[fanfiction] never even crossed my mind . . .
Fandom/Pairings: High School Musical; Ryan/Chad
Rating: R.
Pre-Notes: Glitter Herpes 'verse set somewhere in late 2008.
Summary: There are lots of reasons to say no to Ryan, but Chad never does.
never even crossed my mind that I would ever end up here tonight
Logically, Chad knows that agreeing to go pick up Ryan from work is a really, really stupid idea. For starters, Ryan works in a gay strip club as one of the strippers but mostly Chad knows it's a bad idea because Ryan tends to be unpredictable early in the morning. Still, Chad hauls his ass out of bed at four in the morning and manages to navigate the city without getting horribly lost-which he counts as a definite plus. He also manages to make it all the way to Ryan's workplace without getting mugged, propositioned, or hit on-which is a definite plus. And then, because Ryan still has thirty minutes on the clock, Chad waves to the bouncer before heading in and plopping down at the bar. There aren't a whole lot of people around so close to closing.
Chad flags down the bartender, “Yo, Aidan.”
“Chad,” Aidan grins, “here to pick up Ryan?”
“Like usual. Can I get a coke?”
“Sure thing. Anything else?”
Chad shakes his head, “Nah, I have to work on a commission later.”
Aidan nods, passing down a can of coke to Chad while he waits around for Ryan. He's in a state between awake and asleep but the bass throbbing through the room makes it impossible to sleep. He knows that the people who work here can block it out and fall asleep during their breaks if they need to, but Chad doesn't spend enough time in the place to have that ability.
With nothing better to do, Chad turns toward the stage to watch the current dancer. It's someone he's been introduced to, but doesn't remember, and he's trying to figure out the guy's name-which is why he startles a little when Ryan pops up in front of him.
“Hey, Danforth. Do you want anything, while I'm on the clock?”
“I'm not paying for you to do your job,” Chad sighs, “I draw the line at dragging myself out of bed to walk you home.”
“I meant as a payment for you coming to get me,” Ryan says as he invades Chad's personal space, “My boss won't care if I give you one for free, we're almost clocked out and you buy your weight in soda every week anyway.”
There are a lot of reasons to say no to Ryan. There's are always a lot of reasons to say no to to Ryan, but Chad isn't very good at listening to them. So he rolls his eyes and drains the coke can.
“If we can't pay the rent this month,” Chad mutters as he drops the coke can on the counter, “I blame you.”
“Always,” Ryan smiles, “always.”
And then Ryan's plopping Chad into one of the chairs and depositing himself onto Chad's lap. It's a position they've been in before, though the bass line pounding in Chad's ears is new. He suspects that Justin Timberlake is playing, but he can't be bothered enough to actually pay attention. Instead, Chad rests his hands on Ryan's hips and lets him work his magic. It's slow and lazy, Ryan humming along to the beat as he grinds down, and not for the first time Chad realizes that Ryan actually likes what he does.
It's something that never ceases to amaze Chad, the way Ryan easily translates the rocking motions of his hips into a grinding that's one part frantic teenager, two parts interpretive dance, and all parts Ryan. Chad's still musing on that when Ryan rocks down in a way that makes Chad groan.
“Falling asleep on me, Danforth?”
“Yeah,” Chad says with more bravado than he has, “I think you've lost your touch, Evans.”
The only response Chad gets to that is Ryan leaning down to nip at his earlobe before grinding down in the spot that has Chad's hips trying to press up and chase the friction. Ryan smirks, though the effect is a little ruined by the way sweat has plastered his hair to his forehead and his cheeks are a little flushed.
“I'm pretty sure I've still got it,” Ryan whispers as he rocks down again, “or you've just gotten easier.”
The way Ryan's breath skates past Chad's ear causes his fingers to tighten on Ryan's hips in a way that will leave the kind of bruises that Ryan wears with pride. Generally, Ryan doesn't let people touch him but the rules have never really applied between the two of them so Chad's fingers digging into hipbones and leaving bruises is something that happens. Ryan laughs, a little hoarse and a little shaky, as he trails his hands up Chad's sides, hitching the shirt up and swaying in time to the music with the same lazy motions he uses on stage.
Only a person made of stone would be able to resist the beauty of Ryan writhing and rocking against them, and Chad is definitely not made of stone.
“Ryan,” he says.
Ryan rocks down perfectly just then and Chad only hears static for a couple of seconds before it registers that Ryan is totally laughing at him and climbing off. Chad shifts and notes that the pants he's wearing are a total lost cause, seeing as he totally just jizzed in them.
“You can borrow my spares,” Ryan says with the same insufferable smirk he always has, “just remind me to bring another pair.”
“I'm not doing the laundry.”
“Of course not, baby. I'm the one that knows all the best ways to get come out of clothes.”
That's the last thing Ryan says before he saunters off and Chad, reluctantly, follows him. Sometimes, he wonders why he never says no to Ryan. This isn't really one of those times.
----
Postit-Notes: This fic illustrates why Glitter Herpes!Chad has the hardest life. Sigh, poor Chad. He never really had a chance, you know.
This entry originally posted here. Original entry currently has
comments. :D
Rating: R.
Pre-Notes: Glitter Herpes 'verse set somewhere in late 2008.
Summary: There are lots of reasons to say no to Ryan, but Chad never does.
never even crossed my mind that I would ever end up here tonight
Logically, Chad knows that agreeing to go pick up Ryan from work is a really, really stupid idea. For starters, Ryan works in a gay strip club as one of the strippers but mostly Chad knows it's a bad idea because Ryan tends to be unpredictable early in the morning. Still, Chad hauls his ass out of bed at four in the morning and manages to navigate the city without getting horribly lost-which he counts as a definite plus. He also manages to make it all the way to Ryan's workplace without getting mugged, propositioned, or hit on-which is a definite plus. And then, because Ryan still has thirty minutes on the clock, Chad waves to the bouncer before heading in and plopping down at the bar. There aren't a whole lot of people around so close to closing.
Chad flags down the bartender, “Yo, Aidan.”
“Chad,” Aidan grins, “here to pick up Ryan?”
“Like usual. Can I get a coke?”
“Sure thing. Anything else?”
Chad shakes his head, “Nah, I have to work on a commission later.”
Aidan nods, passing down a can of coke to Chad while he waits around for Ryan. He's in a state between awake and asleep but the bass throbbing through the room makes it impossible to sleep. He knows that the people who work here can block it out and fall asleep during their breaks if they need to, but Chad doesn't spend enough time in the place to have that ability.
With nothing better to do, Chad turns toward the stage to watch the current dancer. It's someone he's been introduced to, but doesn't remember, and he's trying to figure out the guy's name-which is why he startles a little when Ryan pops up in front of him.
“Hey, Danforth. Do you want anything, while I'm on the clock?”
“I'm not paying for you to do your job,” Chad sighs, “I draw the line at dragging myself out of bed to walk you home.”
“I meant as a payment for you coming to get me,” Ryan says as he invades Chad's personal space, “My boss won't care if I give you one for free, we're almost clocked out and you buy your weight in soda every week anyway.”
There are a lot of reasons to say no to Ryan. There's are always a lot of reasons to say no to to Ryan, but Chad isn't very good at listening to them. So he rolls his eyes and drains the coke can.
“If we can't pay the rent this month,” Chad mutters as he drops the coke can on the counter, “I blame you.”
“Always,” Ryan smiles, “always.”
And then Ryan's plopping Chad into one of the chairs and depositing himself onto Chad's lap. It's a position they've been in before, though the bass line pounding in Chad's ears is new. He suspects that Justin Timberlake is playing, but he can't be bothered enough to actually pay attention. Instead, Chad rests his hands on Ryan's hips and lets him work his magic. It's slow and lazy, Ryan humming along to the beat as he grinds down, and not for the first time Chad realizes that Ryan actually likes what he does.
It's something that never ceases to amaze Chad, the way Ryan easily translates the rocking motions of his hips into a grinding that's one part frantic teenager, two parts interpretive dance, and all parts Ryan. Chad's still musing on that when Ryan rocks down in a way that makes Chad groan.
“Falling asleep on me, Danforth?”
“Yeah,” Chad says with more bravado than he has, “I think you've lost your touch, Evans.”
The only response Chad gets to that is Ryan leaning down to nip at his earlobe before grinding down in the spot that has Chad's hips trying to press up and chase the friction. Ryan smirks, though the effect is a little ruined by the way sweat has plastered his hair to his forehead and his cheeks are a little flushed.
“I'm pretty sure I've still got it,” Ryan whispers as he rocks down again, “or you've just gotten easier.”
The way Ryan's breath skates past Chad's ear causes his fingers to tighten on Ryan's hips in a way that will leave the kind of bruises that Ryan wears with pride. Generally, Ryan doesn't let people touch him but the rules have never really applied between the two of them so Chad's fingers digging into hipbones and leaving bruises is something that happens. Ryan laughs, a little hoarse and a little shaky, as he trails his hands up Chad's sides, hitching the shirt up and swaying in time to the music with the same lazy motions he uses on stage.
Only a person made of stone would be able to resist the beauty of Ryan writhing and rocking against them, and Chad is definitely not made of stone.
“Ryan,” he says.
Ryan rocks down perfectly just then and Chad only hears static for a couple of seconds before it registers that Ryan is totally laughing at him and climbing off. Chad shifts and notes that the pants he's wearing are a total lost cause, seeing as he totally just jizzed in them.
“You can borrow my spares,” Ryan says with the same insufferable smirk he always has, “just remind me to bring another pair.”
“I'm not doing the laundry.”
“Of course not, baby. I'm the one that knows all the best ways to get come out of clothes.”
That's the last thing Ryan says before he saunters off and Chad, reluctantly, follows him. Sometimes, he wonders why he never says no to Ryan. This isn't really one of those times.
----
Postit-Notes: This fic illustrates why Glitter Herpes!Chad has the hardest life. Sigh, poor Chad. He never really had a chance, you know.
This entry originally posted here. Original entry currently has
comments. :D