Rehearsals, Part Three
The space behind the curtains is weirdly quiet, like the thick red drapes have stolen all the sound from the stage. On the other side, the rumble of the crowd as they shuffle to their seats is audible, but back in the darkness of the stage before curtain up there is only hush.
Chad nudges Troy’s shoulder. The stage makeup washes him out, makes him pale as a ghost, and his eyes are huge and shining in the dim light. “You okay?” Chad mouths, and Troy nods and leans over so he can talk into Chad’s ear almost silently.
“Quietest I’ve heard Sharpay in months,” he hisses, and Chad has to stifle a laugh. Sharpay is pacing back and forth just behind the curtains, windmilling her arms and mouthing her lines to herself, making contorted faces like she’s in pain. It’s kind of hypnotic.
Ryan touches his elbow. “Curtain-up in five minutes,” he says softly. “You ready?”
And just like that, Chad is suddenly terrified. Nausea sweeps through him, and he sucks in a breath of air, dizzy.
“Hey,” says Ryan, and takes his arm. “Hey, breathe. It’s okay.”
“Don’t think I can do this,” says Chad, and sees Troy slap a hand over his eyes and shake his head.
“Yes, you can,” says Ryan in a low, calm tone.
“I’ve forgotten all the steps,” Chad says feebly.
“No, you haven’t,” says Ryan evenly. “Chill. You know this, okay? You’re good, you’re gonna be fine.” He takes Chad by the arms and squeezes, gives him a gentle shake.
Chad looks at him, and sees the gleam of Ryan’s teeth as he smiles. “You think?”
Ryan tousles his hair fondly. “This is gonna be awesome,” he says happily. “See you after.” And he bounces off.
Chad takes a deep breath and turns to Troy, who is looking between Chad and Ryan, fast disappearing into the gloom, with an expression that suggests he is thinking hard. Before he can say anything, the quality of the light shifts, the distant audience begins to settle, and Ms Darbus is suddenly swooping around like a giant bat, flapping at people, and banishing everyone from the stage into the wings.
The curtain goes up.
~
The energy backstage at the end of the show is startlingly similar to after a successful basketball game. The red curtains sweep closed on the sad tableau of the grieving families and the sound of thunderous applause, and then somebody shrieks, “We did it!” and everybody is laughing and squealing and rushing to hug each other, jumping up and down.
Chad somehow ends up with an armful of Sharpay, who he immediately releases, and then rushes over with the rest of the dancers to jump on Ryan. In the ensuing tackle-hug, he’s pretty sure he’s not the only one who cops a feel, given the startled look on Ryan’s face and the smug expression on Lindsay Martin. Girl’s teeny, but she’s determined.
Then the curtains sweep back open and it’s time for them to take their bows. Troy takes his bow with Sharpay, and keeps trying to step back and let somebody else have the limelight, but she hangs on for dear life, smiling toothily. Finally Troy scoops her up in his arms and carries her back behind the ranks of the rest of performers, to cheers and wolf whistles.
Chad slings his arm around Ryan’s neck when they take their bow, waving to the cheering crowd with his free hand and feeling Ryan’s shoulders moving against him. They step back to make room for Alan, who played Juliet’s unfortunate suitor Paris. His bumbling interpretation of the role gets him a solid two minutes of applause, and then the dancers swarm to the front to take their accolades with fluttering, graceful bows. Chad shoves Ryan up to take his kudos with them because if anybody deserves it, Ryan does, and then Sharpay drags Troy up for another round just as the curtain sweeps closed. Even Sharpay’s shrieks of rage at being entangled with the drapery can’t dampen their high spirits.
~
The cast party is held, unsurprisingly, at the Evans’ house. Every student who had anything to do with the musical is invited, and most of them show up - actors, dancers, singers, plus all the backstage assistants, sound guys, lighting guys, props people and costume designers. Sharpay turns on the karaoke machine, and Ryan mysteriously breaks it ten minutes later, and Chad doesn’t tell anyone about the plug he might have seen Ryan tossing out the window.
Troy sticks close to him, still wary of Sharpay. “She’s like a shark,” he says solemnly. “She can smell weakness.”
“I thought it was blood sharks could smell,” says Kelsi, and Troy squints at her.
“It’s a metaphor,” he points out, and Kelsi nods wisely. Like Troy, she’s hiding from Sharpay, not wanting to be put to work playing piano this evening. They both appear to be labouring under the delusion that standing very close to Chad is somehow going to protect them.
Ryan bounces up to them, grinning like a maniac. His eyes are shining, his cheeks are flushed and there’s a shine of sweat across his face. His stylish shirt is unbuttoned enough that Chad can see the shadows of his collarbones, and it takes him several second to realise that Ryan is actually talking.
“-so grateful to you guys, all of you, really. This show wouldn’t have been the same without you.” He shakes Troy’s hand enthusiastically and then hugs Kelsi, who squeaks.
Chad clears his throat and spreads his arms expectantly. Ryan makes a big show of hugging him, carefully keeping their bodies separate, and pulls away immediately, batting fastidiously at Chad’s chest. Kelsi giggles, but Troy has that thoughtful look on his face that Chad is starting to become wary of.
He’s almost relieved when Sharpay storms past in a snit, snagging Ryan by the sleeve and towing him along in her wake. Ryan stumbles after her, shooting Chad a look that clearly says ‘help me’.
She drags him into a corner of the room and proceeds to harangue him very, very quietly. Ryan folds his arms, examines his nails, and generally looks exceedingly bored.
Chad catches his eyes deliberately, and winks. Troy and Kelsi have started a deep and meaningful discussion on - hair products? Something like that - so he edges away, a few inches at a time. Ryan's gaze flicks between Sharpay and Chad, eyes widening slowly when Chad reaches Ryan’s bedroom door and lounges against it, all casual until he leans on the handle, oops, and the door opens and he grins cheekily and slips inside.
He counts under his breath as he fumbles for light switch, and barely gets to ten before the door opens, letting the music and heat of the party in before Ryan ducks through and shuts the door behind him.
Chad doesn’t even have time for a teasing comment before Ryan grabs him, muttering “Jesus, Chad, what the hell. In front of everybody, you crazy bastard.”
Their mouths crash together as Ryan hustles him back towards the bed, a dim, lumpy shape in the unlit room. Chad has a brief moment of nervousness when Ryan coaxes him out of his shirt, but then Ryan pushes him back onto the bed and starts licking his nipples and any protest Chad might have is lost.
He’s dimly aware that Ryan is doing other things - shrugging out of his soft white button-down shirt, leaning over to flick on the bedside lamp, gasping for air as he urges Chad further up the bed to lie against the pillows, but Chad can’t concentrate on anything, because in between it all, Ryan keeps dipping down to kiss him breathlessly, lick and suck at his chest, run his hands over Chad’s skin, touching him everywhere. It’s all Chad can do to lie there and feel, just breathe and let Ryan touch him, let the sensation rush over him.
When he feels Ryan twist and settle between his legs, he makes a helpless noise and bucks up, unable to stop himself. He’s still got his jeans on, but Ryan’s weight is resting comfortably right against his dick, exactly the right kind of pressure for Chad to grind up against, all incredible friction. And then of course Ryan smirks at him - a wobbly smirk, but a smirk nevertheless - and ducks his head to attach himself to Chad’s nipple, biting softly and flicking his tongue against it over and over.
It’s too much, and Chad opens his mouth wide, gasps for air. “Ryan, Ryan. God, stop. I’m gonna - I - ”
“What?” says Ryan, and his voice is rough, wrecked. “You’re gonna what?”
He punctuates the question with a roll of his hips, and Chad whines, high in his throat. “Oh. Oh. I’m gonna really embarrass myself.”
Ryan makes this noise, this amazing broken noise, and squirms, hard, grabbing at Chad’s hair to kiss him, over and over. “God, don’t tell me to stop,” he says fiercely, between kisses. “Don’t say stop, Chad, I wanna see you, please, I want, don’t make me stop.”
“Oh, fuck,” says Chad in a strangled voice and clutches blindly at the smooth skin of Ryan’s back, struggling for air. Ryan doesn’t let up, layering messy kisses on Chad’s face and neck, grinding his hips down into Chad’s with jerky, unpractised movements, and Chad comes just like that, his vision whiting out and a buzzing in his ears, arching up and squeezing his eyes closed as it rushes over him, spreading out along his limbs and leaving him shaking.
Ryan doesn’t stop moving, thrusting down and groaning, and then he goes still and trembling with a choked-off noise, panting like he’s just run a race. He collapses in a boneless heap on Chad’s chest, pressing his face into Chad’s neck and making a soft, almost pained noise. Chad touches the back of his neck, runs his fingers down the long line of his spine, slick with sweat, and tries to remember how to breathe.
~
A knock at the door rouses them an indeterminate amount of time later. Chad is jerked out of a light doze, and Ryan sits up straight beside him with a snort. “Wha?” he says, making a face.
“Um,” says Kelsi from the other side of the door. “Um, Troy’s looking for Chad. I’m not saying you know where he is, but if you do happen to see him, if you could let him know that Troy is ready to leave. If you see him.”
Ryan and Chad exchange a look, and Chad shrugs, too mellow to get really worked up about the insinuation. “Okay, Kels,” Ryan calls. “If I see him, I’ll be sure to. Uh. Tell him.”
“Thanks,” says Kelsi. “Most everyone’s gone home now,” she adds. “And everybody that’s left is in the kitchen, except Sharpay is showing Troy the view from the balcony.” She pauses. “He really wants to leave soon.”
Chad turns to press his face into the pillow to muffle his laughter. Kelsi would make the worst secret agent ever, but she’s so cute he can’t really hold it against her.
“I should go,” he says quietly once Kelsi’s footsteps on the hardwood floor have faded. Ryan makes a cute little disappointed face, and Chad ruffles his hair fondly, pushing it back off his face. “I know, dude.”
“You’ll come by this weekend?” asks Ryan, a touch anxiously. “Oh, wait - the twins’ recital is Saturday, isn’t it? Maybe we could do something after that.”
“And by ‘do something’ you of course mean…?” Chad sits up, swings his legs over the side of the bed, and winces as the movement forces him to become aware of the sticky, sorry state of his pants.
“Make out,” says Ryan brightly. “More of the same.”
“Okay,” says Chad, grimacing. “Next time we do it without pants, though.”
Ryan’s face flushes at that, his eyelids drooping, and he bites his lip, gaze sliding over Chad’s bare chest. “Yeah?” He shifts his weight and leans forward, and Chad can see the exact moment the uncomfortable wetness in his designer slacks registers. “Okay, gross. Definitely pantsless next time.”
Chad can’t help laughing at Ryan fastidious distaste, but they don’t hang around for niceties: Ryan blushingly lends him some clean shorts {“Dude, you iron your underwear?” “Don’t you?”) and they sneak shamefacedly down to the kitchen to find Kelsi and Dave the Sound Guy trading horror stories about Sharpay. Ryan rolls his eyes and exits, returning two minutes later with Troy in tow and the sound of Sharpay’s displeasure echoing after them.
Chad takes one look at Troy’s frankly traumatised expression and takes him in hand. “Come on, buddy. You want to get out of here?”
“You left me alone with her,” says Troy in a faintly accusing tone, letting himself be led. “You let her get me.” He seems dazed and slightly distressed.
“In a roomful of people, I left you,” says Chad, exasperated. “With Kelsi right there.”
Troy stops dead, digging in his heels and looking around wildly. “Kelsi. Shit. I was supposed to give her ride home.”
“I’m here,” says Kelsi, scampering down the corridor towards them. “Just saying goodnight.” She smiles up at Chad, who realises that she is attempting to look knowing, and what seemed like a not a big deal at all when he was sweaty and contented and post-coital suddenly seems rather terrifying in this new land of dry pants and a clear head.
“Right,” he says with a deep breath. “Let’s blow this joint.”
Troy sags against him, possibly in shock, and Kelsi giggles happily.
~
He plays basketball with the guys on Saturday morning before he has to run off for the twin’s ballet recital. He hadn’t realised he’d missed this - hadn’t realised that there was anything to miss, that he’d been spending more and more time with Ryan, dancing, kissing, just hanging out. It’s good, it’s great, he likes spending time with Ryan - likes it a lot, truth be told, but he has actually missed spending time with Troy and the team. They’re so uncomplicated in their eagerness and team spirit, and while spending time with Ryan leaves him with the constant feeling of spinning dizzily and never quite catching his breath, hanging out with the team is comfortable, familiar, safe.
They play out on the court at the back of the Boltons’ in the cooling fall air. Sometime while Chad was hiding himself under the stage with Ryan, the seasons turned, and leaves have gone all colours, and the air has become crisp and chilly in the mornings. Chad revels in it, running from one end of the court to the other, bumping shoulders and slapping backs and high-fiving, letting himself get caught up in the energy of the game, the competitiveness. It’s not like dancing with Ryan, it’s not like anything else. It’s just Chad and his friends doing what they do best, what they love, and by the end of it he’s flushed and panting and can’t quite wipe the grin off his face.
“It’s good to have you back, man,” says Zeke warmly when they’re done. He thumps Chad on the back, grinning. “Was afraid we were gonna lose you to the drama geeks.” There’s no malice in his tone, just friendly teasing, but Chad hides a flinch.
“Lay off,” says Troy lightly. “Nobody makes fun of your hobby.”
“Are you kidding?” says Zeke, looking insulted. “You guys mock me all the time!”
“That’s ‘cause you keep trying to prove us wrong about how worthwhile baking is,” Jason remarks smugly, and stuffs a cookie in his mouth to make his point. “Keep it up,” he says, muffled, and everyone leans back from the spray of crumbs.
“Everyone up for pizza for lunch?” inquires Troy after a few more minutes of kidding around. There’s a chorus of affirmative answers, but Chad shakes his head.
“I gotta get back. The twins have a thing.”
“Aw, man,” complain Jason. “You’re ditching us for the Evans?”
Everyone goes kind of quiet, and Zeke smacks Jason in the head. Chad stares. “Dude. The twins? Nicole and Jessica? My baby sisters? They have a ballet recital this afternoon.”
Jason looks ashamed. “Yeah. Right.” He looks around. “Uh, sorry.”
Chad stares at the ground, feeling his face burn. “It’s fine. Sorry. I should get going.”
“I’ll walk you out,” Troy offers, and they head over to the side gate.
“Like Chad would ditch us for them,” he hears Zeke saying to Jason, not quietly enough.
“Like he hasn’t been,” replies Jason, and Chad stumbles over the uneven paving.
Troy catches his arm. “Ignore them,” he says in a low voice. “They don’t get it.”
Chad leans tiredly against the brick wall of the house. “Ryan’s coming to the recital. The girls asked him to.”
Troy looks at him with those big blue eyes and the permanently wounded expression he seems to wear these days. “You and he are - uh.”
Chad closes his eyes and nods. “Yeah. I guess.” It’s not like Troy hasn’t already figured it out, anyway. “It’s not a thing. We haven’t talked about it. But.”
Troy wags his hands around, eyes widening. “Dude, I don’t want details.”
Chad laughs a little. “Sorry. I don’t even know what it is.”
Troy sighs and leans against the wall beside him. “You like him?”
“Yeah.” He doesn’t even have to think about that one. “But we’re not - it’s not like we’re boyfriends. We’re not dating.” He pauses, scuffs the toe of his shoe against the ground. “I don’t think.”
“Is it - different?” Troy asks hesitantly. “From girls, I mean?”
“I thought you didn’t want details?” says Chad, almost ready to tease.
Troy makes a protesting noise. “Not that. I mean. Like. You’re not dating? But you’re doing - other things? I don’t think girls do that.” He sounds confused and perhaps a little wistful.
Chad shrugs, uneasy. “I haven’t really thought about it. We’re friends.”
“You and I are friends,” Troy points out, reasonably.
They think about that for a while, and Chad snickers. “Dude.”
“I know, right?” says Troy, and then they’re both laughing, nearly doubled over, howling with mirth that is as much nervous discomfort as it is humour.
“I’m sorry, man,” says Chad, once they’ve stopped laughing. “I know this is weird for you.”
“And it’s not for you?” says Troy. “I know you, man. You’re confused as hell.”
Chad shrugs. “I guess.” He stares at the ground. “I don’t think there’s really a how-to guide on this one, you know? I don’t quite know how to do this.”
Troy’s quiet for a while, and Chad sighs and pushes himself away from the wall, heading for the front gate. “I better get going.”
“Say hi to Ryan for me,” says Troy, not moving. “Oh, Chad?”
Chad turns back. Troy is leaning against the wall, frowning slightly. “Yeah?”
“You should talk to him. Ryan, I mean. If it’s bothering you.” He shrugs. “You guys should probably work it out together, you know?”
Chad nods. “Yeah, maybe. See you later?”
Troy just waves.
~
The recital is a resounding success. Neither of the twins mess up or forget their steps. Chad’s mom brings the video camera and films the whole thing, cooing at all the appropriate moments. Ryan wears a suit and brings two big bunches of roses.
Chad, for his part, spends most of the afternoon repressing the insanely strong urge to drag Ryan under the dusty stage and get that pristine suit all dirty and rumpled. From Ryan’s smirk, he knows this all too well.
The girls jump all over the place after the show is done, hyped up on adrenaline and giggling like loons. They both insist on walking back to the car hand-in-hand with Ryan, leaving Chad to carry the flowers, and then Ryan has to sit in the backseat so the twins can fawn on him.
“Ryan,” says Nicole very seriously when they get to the restaurant for dinner.
”I have to ask you something.”
“What is it, pumpkin?” Ryan is sitting between the twins again, but Chad can’t be too upset about that, because Ryan looks so sweetly uncomfortable at the attention. He kicks Ryan fondly under the table.
“When I get bigger, will you marry me?”
Chad chokes on his drink. Beside him, he can hear his mother give a hysterical little giggle. Jessica looks furious - Chad suspects she’s mad that Nicole got in before her - but Ryan just smiles calmly, like he’s totally used to marriage proposals from little girls. “Sure thing, baby girl. If you still want me when you’re old enough, we’ll talk, okay?”
“Awesome!” Nicole bounces gleefully in her seat, then kneels up on her chair to give Ryan a smacking kiss on the cheek. Ryan rolls his eyes at Chad, but he’s smiling.
The waiter comes to take their orders, and Chad is bemused to see both girls wait until Ryan has ordered his meal before they ask for exactly the same thing. He catches Ryan’s eye and they share a grin.
“Chad, are you all right to babysit tonight?” his mother asks as they traipse back out to the car.
Chad stops in his tracks. He’d forgotten his mother had asked him to watch the girls this evening while she went out for one of her rare nights with the girls. He’d already been planning to go back to Ryan’s and spend some quality time licking him all over.
“Um,” he says. Beside him, Ryan tips his head and smiles charmingly.
“What do you think, girls?” he says. “I can come too. We can watch movies.”
“And braid each other’s hair and talk about boys?” says Chad under his breath.
“My hair’s not long enough to braid,” smirks Ryan, and tugs on one of Chad’s curls fondly.
The twins, naturally, are all for that idea, and Chad is mildly disturbed by his mother’s knowing smirk, so he ends up in the bathroom wrangling a pair of hyperactive eight-year-olds into their pyjamas while Ryan perches on Mrs Danforth’s bed and gives her expert tips on getting her mascara just right.
To be fair, his mother does look fantastic when she finally breezes out the door, and Chad points Ryan to the couch and sits the twins on either side of him with big mugs of hot chocolate and some twinkly, girly movie playing on TV.
Forty-five minutes later, his plan is successful - the twins, over-tired and worn out from a long day, begin to nod off. He enlists Ryan’s help to carry the dozing kids to their beds, tucks them in, kisses them goodnight and firmly closes the door behind them.
“Well,” he says tiredly. “That was less painful than I expected.”
“You’re pretty good at getting them to sleep,” Ryan notes, playfully pressing him up against the door. “All competent and responsible. It’s kind of hot.”
“Pervert,” Chad accuses, and Ryan laughs and licks his neck, and then Chad has to shove him towards his own bedroom on the opposite side of the hallway. They crash into the doorframe, Ryan saved from getting a concussion only by Chad’s hand cupping his skull, and fall laughing and wincing onto the bed.
Chad shoves Ryan’s shirt up to his armpits, impatient, and bends to put his mouth on Ryan’s belly. Ryan makes a strangled noise and the muscles jump under Chad’s lips as he squirms and gasps, “Oh - oh, that tickles, Chad, fucking hell.”
Chad laughs softly and considers blowing a raspberry against the pale skin, but Ryan squirms out from under him, yanking at Chad’s clothes. “Come on, come on. You promised no pants this time.”
Chad feels a thrill of something in his belly - lust, nerves, sheer panic - and swallows hard as Ryan unbuttons his own shirt and shrugs it off. He sits up and pulls his t-shirt over his head, hearing Ryan’s breath catch and struggling not to jump when Ryan returns the favour and kisses the skin over his ribs, light and teasing.
“You sure?” says Chad, running his fingers through Ryan’s fine, blond hair. “Be sure.”
Ryan gives him this adorable “Bitch, are you kidding me?” look, and Chad feels his chest tighten. God, he is so, so gone on this guy.
They somehow manage to get naked, fumbling and shaking and awkward, and Chad’s face heats when Ryan’s gaze wanders over and down his body, eyes heated and lustful. He drops his own eyes - Ryan is pale all over, lean and mostly hairless but for a soft dusting of hair below his navel leading down to - Ryan is a natural blond, definitely. Chad swallows.
Skin-on-skin is a shock, Ryan pressing him onto the bed with his hands on Chad’s hips and following him down until they’re lying beside each other, legs all tangled together, so much skin. Ryan’s face is flushed pink, his mouth round and open, pupils blown, and Chad looks at him and thinks, I can do this. This is Ryan, and I can do this.
He kisses Ryan slowly, carefully, rubs his hands over the familiar places - Ryan’s shoulders and neck, the soft, ticklish place under his ribs, the dip of his spine. Ryan touches him too, stroking over his face and neck, pulling him closer to kiss him, wet and messy and uncontrolled.
Chad’s hands fumble nervously on nothing but bare skin as they skate down past Ryan’s waist, down past where they would normally be stopped by belts and pants and invisible lines saying no further. Ryan makes a soft, pleased and strokes his knuckles over Chad’s belly, too firm to tickle. “Chad. Can I - can I?”
“Oh God, please,” says Chad and Ryan laughs and then it’s easy, not awkward at all, just Ryan’s hand on him, smoother and softer than he’s used to, but so tight and good. And it’s not strange at all to touch Ryan in return, to curl a hand around and watch his eyes go lazy and his breathing speed up.
It’s a weird angle, and Ryan keeps moving, restless little jerks of his hips that mess up Chad’s rhythm, and oh Ryan’s hand on him is making it hard to concentrate. He throws one leg over Ryan’s thighs, trying to keep him still, but Ryan takes it as an invitation and moves into him, until they’re so close their knuckles are bumping on each pass. Chad can see stars dancing in his peripheral vision; feel the tight, eager curl of his orgasm beginning to build in his belly, embarrassingly soon.
But Ryan stiffens in his arms suddenly and comes, making a sweet, low noise, and tightening his grip almost painfully. Chad blinks out of his fugue long enough to watch, Ryan’s blissed-out face, the way his whole body shudders, hips pushing restlessly up into Chad’s hand.
He’s so taken up with the way Ryan looks, and the quiet, amazing noises he’s making, that his own orgasm takes him completely by surprise, washing over him out of nowhere: Ryan’s hands on him, warm breath on his face, warm body beside him, the demanding rush of blood in his ears, Ryan in his bed, right there.
~
His mother is not an idiot. She smiles sweetly and cooks Ryan breakfast and sends him off home. The minute he’s out the door, she turns around and rips Chad a new one for fooling around when he was supposed to be watching the girls.
Chad is also not an idiot, so he hangs his head, says yes mama, no mama, sorry mama at all the right times. Then, to his horror, she sits down across the table and gives him a look. “Now, Chad, you know I have to ask.”
“Mom,” he pleads. He really doesn’t want to have this talk. “Haven’t we done this? When I was, like, eleven?”
“I just need to know that you’re being safe.” She looks almost as embarrassed as he feels. “Do you need me to, you know, get anything for you?”
“No! I mean, yes!” blurts Chad. “I mean, we’re being safe, Mom. We haven’t - you don’t need to - oh, my god.” He covers his face.
She chuckles. “Okay, honey. You can always talk to me, you know?”
Chad mutters something that probably isn’t, “When hell freezes over,” and eats his pancakes.
~
Part Four