Chapter Text
If someone had told Chad a year ago that he'd be relieved to run into the arms of a blonde twink at the club at 3 am, he would have knocked them out. Now, though, he had no choice but to resign to his fate.
He was obsessed with Ryan Evans. It took him far too long to admit to himself, but he was sure of it now. He was fully unbelievably dangerously obsessed with Ryan Evans.
He liked to think that he had been normal about Ryan at some point, that he hadn't seen this coming. But who was he kidding? He'd been infatuated with that stupid nerd since the day they met.
When he watched the blonde stride into his intro biology class in suede bell bottoms and a matching hat, he was sure the feeling that stirred in his chest was hatred. At the very least it had to be something bitter.
Ryan was the kind of person his friends would talk shit about: rich, dainty, overconfident, and materialistic. Everything was handed to him, everything came easy. His comfort was a slap in the face to everyone in the room.
But he quickly realized that hatred wasn't an emotion he could feel towards Ryan. It had to be something deeper, something more intense, something that justified his intrusive thoughts and sleepless nights.
Chad didn't even talk to the other boy at first, even when they were paired for labs. Evans came right after Danforth on the attendance sheet, so it happened frequently.
They'd share answers and discuss their measurements, and sometimes Ryan would correct him on focusing the microscope. As soon as class was over, Chad would grab his bag and head out without another word, the image of Ryan's fingers on the knobs still fresh in his mind.
He spent weeks monitoring Ryan's Instagram before actually deciding to follow him. Technically it wasn't stalking since his page was public and he had nearly 10,000 followers.
Still, Chad nearly had a heart attack when he accidentally liked a photo of Ryan at the beach from over a year ago. He just couldn't help but admire the gentle tan on his pale skin and the way it brought out his dimples.
Sometimes he'd lose track of time watching the stories Ryan posted from his ballet studio. More often than not he'd end up late to class and wouldn’t be able to think straight for the rest of the day.
He hadn't intended to get involved, really. He was still trying to convince himself that this fixation was nothing more than curiosity and confusion. It would fade by the end of the semester, and he'd finally be able to get on with his life.
That was before he became aware of Ryan's network.
Being rich in an expansive southern suburb was enough to make people talk, but not enough to warrant the whispers that followed him wherever he went.
Chad thought that he might have heard the name Evans floating around somewhere. But it didn't hit him until he saw it on a party flier in October.
Apparently, the Evans family hosted the biggest Halloween party in town even before their kids went to U of A. Every year they'd rent out a penthouse, hire a bartender, decorate for a theme, and get hundreds of people completely shitfaced.
Chad had been to their Nightmare on Elm Street party last year, though he'd been told that the hosts were conveniently absent and also massive bell ends.
He'd puked over the edge of the terrace, blacked out, and woken up next to a girl whose name he never found out. Those parties were legendary.
While making plans for this Halloween, he'd had the misfortune of meeting Ryan's twin sister, Sharpay, though he never would have guessed they were related. Ryan was quick to point out that they were the same height and dressed in the same color schemes. It was mortifying.
Both Ryan's similarity to Sharpay and the fact that he was actually talking to Chad now.
He'd approached him at a sorority house party after discovering that he knew both Taylor and Gabriella. Gabriella was dating Troy, and Troy knew everyone in the theater program. They were practically already part of the same circle.
Chad didn't want to be in the same circle as Ryan. It meant that they'd end up hanging out more, and he couldn't afford to get distracted.
He was here on a basketball scholarship trying desperately for a Communications degree so that he could do whatever it was adults were supposed to do with their lives. Make money, settle down, make his parents proud.
Shit like that.
Ryan, on the other hand, didn't need to care about things like budgeting or parental supervision. He had everything he could ever want, and he was still gunning for more. His Broadway aspirations were no secret and, judging by the way he talked about his auditions, they were no joke either.
To Ryan, singing and dancing were just as essential as breathing. Which was what he'd told a group of their friends during a late-night Sonic run. Gabriella patted him on the back and Zeke told him he was delusional, but Chad just looked down at his milkshake.
That night, a spark flickered somewhere deep in his chest, and it never went away. Because Ryan was pretty and popular and easy to get along with, but he was also breathtakingly real.
Not once had he seen Ryan in a bad mood, even when he was bothered by something. He always managed to pick up his spirits with something as simple as a musical reference. He could block out the whole world if he wanted to just by playing show tunes in one ear.
Troy managed to convince him to come to the gym with the rest of the guys one Saturday. Since he was a good sport he tried all of their routines at least once. Chad, of course, offered to spot him when he got to the bench press. He didn't get very far, but his form was excellent.
Even after the rest of them had tired themselves out, Ryan insisted on finishing his leg workout — I'm a dancer, he said, every day is leg day, he said— while he memorized the soundtrack to Legally Blonde.
Everyone else left, but Chad stayed to walk him home.
He'd never thought of dance as a sport until he saw how dedicated Ryan was. It reminded him of how he felt about basketball. He was just as much of an athlete as Chad, thought not nearly as muscular. But what the boy lacked in size he made up for in agility.
He had a good arm and a good aim, and he ran like the fucking wind.
Chad would never have guessed that he liked baseball, much less that he was a former Little League Champion. All it took was one impromptu baseball game at Gabi's suggestion to turn his impression of Ryan completely on its head.
Even while leather-clad on a hot September afternoon, Ryan kicked ass. He was full of surprises. Which was why Chad was obsessed with him.
He wasn't sure at what point in the year they started hanging out. Ryan was the kind of guy his friends usually made fun of. He walked, talked, and dressed like the profiles they left nasty comments on when they were wandering around campus high off their asses.
And yet, they all wanted him around. Especially Chad. And now his friends were Ryan's friends.
Zeke was always trying to get him to play basketball, which he always declined. He was nowhere near tall enough to play with any of the Wildcats, and it just wasn't his sport.
Jason was always offering to get high with him, which he sometimes accepted. He certainly wasn't a prude, but he said he preferred edibles since smoking was rough on his vocal cords.
Taylor and Gabriella were obsessed with him, though not in the same way that Chad was. They took him shopping regularly to get his opinion on new outfits, which they said he always gave with brutal honesty.
Troy liked his company but didn't want him getting close to Gabriella for some reason. It wasn't like Ryan was going to steal her away.
Some of the other Wildcats still called him a fag behind his back, but they all treated him kindly to his face.
Chad recalled one occasion where Antonio had broken this rule twice in one day, how quickly he'd reacted, the way Zeke had to physically hold him back so he wouldn't get himself suspended. If Chad hit a teammate more than once, he'd probably end up benched for the season. Still, once was enough to set an example.
He knew he had no right to be as protective of Ryan as he was. They barely knew each other. Most of their conversations started with a noncommittal ‘Sup Evans’ and ended with a distant glance.
Still, he just couldn’t seem to get the kid out of his fucking head.
Even as they were spending more time together, Chad tried to remain as hands-off as possible. Because he knew that if he got more involved he wouldn't be able to help himself.
Instead, he resorted to glaring at anyone who gave the other boy funny looks in public. It didn’t matter if they were gawking, taunting, or sizing him up. Chad would have none of it.
Ryan didn't need to see any of that. He already knew what people thought of him.
What Chad couldn't seem to fathom, though, was how little he cared. Ryan had tried to explain it to him one night after someone shoved very rudely past him at an off-campus bar.
“Leave him alone, just forget about it,” he whisper-yelled, grabbing the side of Chad's jacket.
“He did it on purpose, I fucking saw him,” Chad snapped.
Ryan shushed him again. “I know, but it's not worth getting angry over. I don't wanna get kicked out before my second drink.”
“I wasn't–” Chad cut himself off. He was angry, and he probably would have started a fight if that piece of trash didn't apologize. “Don't you wanna do something about it?”
“No, not really. He doesn't know me, why should I care?” Ryan replied, rubbing his shoulder where he'd been bumped.
“Because he was being a douchebag.”
“Yeah, and that's his problem, not mine.”
Chad hummed in disagreement. Left with no other arguments, he sulked into his beer and turned his attention back to Troy.
Much later into the night, the piece of trash in question went into the bathroom with Ryan, who returned alone 10 minutes later looking pleased with himself.
Somehow, even when he was clearly wounded, nothing could shake Ryan Evans and his bright, unwavering conviction.
After that, Chad made several excuses about needing to get fresh air, left to smoke a joint with Jason, and walked back to his dorm in the bitter cold, shrinking into his jacket and watching his breath fade into the night sky.
He couldn't bear to see Ryan with that man again, it was all too much.
Ryan was charming, and he could always talk someone into buying him a drink or wandering off to chat in private or whatever it was he did with the guys he brought home.
Chad was convinced the blonde could have his way with anyone he wanted so long as he tipped his hat and gave them the right smile. But for whatever reason, he never seemed to pick anyone who stuck around longer than a week.
Occasionally Chad would make a mental note of the people who were shitty to him. Just in case. Whenever he had the opportunity to guide karma towards someone who deserved it, it gave him some peace of mind for a day or two.
Besides, Ryan's enemies weren't usually what got him in trouble.
It wasn't like Ryan wasn't allowed to have friends. He had plenty of friends, and lots of people liked him. Too many people, in Chad's opinion.
And it wasn't like any of those friends took time away from him and Ryan. He could just text and ask to see him if he wasn't such a Goddamn coward. Ryan lived alone, and his apartment was only a few blocks up from the business school.
But as luck would have it, Chad was a coward. And a jealous one at that.
Ryan didn't add him to his close friends story for weeks and, when he finally did, most of it was just detailed rants about buying new clothes or 30 seconds of a song from whatever show he was doing.
Still, Chad played every video in full just to hear his voice.
Every so often one of his posts would catch who he was out with; part of someone's hand or the sleeve of their shirt or a portion of their morning coffee order. He could always tell when it was a date because Ryan's name would be on both cups.
Ryan was allowed to go on dates with cute strangers. But that didn't mean Chad wasn't allowed to ask about said strangers.
“So if you're both guys then which one of you is supposed to pay?” Jason blurted one day in the cafeteria. Ryan, who had been painting a detailed picture of the man who took him ice skating last weekend, side-eyed him casually
“Well I always pay for my dates since it's not an issue for me,” he mused, checking his cuticles. “I'm not big on meaningless chivalry.”
Chad recalled a few of the posts he'd shared that day. There was a video of Ryan spinning gracefully across the ice that he'd played far too many times, as well as a staged picture of their fingers touching each other's cups.
He remembered it because Ryan had added a vintage filter and a couple of hearts around their order.
“But it's so Goddamn expensive,” Chad said, turning a few heads his way.
None of the Wildcats had ever actually set foot in the campus coffee shop. It was far too queer, even for a Starbucks (Ryan had said so himself). They did poke fun at it from time to time, but Chad had banned them all from using the term ‘fairy lights’ just to be safe.
“Like I said, I'm not concerned about my boyfriend budget,” Ryan replied coolly. “You can learn a lot about someone from their drink order.”
The word boyfriend made Chad tense. Because none of the guys Ryan took out were good enough to be his boyfriend.
Obviously, he'd never actually met any of Ryan's hookups. He wouldn't want to meet them even if they made it to the ‘boyfriend’ stage. “Right, I just figured you'd get tired of wasting money on guys you don't know for more than a month,” he said.
Ryan cut his eyes across the table, sudden silence following his glare. “Time has nothing to do with my ambitions as long as it's time well spent. If you consider that a waste, then I feel sorry for your exes.”
A few of the younger Wildcats snickered and covered their mouths. Chad furrowed his brow, face reddening. “That's not what I meant,” he muttered, though the group's attention had already shifted.
“That's deep man, I never thought about it like that,” Jason nodded earnestly.
He sounded ridiculous, but Ryan still beamed at the compliment. “Besides,” he added. “Lake and I aren't planning on wasting anything.”
Chad's eyes flashed. Lake. He had a name.
For the next couple of weeks, he listened patiently while Ryan talked about his latest fling, painting a picture of the man in great detail. He listened to the blonde gush and plan and took note of anything that would open a window to his personality.
Lake Isaiah-Gibson was well liked among the seniors. He was tall and lanky, and he always dressed nicely for class. He was a business major with a nice apartment on the west side of town, and he drove a green Range Rover that he always parked by the waterfront.
Everything about him was obnoxious, from his military buzz cut to his public rap playlist to the fact that he left bad reviews at restaurants if he didn't like the waitress.
He didn't even seem like Ryan's type.
Still, Chad smiled supportively and wished him luck on their date. And when Ryan looked crestfallen in the library the next day, he feigned surprise.
“You look tired, did you get coffee this morning?” He asked innocently.
“No, I was gonna brew some at home but I just wasn't up to it.” Ryan looked down at his lap. There were light bags forming under his eyes, and his newly manicured nails were being bit to the stubs.
“Did something happen?” Chad studied the other boy's posture, forming follow-up questions before he got a response.
“Kind of. It wasn't a bad date, I guess, I just haven't heard back from him.”
Once again, Chad faked as much ignorance as he could in order to maintain plausible deniability for what came next. “Oh right, didn't you see that guy with the green Jeep or something?”
“Yeah, sure,” Ryan said. If he was too out of it to correct Chad on expensive brands, last night must have affected him. “We watched Pirates of the Caribbean and he made me a smoothie, but I just didn't like his attitude.”
Chad tapped his pencil on the edge of Ryan's notebook. “Wanna talk about it?”
Ryan took off his hat to turn it over in his hands instead of biting his nails. His hair was still neatly combed, if not a bit long around the edges. “There's not much to talk about,” he said.
“I could tell he didn't like the food I made, and he kept talking over the movie. And then when we were making out, I said I didn't wanna have sex since it was the first time he came over. And he acted like it was all fine. But then he went to stand out on the balcony and he smelled like cigarettes when he got back in bed. And then he was gone when I woke up this morning.”
That motherfucker.
Chad saw red instantly. How dare that skinhead idiot make Ryan wait, how dare he act so high and mighty. He didn't deserve half the time Ryan had spent making those stuffed peppers, let alone the time he must have waited for Lake to finish smoking.
“Well you dodged a bullet, he sounds like a pain in the ass.”
Ryan chuckled and gave him a soft smile. “Thanks. I just wish he'd text me.”
It made Chad's stomach churn to watch Ryan pine over such a miserable shit stain. He had better things to do with his life.
“If he doesn't have the guts to end it in person then he's not worth the wait,” said Kelsi, who had joined to help him through a long reading assignment. Chad sat up straighter.
He couldn't quite put into words why he and Kelsi didn't get along. She was perky and petite and her pigtails bounced with every gesture she made. Nothing about her was threatening or unfriendly.
She always smiled like she wanted people’s approval, and she always had thoughtful advice to give despite how long it took her to speak up.
Ryan absolutely adored her.
“Thanks, Kels, you're probably right,” he sighed. “Things were going well, I dunno what changed. I don't think I did anything wrong.”
Chad scowled. “He's just mad because he didn't get his dick wet. Did he even tell you he was gonna smoke, or did he just walk off?”
Ryan shook his head. “He didn't say shit about it, he must have thought I couldn't tell.”
“Well clearly he's dumber than he looks, and he was ugly to begin with.”
At that, Ryan gave a genuine laugh, chewing at his lower lip to hold back the grin that was spreading. He put his hat back on, straightened his sweater vest, and went back to studying.
Despite the way Chad kept his cool for the rest of the study session, his blood was boiling for days after.
Kelsi reported that their friend was in higher spirits by the time the weekend hit, and back to the dance studio by the following Monday. It would have been so easy to drop it and move on.
But he couldn't shake the feeling that this Lake guy was using Ryan. No one would treat him with such disregard if they really cared.
Chad broke a few things in his garage before he found a way to blow off some steam.
The idea of that stuck-up little prick putting his dirty hands all over Ryan made him want to break the guy’s fucking nose. He didn't though. All things considered, that meant he was showing restraint, if only for his friend's sake.
The day they were supposed to be growing bacteria in biology, Ryan walked in with two cups, tight jeans and pink Converse drawing attention to the spring in his step. “I got you something,” he said lightly as he sat down.
Chad eyed the cup that sat closer to him, noticing that they both had Ryan's name on them. One was his usual iced coffee with syrup and whipped cream on top, and one was a smaller cardboard cup with a dark lid. “You shouldn't have done that,” he said, though he was fighting a yawn.
“It's just a little pick-me-up for the morning. I wanted to guess what kind of drink you'd go for.” Ryan nudged the cup towards him eagerly.
They took their notebooks out, and Chad eyed the label on the travel sleeve. For some reason, the words Dirty Chai made him shiver like he'd just seen a ghost.
“I really don't drink coffee that often,” he said.
He took a slow sip, feeling the way the drink went smoothly down his throat and eased some of the tension he'd been carrying in his chest. There was a heavy spice to it underneath the milky sweetness.
Cautiously, he took another sip. “What did you put in this?”
“I wasn't sure if you wanted it more strong or sweet, so I got a dark roast and added whipped cream,” said Ryan.
The caffeine turned out to be a useful start to his morning. He'd had his fair share of sleepless nights recently, and he was looking for another way to ease his muddled dreams than a steamy shower and a sore wrist.
Chad made sure to jot down the order while the boy's back was turned. “It's not bad,” he mumbled, letting the warmth wash over him. “But I prefer blondes.”
Ryan's cheeks went pink.
“What did you get?” he asked.
“Oh, just a peppermint mocha. I added sprinkles this time though.”
Chad rolled his eyes. “Of course you did.”
“Well it's a treat,” Ryan said, sticking out his chin. “I got accepted to this talent recruitment thing that the business school set up.” He started lining up their petri dishes and gathering supplies.
“Oh congrats, then,” said Chad, double-checking the names of their cultures.
“I'd forgotten all about that application until I mentioned it to Lake one time.” Ryan dropped his notebook down loud enough to startle a few students who were walking past.
Chad took another sip of his coffee. “Was that the, uhhh, Jeep guy?”
“Try again.”
He looked down. “Range Rover, I think.” In his defense, it wasn't exactly hard to spot.
“Have you seen him around recently?”
From the way Ryan's eyes bore into his soul it was obvious that he knew what Chad had done. For some reason, to some extent, he knew. “I may have run into him or something,” Chad mumbled.
“Or something,” Ryan scoffed. He sipped his drink daintily and nudged Chad aside to reach for the pipette. “He looked tired, and he didn't even stop to say hi. He just waved.”
Whatever justification Ryan had for keeping things civil, Chad couldn't be bothered. He cleared his throat. “It looks like he's out of your way, then.”
Ryan's gaze was chilling and unreadable through those thick lashes and it set all of his nerves on fire. “I suppose I should be grateful.”
The only thing Chad learned in class that morning was just how many ways Ryan Evans could get him up in the morning.
No matter how often they spoke or how much he cared, Chad couldn't stop thinking about him.
At first he felt frustrated whenever he had those thoughts around Ryan. It was as if everyone around them could sense his shame even when it wasn't, y'know, painfully obvious.
Whenever he felt that heat pooling in his stomach he'd start to trip over his words. But he eventually discovered a way to ease that pent-up frustration later at night.
He found himself paying more attention in the lab just to commit the movements of Ryan's hands to memory. Then, at the end of the day, he'd grab a bottle of lotion and work himself over, picturing Ryan’s careful grip tightening around his cock while he came.
Initially, he allowed himself only one hand so he could keep the other available to stifle his cries. But recently he'd been forced to look for times when Troy was out of the dorm to get off. He just couldn't keep his mouth shut.
The moans that escaped his lips grew louder the more he thought about Ryan. From the curve of his thighs to the subtle dips in his back, every muscle he moved was graceful and languid. And Chad wanted to taste every inch.
He wanted to kiss his neck, to lick and bite all over his abdomen, to tease his thighs and watch him come apart at the seams as he turned to putty in Chad's hands.
He wanted to hear Ryan beg and moan, to make him shut his eyes when he climaxed, to watch those pretty little lashes flutter and those sweet, luscious lips tremble, to make him gasp for breath like he did at the end of a solo and watch his chest heave when they were finished.
He wanted to watch his hips roll the way they did when he was performing and to be the reason Ryan sang until his voice was hoarse.
Watching him dance with other men at bars wasn't enough. No matter what he saw he always wanted more. The routines Ryan put on Instagram already got him too hard to stand, but watching him dance in person was mesmerizing.
Ryan had offered everyone tickets to the county production of The Nutcracker, but only a few of them took the time to actually go. Chad was sure he'd be able to handle himself.
It turns out he was dead wrong. He shouldn't have gone with Troy who, during the sugar plum dance, just had to point out how easily the movements came to Ryan.
There was no way he could have known why Chad was gripping the armrest every time the blonde swung a leg over his head. That didn't make it any less embarrassing, though.
And it didn't draw attention from Chad excusing himself while his best friend marveled at how athletic Ryan was.
He hadn't meant to fantasize about Ryan's stamina and flexibility while he handled his erection in a public bathroom, but it wouldn't end up being the last time. Chad thought about him constantly. He was obsessed with the way Ryan moved.
For weeks he'd denied it and told himself that these desires were platonic. Maybe he was just starstruck, just fascinated by the foreign feeling of Ryan's presence. He was a whole different ball game and Chad was over-eager to run the bases.
But it was just a phase, it would pass.
Sure he got red-faced and dizzy every time Ryan brought him a morning coffee, and sure he hadn't kissed a girl in weeks, and sure he'd stopped needing porn to jerk off, and sure he'd only go out on the weekends when Ryan was invited so he could look at Ryan's ass without having to start a conversation.
But that was all in his head.
It didn't feel real until he started whimpering Ryan's name while he fucked himself. At that point, he had to admit that something was going on.
Chad wanted Ryan desperately and in any possible way he could have him. Daydream after daydream after daydream, it was all Ryan Evans.
Try as he might, he couldn't do anything about it. Anything but give in, that is. Until then he fought to keep his cool, fought to remain friendly and keep his distance.
Now that he knew how he felt, a whole new kind of guilt crept into the pit of his stomach whenever his teammates mouthed off about Ryan. They'd started picking up on how defensive he got. He wasn't sure how much they suspected, but he felt the tension in their distance in the locker room.
A couple of them had called Chad gay for drinking Ryan's morning coffees. It was sounding less and less like a joke every day.
Troy had jokingly called him a fag once after he brought up Ryan's hat collection. He took back his words, but his garbled apology said enough. I didn't mean it like that, I know you're not– I mean you don't– whatever. I'm sorry.
Chad wasn't used to being the odd one out, not like this. He'd always had an easy time with girls, even back in middle school.
As soon as he hit 6 feet he started fooling around. His second girlfriend taught him to kiss with tongue, and he'd lost his virginity by the third.
He knew he was fast, and he wasn't ashamed. He always went for curvy girls, runners with thick thighs, love handles, hip dips, and calves he could sink his teeth into.
Anyone who knew him freshman year knew he wasn't picky. All he needed was a cute bra and an ass he could bounce like a basketball.
He'd never gone for guys before, never been attracted to another guy. And he'd never kissed a boy, not even on a dare. Chad was used to getting what he wanted, and he was definitely used to watching it flounce past him in low-cut shorts.
And yet he was so much more conflicted over the boner he was trying to hide when it was Ryan calling his name from the hood of his car. He'd never been gay before, but he was sure as hell about ready to try.
It was a week before spring break, and the Wildcats were getting ready to party.
Troy and Gabriella were out of town on some couple's retreat, and Jason had somehow managed to get a sophomore girl to give him a few dates, so Zeke had suggested that they all pregame at his frat house and walk to the Greenlight club.
Ryan was putting on a show, as usual, roping several of them into helping him choose an outfit. He had made other plans and was debating going to the club without something unique to wear.
“No I've worn that silk Armani shirt to the greenlight before, I won't be caught dead repeating an outfit,” he drawled to Kelsi.
Chad was pretending not to listen until Ryan said something that piqued his interest.
“I got this cute new beige crop top that I wanna wear, but all I have to go with it are sweatpants so that's out of the question.”
The words crop top rattled around in Chad's brain. His thoughts began to fixate and latch onto an idea, a few words, and some vague imagery: Ryan in a crop top.
He’d only seen Ryan shirtless on Instagram. A crop top was only half a shirt, it was definitely progress. If he wore something low cut he might even get to show off his abs.
Fucking hell.
“Why don't you just wear shorts?” Chad said. Kelsi gave him an odd look, which he returned with a hint of malice.
“We're literally walking there, it's too cold for shorts,” Ryan said as though he'd never worn booty shorts in March before.
“So wear jeans then,” Chad countered, trying his best to ignore the egregious side eye Troy was giving him.
“No, definitely not with that shirt. Especially not if you're gonna be dancing,” said Kelsi. She was never any help.
“Okay, so then sweatpants.” They were starting to draw some attention from other tables in the library; no one was really working much but their corner was making a lot of noise.
“I told you I'm not wearing sweatpants to the club, that's douchey,” Ryan said exasperatedly.
Chad opened his mouth and then closed it again after a moment. He was running out of arguments for the crop top. “I thought you said they were joggers,” he tried. “They're stylish.”
The look Ryan gave him was pleasantly surprised, as though he couldn't believe Chad paid attention to anything he said about clothes. “Alright. Joggers.” He sat back and gave his friend a once over before bringing his attention back to their general audience. “Still. No one's gonna want to dance with me if I'm dressed bummy.”
Whatever guy would pass up a night with Ryan Evans because he was dressed comfortably was a fucking idiot. “Nobody cares about some stuck-up prick who's too hung up on your pants to try to get inside them.”
Ryan narrowed his eyes. “I care.” People were starting to stare at them now, but the blonde’s gaze didn't stray.
“No, you care about the outfit you put together,” said Chad as he struggled to keep his expression even. Everyone at their table kept quiet so as not to upset whatever friction had developed between them.
Ryan crossed his arms. “Do you want me to wear the crop top?” he asked.
Chad worked his jaw. “I want you to actually do what the fuck you want and quit fussing about strangers.” He already knew he'd been caught, so he emphasized the word ‘strangers’ and focused his stare.
For a moment Ryan seemed cross with his answer, making him wonder if he'd been too forward. But then he smirked. “I know that,” he said at length. “But do you want me to wear the crop top?”
At this point, Chad was way too hard to deny it and too far gone to care. “Yeah, actually, I do.”
He said it. Out loud, in front of most of his actual friends, he admitted to wanting to see Ryan in a crop top.
Clearly he'd completely lost it.
He might have won something though. Ryan opened his mouth in a smug, salacious smile. “Alright, then it's settled.” He picked up his phone. “Kels, what base color should I do for my eyes.”
Chad sat back in a daze before continuing to copy Taylor's econ homework, trying to tell himself not to sweat his friends' questioning stares. He had an outfit to plan, after all.