Title: Pouring

Author: ciononeme

Rating: PG-13

Pairing: Ryan/Sharpay (UST, unrequited incest)

Summary: "...a dark-eyed glance that would look just like desire."

xxxx

Sharpay was sleeping sideways in the chair, one long leg resting on the arm, the other drawn up to her chest. Her favorite -- and secret -- comfort blanket was drawn over her haphazardly and Ryan had trouble suppressing a grin.

If the dorks at school only knew that his sister had a 'blankie' -- she'd never live it down.

But he wasn't about to tell on her. Instead, he drew the square of pink cotton up closer around her shoulders, tucking it in under her arms. She murmured something and smiled in her sleep, turning her cheek against the blanket.

The house was quiet. Mother was at yoga -- or was it flower arranging today? Ryan could never remember. Dad was away on business and the servants ... well, they were doing whatever servants did. Servant'y things.

It was raining outside, hard sheets of water sluicing against the bay windows of the mansion's front room. Ryan settled into a sofa that sat next to Sharpay's chair and watched the rain fall -- an easy, relaxed sort of boredom settling in.

He didn't mind the downtime. If truth be told his sister's demanding personal schedule exhausted him sometimes, not that he'd ever tell her. It was his ... pleasure ... to follow her. Besides, how hard was it being her shadow?

It had been his lot since the day they were conceived, wasn't it?

Chuckling ruefully at the realization, he glanced over at her again, a warm affection welling. Her long blond hair had fallen over one cheek and she was curled up so tightly under the blanket, she reminded him of a kitten, happily enjoying its snuggly comforts.

Ryan secretly liked cats better than dogs. He'd always wanted one but deferred to Sharpay's love of toy pooches. Cats were independent, had discriminating taste in companions and groomed themselves within an inch of their nine lives -- not unlike Sharpay.

Cats had wild tempers when provoked. Their soft fur bristled, their sheathed claws coming out with lightning speed. They made enemies for life, but once their love was given, it lasted forever.

Maybe that's why Ryan liked them. For the same reason he loved Sharpay as passionately as he did. Her love was a rare gift, one to treasure.

Eventually, Sharpay stirred, opening one sleepy eye. "Is it still raining?"

"Yep." Ryan leaned his head back against the sofa and smiled at her.

She uncurled and rose from the chair, stretching out with catlike grace before flopping down next to Ryan, laying her head in his lap. "I hate the rain," she grumbled, before closing her eyes and drifting off to sleep again.

"It's not that bad," he whispered, stroking her long hair away from her forehead. He closed his eyes and let Sharpay's scent surround him. She smelled like the peaches and cream soap she used and the chocolate brownie she'd snuck for lunch when she thought no one was looking.

His fingers wound unconsciously through her hair, twirling the ends over and around his hand. So soft and a hot feeling, something not exactly fraternal edged through his gut as Ryan tried to shake it off.

Your hormones just don't know the difference, he tried to convince himself. Again.

A lie, but one Ryan preferred to live with. It was better than the alternative, anyway. He wasn't going to throw away her love ... her trust ... for anything as crude as desire. She deserved better than that.

Her hair slipped over his knuckles in silky waves, a feeling so sensual it made his stomach twist, so he quickly moved his fingers up to her scalp, massaging it nervously. Ryan swallowed hard, especially when Sharpay began to making pleased little noises -- purring almost -- her cheek rubbing against his thigh.

Trembling, Ryan hurriedly pulled his hand away from her, as if touching her burned him. She deserves more...better...and nothing is good enough for Sharpay.

She stopped moving, thank God and Ryan found himself breathless, as he'd forgotten to breathe. His mouth was cotton dry and he was staring at the ceiling hardly noticing when she woke up, reaching up to touch his neck, laughing when he jumped.

"You're as nervous as a cat," she giggled, sitting up and squirming into the crook of Ryan's arm.

"I thought you were asleep." He focused on the windows, where the rain continued to fall. "So what do you want to do today?"

She shrugged lazily. "I dunno." A pause. "This is good."

This. Whatever this was, he thought, sighing inwardly. "We could rehearse," he offered half-heartedly. "There's this new move I wanted to try out."

"Meh," she responded, leaning her head on his shoulder, cuddling closer until they were entwined so tightly, they looked conjoined. "I hate when it rains like this. I don't feel like doing anything ... except eat." She blinked suddenly, as if aware of what she just said. "You know, like, salads and stuff."

Ryan laughed aloud. "Sprinkled with brownies."

"I don't eat brownies," Sharpay growled, pinching him. "Right?"

"Oh, never," he said, shaking his head solemnly. "I meant rice cakes."

"Shut up," she shot back but not without affection. She wrinkled her nose at the still-falling rain. "Maybe we can watch a movie. But we'd have to get up for that, wouldn't we?"

"Kinda." Ryan glanced around the living area, the one room in the house that his mother had declared a 'TV-free' zone ever since he could remember. They actually had a theater room, one he and Sharpay used for parties and to impress the dorks at their school, but most of the time they watched movies in the bedroom, either his or hers, lying side by side on the bed, popcorn bowl sitting between them.

Sometimes their hands would touch as they blindly reached inside of it and those were yet more times Ryan didn't want to think too closely about. About how easy it would be to roll over and shove the bowl away and have her long body squirming underneath his, to kiss and worship, to see her look of surprise melt into something hotter ... a dark-eyed glance that would look just like desire.

Ryan bit his lower lip hard, trying to concentrate on the pain of that instead. "I don't think I want to watch a movie," he rasped. "Okay?"

"Okay," she replied, not noticing his distress. Looking sleepy yet again, she pulled the blanket up more closely around her, then looked in askance at Ryan. "You're shivering. Are you cold?"

"Yeah," he lied, the flush on his skin anything but chilled.

"Aw, poor baby," she murmured, flipping half the blanket over his chest. "Is that better?"

"Much."

"Good," she said with satisfaction, closing her eyes and falling asleep with enviable ease.

Ryan was still, but couldn't sleep. His mind was like the rain, so many thoughts slipping through the synapses so fast they melted into one another until they were nothing but a single blur.

I love you, Sharpay, they sang and he listened sadly, as Sharpay's light breathing played beneath them, in perfect harmony.

It was then he decided he hated rainy days too.

xxxx

end

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