A/N: It's been a while, hasn't it? I'm so sorry. I know that I promised my dear readers a sequel to Introspective the last time we met, but, well, life happened.

I've nearly finished editing Don't Let Me Drown to prepare it for publication! While working on that, I've also been hard at work on art, I made a Tryan video that has gained a surprising number of views, despite it only being online for three months, and I got started on the one-shot follow-up to Introspective. During the typing and brainstorming for that, I stumbled across an older story with an interesting premise. I figured that I would type it up, revise it a little, and post it to make up for my absence.

Who would have guessed that I'd end up basically re-writing High School Musical 2, in the process? Certainly not me.

Disclaimer: I make no ownership claims to anything featured in this story. Most of the plot isn't even mine. All characters, songs, and elements pertaining to the High School Musical universe are © of Disney and Peter Barosschini, unless I somehow obtain the copyrights.

WARNING: This story, like the majority of my work, contains adult content, and relations involving two males. If this prospect just bitters your tea, I'd recommend one lump of the back button to sweeten things up.

Everything Changes

"Cheer up Shar. It's summer! We get to do whatever we want to! Everything changes."

Ryan Evans looked on, shocked and appalled at the sight before him. His sister, his closest companion since his arrival on the earth from their mother's birth canal, was offering an accessory pertaining to his prince costume to none other than Troy Bolton; the twins' exceptionally attractive schoolmate and employee.

If things ran differently at Lava Springs, the country club and resort owned by the opulent family, and there happened, perchance, to be a drastic shift of the hierarchy at the resort in Ryan's favor, he would have had the beautiful brunette, renowned for being their high school's basketball god, as well as "sex on legs", doing things that were much more fun than caddying and catering to the needs of the often snobbish, and sometimes lazy, resort members.

Fantasies of performing for Troy, or even with the athlete, and earning heaps of praise from him before they bonded over pink lemonade and back massages, or frolicked through the sprinkler system together, or Troy placed his arms around Ryan and helped him perfect his golf swing, dominated the blond male's mind. All of these activities ended with a hot passionate kiss, the vision of it so lucid, it nearly sent the younger Evans twin into hormonal overload, until his sister, Sharpay, forcibly extracted him from his mindscape in order to do her bidding.

Ryan admittedly was able to sympathize with Troy and the primo boy's fellow "Wildcats", as Troy's entourage was referred to. The performer recalled the previous summer with discomforting clarity. There had been a shortage of staff that year, preventing the employees from being able to tend to Sharpay's every whim. This, of course, did not sit well with the blonde girl, so she found an on-hand solution in her brother. Before Ryan could say, "jitterbug", she had him racing back and forth, fetching limonades, bonbons, and ice teas for her and her "Sharpettes", and adjusting chaise with the approximate angle of the sun every hour.

As a result, he had gotten dangerously close to collapsing, or suffering from heatstroke in the sweltering heat of the New Mexico summer sun.

After the "disaster"- Sharpay's phrasing, not his- that their junior year had been; losing out the main roles of Twinkle Towne, the winter musical, most unexpectedly to Troy Bolton and the new girl, Gabriella Montez, watching Gabriella's school-wide popularity skyrocket, and enduring the nauseating fact that the "Einsteinette", as Ryan had dubbed her, seemed to have Troy twined around her little finger, Ryan had eagerly awaited the final bell of the school year.

No more judgmental looks from the same people who readily kissed his sister's well-manicured fingers and sparkling shoes. No longer would he have to deal with menopausal teachers, or a backbreaking load of homework. He wouldn't have to hear hushed conversations carried on while his back was turned, where his peers referred to him as Sharpay's "poodle", among other things that he'd rather not dwell on, due to the possibility that such thoughts would cause him to lose his lunch.

He could simply be Ryan, and reflect on the wonderful conversations he had shared with Troy while the two of them stripped to down to their skivvies in his dressing room between scenes in last year's show. Hopefully, between preparations for the upcoming talent show, he would find time to laze about, reminiscing on the pleasant fluttering of his stomach that resulted from Troy telling him that he was, "really good", and the racing of his pulse and flush on his his fair cheeks beneath his stage makeup that persisted for a long while afterwards. He'd cling to the memory of the light flush that had dusted Troy's tanned face as the blond had returned the praise with a shy, "You're really good, too".

The yoga classes that he took with his mother, along with a select choice of reading material entitled How To Deal With A Difficult Sibling, would hopefully assist the petite boy in dealing with the emotional roller coaster ride that came with being the gay twin brother of East High's theater queen and the Evans princess.

Most importantly, however, he would, with great luck, in his indulgence of his fantasies and delusions, allow the knowledge of Gabriella Montez's existence to slip his mind.

Now, here Ryan was, receiving the shock of his life as his sister was placing his lei around beautiful Troy Bolton's beautiful neck.

This wasn't how things were supposed to go. Ryan and Sharpay were merely going to give the boy a private look at their number in the country club's Midsummer's Night Talent Show. A "sneak peek", of sorts. That was the plan.

Ryan wasn't necessarily blind to his sister's advances on the brunette boy. Sharpay was never exactly subtle with anything that she did. And, of course, it was apparent that Troy Bolton with his warm, captivating blue eyes framed by long, thick eyelashes, full pink lips, boyish smile, physique to rival the Greek Adonis, complete with toned golden skin that rippled with the muscle underneath, a taut rear, and a personality every bit as appealing as his exterior, was far more befitting of such a title as "prince". Even though "deity", seems to be more his tier, the theater king attributed mentally.

Despite all of this, the thought never once occurred to him, even when Sharpay had sweet-talked their parents into practically black mailing Troy into promising to sing with her, that the girl was devious enough to neglect her brother's role in a show that was supposed to be theirs.

Seriously, what the ever-loving hell was going on‽

Troy's visage was the picture of terror, his blue eyes stretched wide and his mouth tight, barely concealing a grimace as he clutched at the arm rests of his makeshift seat as if it was a life raft keeping him afloat in a turbulent ocean.

Neither twin took notice.

Sharpay was caught up in her delusion that Troy was the prince to her pineapple princess.

As for Ryan, well, Sharpay was not the only member of the Evans family capable of melodramatics. The fabric of his bright orange flowery skirt brushed against his pale legs as the male twin fell into step behind Sharpay and her Sharpettes, as her three female friends and background singers and dancers at the resort were collectively known. The four girls pranced around Troy's "throne". Ryan dragged his feet after them. His enthusiasm for the piece had shriveled up, his bright smile at seeing Troy in attendance displaced as a hard-edged look of bitterness took over his soft features.

Completing the circa, he stalked off to the opposite side of Troy's seat, wanting to be away from his sister.

It seemed that Sharpay was not quite through yet, however. When Ryan turned back around, she was crowning East High's golden boy with none other than the ring of orange and gold flowers that should have been sitting atop her brother's head of golden blond.

His own blue eyes blown nearly as wide as Troy's, Ryan pointed accusatorially at the perpetrator, the anger and upset churning within him creeping into the inflection of his singing voice.

If Sharpay detected the distress and outrage in her brother's pitch, she gave no outward indication. She ended on a pose and a satisfied smile, then gathered her Sharpettes together for a discussion.

Ryan inhaled through his nose, trying to contain the hurt eating at his heart, and the tears that stung his eyes.

Troy's face was blanched. He was unable to recall a time such intense fear and bewilderment had seized him. It was almost like paralysis had stolen over him, rendering his arms and legs momentarily useless. He would have preferred to believe that clasps had risen out of his chair, imprisoning him.

A part of him was actually sort of shocked that that hadn't happened.

Despite constantly hearing from the other athletes at the school of Sharpay Evans's sex appeal, the blonde girl did not interest Troy in the slightest. In fact, although he'd never admit it to any of his friends, not even Chad Danforth, his bushy-haired co-captain whom he viewed as a brother, out of fear of being mocked relentlessly, Sharpay intimidated him.

Being forced to promise to sing with the drama queen after enduring her highly unnecessary and totally inappropriate touching of him throughout dinner, had actually driven him to near madness, ripping an outcry of horror and frustration from his throat.

Now, he was left internally quaking and wondering if his exterior was as disheveled as his interior by the… "experience" he'd just had.

What the hell was that? Sure, being taken out back and guided to this location by the ever flustered manager, Mr. Fulton, was… off-putting. Seeing Ryan Evans emerge from the darkness, smiling his radiant Ryan smile, waving a lit torch around, and wearing some kind of red and blue twinkling dress-thing as he pranced about was… weird.

But, then, Sharpay entered, calling herself a "pineapple princess" named "Tiki", and she started shouting orders at Ryan, who ran all over the stage like a mad man, trying to fulfill them. Sharpay spoke like a fish, and then those three girls made horrifying faces, and lights flashed. The next thing Troy knew, the blonde girl was trying to pull him up to join her.

It was all that he could do to not start frantically screaming, "Hell NO!"

Troy wondered if reality had been breached, somehow, permitting the entrance of something from one of his nightmares. As he caught his breath, the realization that the "show", if he could call it that, was over, dawned on the brunette. He was about to thank some higher justice for his foray into hell being brief, when he felt the gentlest touch on his head, and then, that crown that Sharpay had put there was gone. He turned to his right, and found the crown sitting, in what he supposed was its rightful place, on a sulking Ryan Evans's head as the boy's backside faced the athlete.

Troy had never seen Ryan sulk before. He was positive that Ryan got upset. The fact that he was East High's theater king, and probably had a separate closet devoted to storing his hats, did not change the fact that the smaller boy was human. And, on top of that, Ryan was Sharpay's twin brother. Troy only had to deal with the diva's insanity for eight hours, and then he was free to go home. Ryan had to deal with it twenty-four hours a day, and three hundred sixty-five days a year. There was no escape for him.

The golden boy was no more deaf to his peers' conversations than Ryan himself was. He'd heard the gossip, and the rumors regarding the siblings playing romantic roles opposite each other, and never paid them any mind.

Kids were cruel. He didn't need to be.

A part of Troy was impressed at Ryan's internal patience with his sibling. Well, seemingly eternal seemed to be more fitting, given the circumstances. Sharpay must have finally crossed the line. The blond boy's rigid posture gave away his distress. It took quite a bit of restraint for the athlete to keep his eyes from wandering downward to get an eyeful of his flamboyant classmate's wondrously pert rear. Seriously, how had the roundness of Ryan's butt evaded Troy's notice for so long, because- Damn!

Matters were not helped by the fact that said distracting ass was clad in a floral printed skirt that was an almost blinding combination of orange and golden-yellow.

Troy forced his brain back to the obvious. Ryan Evans was upset. And he couldn't help but feel partially responsible.

Ryan let fresh air fill his lungs, hoping that the action would allow him to compose himself. He couldn't permit his emotions to get the better of him. Not in front of Sharpay and her friends, and absolutely not in front of Troy. No, Troy especially was not deserving of an emotional outburst.

He knew full well whom the real cause of his current emotional state was, whether she was aware, herself, or not.

It all made sense. He should have realized when she dreamily repeated her name with Troy's at the very start of the summer, just what his sister was planning. The only thing that concerned Sharpay was attaining Troy. No one else's feelings were taken into account. Even Troy's feelings didn't matter.

As for me? I was a tool in her scheme, but now, I guess I'm simply an obstacle that she has to push aside.

After a moment to become as emotionally composed as he could will himself to be, Ryan turned back to Troy. He didn't trust himself to speak, he simply stuck out his hand. He couldn't help but to search the boy's face. Ryan told himself that he was merely checking to ensure that his schoolmate got the message. He also knew, however, that he was staring because he couldn't help himself.

It took the snazzily dressed brunette a second, then recognition lit his features, restoring a touch of life to his previously haunted gaze. He removed the multicolored lei from around his neck, and held it out toward the blond's waiting hand.

Ryan snatched the floral accessory away a bit more roughly than he meant to. He silently chastised himself while at the same time attributing, Smart boy, to Troy Bolton. Then, he promptly exited from the stage, hoping to leave this failure of a night long behind him.

Breathe, Troy… Breathe…! The brunette instructed himself. He had just narrowly escaped from Sharpay's clutches by tapping into his boyish charm and diverting the girl's attention with a comment on her shoes.

Chad might have laughed about how easy Sharpay was to fool. Troy's mind was elsewhere, however. Even though he had made plans with Gabriella, he felt that he had a new objective, and it had taken top priority. Gabriella's cool. I feel like an asshole for doing this to her, but she'll understand, he assured himself. I'll just tell her the truth; I got tied up, helping a friend.

Now, it was just a matter of finding that friend. And comforting him in any way possible.

Unleashing a heart-heavy sigh, Ryan removed both the crown and the first band of flowers from about his head. He took a seat on one of the benches that sat before the wall of mirrors in the resort's dance studio. It was in the place where he had devoted hours to the perfection of choreography for numerous routines, that he felt the most at peace in a place designed to help people relax.

The irony was not lost on him.

He refused to look at his reflection out of shame at how ridiculous he was sure he looked. He'd donned all of those costumes that were outlandish, even by his standards, for what? "Our show"?" he asked himself. He directed a half-hearted glare at the flowery crown before setting it down and crinkling his nose in displeasure. "What utter tripe!"

"I agree."

Ryan gave a start. He peered into the full-body mirrors, past his wide-eyed reflection, and felt his heart miss a beat.

Behind him, stood Troy Bolton, still dressed in his formal attire from the dinner he'd sat down to with the Evans family.

Ryan blinked once, just to affirm that Troy's presence was not the result of a hallucination. Then, he turned to face the other boy, his brows knitting together. Countless words, thoughts, questions, raced through his mind. Why did you come after me? I'm sure you have something else you'd much rather be doing. You look fantastic. Really. He finally decided on an appropriate conversation starter. "I," he started, getting to his feet. "I'm really sorry about my sister."

"It's cool," Troy nodded, giving Ryan a smile that sent a delighted rush through the blond boy's body. "It's not your fault, anyway."

Ryan ducked his head in an attempt to moderate the grin that sought to dominate his face. Keep calm. Don't scare him off. Before silence could stretch on between them, he offered, "So, uh, that was pretty crazy, huh?"

"Uh, yeah." Troy gave a slight laugh. His face blanched a bit, as if in recollection. "Really crazy." He cleared his throat.

Suddenly, the atmosphere around them shifted.

As Troy stood before him, the two of them worlds away from Gabriella and her sickeningly sweet childish voice, and Sharpay and her disregard for the feelings of others, Ryan grew painstakingly aware of the way his heart ached for the brunette boy. Did Shar even notice? he wondered. A fresh wave of hurt rose up, tightening his throat.

"Ryan?" Troy ventured. His tone of voice was so sweet, warm, inviting, as if it was just encouraging Ryan to lower his wall, and…

Shit…! Tears were misting in front of Ryan's eyes, blurring his vision, and reducing his view of Troy to watery blobs of brown, black, and sun-kissed gold. Shit, not here! Not now!

"Ry?" Troy called softly.

Against his will, tears began streaming down the blond's porcelain face. The instant he raised his hand to furiously wipe them away, he felt the warm, comforting presence of Troy Bolton beside him.

"Hey, Ryan. It's okay." Troy adopted a soothing timbre that struck a chord in Ryan's heart, making the smaller boy long to melt in the arms of the virile boy. That option was granted to him, as, in what could have been viewed as either a moment of thoughtlessness, or a gesture seeking intimacy, Troy wrapped an arm around Ryan. His bodily heat emanated from the limb and pooled into the theater king through the layers of fabric that concealed their skin. He drew the performer into his firm, sculpted chest.

Somehow, this soothing action did little to prevent the flow of the younger Evans twin's tears. Ryan was so ashamed; of his sister, for putting sweet, perfect Troy Bolton through such a hellish ordeal, and of himself. Mostly, of himself. Especially if his tears were leaving wet stains on Troy's blazer.

But.

Troy's natural warmth was so inviting, so intoxicating…

"Sharpay's kind of a bitch, huh?" Troy murmured.

Ryan let out a pathetically choked sound that was meant to be a laugh, and nodded fiercely. So, it took all of this, huh?

Fuck.

Troy was everything Ryan ever could have hoped for. He lingered long after the end of his shift to escort his blond companion to the boy's room at the resort. Every so often, he inquired, en route, about the performer's emotional state.

Ryan assured him every time that he was just fine. That he wasn't sure what had come over him. Guilt wracked him. He made a mental note to have Mr. Fulton contact the Boltons to inform them that their son was safe. Ryan also noticed, with a pang in his chest, that his brunette employee was exhausted. Troy's usually radiant ocean blue eyes were dimmed, his silky, side-swept tresses, cut short for the hotter temperatures, were mussed, and he had the slightest stumble to his naturally confident and agile stride. Poor thing, the blond lamented, chewing the inside of his lip.

When they arrived at their destination, Ryan thanked Troy for the trouble he had gone to, hardly able to make out his own words over the sound of his heart hammering in his chest cavity and his blood pounding in his temples.

"It was no trouble at all. Really." Troy flashed him a reassuring boyish grin.

"I'm going to change. This outfit doesn't really make for sleepwear."

Troy let out a slight laugh. "Yeah. No kidding."

"I'll also have Fulton call your parents. Let them know where you are." Ryan swallowed what felt like it could have been his tongue.

"Thanks."

"Don't mention it." Before backing into his personal restroom, Ryan added, "Please, feel free to take a seat."

"Thanks," Troy called back. He already looked half out of it.

Several moments later, Ryan emerged, clad in a cotton t-shirt and sweatpants, to find Troy dozing on his bed.

He knew that he should rouse the brunette. And, yet, seeing the beautiful boy so at peace prevented him from acting. A voice inside told him, Troy needs this. He could find no reason to argue, especially when he held himself partially accountable for the basketball player's fatigue. As Ryan prepared to find or make another bed for himself, he heard Troy stirring. "Ryan?" The boy's eyelids and long eyelashes lifted, half-revealing his eyes.

"Yeah?" Ryan implored softly.

"Man… I-I'm sorry." Troy moved, ready to hoist himself up off of the bed.

"No, it's all right." Ryan hoped that his voice did not give away his desperation. "You need this." He added quietly.

Perhaps too tired to argue, or too trusting for his own good, the athlete gave a faint nod. "Yeah. Guess so."

For the second time, it registered in Ryan's mind that Troy was still wearing a suit and tie, an outfit every bit as inappropriate for slumber as Ryan's own outlandish ensemble had been. He maneuvered onto the bed toward Troy, and silently un-looped the tie around the boy's tanned neck. As he neatly folded the tie and set it gently on the floor, he vaguely wondered if the need for sweet, rejuvenating sleep served as a detriment to the functions of his own brain.

The muffled sound of Troy's shoes clattering against the mat on the floor met his ears, and he turned to find the brunette shrugging out of his blazer. When his arms came free, Troy tossed the garment aside, and got to work on his pants and shirt.

Ryan was too brain dead to do anything but stare, mesmerized, despite his best efforts to avert his gaze. How disgustingly indecent! He scolded himself.

After discarding his slacks, throwing them to the floor without a thought, a heavy sigh that could have been a groan passed from Troy's lips. "Fuck." He ran his hands through his hair, further mussing it in a way that his bedmate considered heart-wrenchingly adorable.

"You can say that again."

Troy paused, side-eyeing Ryan. A tiny smile tugged at the corners of his mouth. "Fuck." As if to punctuate the word, he flopped onto the bed, sinking into it with a slight laugh.

A smile quirking up his own lips, Ryan joined the athlete, despite his own better judgement advising him otherwise.

"Mm… Your bed is soft," Troy murmured, his eyes closing once again.

"It's a Tempur-pedic mattress." The blond could suddenly hardly keep his own eyes open. "Like in the commercials."

"Oh yeah? That's awesome."

"Thank you. And, you're awesome. And-And sweet, and wonderful, and.." Ramblings of a mad man, that's what they were. Ryan could have smacked himself.

Troy smiled, as if genuinely touched by the stream of compliments. His eyes reopened long enough to locate his bedmate's face. "Thanks."

"Anytime." They stared into each other's eyes until Ryan felt like he was drowning in the pools of blue in front of him. And, he loved every second of his watery demise.

Troy scooted in closer. "You smell good."

Ryan's heart faltered. "Th-Thank you."

Troy's arm wrapped around Ryan's shoulder, meeting no resistance.

So, Troy has sleep-cuddling tendencies, too? Ryan marveled. His heart very nearly exploded as he suddenly felt the beautiful boy's face against his neck; Troy Bolton's lips and nose, nuzzling into the pale, creamy throat of Ryan Evans.

Sharpay would spontaneously combust.

"Thank you so much for letting me crash here, Ry," Troy murmured sweetly, his voice thick with sleep.

"It's no problem at all." I'd do anything for you. Anything. Ryan's eyelids at last fell over his eyes. The last vaguely conscious thought to pass through his mind was; Troy smells fantastic…! … I wonder if he likes blueberry pancakes…

Troy's eyes opened to an unfamiliar ceiling. He rolled onto his back, stretching luxuriously, and marveling at the softness and the level of comfort provided by the mattress beneath him. His brain regained cognitive ability, and he recalled some freaky Hawaiian show that devolved into a bad acid trip, Ryan Evans's shapely ass in a flowery skirt, comforting a crying Ryan- whose hair had smelled like strawberries- after Sharpay had thoughtlessly hurt her brother, and then crashing on the petite blond boy's bed at the resort. He faintly remembered Ryan contacting Mr. Fulton to explain the situation and notify Troy's parents. It was so nice of Ryan to do that for me. Troy's heart missed a beat as he heard the sound of the door knob being twisted. He readied himself to leap to his feet, certain that he was about to receive a reprimand, or be subjected to mockery for having slept in the bed of the flamboyant theater king.

His heart rate returned to normal as the door opened and it turned out that the intruder was only Ryan himself, returning to his blond boy's appearance was immaculate, as always; a striped pageboy cap on his head, the brim turned slightly to the side, a flawless white polo that clung to his torso in all the right places clothing his upper half, and a pair of white pants that fit him just as nicely, covering his lower body.

Troy ran a hand through his hair, suddenly conscious of his sleep-disheveled looks.

"Hey!" Ryan greeted him, a bright smile on his face.

"Hey," Troy returned the smile, warmth rushing into him. "Uh, thanks a lot for letting me sleep in your bed."

Ryan's cheeks flushed. "No problem. You looked like you needed a good rest."

Troy felt his own cheeks heat up. He had been pretty worn out after the events of the preceding day. "I guess I did." He smiled. "Thanks, Ry."

The blond bashfully ducked his head, biting down on his lower lip in a way that Troy found unabashedly, and almost illegally, adorable as he beamed. "Don't mention it."

"Well," the brunette moved to the edge of the bed. "I guess I've gotta get going."

Ryan stared at him, his eyes wide and his brows quirked.

"Mr. Fulton is probably on his way over here to get me," Troy clarified. Unpleasant goosebumps prickled his skin at the thought of facing the perpetually irritated manager's wrath. He stumbled to his feet, hunting about for his clothes, only to find the suit that he had worn the previous night neatly folded on the floor. A half-smile quirked his lips for a moment as he realized who was responsible for demonstrating such care. Then, the thought that these were his only clothes, aside from the ones stashed in his locker at the country club, kicked in. That's just great! His inner voice exasperated.

As he gathered the dress pants and prepared to slip them back on, Ryan spoke up. "Troy, it's six in the morning. I'm not even sure that Fulton is awake and dressed, himself."

"Really?" Troy turned to the window and found a still dark sky visible behind the closed curtains. Well, shit.

"I'm sorry if I woke you," Ryan murmured, his expression and inflection genuine.

"Oh, you didn't wake me up. My internal clock did." Troy tossed a reassuring smile the blond's way. After all that Ryan had done for him, the last thing the athlete wanted was for his friend, because they were friends, right?, to be upset. He decided to keep the conversation going. Ryan's light voice was incredibly pleasant on the ears, and his smile created a sort of fizzy, tingling feeling in Troy's stomach, similar to the feeling that someone else created, only without the slight apprehension that accompanied that tingling feeling, of late. "What are you doing up so early, Ry?"

He noticed color filling the smaller boy's fair face with the usage of the nickname. "I like to be awake early in the morning. It's before the heat of the day, and there's a certain calm over most of the world before everyone else gets out of bed."

Troy gave a nod of understanding. Everyone needed to "get away from it all", every now and then. That was why he arranged his own "secret place" through some friends in their high school's gardening club. When the pressure of being the "primo boy" of East High, the perfect son, the best basketball team captain he was capable of being, an amazing friend to everyone, and the perfect boyfriend, got to be too much for him to handle, he tended to duck out and take refuge in the school's rooftop garden.

Ryan shuffled his feet, as if embarrassed by what he had just said.

As the theater king chewed at his lower lip, Troy spoke up, hoping to ease the boy's anxieties, "You know, I like to watch the sunrise."

"M-Me too." Ryan ceased the probably painful action, and swung his arms, his eyes lighting delightedly. He stopped the motion of his limbs abruptly.

The brunette found the awkwardness intensely endearing. "So", he prompted, "since we're up, do you want to watch it with me?"

"I'd like that. A lot." Ryan smiled softly, his eyes glowing with such happiness that Troy felt like his heart would burst out of his throat, in the manner of a Loony Tunes cartoon.

"O-Okay, then." Troy returned the smile, that fizzy, fluttery feeling that most referred to as "butterflies" affecting his stomach with greater power than before.

"Before we do," Ryan said, his inflection just a bit unsure, "I have to ask; are you hungry?"

With those words, it hit the brunette that he had not put a scrap of food into his body since his dinner with the Evans family the previous night. His stomach responded for him, letting loose a gurgling sound that he was sure the other occupant of the room could hear. His face flushed almost immediately.

"Alrighty, then." The gentle humor about the performer's expression helped to minimize the discomfort that might have descended on the athlete after such an unexpected "reaction".

Troy was mildly surprised at the thought that crossed his mind. He didn't laugh at me, like Gabriella would have. The fact that he was strangely unbothered by this thought was somehow less of a surprise.

Ryan waited patiently while Troy changed.

Seeing the golden boy in his boxers and a tank top was more than he ever would have anticipated, but Ryan certainly wasn't complaining.

He did wonder how Troy was unperturbed at the thought of a fag like Ryan Evans seeing him in such a state, but then supposed, Troy has been nude in the company of other guys many times. I'm sure that being semi-decent in the presence of a fully dressed boy is nothing for him to bat an eye at.

By this point, Troy had returned. "Hey," he greeted, walking up to join the blond.

"Hey." Ryan took in the mien of the taller boy, feeling as though his heart was somehow constricting his airway.

Troy's choices of apparel were never overly decadent, or intentionally attention-grabbing. They were simple, composed of t-shirts, polos, jeans, long sleeve shirts, sweaters, and button down over-shirts, with the occasional garment that showed off his school spirit and position as captain of the basketball team, thrown into the mix. It seemed that the arrival of the summer had ushered in a new addition to Troy Bolton's wardrobe. Capris. Capris that fit his sculpted legs just perfectly.

"It's really quiet around here," Troy murmured, his blue eyes lit up with a sort of wonder.

"Yeah."

"I like it." He nudged the blond lightly with his shoulder. Sparks seemed to fly out from under his touch and sizzle on Ryan's epidermis. It was all that the blond could do to slap a- hopefully not visibly punch drunk- smile on his face.

They walked to the kitchen together. Along the way, Troy affirmed that he did like blueberry pancakes, and that having some for breakfast would be, "awesome!" His look of astonishment when Ryan retrieved the necessary items to make the pancakes didn't escape the blond's notice. The astonishment was soon replaced by an expression akin to pride. "You're a man of many talents, huh, Ry?"

"I suppose you could say that." Ryan's lips quirked up reflexively. Behind his delighted expression, he contemplated the behavior of his companion. Is Troy just naturally friendly… or? He slammed down on the brakes, refusing to allow his train of thought to travel any further down that track.

He couldn't allow himself to think of that.

The kick in the gut of reality would sting all the more.

After breakfast, and Troy informing Ryan that he was an "amazing cook", they headed outside to find the first blindingly orange rays of sunlight beginning to peek out and engulf the horizon.

The two of them stood together in silence. Troy stared in fascination at the gradually changing colors of the skyline.

Ryan's gaze, however, was fixated at the shades these gradually changing colors cast on the brunette's sun kissed golden skin. He didn't trust himself with speech. He wouldn't dare talk out of the icy terror that clutched at his chest at the thought of such a simple action ruining the moment.

A while passed where the only audible sounds those of birds and crickets chirping away.

Then.

"Ryan?"

"Mm?"

"I want to- I-" Troy leaned in closer. He paused, his tongue flicking out to lick at his upper lip.

"Mm." Was it a sigh? A near groan? A noncommittal grunt? Ryan had no time to consider words or responses, unless they were coming from the beautiful boy in front of him. He was aware of heat shooting along his bodily circuitry.

Troy moved in again. "…Ryan…" He raised his hand, bringing it toward Ryan's face.

Ryan himself wasn't sure when the distance between them had lessened until he could nearly feel Troy's breath on his face. But, he couldn't bother himself to care, either. That was an insignificant detail, all things considered. In that moment, all that seemed to exist was the nearly deafening clamor of his pulse, the flip-flopping of his stomach, the goosebumps that prickled his flesh, and Troy. Troy's warmth, his musky scent, his face, his lips drawing in, the imminent contact that the performer wouldn't refuse if someone threatened to set fire to his hat collection… "Troy…" The sound of the brunette boy's name, scarcely audible, escaped his throat. He bit down on his lower lip to contain his gasp as Troy's pink lips just about hovered over his.

His heartbeat was so loud, so rapid, it was practically nauseating. Ryan's hand twitched. He wanted to place it on Troy's shoulder, to feel that firm muscle beneath his fingertips, but there was…

From nowhere, the sound of a techno pop-esque tune filled the air. The two boys jumped apart simultaneously.

Ryan felt his breath hitch as Troy gasped breathlessly; "Shit!" The flushed athlete delved into his pocket and extracted the cause of the interference. His cellphone. "It's Gabriella," he announced. "Her early morning wake-up call."

Of course. Ryan swallowed his initial bitterness when he saw the lost and bewildered expression on the face of the other boy. He drew in a breath to reclaim some control over his hormones, well aware of the heat coming off of his own face, and managed, "You should probably answer that."

Troy nodded, the confusion fading from his visage. A faint smile tugged up the ends of his mouth.

Ryan chewed at the inside of his own mouth. every nerve on edge. He watched his companion gulp, blanching slightly as the boy answered the phone.

"Hello? Hi, Gabriella." Troy shifted his weight. After a moment, he rubbed at the back of his neck, clearly uncomfortable. "I'm really sorry about that. I-" He stiffened.

The blond could just make out Gabriella's childish voice on the other end. Her dynamic steadily increased, until he could almost discern from the girl's intonation that she was… berating her boyfriend?

"Sharpay?" Troy's eyes widened in stunned disbelief. "No! Gabriella, why would you even think that I-!"

A good part of the younger Evans twin was appalled at Gabriella's inability to trust her boyfriend. It was pretty clear to anyone who paid attention that Troy was terrified of the blonde queen of Lava Springs. All the same, Ryan's blood ran cold. He knew that the blame for Troy being on the receiving end of such chastising lay in his hands.

"Gabriella, Ryan was upset, last night, so I comforted him. I ended up falling asleep. I didn't mean to miss our date, and I promise that I didn't go anywhere near Sharpay." Everything about Troy, his posture, his inflection, his expression, gave away desperation.

There was a moment of stomach churning silence. All of the color seemed to have drained from Troy's face.

Ryan was fairly sure his own fair complexion had taken on a nearly lifeless shade, as well.

Finally, there was a sigh on Gabriella's end, and a barely discernible murmur.

"Alright." Troy nodded, his stricken expression replaced by one of relief. His shoulders sagged as the tension began to leave him. "I'll be there."

No parting messages were traded. Troy remained on the line for a second after Gabriella had appeared to have hung up. He exhaled heavily.

"Troy, I-I'm really sorry," Ryan began, ready to kick himself if he was responsible for the termination of the golden boy's relationship.

"It's fine, Ryan," Troy assured him, closing his phone. "I think she believes me."

"Think"? "I-I could talk to her," Ryan offered. He'd do anything, everything in his power if he could prevent Troy getting hurt.

"Thanks." Troy smiled wearily, the bright glimmer of life returning to his eyes along with something similar to sadness. "But, I'll work this out."

Is he assuring me, or himself?

"Hey."

Ryan looked up to find Troy at his side.

"This isn't your fault. Okay? … Don't worry about it."

The blond had to nod in reply, even though he would be worrying all day.

Before Troy set off to find Gabriella, he expressed, "This was…nice."

"Yeah."

"Thank you, Ryan. For everything."

Ryan's smile remained on his face until Troy's retreating form was no longer visible. He knew that he would have to commit the sensation of Troy's bare arm brushing against his to his store of memories that he'd recall at his lowest points.

Troy felt as though he had dodged a bullet. He'd managed to successfully reschedule his date with Gabriella, feeling like a complete asshat the entire time for blowing her off in the first place.

He did not regret his time with Ryan, however. He felt many emotions while hanging out with the theater king, but "regret" was never present.

He was conscious of regretting one thing; that their near-kiss, if that's what had almost occurred back there, had not come to fruition.

But…

He had a girlfriend to right things with. A girlfriend that he had yet to kiss in the six months they'd been together. But, there was more to their relationship than the physical stuff, right? Gabriella was special. He could have any girl if he wanted her, yet it was only Gabriella that he saw and wanted to be with. As her boyfriend, he had to give her the best summer that he could, since she'd never spent an entire summer in one place her whole life. Her mom was always getting transferred from place to place across the country with Gabriella in tow, costing her daughter just who knew how many friends and life experiences, along the way. It was Troy's responsibility to make this summer the best summer that she'd ever had, to make up for all of the bad memories Gabriella had to have, getting moved about all the time.

He couldn't be fantasizing about the taste of the candied lips of a beautiful blond boy with eyes as blue as the summer sky, a radiant smile that illuminated the room, those adorable quirks, and that ass…

Then, Sharpay appeared, squealing Troy's name while pointing at a decorated and glittery sign that commanded, "SEE FULTON NOW". As if the blonde girl was some sort of an omen, the rest of Troy's day was all downhill from there.

Mr. Fulton delivered the message that Troy had been promoted to golf instructor. The salary was $500.00. A week.

Yes, it meant ditching his friends who were all kitchen staff, but they'd understand that Troy would have to be a complete moron to decline such a promotion. He even got a pair of fancy Italian shoes out of the deal.

Things started out easily enough; simply correct kids on how to hold the golf clubs, and avoid getting clobbered in the process. Done.

But, of course, Sharpay came along, needing help with perfecting her golf swing.

Troy really did not want to deal with the queen of Lava Springs, yet, somehow, he found himself asking her for her opinion on his shoes. What the hell am I doing? He gave himself a mental slap, and resigned himself to his task, wrapping his arms about the girl, and guiding her through a proper swing.

Before he had time to catch his breath, he was being ushered to the interior of the country club, where Mr. Evans proudly showed him off to members of the University of Albuquerque's basketball team, the Red Hawks. It was a long-standing dream of Troy's dad, Troy, himself, and Chad, for Troy and Chad to attend U of A, and become Red Hawks. Naturally, when the members of the team extended Troy the invitation to join them in a scrimmage at their gym, he had to accept.

Sure, Sharpay appeared once more to gush about how she and Troy were "totally skin-tone compatible", words which were combined in such a way as to sound like a sentencing, rather than an observation. Yet, Troy pushed his skin-prickling uneasiness aside, telling himself that the scholarship he'd receive would be worth enduring Sharpay.

In spite of that attempt to reassure himself, Troy went on to be a dick to Chad, who served him while he chatted about golf with one of the Red Hawks. While Chad had looked on expectantly, Troy patronizingly told his friend that he "wanted Swiss on this burger".

After that, he wound up missing his rescheduled date with Gabriella, because he was chatting with the Red Hawk, whom had invited him to join them for a scrimmage at their gym. When Gabriella later lectured him on promise being a "really big word", Troy kind of wanted to deliver a really hard punch to his own cranium.

Especially since he'd managed to forget that the staff softball game, the game that he had promised to participate in, was today.

Chad, Zeke Baylor, and Jason Cross emerged, Chad furious at him for not asking the Red Hawks to include his teammates.

Troy hated making his friend upset. He hated disappointing anyone, in general. Yet, he was breaking another promise, this one being his planned participation in a two-on-two game before the softball game.

Zeke, ever the calm mediator, proposed that Troy invite the Red Hawks over to join them. The whole time, one of the Red Hawk guys was insistently pressing down on the horn of their van, calling out, "Bolton!".

Troy felt like he was being backed into a corner. He was hurting his friends like a total asshole. But, the scholarship opportunity was too great. He needed that scholarship. He couldn't see any other way for him to get into that school, and he wanted to make his dad proud. He apologized, wishing that he could vanish off of the face of the earth, as he made his way toward the Red Hawks and their van.

They had asked for Troy. They were looking at his game, not the game of his friends and teammates.

That fact did not lessen the sharp ache in his chest when Chad had snapped, "Hey, Bolton. That's my ball," in reference to the ball that Troy had been using to shoot hoops as practice before being pitted against the skills of college basketball players. Bolton.

Even throwing himself into the game, and seeing the look of pride on his father, Jack Bolton's, face, hadn't been enough to take Troy's mind off of the harshness of the words of his best friend and girlfriend. He checked the clock, and realized that he was missing the softball game. Damn it! He put in a call to Gabriella, meaning to apologize, again, for being such a screw-up. His heart leapt for a moment when it seemed that she had answered, only to sink in dismay when he heard the message of her voicemail.

Fuck.

After rushing to the softball field as soon as he could to find it vacant, Troy, sweaty, panting, and beginning to hate himself, felt as though his heart had fallen into the pit of his stomach. He wondered if a scholarship to U of A was really worth losing everyone that mattered to him. I didn't dodge a bullet. It nailed me. I just didn't realize I'd been shot, yet.

Troy's "friendliness", that was the phrasing Ryan chose to utilize, as any other word would suggest that there was something more to his newly-formed relationship with the brunette boy, still fresh on his mind, Ryan lingered in that spot for a moment after the boy's departure.

He allowed himself that moment to indulge, to pretend that he had a future with the golden boy that extended beyond them being classmates until they graduated and would likely never see each other again.

Once the moment had passed, he collected himself and moved on. The blond walked aimlessly about the premises. His thoughts about Troy, about his own plans for the summer, swirled about his mind, slowly taking the form of lyrics.

Once in a lifetime,

Means there's no second chance

So, I believe that you and me

Should grab it while we can

He stopped, fully prepared to rush off to his room and jot these lyrics down while they were still at the front of his brain, only to be distracted by a vaguely familiar melody being turned out on a piano. Recollection struck him.

You're a harmony

To the melody,

That's echoin' inside my head

The melody was that of "Troy and Gabriella's" song. The pianist could only be Kelsi.

Ryan casually strolled in to watch the petite, curly-haired brunette girl at work. It was nice to share an environment with someone who loved music, but wasn't overbearing, or demanding, or high-maintenance, manipulative, and spotlight-hogging, like a certain someone.

The song in question, "You Are The Music In Me", really was a good song. He would never deny that Kelsi was very talented. Even Sharpay had to admit to that much, despite the fact that she frequently bullied and intimidated the composer.

When Kelsi paused for a moment, Ryan tried, "That's a really good song."

Kelsi blushed. At first, her eyes narrowed suspiciously, but, as Ryan went on, informing her that the arrangement suited Troy's and Gabriella's voices in an expert fashion, especially Troy's, he added silently, his heart leaping at the memory of overhearing the boy's brassy tenor-bartione, Kelsi must have realized that he was being wholly sincere. She warmed up to him, revealing that she could actually be really talkative.

She went on, explaining some ideas she had regarding the talent show, and the upcoming school musical. Ryan wanted to kick himself for never stopping to listen to Kelsi before. She was creative, and inventive, and could supply both him and Sharpay with great material if they only asked for her input. A smile spread across his face.

As if his thoughts summoned his sister, Sharpay entered the music room with her natural diva flair, and made a beeline for the piano.

She hadn't apologized for her behavior the previous night, but Ryan was in an amicable mood, and somewhat used to this sort of thing. While Sharpay searched through the petite girl's stack of sheet music, Ryan began, "Hey. Kelsi's got some great new ideas to spice up the talent show."

He'd meant to go on, but Sharpay cut him off with a dismissive, "I'm thrilled." She then turned to Kelsi and demanded that the composer relinquish the duet.

Kelsi bravely defended the piece on the grounds that she wrote it for "Troy and Gabriella" expressly.

Sharpay retorted, "You're an employee, not a fairy godmother! Let's have it!" She snatched the music away.

Ryan let out a hefty sigh of irritation and disbelief.

Unfortunately, his sister was not quite finished. Her next "reasonable request" cleaved right through her brother's heart. "Transpose the lyrics into my key. Troy and I will be performing it in the talent show."

Troy and I. No room for Ryan. If that wasn't what crossed the line, her feeble assurance that she would find a spot for him in the show, or next year's show, finally pushed him over the edge.

He left the room, fury boiling in his veins, and multiple layers of hurt weighing down his chest. He walked briskly, no set destination in mind, just knowing that he needed to put as much distance between himself and Sharpay as possible. Aloud, he vowed that he'd take his sister up on her "advice", and sell that ridiculous blue and red blinking monstrosity known as his "tiki warrior" outfit to the highest bidder online. That will show her!

… Who was he kidding?

Another "surprise" was in store for him. Gabriella and her friend, Taylor McKessie, pulled up in a golf cart, and as if Ryan Evans's life suddenly morphed into an episode of the Twilight Zone, he was being whisked off to the softball field, propositioned by Gabriella to help the Wildcats with their act in the talent show, and then, he was challenging Chad Danforth, of all people, to a game of softball to prove that the sport was so easy, even a flamboyantly gay theater king could show an athlete how it was done… all while dancing about the diamond, because dancing "takes some game".

The last time Ryan had even looked at a softball mitt had been when he was ten years old, and a member of the Little League team in his family's former hometown of Newport, Rhode Island. He only took the sport up in the first place for his dad. His love of performing won over, anyway. So, it was no surprise that, even though the game was close, Ryan's team, or rather, the side that he was playing for, lost. And Ryan closed the game off by face-planting and staining his immaculate white outfit.

The Wildcats didn't care, however. Chad was impressed, which Ryan couldn't help but flush happily over. Chad wasn't Troy, but he was still an attractive member of the same sex who was touching Ryan without any qualms, was wearing Ryan's shirt and hat, as if those articles of clothing were "cool", as opposed to "strange", or "prissy". Chad also had a penis.

More importantly, however, Ryan had won the bushy-haired boy over, and since Chad was Troy's right-hand man, that meant cooperation from the rest of Wildcats. What better way to get back at Sharpay than to assist her nemeses at scoring a victory on her turf? It was brilliant.

Somehow, though, in addition to gaining a way to, for once, beat his sister at something, Ryan Evans had made friends, with the Wildcats, of all possible people. At least, they were treating him like one of the group rather than an outsider; patting his shoulders, and swatting playfully at his head, congratulating him on his surprising level of skill at sports. Ryan had "broken free" from his social constraints in the manner that a certain brunette basketball player had the previous school year when he dared to venture from the locker room on to the stage, inspiring a social revolution among the rest of the student body.

And, as Ryan's thoughts drifted to Troy, he recognized that these were the other boy's friends. No one seemed to be all that unsettled, or disheartened by Troy' notable absence, an observation that Ryan was suddenly determined to further explore.

The next time Ryan saw Troy, the virile boy's immaculately cleaned and pressed uniform communicated the perfection one would expect from Troy Bolton. Everything else about him; his slouching, defeated posture, the downturned angle of his mouth, bespoke layers of distress. Troy sat by the pool, staring out listless and misty-eyed into space.

Ryan crossed to the athlete, greeting him softly, "Hey."

Troy whipped around, the misty glaze over his eyes dissipating as his ocean blue eyes sparkled with recognition. The slightest smile tugged at the corners of his mouth. "Hey."

When Ryan hesitated, Troy gave an inviting nod for the blond boy to sit down beside him.

Ryan did so.

"I, uh, overheard Chad and the guys talking about you playing in the game last night." Troy's gaze flitted from their reflections on the surface of the pool, to the face of his companion. "I wish I could have been there to see it."

Ryan's eyes fell to his red and white shorts. East High colors. Colors that a certain someone was missing from their wardrobe. His heart gave a pang. He looked back to Troy, smiling and hoping that it would displace even some of the brunette boy's anxieties. "My dad says you've been doing great with those college guys."

Troy stared, confusion evident on his face before a hint of joy at the compliment replaced it.

The younger Evans twin had to wonder if he was the only person who had praised Troy on his ability to hold his own against college basketball players.

"Oh, yeah. They're awesome." Troy's eyes lit up briefly. "…Playing with them is like being in another world." The light faded. His voice fell.

Ryan's brows knitted together. There was no need for Troy to elaborate.

"Have I changed?" Troy pondered, his eyes dark and his voice tremulous. "I-I feel like someone else, some inconsiderate jerkass who blows off his friends and doesn't have the balls to apologize to them…! It's like I'm a different person. A new Troy Bolton who wears Italian shoes and breaks his promises, all because of a scholarship that I don't even think I deserve!" He glared down at his reflection, then quickly searched the surrounding area for, what Ryan guessed was, an object to shatter the image on the still surface of the clear blue water into dozens of ripples. When his search proved futile, Troy scooted away, leaning back on his well-muscled arms and throwing his head back, his eyes closing bitterly.

"Troy," Ryan ventured, his voice gentle, lilting, "there's nothing wrong with looking out for yourself. If you're good at something, really good at it, and you're passionate about it, your friends will understand how much it matters to you." His heart lurched as he noticed tears glinting on Troy's long, thick eyelashes. Clearly, Troy's friends weren't quite as accommodating as either of the boys wished the group was. Ryan's mind scrambled to summon any combination of words or phrases that would, could,offer a semblance of comfort to the beautiful athlete. Finally, he had something. "Troy."

Troy's eyes opened. He sniffled, moisture gathering at the corner of those entrancing ocean colored pools. "Yeah, Ry?"

Ry. Ryan moved in closer, intently meeting Troy's gaze, hoping that his own blue eyes would effectively communicate every ounce of sincerity behind his words. "You don't have to do anything that you don't want to do. Forget my sister." His fervor became quite obvious, more than he would have liked for it to be, but the performer would not back down now. "Troy, you're good enough. You can get a scholarship without Sharpay's help." His heart was racing, aching.

A smile made its way across Troy's sun-kissed visage, a sparkle to his eyes accompanying it. "Th… Thank you, Ryan. And you're right. Sharpay is kind of a bitch."

Ryan couldn't help but to smile, as well, the ache in his chest somewhat subsiding. "Yeah, kind of." Once again, he found himself getting lost in the deep oceanic pools before him.

"Ryan."

"Mm?"

"Thank you." Troy's tenor-baritone had dropped to just above a whisper.

Ryan's eyelashes veiled his eyes. "A-Anytime."

Troy's arms wrapped about Ryan, and the blond suddenly found the boy's neck against his cheek. Ryan felt as though the ground was no longer beneath them.

But, that was okay.

His red and white fedora that perfectly matched his shorts was knocked into, setting it askew. In that moment, the theater king wouldn't have cared if it had fallen into the swimming pool, leaving him unable to retrieve it.

Troy crushed their bodies together, their hips meeting, which caused slight gasps to escape both of them. Another shuddering gasp rose out of Ryan's throat when Troy's hands clenched him tightly, as though he was a life raft that the brunette was clinging to. The athlete's body shook, trembling against the performer's.

Ryan wanted desperately to offer some comfort to Troy. To help him in anyway that he could. So, he wrapped his arms about the taller boy, holding onto him until his trembling subsided.

Until Ryan could steel himself.

"Thank you," Troy whispered, again.

"No problem."

The brunette withdrew from the embrace, taking a deep breath. They stared into each other's eyes for a time period that felt like infinity, searching each other's souls.

Ryan wanted to ask Troy so many questions, to say so many things, but he was unable to get his mouth to function to start forming the words necessary to do so.

His consternation must have been visible, because Troy assured him, "You didn't do anything wrong." He then got to his feet, re-adjusted his shirt and pants, and offered his hand to the smaller boy.

Ryan accepted the hand, appreciating the warmth and strength of the appendage, and how right it felt enveloping his own proportionally smaller and slender hand. He was hoisted almost effortlessly to his feet.

"I've gotta go."

"Okay."

It was painfully obvious from his anguished expression that Troy truly did not want to go, but he had a job, and a prior engagement who was still upset with him. All of the eyelash batting, coy hair-twirling, smirks, and clinginess this "prior engagement" had thrown in Ryan's direction the previous night at the after game party at her house, made this all too clear to the theater king.

Quickly, Ryan locked the sensation of Troy's body against his, and every other sensation that had just about overloaded his senses, away.

As he awkwardly began his departure, heading toward the interior of the country club, the direction Ryan had come from, Troy called back, causing the blond to freeze in the middle of correcting the tilt of his hat, "I'll see you 'round?"

"Yeah!" The performer's heart reacted so violently, he was honestly scared that he'd wind up going into full cardiac arrest. Breathe, stupid! For the second time that summer, he watched Troy Bolton walk away. And, he wondered- he had lost track long ago of just how many times his thoughts had ventured here- when, if ever, Ryan Evans would follow.

It had been five days, just two days shy of a week, since Gabriella had left him. And Troy was outraged.

Gabriella breaking up with him was not the cause. That had engendered a flurry of other emotions: shock, despair, heartbreak, intense dislike of himself and the person he had become.

The fact that Troy had gotten into a verbal fight with Chad in front of the kitchen staff that very nearly escalated into a full on brawl, and might have, had it not been for Mr. Fulton's timely interference, did not play into Troy's blood-boiling rage, while it did lend to his feeling of growing self-loathing. His friends were still upholding their apparent "vow of silence", clamming up and ceasing all chatter the moment he entered the room, giving him stares that relayed without question that he was not welcome, if they acknowledged him at all. That didn't factor into his desire to punch the golf turf, either.

Singing with Sharpay had been an complete nightmare of explosions of pink fireworks, and more unwanted touching from the blonde girl. The incident, along with her delusional belief that they were "meant to sing together", left Troy reeling and feeling more than a little sympathy for Ryan, and any of the girl's future romantic pursuits, once again. The prospect of singing with her again certainly leant to his fury, but it wasn't the main contributor.

No, it was the fact that he saw the work that Ryan put into choreographing the Wildcats. Troy had watched the vitality that radiated from the blond as Ryan was right there in his element, doing what he loved. Troy had felt a burst of pride well up in his chest, witnessing an act featuring all of his happily smiling friends coming together before his eyes.

An act that he should have been a part of.

Yes, for the third or fourth time in his life, the golden boy of East High experienced the feeling of being left out. But, he supposed he was deserving of all of that, all things considered.

The touchy-feely interaction between Ryan and Gabriella didn't evade his notice. Troy knew that he had no reason to be upset at Ryan. But, Gabriella…? He didn't miss the wide smile on the girl's face when Ryan took her hand to guide her through a move, and the way that smile only broadened when the blond boy gave her a congratulatory hug. Troy also didn't miss the smirk on Gabriella's lips as she exited the rehearsal.

So, Troy had ruined Gabriella's summer, driving her first to cozy up to Ryan- could he blame her?- and then to quit her job before leaving Troy and returning the necklace Troy had bought her at the start of the summer as the final slap in the face. Troy Bolton's new status as a screw-up seemed to be firmly cemented.

Yet, the dissolving of his relationship, and the complete lack of contact since then, were only part of the big picture.

Through Kelsi, one of the only people who didn't seem to hate him, Troy found out that Sharpay had made a new rule for the talent show. There was to be absolutely no staff participation permitted. All employees were to be relegated to kitchen duty.

All of her brother's hard work spent directing a group of employees meant nothing to Sharpay.

Sure, she had been pushing Troy, himself, around since the start of his employment and pulling strings to get what she wanted without giving so much as a single regard to whose feelings got hurt in the process. But, she had, in one fell swoop, fucked over Troy's friends. And that was the final straw.

Troy wasn't going to stand for this, anymore. Hewas being an asshole to his friends. He'd go to all of them and apologize for everything.

Sharpay was mistreating his friends? He'd let her know that he wasn't going to sing with her. Scholarship, or no scholarship, his place was with his friends. And, if they were relegated to the kitchen and waiting on the audience, then so was he. Besides, he told himself as he clocked out, Ryan's right. If I deserve a scholarship, I'll get it without Sharpay's help.

Troy made his way over to his locker, his plan set. As he opened it up, he noticed a thin stack of notebook paper, the fringes cleanly torn off, sitting inside. His brows furrowing, he extracted the sheets and read aloud the title scrawled along the top in neat manuscript; "Everyday".

Ryan paced about his room at the resort, dismay and fury battling to see which one would overtake him first. Of course. Of course Sharpay would prohibit employees from performing. She couldn't risk an act choreographed by a "traitor" winning her precious trophy.

He let out a growl, seizing his pillow and hefting it across the room. As if the action had sapped him of the last of his ability to reign in his emotions, tears pricked his eyes. It looked like it was a tie.

Fuck. Fuck, why do I even bother? He sank onto his bed, utterly defeated. Well, it looks like you've won. Congrats, Sis. He laid the crook of his arm over his eyes, covering them and hoping that he could prevent hideous choked sobs from welling up in his throat.

He gave a start at the sound of a knock at his door. He wasn't expecting anyone. And he hadn't ordered room service…

Ryan got to his feet. He made his way to the mirror and checked to make sure that he didn't resemble someone who had just endured the emotional devastation of watching the ending of Marley and Me, or All Dogs Go To Heaven, before answering the door. His heart missed a beat at the person standing behind it. He hadn't dared to hope, even with news of the big break-up circulating among the staff, and yet-! "Troy!"

"Ryan, you…" The brunette's eyes were glistening, moisture shining on the surface of those ocean colored pools. "You've been the only one on my side, right from the start."

"Troy…" Ryan's heart was in his throat, constricting his airway.

Troy held up the papers that had Ryan's song written on them.

Their song.

The tears that Ryan tried so hard to stifle were flowing freely down his cheeks. "Troy… I…!" Words would not come.

In the end, they didn't need to. Troy threw his arms around Ryan, and the smaller boy returned the embrace full force, burying his face in the athlete's neck.

"Oh, god, Ryan…!" Troy choked out. The blond could feel the vibrations in the brunette's golden throat and chest. "Shit, I'm so stupid! I-!"

"It's all right, Troy." Ryan drew in a breath, trying not to tremble at the burst of emotions that wracked his petite frame. He nuzzled Troy's neck, and ran his hands along the taller boy's back in a soothing manner. "It's okay." While he stood there, snug in Troy's arms and Troy's body against his, at last able to comfort the athlete, Ryan allowed himself to believe his words.

"Ryan."

Ryan looked up to meet Troy's eyes and found them full of intense shame, regret, and longing.

"I know how hard you worked on that show. I'm so sorry."

"Hey, it was fun." Ryan smiled softly. He let his voice take on a slightly firmer tone as he added, "You don't need to be sorry."

A faint smile tugged at Troy's lips. "I'm still sorry, though," he murmured. The regret in his eyes was replaced by a close relative of playfulness.

"Why's that?" Ryan's eyes widened.

"Because I didn't do this, sooner." Troy leaned in, his eyes closing, and Ryan got the message.

The theater king pushed forward on his toes, helping the basketball god to bring their mouths together. Troy's mouth moved tenderly against his. Ryan kissed back, the action earning a pleased sigh that passed from Troy's lips and transformed into a jolt of pure electricity that shot through Ryan's bodily circuitry, down, down, and back around.

They broke off for a moment, and peered into each other's eyes, making sure that this was okay. Then, they resumed kissing.

Troy's lips were so soft, his scent, and his warmth, and his closeness were so overpowering, they seemed to cause a tingle on every pore of Ryan's skin. He opened his mouth, permitting the entrance of Troy's tongue, and relishing the pleased sound that came with the entrance of the muscle. Ryan's arms moved to wind about the virile boy's neck, and Ryan let out his own delighted grunt when Troy's hands found his hips.

When they moved to the bed, the progression felt like something out of one of the movies or stories Ryan had long ago realized his life could never be.

Yet, it felt so natural, and more importantly, right, that neither one of them paused to question it. In fact, there were only two times that pausing of any kind occurred. The first time was when Ryan closed and locked the door to his room to ensure that there would be no interruptions.

Once their clothing was out of the way, Ryan became very familiar with Troy Bolton; Troy's mouth, his tongue, his teeth, which nipped at Ryan's lower lip, then made their way down the blond's neck and chest, grazing his nipple as they went.

"Aah!" Ryan cried out. He worried for a minute about his dynamic, but that was soon forgotten when Troy's fingertips danced down his thighs, the touch driving him mad in the best way.

He pulled Troy to him, kissing softly at the boy's lips and the area just under his jaw bone before plunging his tongue into the brunette's mouth and flicking it over the boy's perfect teeth.

Troy was hard, and damned if his cock did not feel incredible pressed against Ryan's thigh, Ryan's hip, Ryan's own impossibly hard erection… Fuck!

Ryan soon discovered that Troy's earlobes were sensitive, and Troy discovered that using the pads of his thumbs to trace circles on the pelvis bone of the younger Evans twin caused the blond boy to buck his hips so that they met Troy's, causing their members to grind together. Which he proceeded to do over and over, the groans coming from Troy's mouth urging him on until the temperature of the room felt about ten degrees hotter than a scorching summer day in Albuquerque.

The grinding felt amazing, but, it wasn't enough. A deeper connection was wanted. Needed.

The second time pausing occurred was when Troy halted, his eyes wide and panicked.

"What is it?" Ryan inquired breathlessly, his brows knitting in concern.

"L-" Troy swallowed heavily. "Let me know if I hurt you, 'kay?"

Seeing anxiety darken the boy's beautiful features, Ryan kissed him softly, hoping to reassure him. "You won't hurt me. I can handle it," he whispered, staring directly into Troy's eyes to convey his own conviction in his words. To convey his trust in the brunette. He bit down on his lower lip.

A fierce sparkle ignited Troy's gaze and he nodded resolutely, regaining his confidence. He lifted a hand, and cradled the blond's soft face in his palm.

Ryan turned out to be right.

Yes, there was pain at first, but, Troy was so gentle, waiting until the theater king grew used to the feeling of the athlete being inside of him, and encouraged him softly, even though Troy must have wanted to thrust furiously until he brought himself to climax.

Happiness filled every nook and cranny, every inch of Ryan from head to foot. He was overcome, and so was Troy. Ryan could see it in the boy's face. He could feel it in the way that their bodies tangled together.

When it was over, they stared into each other's eyes. What felt like a year passed by.

"H-How was it?" Troy asked, his voice a quiet, sort of tremulous whisper, and his bangs dampened by sweat.

"Amazing," Ryan answered him. He smiled lovingly, his blue eyes teeming with the intensity of that emotion. "Just like you."

Troy's entire face was illuminated. It was the happiest Ryan had seen the boy in far, far too long. He was just on the verge of saying something, but words and speech were unnecessary. The look in his eyes, and the gentle lingering kiss he pressed to the lips of the blond theater king, said everything.

Ryan didn't even have to ask him to stay. Troy simply stayed, letting Ryan snuggle into his chest, and holding tightly to the smaller boy. He ran his fingers along Ryan's pale, creamy shoulders until the blond's breathing eased and he fell into a contented sleep.

The bed was empty when Ryan awoke. A pang shot through his chest. Was it all a dream? The thought was practically unbearable. As his consciousness slowly returned to full capacity, he discerned that he was, in fact, nude. Seeing as he didn't usually slumber in the buff, he came to the conclusion that something must have happened. Troy's warmth, his scent, his essence, still lingered on the pillows and bed sheets far too vividly for it to all have been a lucid fantasy.

Right?

Moving to sit up, Ryan caught sight of a slip of paper out of the corner of his eye. He retrieved it, taking in the familiar print that formed the note. A smile gradually played on his lips.

Troy paced anxiously at the door to the locker room. He'll be there, he told himself firmly. I can bet on that much. So then, why was Troy himself, hesitating? He pushed the door open, then paused at it, resting his head against the sturdy wooden structure. Fear coursed through him, upping his pulse and causing his stomach to churn. But, he had something to do. He couldn't bail, now. Turning around, he plunged right in, and, rounding the corner, was met with the sight of Chad Danforth waiting for him.

Chad was also dressed in formal waiter attire; a dress shirt, dress pants, a vest, and a tie.

Anxiety clenched Troy's chest. He gulped, feeling exposed, perfectly vulnerable. The thought of a fight breaking out, or, worse, facing rejection by the boy he viewed as a brother, made his knees feel weak. Like jelly.

Chad, however, did not seem angered by the mere presence of the brunette, as he had been for the last two weeks. No. His expression read things more along the lines of confusion, probably at the fact that Troy Bolton was wearing the uniform of the employees on waiter duty, and mild disbelief, as if he couldn't quite grasp that Troy Bolton had deigned to rejoin the lowly employees of Lava Springs on the night of his big performance with the queen of the country club.

The curly-haired boy moved forward. "Kelsi told us what went down between you and Sharpay."

After his night with Ryan, Troy left a note at the blond's bedside, then headed home to change. He had a good talk with his dad, who told him that he'd figure out the right thing to do, and then went and told Sharpay exactly what he had intended to; that he wasn't going to sing with her. That he didn't like the way she was treating his friends, or the way that he, himself, was, so he was doing something about it. He refused to listen to any of her excuses or attempts to dissuade him. His mind was set, as his red Wildcats t-shirt proudly declared. Troy's plan all along was not only to get money to help pay for his college tuition, but also to enjoy the summer with all of his friends while he still had the chance. He wasn't going to let anyone get in the way of that, anymore.

It was that simple. Troy wasn't sure how Kelsi had overheard his confrontation with the blonde girl, but he was thankful, all the same, that she had relayed the news to the Wildcats. "I'm more interested in what went down between me and you, man." He started somewhat timidly, his throat tight. "…I was a jerk."

"Yeah." Chad wasn't going to deny it. But, his brown-eyed gaze was softer, willing to accept what the taller brunette had to say.

This gave Troy the courage to go on. "But, hey. Brothers fight…"

A smile tugged at Chad's lips. "…they're still brothers."

Troy nodded faintly. As Chad's arms wrapped about him, patting his backside, he returned the hug, reprieved of a huge weight that had been crushing his chest.

Cheers went up, and clapping sounded in the kitchen. Chad let him go, and Troy spoke up. "Guys, I messed up your show. And I'm sorry."

Chad shot him a look that was a mixture of bewilderment and amusement.

Out of the corner of his eye, Troy recognized a familiar slender but curvy hatted figure standing off to the side. Just like I knew he would be.

Zeke Baylor stepped forward, clad in a full chef's uniform. "Yeah, 'cause show-business is our entire lives, right?" He joked, giving Troy a prod. Chad jovially pushed his brunette best friend into the once more warm and friendly group.

Troy couldn't help but smile. His terror and anxiety were gone. He had been accepted back into his group of friends with no feelings of bitterness, resentment, or envy hanging around. He considered himself pretty damned lucky. Troy turned to Chad. "I hope that you haven't permanently filled my spot in the two on two game."

The curly-haired boy smiled reassuringly.

Now, there was one final objective on Troy Bolton's to do list. Whirling to face the boy that stood behind him, Troy added, "And, Ryan."

The blond's surprise was obvious, but his face and sky blue eyes were luminous.

Troy's heart fluttered, heat making the rounds through every centimeter of his body as he recalled the insistent, needy, desperate, tender kisses and touches he had traded with the beautiful king of East High's drama department. The fact that Ryan's decadent floral printed dress shirt that he wore beneath a black blazer that fit his form perfectly, exposed his collar bone and creamy throat, and that his lips were coated in a shimmering, candied pink gloss, and he was giving Troy that look, did little to lessen that effect. He extended his hand to Ryan, giving the smaller boy an unmistakable look of encouragement as he not-so-subtly scoped him out.

The look that Ryan returned with half-lidded glowing eyes after he had followed the athlete's gaze down his body, made it clear that he was enticed. He slid his hand into Troy's slowly, their fingers interlacing, as he stepped forward to meet the brunette. Tingles shot up Troy's arm, and when Ryan broke into a grin revealing that adorable? Sexy? Beautiful? overbite of his, Troy amply reciprocated it.

Some insinuating chuckles rose up.

Chad's eyebrows elevated to his hairline.

"I promise, man. I'll explain everything," Troy hurriedly assured his bushy-haired friend. He caught the eye of his wide-eyed… boyfriend? Yeah. "Boyfriend" had a nice ring to it. "Later."

"Right." Chad shook his head, a bemused smile on his lips that quickly put the pair at ease.

Shaggy-haired Jason Cross grinned and nudged Zeke.

Troy felt a hell of a lot happier than he had in some time. But, there was one thing that still wasn't sitting well with him.

"What's wrong?" Ryan inquired softly.

Troy shook his head. It wasn't right. "All of you guys should be out there, doing your show."

"Well, who says we won't?" Martha Cox, the brainiac hip-hop dancer piped up, beaming.

Smiles broke out on the faces of the rest of the Wildcats.

"Huh?" A look of confusion crossed Troy's face. He, alone, seemed to be out of the loop. A nervous laugh escaped him. "Guys, what's-?"

"Come on, Captain. We can't do it without you." Chad nudged Troy, his brown eyes twinkling playfully.

Ryan wore a look that Troy couldn't have said "no" to if his life depended on it.

He gave his best effort, however. "I can't learn a new song."

"Kelsi will help you with it." Ryan's eyes glowed brightly with his confidence in the athlete's musical abilities.

Troy blushed, feeling as though his heart was liquefying. He was still shocked, but his protests died in his throat as Kelsi, who had entered the kitchen at some point, took hold of his hand and whisked him off to the music room.

The sheaf of music laying on top of the piano had a very familiar title. And, as Troy soon discovered as he sang along to the notes the petite brunette girl played out on the glossy instrument, the melody was quite familiar, too.

Ryan had stopped by to pay his sister a little visit before making his way to the kitchen. He had a message to relay to the "queen of Lava Springs". After reading the note Troy had left for him, the theater king knew that he just had to wait for the golden boy to act.

Just as he had expected, a distraught and furious Sharpay had demanded that Kelsi fetch him. When Ryan pulled open the curtains to his sister's dressing room, she turned away from her vanity where she sat, applying make-up while clad in her Princess Tiki costume. "There you are!" Her inflection was a mixture of relief and exasperation. "Thank goodness you've come to your senses! Plug in the volcano, "Humuhumu"'s back on."

Before the last two words were out of her mouth, an unimpressed Ryan was cutting her to the chase, smirking wryly. "Enjoy your pineapple on your own, Sis. I'm not doing the show." He turned to exeunt, but her incredulous exclamation of

"What?" pulled him back. She traversed to him, scoffing, "Oh, put some fresh batteries in your tiki warrior costume, and let's get going."

"Took your advice. Sold it online." He watched the self-assured smile on Sharpay's face morph into a frown. A feeling of accomplishment welled up inside of him. It was time for the big finish. "You always wanted the spotlight. Now, you've got it. Break a leg." With a punctuation of "MAH!", jazz hands to emphasize it, and a last smile to, politely as possible, deliver his not so polite intended message, he made his exit.

The feeling of satisfaction hit him full-force when he heard her frustrated snarl peal out. He honestly did not want to see her utterly humiliate herself and crash and burn onstage by trying to perform the number without him, either, however.

Now, Ryan stood off to the side and out of sight, looking on as Troy took the stage. That satisfied feeling increased tenfold when the opening chords sounded, cuing Troy Bolton's brassy, melodious tenor-baritone to begin singing the words of Ryan's own song, "Everyday".

Once in a lifetime

Means there's no second chance

Troy paused, his brows knitting together as he scanned his surroundings for something. Or… someone? He turned to the backstage area, his eyes lighting up as he found who he was looking for.

Ryan's heart missed a beat.

So, I believe that you and me

Should grab it while we can

As confused murmurings started ascending out in the audience, Ryan saw little else that he could do but sing the part that had been, at one point, written in the key of Gabriella Montez's signature soprano.

Make it last forever

And never give it back

It's our turn, and I'm lovin'

Where we're at Troy's ocean blue eyes sparkled with raw sincerity.

Ryan's voice rang out, clear and full, as he joined it in a seamless melody to Troy's harmony.

Because, this moment's really

All we have

The blond hoped fervently that that was no longer the case.

Troy stepped toward Ryan, the timing of his footfalls matching the rhythm of the song.

Everyday of our lives

Ryan countered him, drawn to the boy by a force that he could no longer summon the will to resist.

Wanna find you there,

Wanna hold on tight

Gonna run, Troy sang, moving to meet the blond halfway.

While we're young, Ryan sang with him.

And keep the faith

Everyday There was the slightest quaver in the brunette's voice.

From right now As Ryan drew closer to the athlete, he became certain that his heart was going to explode, if it didn't choke him first.

Gonna use our voices

To scream out loud

Take my hand The younger Evans offered his hand, trying to keep his legs from quaking. A sizable portion of his brain was convinced he was dreaming.

But, no. Troy took Ryan's hand, his larger appendage warm, strong, and real as it closed about the hand of the performer.

Together we will celebrate

Celebrate, Ryan echoed.

Oh, everyday, they finished together. Troy pulled Ryan into him, the blond snuggling into the virile brunette boy's throat. This was happening. Although Ryan could not quite believe any of his senses, this chain of event was actually unfolding right before his eyes.

The pair made their way toward center stage, crossing behind Kelsi. A pang of guilt struck Ryan. He knew the girl had wanted to see Troy and Gabriella perform in the show. But, it seemed that Troy had "listened to his heart", and thus had other plans. That Ryan, also, had other plans.

They sang through "Everyday", their voices teeming with the sort of passion one can only have when they've lived the lyrics. Every dance step was executed flawlessly despite Troy having never attended a rehearsal for the number. When they reached the bridge of the song, Troy nuzzled his nose against Ryan's and took hold of the petite boy's hand. Together, they turned downstage to the audience to find the Wildcats singing along, and dancing their way toward the stage.

Troy shot Ryan a look of mild incredulity that was quickly replaced by a fond smile.

Happiness tingled on every pore of Ryan's skin. As their friends joined them, Troy dashed off to, much to Ryan's pleasant surprise, bring Sharpay, who had also been standing off to the side with Mr. Fulton, up to join them. The song built as everyone formed a circle, then split off into a line across the downstage area. The dancers of the group fully showcased their abilities, Ryan and Troy's vocalizations soaring out over top of the repeated "Live everyday, love everyday".

The Evans and Bolton parents were front and center, standing up and beaming as they cheered their children on.

By the end of the night, Sharpay had awarded, much to Ryan's astonishment, and Troy's sheer delight, her brother the highly coveted Star Dazzle Award. The siblings embraced each other, all of the suffocating tension between them evaporating. Sharpay whispered into Ryan's ear that she was happy for him, but he had some serious explaining to do. Then, she extended an invitation to everyone to a party that would be taking place around the pool the next day.

Ryan Evans's life had suddenly morphed into something. He didn't have a name for it, yet, but if the look in Troy Bolton's blue eyes, the perfect smile on his face, and the ease with which his hand fit snugly around Ryan's were anything to go by, this was, hopefully, a drastic improvement for both of them.

Even if it meant facing Sharpay and the no doubt tactless interrogation to come.

"So, Ryan…"

"Hm?" Ryan swung his arm, and Troy let the motion of the limb carry his own. The two of them had changed out of their dressy performance attire and into a polo, hat, and jeans, and a t-shirt and blue jeans, respectively. These clothes were now soaked due to an impromptu frolicking session under the sprinkler system. They were on their way back to the blond's room to shower before Troy had to go home for the night.

"After the party tomorrow."

"Yeah?" Ryan turned half expectant blue eyes on the brunette athlete. It was as if he was afraid to hope.

That was something that was going to change. Troy promised himself that. "Would you like to go somewhere? M-Maybe have dinner with me?" His heart palpitated, his cheeks flaring with sudden heat. Ryan wouldn't say no, would he?

"I'd love to," Ryan replied, his eyes glowing to match the earnest smile playing on his pink lips.

"Great." Troy returned the smile, feeling sudden warmth despite his damp clothing and the chill of the night air that prickled his skin.

When Ryan shivered, Troy kissed the boy's cheek in the hopes of warming him up, as well.

After their dinner together at a nice little restaurant, Troy brought Ryan back to his house. "Mom! Dad! I'm home!" He had announced, drawing the attention of his mother and father. Ryan greeted the Boltons politely. Taking notice of Ryan's rigid posture, Troy held the performer's hand in an attempt to calm him.

Jack and Lucille Bolton were visibly a bit surprised to see the blond boy accompanying their son, but neither of them had anything negative to express about it. Troy hoped it was because of the long talk he'd had with them the previous night after the talent show. It was decided that Ryan seemed to make Troy happy, and that was all that really mattered.

Lucille returned the greeting and wished the boys goodnight as they passed through the front room hand in hand.

"Goodnight," they both replied.

Jack looked up from the TV in the living room to grin and tease them, "Just remember to keep it down, you two," which caused Troy to blush furiously. The senior Bolton's glee at his son's expense was cut short when his wife called for him to come help her with the dishes.

Before they had made their way to Troy's bed, which was comparatively smaller than Ryan's back at Lava Springs, Troy and Ryan's lips were already being crushed together, both of them savoring the sweet sensation. It had been too long since their last kiss.

Or, it felt that way, at least.

As they sat on the bed, Ryan broke off gently. "Troy?"

"Yeah?"

"N-Next year." The blond swallowed, his brows knitting as he searched for the right words. "If we're still together…"

"We will be," Troy assured him firmly. Ryan's insecurity was endearing, but it also slightly perturbed the brunette. He'd had dinner with the Evans family, and from sitting at the table with them, he got the vibe that Sharpay was the "favorite" child. Blatant favoritism in the family would negatively affect anyone. It looked like Troy would have to be just a bit more doting, attentive, and romantic with Ryan. Which won't be a problem.

Ryan continued, "I want to help you out in anyway that I can with getting a scholarship. I mean, not that you need my help, or anything, but…"

Troy took hold of Ryan's hand, smiling lovingly as he ran his thumbs over the performer's knuckles. "Thank you."

His uncertainty vanishing, Ryan returned the smile.

Later that night, once they had gone through the preparations necessary for sleep, Troy pulled aside the covers. Ryan accepted the invitation and snuggled in beside him.

"Hey, Ry," Troy started, "I heard this song on the radio, the other day, and it reminded me of you."

"Yeah?" A smile quirked up Ryan's candy pink lips.

"Yeah." Troy nodded. "It goes like this." He paused to clear his throat and get his spontaneously hammering heart under control before singing softly, sincerely:

You're insecure

Don't know what for

You're turnin' heads when you

Walk through the door

As if he already knew the song, which he more than likely did, considering the air play it received, Ryan's jaw dropped open incredulously before he cupped his hands over his mouth in awe.

Don't need makeup, Troy went on.

To cover up

Bein' the way that you are

Is enough

Ryan's blue eyes blazed with extreme happiness, and another emotion that Troy hadn't realized just how much he had missed seeing in the eyes of another person.

Everyone else in the room

Can see it

Everyone else but

You

He got to the chorus, and Ryan joined in at a piano dynamic, his alto-tenor voice full to the brim with emotion.

Baby, you light up my world

Like nobody else

The way that you flip your hair

Gets me overwhelmed

But when you smile at the ground

It's not hard to tell

You don't know

You don't know you're beautiful

If only you saw

What I can see,

You'll understand why

I want you so desperately

They moved into each other, Troy nuzzling his nose against Ryan's, and relishing the heat that came off of the blond's fair face.

Right now, I'm looking at you

And I can't believe

You don't know

You don't know you're beautiful

Troy pulled back just enough so that he could see all of Ryan's lovely features.

And that's what makes you beautiful, he finished softly.

"Oh, you…!" Ryan, his eyes glistening, and wearing a smile that could have split his face in two, lifted a hand and caressed Troy's sun-kissed visage. The athlete sighed contentedly, his eyes closing as he leaned into the touch. Ryan's hands were larger than Gabriella's, but they were soft and cool, and felt nice on Troy's skin. "Everything changes…" Ryan said quietly.

"Hm?" Troy reopened his eyes to see the blond smiling with his forehead creased slightly and his eyes moist.

"Oh!" Ryan cleared his throat. "I was just thinking about something that I said to Sharpay on the last day of school. His shoulders jerked and he snapped into an imitation of himself. ""It's summer! We get to do whatever we want to"." His eyes returned to Troy's eyes and his demeanor changed. His voice dropped to a near whisper. ""Everything changes"."

Troy stared, his heart rate picking up just a bit. Then, he smiled. "I think this is a good change." He laid his hand over top of the smaller boy's hand where they rested on Troy's lap.

"I have to agree." Ryan returned the smile, and nudged Troy gently. He settled in, his head resting against the basketball player's shoulder.

Troy rested his cheek against Ryan's hatless blond head. He treasured everything about the moment and the person at his side, and he looked forward to whatever the future had in store for them.

Until then…

It was unexpected, but the summer that Troy Bolton and Ryan Evans wanted? Yeah, they finally got it.

A/N: The idea to have Troy and Ryan sing that particular song at the end of the story came from a friend on Tumblr. The Boyce Avenue cover is the version that I imagine them singing.

Thank you all for bearing with me. The next time we meet, I will present you with the promised one-shot lead up to Introspective's sequel.

Until then, dear readers.