Fic: A Little Song, A Little Dance, A Little Swing [High School Musical // Ryan/Chad] [Chapter 1]
Chad sat down on the floor of the practice room, leaning against the wall as his sweat cooled on his body. "Why did I make that bet?" he groaned. His feet and legs were in more pain than he could remember them ever being, more even than after any of his track meets or practices. Even worse, the rest of his body ached, too. Holding his arms in the strict dance position upon which Ryan insisted was much more work that he'd expected, and the muscles across his back and shoulders were telling him exactly that with every breath.
"Because you still don't realise just how much game I have," Ryan retorted, grinning from where he stood towering over Chad. He was sweating, sure. No one could do what they'd just been doing and not be, Chad knew. But for all of that, he wasn't winded, and did not seem to be in any pain. Instead, he was almost glowing.
Chad stamped down on that line of thought immediately.
"You'd think I'd know better, after that baseball game," Chad said, leaning his head back against the wall with a solid 'thump'. "Ow," he said, eliciting a laugh from Ryan. He watched as Ryan moved across the polished, hardwood floor, not quite able to keep from noticing the play of muscle in Ryan's back, visible where his shirt clung tight to his skin with the sweat of their exertions. He'd never noticed before, likely never would have if it weren't for this, but he was truly starting to realise that Ryan hadn't stopped being an athlete just because he'd stopped playing baseball.
"Ryan?" he asked, suddenly filling the silence. The word came just as Ryan stopped the music, where the CD had kept going after their dance ended, and it echoed through the room. Ryan turned to look at Chad, his expression curious. “I was wondering something."
"I'm not going to give you a blowjob just so you can see if guys give better head," Ryan said, almost immediately. Chad had to wonder how many times he'd been asked that. Maybe how many times it had been other Wildcats -- and how many times, drunk at a party or feeling the need himself, Ryan had given in.
He shook his head. "No, it's not that," Chad insisted. "I was..."
Ryan, who'd already started walking back across the floor, stopped for a moment, waiting for Chad to continue; when Chad didn't, Ryan asked, "What? I mean, I'm sorry. What's up?"
"How do you know you're gay?"
There was a long silence. Eventually, Ryan stepped forward, leaning back against the wall and letting himself slide down it so that he was sitting next to Chad. "It's not exactly something I've ever had to think about," he said. "I mean, I've never exactly been closeted. I swear, sometimes I think I came out of the womb barfing rainbows." That got a snort out of Chad, a half-hysterical one.
"But it's. I mean. It's still a stereotype, that you'd have to be gay just because you're into theatre, or musicals, and dance and stuff. So how do you know? For sure?"
It took Ryan a moment longer to respond, here. Chad thought that maybe he was choosing his words carefully, trying to figure out how to explain a feeling with a woefully inadequate language. (A small part of him, at this , directed a mental 'Hah!' in Taylor's direction. She'd never thought him capable of any kind of analysis. Although, truth told, Chad had never tried before, not like this.) Finally, Ryan turned to face Chad directly. "I guess saying, 'Liking guys is a bit of a giveaway!' isn't very helpful, is it?" he asked. "Although that's a big part of it. I've never really thought about girls the way I think about guys. And it's not all sexual, either, even if that's a big part of it. Hey, we're seventeen, right? It's expected.
"But I've never wanted to go on a date with a girl, or wake up in bed with them, or cook them breakfast. I always picture guys that way, like it's all part of the the same thing. The date, the sex, the breakfast... The whole fantasy."
Chad nodded slowly. He almost turned to face Ryan, could feel Ryan's gaze on him, feel it weighing him, measuring him. "So that's it?" he asked. "You like guys, and not girls, so you're gay."
There was a nod, a slow one, from beside him. Chad could feel the air moving, practically, and see it, out of the corner of his eye. "That's about it," Ryan agreed. "I mean, there's really not much more to it. You're right -- the theatre, the dancing, it's all a stereotype. Even the way I act. Hell, half of that's... learned, I guess. Or a side-effect of living with the drama magnet that is Sharpay Evans."
"Even the hats?"
"Oh hell no you did not just comment on the hats." But Chad was able to look at Ryan, finally, to turn his eyes toward his friend, and he could see Ryan's bright smile. "Why are you asking, anyway? I mean, it can't just be that you're curious. You're... You're not wondering about yourself, are you? Because if you're about to tell me that you're gay, that would be the fulfillment of about seven different fantasies of mine, half of which include the later involvement of half a tub of Nutella and a bowl of whipped cream."
Chad stared for a moment, his eyes wide, and finally he broke out into full-on laughter. "Nutella?" he asked, once he could get the words out between guffaws. "You have fantasies involving Nutella?"
Ryan grinned. "Well, no, but I figured it would break the tension. You know that if you are thinking of coming out to me, I won't say anything, right? And I won't think it means you want to date me, unless you tell me that, too. Just because there are two gay guys in the same school doesn't mean they (we?) automatically need to fall into bed together."
Chad hesitated, words catching in his throat. "I've... been wondering for a while," he admitted. "Pretty much since the baseball game this summer. There were a few comments from some of the Wildcats after we changed clothes, and it got me thinking."
"So where has your wondering brought you?" Ryan asked. "Have you come to any conclusions?"
There was a soft nod, a quiet catch of breath. Chad had looked down again, not meeting Ryan's eyes. "I think... I don't know if I'm gay," Chad admitted. "Maybe I'm bi. I've always thought I liked girls. But I think I like guys, too."
There was a moment of silence, only the distant tapping of rain against the roof, barely audible in the bunker-like practice room at East High. Chad felt Ryan's arm snake around his shoulders, felt it pulling him into a comforting embrace. "You're not the first guy who's come out to me at East High," Ryan admitted. "I won't tell you who, I mean, it's not my secret to tell, but I thought it would help you to know that we're not alone, you and I. There are others out there. Of course, none of them are as fabulous as I am."
"That would be pretty hard," Chad pointed out. "None of them can afford your collection of hats."
"Exactly," Ryan agreed, and Chad was hard-pressed to decide whether or not Ryan was being serious. "But, I mean, we can always... If you ever want to talk," he said. "You've got my number, right? From when we were rehearsing for the talent show this summer?" Chad nodded, and Ryan pulled away a bit. "And I mean it," he added. "I'm not going to expect anything, just because you're into guys. I mean, I wouldn't complain, but don't feel you have to rush into anything. This is new for you, and it's a big decision even admitting it to yourself. Let yourself take things as slow as you need to."
There was another moment. Chad nodded, slowly, and then turned to face Ryan once more. "Thanks," he said, smiling again, softly at first, and then into a wider, brighter grin, one that felt familiar on his face. Without thinking about it, Chad leaned in, to give Ryan a kiss on the cheek. It wasn't something Chad remembered doing for anyone, well, not anyone but his grandmother, but it felt right, at that moment, like it was what he was supposed to do.
And, Chad had to admit, the blush that grew across Ryan's face was certainly worth it.
"Seriously, thanks," Chad repeated. "And maybe sometime, we could go out for coffee?"
"I'd like that," Ryan said. "Coffee sounds great."
The bet had been simple: the first person to hit a home run off the other's best pitch got to order the other to do one (non-sexual, Chad had felt the obligation to insist upon; Ryan had rolled his eyes) thing with the other. Chad had planned to order Ryan to try out for the year's baseball team with him; he hadn't given much thought to what Ryan might insist upon. After all, as great a pitcher as Ryan was, Chad was more than confident in his own abilities at bat.
But Ryan had won the coin toss, and chosen to bat first. Chad hadn't worried much about that, either, since he figured that Ryan must be out of shape, out of practice, and Chad had the best fastball on the East High Wildcats baseball team.
Except, from the minute he heard the resounding crack, he knew he'd lost. He hadn't even needed to turn around and see the ball fly past the fence at the edge of the field.
"So when's the competition again?" Chad asked, struggling with his chopsticks. Ryan almost had enough pity for him to ask for a fork, but he was enjoying the spectacle too much.
"We've got another month," he assured Chad. "I mean, I wouldn't have asked you to do this if I hadn't thought there was time to prepare."
The two were sitting at a table -- Ryan's usual table, although he didn't think Chad had realised that -- in a little Chinese restaurant tucked out-of-the-way in downtown Albuquerque. Ryan had just finished his own meal, and was waiting for Chad to eat the last of his before ordering a dessert. "So you've still got time to make my feet, y'know, work," Chad said, grinning. "That's good."
It had been a month already since the two had had their discussion in the East High dance practice room, and Ryan was pleased that the two of them had become closer friends. Chad was busy with the Wildcats, sure, and Ryan had his drama club obligations. Still, they'd made time around all of that to hang out at least once a week, starting with coffee, and graduating up to full-on dinner. Ryan had been very careful not to call them dates; he hadn't, after all, wanted to freak out Chad. Still, he was starting to think that they might be something very much like dates.
And he was also starting to think that this was not a bad thing. Not a bad thing at all.
Ryan stamped down that thought, instead turning back. "Here," he said, reaching over to readjust Chad's fingers so that the chopsticks would sit properly. "Let me help you with that."
"I can do it!" Chad insisted, pulling away, but he did take a moment to readjust them. "Just, can you show me one more time? With yours, I mean."
Ryan obliged, picking his chopsticks up and letting them settle into the familiar grip. "Got it now?" he asked, grinning. To his surprise, Chad actually seemed to. It was still a little awkward, but his command of the chopsticks was enough that he was able to finish his meal, and quickly.
"So, got anything planned for the rest of the night?" Chad asked. "Or do you want to hang out? I mean, we only ever seem to rehearse, and go for dinner or whatever. I was thinking maybe we could rent a movie or something.
Ryan hesitated for a moment before replying. He wasn't sure if what he was reading into this was actually what Chad was thinking. "That... could be fun," he said, finally, and not entirely enthusiastically; Ryan's heart dropped a bit when he saw how Chad's face fell. "No! I mean, I'd like to, I just. I don't want to..."
"Push me?" Chad asked. Ryan nodded; that was, after all, what he'd promised not to do. "Dude, it's just a movie. And, I mean, I like you. You're a good friend. Friends can hang out, watch movies, right?"
"Right," Ryan agreed, although he really had no idea. The last time he'd had a friend before Chad was when he played little league, and that had ended rather explosively when he'd tried to kiss little Tommy Norton behind the equipment shed. "Friends can totally watch movies." His only other friend -- and, yes, Ryan knew full well how sad this was -- was Sharpay, and the only movies they watched together, Sharpay picked out. And then she'd spend half of it critiquing the fashion being worn by the lead, or -- if it was a musical -- complaining about how she could play the role so much better.
She'd even said that about Legally Blonde, and it had been all Ryan could do not to blurt out that his sister was definitely not Laura Bell Bundy.
"So c'mon. I mean, we can stop and rent one, or I've got lots at home. Mom's even got some musicals."
Ryan laughed. "You'd watch a musical with me?" he asked. "I wouldn't have thought you'd be into that at all."
Chad shrugged, smirking a bit. "Well, if you like them so much," he said, "they've got to be doing something right. I figured I could give them another chance. Just as long as we don't watch Phantom of the Opera."
"I am so not showing you anything by Webber," Ryan insisted. "If you want to come over to my place, I've got a copy of Into the Woods. Stephen Sondheim at his best."
The minute he said it, Ryan knew that he'd hate what Chad said next. He was right.
"Who's Stephen Sondheim?"
"Chad, my friend, you have so much to learn."
The night was going better than Ryan had expected, really. There was none of the weird tension he'd thought there would be, and while, yes, he certainly wouldn't object to spending the movie making out with Chad, there didn't seem to be any expectation of it.
And Chad was enjoying Into the Woods.
"I've got to call my mom," Chad said, as the DVD hit intermission. Ryan obligingly reached for the remote to pause the movie before it started up again. "If I don't call when I'm going to be late, I lose the car for a week."
"What time do you need to be home by?" Ryan asked. "I mean, we can stop here if you need to."
Chad shook his head. "No, it's okay," he said. "I mean, I just need to call. She'll understand if we're watching a movie. Honestly, if I tell her I'm watching and enjoying a musical, she'll probably buy me a cake or something."
"... Because you're watching a musical?"
"Dude, have I not told you about her Michael Crawford diet plan?"
Ryan wasn't going to ask. He was not going to ask. There was no way he wanted to know whatever it was that Chad was talking about.
"Michael Crawford diet plan?"
"I have no idea," Chad explained. "All I know is that it involves a picture of Michael Crawford in the refrigerator. Not on, in. Honestly, I've skipped some meals just because I was too freaked out by it to open the fridge and get something to eat."
Yeah. Ryan really hadn't wanted to know that. "Chad?" he said. "Your mother is weird."
"Trust me, I know," Chad replied. "I've been living with her for seventeen years."
Chad got up and stepped away, just outside the TV room door, to make the call to his mother, and Ryan had to admire the manners; there weren't a lot of guys their age that he knew who would do that, that he knew of. Most of them, Ryan thought, would just make the call there, manners be damned. Ryan, waiting, sat back into the couch and toyed with the remote. He was just contemplating getting up and grabbing some popcorn when Chad returned. "I'm safe," he said, grinning. "I told her I was with a friend and we were watching a movie. She said it was fine, and to give her a call when I'm on my way home so she'd know to expect me."
"That's reasonable," Ryan offered. "I mean, I'm not used to... My parents don't have those kinds of rules for Sharpay and I. I guess we're kind of spoiled, that way. But it's a lot better than I guess I thought rules like that would be."
Chad nodded. "My parents used to be a lot more strict, too," he explained. "Part of it's just that I'm a senior now, I think. But it's... I dunno. It's kinda like, ever since I... Y'know. Told you. I've been more confident or something, or confident in a different way, and I think it's helped my parents trust me more."
"Well, you are being more honest with yourself," Ryan pointed out. "I've kinda noticed it, too. You're less cocky, I guess? Not that being cocky's a bad thing, but it's like you trust yourself more. Less bravado."
Chad flopped back down onto the couch beside Ryan, letting his arms run across the back; if Ryan shifted just a bit, he knew, Chad's arm would be more-or-less right across his shoulders. He didn't move.
But that was okay, because Chad did move, letting his arm fall across Ryan. Ryan tensed at the touch, at first, and he felt Chad start to move away. He forced himself to relax, to lean in, and he smiled as Chad relaxed, too, leaving his arm where it was.
Ryan reached out to grab the remote, turning the movie back on, but other than that, neither moved until the movie ended.
"Chad! Where were you last night?"
Chad frowned at Troy's words, thinking back -- he'd spent the evening with Ryan, but that wasn't anything unusual, not lately. They'd rehearsed, first, for the dance competition, and then gone from there to a diner on the outskirts of town that Chad loved -- and now, so did Ryan. He wasn't about to tell Troy this, of course, as it would require far too much explanation, but he couldn't think of anything that would cause Troy to ask that particular question. "I was out," he said, shrugging. "Why, what's up?"
"I was trying to get ahold of you all night," he said. "Wasn't your phone on?" Chad reached down to his pocket, wondering why his phone hadn't rung, but it was obvious when he pulled it out: seventeen missed calls, four text messages, and a little icon at the top of the screen indicating 'silent mode'. He'd forgotten to turn his ringer back on after rehearsal. All but one of the calls, and all four text messages, were from Troy. The last call was from this morning, from Ryan, about half an hour before.
"Sorry, man," Chad said, honestly contrite. "What's going on? Normally you don't try sixteen times to call me."
Troy, Chad realised, was looking a little bit frantic. Or worried. Some kind of agitated-ness-thing. "There's rumours going around that you're..." Troy glanced up and down the hallway, and, when he was satisfied that no one was close enough to hear, he leaned in and whispered, "dating Ryan Evans."
Chad blinked once. Twice. Tried to come up with words to respond to that. "Seriously?" he asked. "No, we've been hanging out a lot, but we're just friends."
"Yeah, but isn't he..." Troy trailed off. "I mean, not that there's a problem with that. I mean, he is, but you're not, right? You'd have told me if you were?"
"Were what? Gay?" Chad grinned. A tiny part of him (well, perhaps not so tiny) was feeling delighted at the little bit of malicious revenge, for the way Troy had treated them all at Lava Springs this past summer. "Why?" he asked. "Got any reason to be interested?"
The sight of a flailing Troy was more than enough to satisfy the malicious little voice, but not enough to push Chad so far as to feel guilty. Lava Springs -- for all the good it had brought in the end -- had hurt. "What? No! I mean, I'm straight! You know that. I love Gabriella!"
"Then why the interest?" Chad asked. "You don't want me for yourself, so whether I'm gay or straight really shouldn't matter to you, should it?"
There was a moment before Troy spoke. "I... guess not?" he answered, sounding entirely uncertain of himself. "But... does that mean you're gay?"
Chad contemplated banging his head against his locker door. He barely resisted the urge. "I'm not dating Ryan Evans," he said. "We're just hanging out." He grabbed the last of the books he needed for his first few classes and turned to walk away. He was unable to resist looking back over his shoulder, though, and adding, "I think I might want to date him, though. You don't know if he's single, do you?"
Okay, now that little malicious voice was satisfied. That spluttering flail was delicious.
"Chad!"
Chad turned to see Ryan running towards him. "Hey," he said, smiling. "Sorry I didn't answer my phone earlier, I left the ringer off after rehearsal yesterday. And I think I just came out to Troy."
"Did he ask you about the rumours?"
The bell rang just as Chad nodded. "Yeah," he said. "I'm not worried about them if you're not. Listen, you want to meet up at lunch? I've got something I want to talk to you about."
"Sure," Ryan agreed, nodding. "Want to just meet in the cafeteria, head out from there?"
"Sounds like a plan." Chad shifted his books a bit and grinned. "I'll see you then. Save me a seat." He turned back towards his class, unable to stop from smiling.
Of course, the day was destined to go downhill from there.
Part One | Part Two | Part Three
Fanmix
"Because you still don't realise just how much game I have," Ryan retorted, grinning from where he stood towering over Chad. He was sweating, sure. No one could do what they'd just been doing and not be, Chad knew. But for all of that, he wasn't winded, and did not seem to be in any pain. Instead, he was almost glowing.
Chad stamped down on that line of thought immediately.
"You'd think I'd know better, after that baseball game," Chad said, leaning his head back against the wall with a solid 'thump'. "Ow," he said, eliciting a laugh from Ryan. He watched as Ryan moved across the polished, hardwood floor, not quite able to keep from noticing the play of muscle in Ryan's back, visible where his shirt clung tight to his skin with the sweat of their exertions. He'd never noticed before, likely never would have if it weren't for this, but he was truly starting to realise that Ryan hadn't stopped being an athlete just because he'd stopped playing baseball.
"Ryan?" he asked, suddenly filling the silence. The word came just as Ryan stopped the music, where the CD had kept going after their dance ended, and it echoed through the room. Ryan turned to look at Chad, his expression curious. “I was wondering something."
"I'm not going to give you a blowjob just so you can see if guys give better head," Ryan said, almost immediately. Chad had to wonder how many times he'd been asked that. Maybe how many times it had been other Wildcats -- and how many times, drunk at a party or feeling the need himself, Ryan had given in.
He shook his head. "No, it's not that," Chad insisted. "I was..."
Ryan, who'd already started walking back across the floor, stopped for a moment, waiting for Chad to continue; when Chad didn't, Ryan asked, "What? I mean, I'm sorry. What's up?"
"How do you know you're gay?"
There was a long silence. Eventually, Ryan stepped forward, leaning back against the wall and letting himself slide down it so that he was sitting next to Chad. "It's not exactly something I've ever had to think about," he said. "I mean, I've never exactly been closeted. I swear, sometimes I think I came out of the womb barfing rainbows." That got a snort out of Chad, a half-hysterical one.
"But it's. I mean. It's still a stereotype, that you'd have to be gay just because you're into theatre, or musicals, and dance and stuff. So how do you know? For sure?"
It took Ryan a moment longer to respond, here. Chad thought that maybe he was choosing his words carefully, trying to figure out how to explain a feeling with a woefully inadequate language. (A small part of him, at this , directed a mental 'Hah!' in Taylor's direction. She'd never thought him capable of any kind of analysis. Although, truth told, Chad had never tried before, not like this.) Finally, Ryan turned to face Chad directly. "I guess saying, 'Liking guys is a bit of a giveaway!' isn't very helpful, is it?" he asked. "Although that's a big part of it. I've never really thought about girls the way I think about guys. And it's not all sexual, either, even if that's a big part of it. Hey, we're seventeen, right? It's expected.
"But I've never wanted to go on a date with a girl, or wake up in bed with them, or cook them breakfast. I always picture guys that way, like it's all part of the the same thing. The date, the sex, the breakfast... The whole fantasy."
Chad nodded slowly. He almost turned to face Ryan, could feel Ryan's gaze on him, feel it weighing him, measuring him. "So that's it?" he asked. "You like guys, and not girls, so you're gay."
There was a nod, a slow one, from beside him. Chad could feel the air moving, practically, and see it, out of the corner of his eye. "That's about it," Ryan agreed. "I mean, there's really not much more to it. You're right -- the theatre, the dancing, it's all a stereotype. Even the way I act. Hell, half of that's... learned, I guess. Or a side-effect of living with the drama magnet that is Sharpay Evans."
"Even the hats?"
"Oh hell no you did not just comment on the hats." But Chad was able to look at Ryan, finally, to turn his eyes toward his friend, and he could see Ryan's bright smile. "Why are you asking, anyway? I mean, it can't just be that you're curious. You're... You're not wondering about yourself, are you? Because if you're about to tell me that you're gay, that would be the fulfillment of about seven different fantasies of mine, half of which include the later involvement of half a tub of Nutella and a bowl of whipped cream."
Chad stared for a moment, his eyes wide, and finally he broke out into full-on laughter. "Nutella?" he asked, once he could get the words out between guffaws. "You have fantasies involving Nutella?"
Ryan grinned. "Well, no, but I figured it would break the tension. You know that if you are thinking of coming out to me, I won't say anything, right? And I won't think it means you want to date me, unless you tell me that, too. Just because there are two gay guys in the same school doesn't mean they (we?) automatically need to fall into bed together."
Chad hesitated, words catching in his throat. "I've... been wondering for a while," he admitted. "Pretty much since the baseball game this summer. There were a few comments from some of the Wildcats after we changed clothes, and it got me thinking."
"So where has your wondering brought you?" Ryan asked. "Have you come to any conclusions?"
There was a soft nod, a quiet catch of breath. Chad had looked down again, not meeting Ryan's eyes. "I think... I don't know if I'm gay," Chad admitted. "Maybe I'm bi. I've always thought I liked girls. But I think I like guys, too."
There was a moment of silence, only the distant tapping of rain against the roof, barely audible in the bunker-like practice room at East High. Chad felt Ryan's arm snake around his shoulders, felt it pulling him into a comforting embrace. "You're not the first guy who's come out to me at East High," Ryan admitted. "I won't tell you who, I mean, it's not my secret to tell, but I thought it would help you to know that we're not alone, you and I. There are others out there. Of course, none of them are as fabulous as I am."
"That would be pretty hard," Chad pointed out. "None of them can afford your collection of hats."
"Exactly," Ryan agreed, and Chad was hard-pressed to decide whether or not Ryan was being serious. "But, I mean, we can always... If you ever want to talk," he said. "You've got my number, right? From when we were rehearsing for the talent show this summer?" Chad nodded, and Ryan pulled away a bit. "And I mean it," he added. "I'm not going to expect anything, just because you're into guys. I mean, I wouldn't complain, but don't feel you have to rush into anything. This is new for you, and it's a big decision even admitting it to yourself. Let yourself take things as slow as you need to."
There was another moment. Chad nodded, slowly, and then turned to face Ryan once more. "Thanks," he said, smiling again, softly at first, and then into a wider, brighter grin, one that felt familiar on his face. Without thinking about it, Chad leaned in, to give Ryan a kiss on the cheek. It wasn't something Chad remembered doing for anyone, well, not anyone but his grandmother, but it felt right, at that moment, like it was what he was supposed to do.
And, Chad had to admit, the blush that grew across Ryan's face was certainly worth it.
"Seriously, thanks," Chad repeated. "And maybe sometime, we could go out for coffee?"
"I'd like that," Ryan said. "Coffee sounds great."
The bet had been simple: the first person to hit a home run off the other's best pitch got to order the other to do one (non-sexual, Chad had felt the obligation to insist upon; Ryan had rolled his eyes) thing with the other. Chad had planned to order Ryan to try out for the year's baseball team with him; he hadn't given much thought to what Ryan might insist upon. After all, as great a pitcher as Ryan was, Chad was more than confident in his own abilities at bat.
But Ryan had won the coin toss, and chosen to bat first. Chad hadn't worried much about that, either, since he figured that Ryan must be out of shape, out of practice, and Chad had the best fastball on the East High Wildcats baseball team.
Except, from the minute he heard the resounding crack, he knew he'd lost. He hadn't even needed to turn around and see the ball fly past the fence at the edge of the field.
"So when's the competition again?" Chad asked, struggling with his chopsticks. Ryan almost had enough pity for him to ask for a fork, but he was enjoying the spectacle too much.
"We've got another month," he assured Chad. "I mean, I wouldn't have asked you to do this if I hadn't thought there was time to prepare."
The two were sitting at a table -- Ryan's usual table, although he didn't think Chad had realised that -- in a little Chinese restaurant tucked out-of-the-way in downtown Albuquerque. Ryan had just finished his own meal, and was waiting for Chad to eat the last of his before ordering a dessert. "So you've still got time to make my feet, y'know, work," Chad said, grinning. "That's good."
It had been a month already since the two had had their discussion in the East High dance practice room, and Ryan was pleased that the two of them had become closer friends. Chad was busy with the Wildcats, sure, and Ryan had his drama club obligations. Still, they'd made time around all of that to hang out at least once a week, starting with coffee, and graduating up to full-on dinner. Ryan had been very careful not to call them dates; he hadn't, after all, wanted to freak out Chad. Still, he was starting to think that they might be something very much like dates.
And he was also starting to think that this was not a bad thing. Not a bad thing at all.
Ryan stamped down that thought, instead turning back. "Here," he said, reaching over to readjust Chad's fingers so that the chopsticks would sit properly. "Let me help you with that."
"I can do it!" Chad insisted, pulling away, but he did take a moment to readjust them. "Just, can you show me one more time? With yours, I mean."
Ryan obliged, picking his chopsticks up and letting them settle into the familiar grip. "Got it now?" he asked, grinning. To his surprise, Chad actually seemed to. It was still a little awkward, but his command of the chopsticks was enough that he was able to finish his meal, and quickly.
"So, got anything planned for the rest of the night?" Chad asked. "Or do you want to hang out? I mean, we only ever seem to rehearse, and go for dinner or whatever. I was thinking maybe we could rent a movie or something.
Ryan hesitated for a moment before replying. He wasn't sure if what he was reading into this was actually what Chad was thinking. "That... could be fun," he said, finally, and not entirely enthusiastically; Ryan's heart dropped a bit when he saw how Chad's face fell. "No! I mean, I'd like to, I just. I don't want to..."
"Push me?" Chad asked. Ryan nodded; that was, after all, what he'd promised not to do. "Dude, it's just a movie. And, I mean, I like you. You're a good friend. Friends can hang out, watch movies, right?"
"Right," Ryan agreed, although he really had no idea. The last time he'd had a friend before Chad was when he played little league, and that had ended rather explosively when he'd tried to kiss little Tommy Norton behind the equipment shed. "Friends can totally watch movies." His only other friend -- and, yes, Ryan knew full well how sad this was -- was Sharpay, and the only movies they watched together, Sharpay picked out. And then she'd spend half of it critiquing the fashion being worn by the lead, or -- if it was a musical -- complaining about how she could play the role so much better.
She'd even said that about Legally Blonde, and it had been all Ryan could do not to blurt out that his sister was definitely not Laura Bell Bundy.
"So c'mon. I mean, we can stop and rent one, or I've got lots at home. Mom's even got some musicals."
Ryan laughed. "You'd watch a musical with me?" he asked. "I wouldn't have thought you'd be into that at all."
Chad shrugged, smirking a bit. "Well, if you like them so much," he said, "they've got to be doing something right. I figured I could give them another chance. Just as long as we don't watch Phantom of the Opera."
"I am so not showing you anything by Webber," Ryan insisted. "If you want to come over to my place, I've got a copy of Into the Woods. Stephen Sondheim at his best."
The minute he said it, Ryan knew that he'd hate what Chad said next. He was right.
"Who's Stephen Sondheim?"
"Chad, my friend, you have so much to learn."
The night was going better than Ryan had expected, really. There was none of the weird tension he'd thought there would be, and while, yes, he certainly wouldn't object to spending the movie making out with Chad, there didn't seem to be any expectation of it.
And Chad was enjoying Into the Woods.
"I've got to call my mom," Chad said, as the DVD hit intermission. Ryan obligingly reached for the remote to pause the movie before it started up again. "If I don't call when I'm going to be late, I lose the car for a week."
"What time do you need to be home by?" Ryan asked. "I mean, we can stop here if you need to."
Chad shook his head. "No, it's okay," he said. "I mean, I just need to call. She'll understand if we're watching a movie. Honestly, if I tell her I'm watching and enjoying a musical, she'll probably buy me a cake or something."
"... Because you're watching a musical?"
"Dude, have I not told you about her Michael Crawford diet plan?"
Ryan wasn't going to ask. He was not going to ask. There was no way he wanted to know whatever it was that Chad was talking about.
"Michael Crawford diet plan?"
"I have no idea," Chad explained. "All I know is that it involves a picture of Michael Crawford in the refrigerator. Not on, in. Honestly, I've skipped some meals just because I was too freaked out by it to open the fridge and get something to eat."
Yeah. Ryan really hadn't wanted to know that. "Chad?" he said. "Your mother is weird."
"Trust me, I know," Chad replied. "I've been living with her for seventeen years."
Chad got up and stepped away, just outside the TV room door, to make the call to his mother, and Ryan had to admire the manners; there weren't a lot of guys their age that he knew who would do that, that he knew of. Most of them, Ryan thought, would just make the call there, manners be damned. Ryan, waiting, sat back into the couch and toyed with the remote. He was just contemplating getting up and grabbing some popcorn when Chad returned. "I'm safe," he said, grinning. "I told her I was with a friend and we were watching a movie. She said it was fine, and to give her a call when I'm on my way home so she'd know to expect me."
"That's reasonable," Ryan offered. "I mean, I'm not used to... My parents don't have those kinds of rules for Sharpay and I. I guess we're kind of spoiled, that way. But it's a lot better than I guess I thought rules like that would be."
Chad nodded. "My parents used to be a lot more strict, too," he explained. "Part of it's just that I'm a senior now, I think. But it's... I dunno. It's kinda like, ever since I... Y'know. Told you. I've been more confident or something, or confident in a different way, and I think it's helped my parents trust me more."
"Well, you are being more honest with yourself," Ryan pointed out. "I've kinda noticed it, too. You're less cocky, I guess? Not that being cocky's a bad thing, but it's like you trust yourself more. Less bravado."
Chad flopped back down onto the couch beside Ryan, letting his arms run across the back; if Ryan shifted just a bit, he knew, Chad's arm would be more-or-less right across his shoulders. He didn't move.
But that was okay, because Chad did move, letting his arm fall across Ryan. Ryan tensed at the touch, at first, and he felt Chad start to move away. He forced himself to relax, to lean in, and he smiled as Chad relaxed, too, leaving his arm where it was.
Ryan reached out to grab the remote, turning the movie back on, but other than that, neither moved until the movie ended.
"Chad! Where were you last night?"
Chad frowned at Troy's words, thinking back -- he'd spent the evening with Ryan, but that wasn't anything unusual, not lately. They'd rehearsed, first, for the dance competition, and then gone from there to a diner on the outskirts of town that Chad loved -- and now, so did Ryan. He wasn't about to tell Troy this, of course, as it would require far too much explanation, but he couldn't think of anything that would cause Troy to ask that particular question. "I was out," he said, shrugging. "Why, what's up?"
"I was trying to get ahold of you all night," he said. "Wasn't your phone on?" Chad reached down to his pocket, wondering why his phone hadn't rung, but it was obvious when he pulled it out: seventeen missed calls, four text messages, and a little icon at the top of the screen indicating 'silent mode'. He'd forgotten to turn his ringer back on after rehearsal. All but one of the calls, and all four text messages, were from Troy. The last call was from this morning, from Ryan, about half an hour before.
"Sorry, man," Chad said, honestly contrite. "What's going on? Normally you don't try sixteen times to call me."
Troy, Chad realised, was looking a little bit frantic. Or worried. Some kind of agitated-ness-thing. "There's rumours going around that you're..." Troy glanced up and down the hallway, and, when he was satisfied that no one was close enough to hear, he leaned in and whispered, "dating Ryan Evans."
Chad blinked once. Twice. Tried to come up with words to respond to that. "Seriously?" he asked. "No, we've been hanging out a lot, but we're just friends."
"Yeah, but isn't he..." Troy trailed off. "I mean, not that there's a problem with that. I mean, he is, but you're not, right? You'd have told me if you were?"
"Were what? Gay?" Chad grinned. A tiny part of him (well, perhaps not so tiny) was feeling delighted at the little bit of malicious revenge, for the way Troy had treated them all at Lava Springs this past summer. "Why?" he asked. "Got any reason to be interested?"
The sight of a flailing Troy was more than enough to satisfy the malicious little voice, but not enough to push Chad so far as to feel guilty. Lava Springs -- for all the good it had brought in the end -- had hurt. "What? No! I mean, I'm straight! You know that. I love Gabriella!"
"Then why the interest?" Chad asked. "You don't want me for yourself, so whether I'm gay or straight really shouldn't matter to you, should it?"
There was a moment before Troy spoke. "I... guess not?" he answered, sounding entirely uncertain of himself. "But... does that mean you're gay?"
Chad contemplated banging his head against his locker door. He barely resisted the urge. "I'm not dating Ryan Evans," he said. "We're just hanging out." He grabbed the last of the books he needed for his first few classes and turned to walk away. He was unable to resist looking back over his shoulder, though, and adding, "I think I might want to date him, though. You don't know if he's single, do you?"
Okay, now that little malicious voice was satisfied. That spluttering flail was delicious.
"Chad!"
Chad turned to see Ryan running towards him. "Hey," he said, smiling. "Sorry I didn't answer my phone earlier, I left the ringer off after rehearsal yesterday. And I think I just came out to Troy."
"Did he ask you about the rumours?"
The bell rang just as Chad nodded. "Yeah," he said. "I'm not worried about them if you're not. Listen, you want to meet up at lunch? I've got something I want to talk to you about."
"Sure," Ryan agreed, nodding. "Want to just meet in the cafeteria, head out from there?"
"Sounds like a plan." Chad shifted his books a bit and grinned. "I'll see you then. Save me a seat." He turned back towards his class, unable to stop from smiling.
Of course, the day was destined to go downhill from there.
Part One | Part Two | Part Three
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