so good to Ryan while they were rubbing against the blond boy's own petite, skinny body. "Ryan! Aah!" And with those cries of pleasure coming from the brunette, Ryan knew that he, himself must have felt just as amazing to Troy.

Recently, the two of them had watched Donnie Darko. Donnie, the main character, was told that he possessed the ability to time travel by the apparition of a six foot tall man in a rabbit suit, named Frank. Donnie, played by Jake Gyllenhaal, was the dictionary definition of "troubled youth", calling his mother a "bitch" to her face, defacing public property, mouthing off to his teachers.

Yet, Ryan Evans and Troy Bolton found themselves immersed, drawn into Donnie and his bizarre universe as it spiraled toward its demise.

By the end of the movie, Ryan's eyes shone with tears.

Sensing the blond's distress, Troy had turned to comfort him. "Ry? Baby, what's wrong?"

"He didn't have a chance, Troy." Ryan murmured, his voice quaking. "He didn't give himself a chance."

Troy, realizing what had just clicked in his boyfriend's mind, opened his arms up wide and drew the smaller boy into an embrace, soothingly rubbing his back.

"Ohh…! Oh, Troy! Troy!" As he came closer to his climax, Ryan found the need to control his volume leaving him in the same manner that his sanity was. In that moment, that glorious moment, there was only him and Troy.

Troy's beautiful voice, calling out his name. "Ryan! Ohh… Ryan, yes, fuuuuuck…!"

"Troy, yes…! It's so-! You're so…! Yes!"

"It was his choice, Ryan. He made it, just like you made yours."

Ryan turned up to face the brunette, something within him stirring at the truth of Troy's words.

"You chose to stay. To keep fighting."

Yes, yes, he did.

"Yeah, it might not be easy. Neither choice is, but…"

"Yes?" Ryan encouraged him, his voice quiet, his tone almost expectant.

"You'll have a future to look forward to that isn't as bad. And," a bashful smile tugged at the corners of Troy's pink lips. "I'm gonna be there for you, every step of the way."

Ryan smiled, the tears moistening his eyes now existing because of an entirely different emotion. "I'll be there for you, too," he promised. "To do whatever I can."

Troy leaned down, nuzzling his nose against Ryan's. The blond male felt that his heart would swell until it burst.

- DLMD-

Nights ago, they had laid together on Ryan's bedroom floor, discussing life.

"Ry?"

"Hm?"

"What do you think most people want out of life?"

Ryan considered this for a moment, choosing his phrasing carefully, before finally replying, "We're all looking for testament, I think. For proof that there's something worth living for in this world. Whether that something is a stable career, or a place to sleep at night. Whether it's love, and acceptance, or solitude and sanctuary. Or, maybe, to leave something behind to forever preserve your memory." He chewed at the inside of his lower lip, worried that he would need to retract his statement.

Troy gave a nod, then his brows furrowed. "But, here's what I don't get." He turned to face the actor. "If nearly everyone wants the same things, why are some of us considered outcasts?"

Ryan's eyes widened. Mere months ago, the notion that he would holding a philosophical discussion with his high school's golden boy while laying on the brightly colored carpet covering his own bedroom floor, would have been shrugged off as a result of pure lunacy. Yet, here they were. His thin brows knitting together in contemplation, the theater king replied slowly, "Maybe it's because we have a different approach to going after what we want? Or… maybe it's because people look at us with the slant of fear, and disgust, so they view what we want, even if it's the same as want they want, as radical, and disgusting, too."

There was a moment of silence.

"Ryan?"

"Hm?"

Troy's eyes glowed softly. "I never thought of you as "disgusting"."

Ryan scooted in closer to him, laying his hand over top of the other boy's larger appendage. "I-I appreciate that," he relayed, his tone affectionate. "You may be a bit on the "radical side", " an amused smile tugged at the ends of his mouth, "but there is absolutely nothing "disgusting" about you, either." I just wish that the rest of the world could see it that way.

- Save Me-

As Troy called out Ryan's name, Ryan's body tensed, and then, he erupted, clinging tight to the virile boy's backside.

"Trooooy!"

A second later, after some erratic and frantic thrusting accompanied by uneven, staccato breaths, Troy came, too. Panting laced the air as he crumpled down on top of the smaller blond boy. "Oh, Ryan. You're so…!" He flopped over onto the mattress. "Ryan, I love you… I love you…" He cuddled Ryan close to his body, enveloping the performer in his strong arms as he repeated the profession

Each time the three harmonic syllables were uttered, Ryan felt his body tingle with bliss. As Troy went about dotingly cleaning the both of them up, Ryan returned the declaration with full gusto. "Troy, I love you, too." His voice broke slightly. If it had broken before anyone else, Ryan would have been ashamed of how pathetic he sounded, how vulnerable. But not with Troy.

With Troy, there was nothing to be ashamed of. Ryan Evans had no reason to be ashamed.

-DLMD-

Stepping back, Ryan took in his sister's attire. The elder blond twin wore a silky pink tank top with a short sleeved, white, sheer covering. Her blouse cut just above her cleavage line. Her lower half was clad in a tight, lacy black skirt. Flesh colored knee highs were stretched up her curved legs. Her feet sparkled in the diamond encrusted sandals Ryan recalled searching for during the first week of the school year.

The ventures of that day, including his vomiting episode, were all part of a series of memories that, try as he might, he would never be able to fully erase from his mind. They were seared into his brain.

"How do I look, Ry?"

As Sharpay proposed the question, the younger twin's mind transported him back to that day at the mall. His sister had stood before him then, much the same as she was now, modeling a new outfit.

Then, the closeness of their relationship had all been an external facade that he could easily see through. Sharpay's voice had been cold, distant; her brown eyes hollow, and teeming with frigid apathy as she looked upon him.

Now…

"Ryan?" The note of concern in his twin's voice brought Ryan back to the present day.

Reaching out, he adjusted the barrette clipping back several strands of the girl's now straightened golden tresses. A sincere smile tugged up the corners of his mouth. "You look great, Sis."

Today was the day of the highly anticipated performances. Ms. Darbus sat in the house of the auditorium, armed with her clipboard and pen, where she eagerly awaited the display of teamwork and compatibility from her young thespians.

It also marked the first time that the Evans twins would be performing for an audience without each other. For a moment, the thrill of performing, the drive that fueled their existence, left the pair of siblings.

Sharpay intently studied her brother's smooth face. His dazzling smile had returned to decorate his face with all of its radiant beauty. A feeling of warmth swelled in her chest, her throat tightening.

Noticing the shift, Ryan's brow line crinkled. "Shar, what's wrong?"

"You're alive, Ryan," she affirmed softly, her eyes speaking more than words ever could as tears swam on their liquid brown surfaces. "Nothing could ever be wrong with that."

Ryan could feel her love for him, thick and oozing in his chest. It was a wonderful feeling, one that he was convinced he'd never feel again. The twins embraced tightly, and the younger Evans felt tears prick his eyes for an instant. Over his sister's head, he spotted one of the reasons for his prolonged existence. The taller, virile brunette boy's attire was simple, nowhere near as flashy as the attire of either of the Evans children.

And, yet, it succeeded at both complimenting Ryan's own attire, and being perfect for Troy in every way.

"Thank you," Ryan mouthed to the other boy, even though those words could never truly suffice as a means of communicating the extent of his gratitude.

"No, Ry… thank you," Troy mouthed back, smiling and misty-eyed. There was no need to add the last part, even though he did so mentally. Thank you for choosing to live. For saving me… For being alive.

A/N: How will the performances go? I hope to see all of you in the next chapter so that I can give you the answer.