Title: Game On

Rating: M

Summary: "Baby," Gabriella smirked. "You couldn't handle me if you tried." In a seductive power play between Troy and Gabriella, who will come out on top? Troy/Gabriella. Oneshot.

Disclaimer: No.

Word Count: 6162

A/N: My Troyella muse has been insane as of late. This fic took a while to write, mostly because I started out with some very scattered ideas and had to piece them together, bit by bit. If it feels a little bit unpolished and less than fluid, that's why. It's over the top with the attractiveness thing, but it's meant to be that way. It was a ton of fun to write though, and I hope you enjoy. Basically? Cocky Troy and vixen Gabriella equals a little lust, a lot of witty banter, and a hell of a lot of sexing. Please leave a review if you're going to add it to your favorites or alerts list, or if you just want to offer some general feedback; reviews mean a lot to me, and I love receiving them and hearing what you guys think. Thanks and enjoy!

"Excuse me."

Gabriella Montez craned her neck, attempting to locate the voice calling her attention as she dropped her bags in her seat, the loud whirring noises making it difficult to hear. She shifted uncomfortably in the small space of the aisle between the seats of the airplane, only to make eye contact with possibly the most ridiculously attractive man she had ever laid eyes upon. She completely lost her train of thought as she gazed at him.

His eyes pierced through her, and as sharp blue held warm brown, Gabriella's head spun.

"I think you're in my seat."

He gave her a sweet, apologetic smile. Gabriella continued to stare at him, taking an embarrassing amount of time to realize that he expected an actual response that wasn't composed of slowed blinking and shallow breathing.

"Um, sorry?" she replied in a semi-normal voice, playing for time to organize her thoughts. She raked her eyes over his body (hopefully in a somewhat discreet manner), letting out an involuntary moan of appreciation in the back of her throat at the sight. Her eyes trailed from his breathtaking eyes to his defined, muscular body, clad in a classic crisp, white dress shirt with a skinny charcoal tie, complete with his sleeves rolled up to reveal tanned skin masking strong, chorded muscle.

Well good and holy god. This man was so gorgeous it really, really needed to be deemed illegal.

"13B? I'm…pretty sure that's my seat." His eyes exuded gentleness and absolute sex at the same time. His hair fell down into his eyes, and he gave his head a little flick to resituate it. "I mean, it's on my ticket and I. Um, I mean. I wouldn't fit very well into a window seat."

Well. That was true. His height just added to the pull of sheer attraction that Gabriella felt, and the fact that he towered over her even when she was wearing in her four inch Christian Louboutin stilettos was just…kind of absurd.

"Um," Gabriella fumbled for her ticket, finally locating it within the depths of her bag. "Mine says 13B as well."

"Oh," he said, somewhat surprised, as if he had regarded Gabriella as completely vacuous because of her looks. "Well, I mean—"

"Miss, is there a problem here?"

Gabriella turned to meet the fake, slightly sinister smile of the flight attendant who was giving her a clear move-out-of-my-way-or-somebody-will-get-hurt look.

"Well, yeah, actually," the man whose seat Gabriella had apparently stolen began. The flight attendant turned to him, demeanor changing completely in a shockingly rapid fashion. Gone were the bared teeth, replaced with a simpering smile whose design hopefully failed to charm anyone with half a brain.

Gabriella rolled her eyes to herself. Flight attendant to two-cent whore in under 3 seconds. I wonder if she puts that on her résumé.

"What seems to be the issue, Mr.…Bolton?" the flight attendant leaned closer to him, reading off his name from his boarding pass and letting her hand trail suggestively (and incredibly unprofessionally, Gabriella noticed with a slight twinge of annoyance) down the front of his shirt.

"I'm supposed to be in seat 13B, and—" he trailed off on a surprised squeak as the flight attendant pressed even closer, blinking furiously, eyelashes fluttering, attempting to place a long leg in between his own. Passengers surrounding them shifted uncomfortably in their seats, trying desperately not to blush in embarrassment due to her futile efforts.

"Well we'll just see what we can't do about that," the flight attendant whispered, pulling his boarding pass from his hand slowly and shooting Gabriella a filthy look.

"That's – that's great," he responded, voice pitched a little higher than its natural tone. "Um, thanks."

"Oh, it's not a problem," the stewardess tittered, fluttering about him. "You just sit tight and I'll be right back." Striding off, the flight attendant flipped a superior smile over her shoulder, sauntering away from them.

"Wow," Gabriella said, raising an eyebrow but laughing all the same. "She really enjoyed…discovering your, um. Problem."

He groaned, throwing his head back.

"She…god. Well at the very least I hope she fixes the problem with our seats," he said, sending Gabriella a crooked smile that made her thoughts stutter and crash into one another.

"I'm sorry, we've been standing here talking and I haven't even introduced myself. I'm Troy Bolton." Troy extended his hand, and Gabriella shook it with as much firmness as she could muster in his presence. It was rough and warm, partially calloused, and Gabriella shivered.

"Gabriella Montez," she responded, taking her hand back before she could come off as really creepy.

"Listen," he said, leaning down so that they were eye-level and causing Gabriella's heart to skip a beat. "I know that we just met and all, but…I mean. Desperate times call for desperate measures. And, you…you saw how um, eager that flight attendant was, right?"

"Yeah," Gabriella snorted without a moment's pause, cracking a small smile when he chucked a little.

"Could you…do me a favor?" his eyes searched hers, hoping that he wasn't crossing one of those womanly-pride-and-indignation lines.

Her response came a little slower this time, cautious.

"Like…what?"

"I mean. Could you just pretend to…I don't know. Help me out? I'm not interested in her. At all. And I mean, I don't want to be mean about it—"

"I have no idea what you're talking about, Troy," she said, and as his name exited her lips she felt them tingle. Her arms slipped easily around his waist, fingers lacing together behind his back. "You're taken. You'd better not be interested."

The heat between them took an almost physical form; the air felt heavier, thicker, and the world surrounding them faded away as Gabriella gazed up into Troy's eyes, drowning in the stunning cobalt blue that she was becoming oh-so familiar with.

"I'm not interested at all," he echoed, head dipping down. His lips trailed a line of fire across her jaw, his rough, warm hands pressing into the small of her back until she was clasped so tightly against him that her body was bowed. His clean scent penetrated the air around her as she inhaled, committing the smell to memory.

"It's just – we're just pretending," Gabriella's voice was raw. "Right?" She was torn between being turned on by the fact that they were in a public place and being weirded out by the whole situation. They had just met, after all –

But as Troy's eyes met hers once more, she forgot all of her carefully constructed reasoning behind why she shouldn't be experiencing the best kiss of her life at the moment.

"How comfortable are you with absolute authenticity?" he questioned, weaving a hand gently into the wavy mess tumbling down her back.

"Um. I—"

And in that second, Troy had read something in Gabriella's eyes that he apparently didn't like. His hands dropped from her body as if she'd just delivered a sharp slap to his face, and his actions made her wince. He had seen her hesitance in a moment's glimpse, and had taken it completely the wrong way.

"You're clearly uncomfortable with the situation, I didn't – I didn't think - well I clearly misinterpreted. I'm sorry," he apologized, suddenly all business and withdrawing himself from her grasp.

"No, I just…it's been a – a while since anything like this has—" Gabriella protested, resisting the urge to fling herself back into his arms.

Why was this happening, and why now? Gabriella was always known for being level-headed, logical, strategic. She always thought ahead and planned things out, and suddenly she was caught in a whirlwind of emotions that she hadn't experienced for what felt like years, and she couldn't fucking think straight with his scent intoxicating her.

"You don't have to explain it any further, I understand," his cool response came straightforwardly as those blue eyes dimmed, causing Gabriella more pain than it should have.

"I'm sorry about all of this," Troy continued. "I—"

"Oh sweetie, it's not your fault," the voice of the flight attendant came over her shoulder, sugary and false. She pushed past Gabriella, resting her hand on Troy's arm. "Mr. Bolton, I've spoken to our captain and I'm so sorry about the confusion and distress we've caused. We've managed to locate a free seat in first class, so we upgraded your ticket. Your little…friend, here," she continued, eyeing Gabriella distastefully, "can just take 13B."

"That's…fine, I guess," Gabriella muttered, avoiding Troy's expression. "I'll just go."

"That's – no – I mean, it's not like it was Gabriella's fault, I can't take the first class seat if she doesn't get one, it's just not fair," Troy said, staring at the flight attendant, whose expression had suddenly turned sour.

Was this guy bipolar? One second he was steamy and suggestive, the next formal, and suddenly he was defensive and protective again.

Protective?

Gabriella could live with that.

"Well I don't know that we could find another first class ticket, Mr. Bolton, these things don't just grow on trees," the flight attendant responded in an uncharacteristically stiff, reserved tone. "My captain gave me, er, specific instructions to—"

"I really can't," Troy said firmly, glancing at Gabriella out of the corner of his eye as if to catch a glimpse of her response. "If you could find Miss Montez here another first class seat, then we can discuss this further, but—"

"Oh all right," huffed the flight attendant, dropping her sulky expression and replacing it with a highly irritated one. "Follow me, then."

Gabriella gathered her bags, smiling slightly to herself as she ducked her head to look at the floor. Troy thought that he had overstepped some invisible line, violated her somehow – and he clearly had it bad for her. Both were things that she could definitely work to her advantage.

"Here you are, Miss Montez," the flight attendant sneered, gesturing harshly to their newly upgraded seats. "Enjoy your flight."

"Oh, thank you, I will," Gabriella replied sweetly, flashing her a bright smile. After stowing her bags into the overhead storage area, she settled down into the window seat, closely followed by Troy. His close proximity sent Gabriella's heart fluttering spastically against her ribcage, and she turned her head to the side, blushing.

Even though he had pulled away after misreading her pause as reluctance, Gabriella was pretty damn sure that he was attracted to her. And she wasn't exactly confused about her own feelings.

If Troy wanted to play this game, Gabriella would gladly participate.

And she was determined to win.

"So, Gabriella," Troy began casually, forcing Gabriella to jerk away from her thoughts and look up at him. He cast her a look that caused a shiver to run up her spine; he was definitely messing with her. He was going to get what was coming to him, but good. "Are you traveling to New Mexico for business or pleasure? What awaits you there?"

"Mmm, wouldn't you like to know?" she smirked, crossing her legs and purposely brushing the heel of her stiletto against his leg, eliciting a partially suppressed groan from him.

"I thought you—"

"You thought wrong," she replied, cutting him off. "You mistook my hesitance for something else, Mr. Bolton. It's too bad that stewardess doesn't know that you're taken, I'm pretty sure that she'll be back to hit on you in a few minutes."

He blinked, momentarily shocked by her sudden boldness.

"Actually," she continued, shrugging. "I'm pretty sure she'd be back anyway, even if she did know."

"Taken, am I?" he finally managed to say.

"Definitely." Another small smirk played on the edges of her lips.

"Ten bucks says that she'll be back in five minutes," Gabriella said, running her tongue along her bottom lip, watching as his eyes tracked her action.

"Actually, ten bucks says she's headed this way right…now." Troy groaned, slumping a little in his seat as the flight attendant gave him an obviously suggestive wink and a little wave as she walked towards him. "Doesn't she have anything better to do? I swear she just walked away."

"Mr. Bolton," the flight attendant simpered, leaning over his armrest so that her suddenly visible cleavage was conveniently located a foot from his face. "Is there anything I can do for you? How are you enjoying your new seating arrangement?"

"Um, it's fine, thanks," Troy said, eyeing Gabriella nervously.

"Help," he hissed out of the corner of his mouth.

"Well if there's anything I can do to make your flight more…comfortable, let me know," the flight attendant smiled, flashing teeth that had been graced by too many Crest whitestrips.

"Troy won't be in need of your…how should I put this? Your services today, Brittany," Gabriella responded, reading the flight attendant's name off of her pin. "It might surprise you to find out that he'll be otherwise occupied." She reached over and threaded her fingers through the soft hair at the base of Troy's neck and pulled him into a kiss that was deep, open-mouthed from the start, domineering. He moaned a response, grazing one hand up her thigh and the other around her waist.

The splutters of Brittany came out loudly and indignantly, but that only pushed Gabriella further. She'd never really appreciated PDA in couples before, but this was kind of…fun.

That and Troy was a ridiculously good kisser. One of the two. Or possibly both.

Brittany stalked off as Gabriella and Troy came up for air, breathing harsh and lips swollen.

"So you're one of those girls," he murmured, chuckling breathlessly.

"Let's be clear, Mr. Bolton." Suddenly Gabriella felt as if she wasn't in control of her own body anymore; her response to Troy was so sudden and physically overwhelming, so unexpectedly consuming that it was as if she was caught in a overpowering tidal wave, sweeping her under and completely dominating her.

"Please, Miss Montez," he followed her example of formality, a corner of his mouth tugging up as he suppressed a grin. "Do tell."

"I'm not one for subtlety when I see something I want," Gabriella informed him. What? Since when? "It typically goes like this: I see something I want, and I take it."

What in the world had possessed her to say that? Gabriella wasn't that kind of girl – she kept relationships professional, refused the many failed attempts at flirting from her coworkers, and kept her slate clean. She didn't do one night stands – she couldn't. She always got too emotionally involved, something that had hurt her time and time again. And yet here she was, boldly hitting on some stranger that she had only known for a slew of minutes, just because he was attractive.

Really, really attractive.

Gabriella's thought process was interrupted as Troy blinked, as if surprised by her once more confident approach himself. Her personality had clearly come off exactly the way it usually did – in a meek, shy, quiet manner, regardless of the show she had put on for the flight attendant.

And despite herself, that was all about to change.

"Really, Miss Montez?" Troy smirked slowly, drawn to her like none other before, gliding his smooth hand once more up the leg nestled next to his. "And might I be the object of your desire at this point in time?"

"Are you offering yourself as a prospect?" she replied coolly, even as his hand traced a line of fire on her skin.

"Baby, I'll be whatever you want me to be," he shot back, unwilling to capitulate in their game of snappy retorts.

"Baby," she smirked. "You couldn't handle me if you tried."

"We'll see about that," he breathed, leaning closer. As his tongue ghosted along the outer edge of her ear, Gabriella felt herself losing control of the situation – it was time to switch things up.

"Game on," she answered his challenge with confidence.

Gabriella stood abruptly, smoothing her skirt tantalizingly down her legs and brushing past him in an obviously deliberate manner as she moved towards the aisle.

"Ma'am, we're about to clear for take-off," the flight attendant, who had seemingly been watching the scene between Troy and Gabriella unfold with an expression that suggested that she had just swallowed a particularly sour lemon, sneered at Gabriella. "You need to return to your seat."

"I won't be long," Gabriella said dismissively. "I'm just going to the bathroom."

She strode to the small bathroom at the end of the first class area, satisfied and exhilarated. She'd never exerted any sort of control over her previous boyfriends, and the power play just then had left her wanting more.

Hands smoothly opening the bathroom door, Gabriella stepped inside, only to turn around to find –

"Troy, what are you doing in here?"

"You don't just leave a man hanging like that, Gabriella." With a sharp click, Troy pushed his way inside the tiny bathroom and snapped the door shut. He moved swiftly, pinning Gabriella's wrists to the wall behind her head and pressing the lengths of their bodies together.

"You, Miss Montez," he whispered, eyes burning into hers. "Are such a fucking tease."

"A tease? Mr. Bolton, I'm offended," Gabriella whispered, a seductive smile twisting her lips. "I think that implies that I don't intend to follow through, and I must assure you, that's not quite the case."

"Prove it," he demanded, pressing a leg securely between hers and drawing out a moan from the back of her throat.

Without another thought, Gabriella ripped her wrists from his grasp and pulled his face to hers, fusing their lips together in a fiery, heated battle that she refused to lose. His mouth opened willingly to hers, and she slid her hands into his soft hair, gripping and pulling and moaning as she hooked her leg around his waist; her stiletto was digging into the back of his thigh, and in any other situation with any other girl it have been painful and annoying but instead it was the hottest fucking thing anyone had ever done to him ever. Her breathing caught as he gripped her forcefully, arms holding their bodies against each other so tightly she felt as if they had been permanently molded together.

"Troy," Gabriella breathed, pulling back so that their lips were barely touching. Troy whimpered, honest to god whimpered, which he was definitely going to deny the fuck out of later. Eyes still closed, he tried to press forward again, seeking the feeling of her lips against his once more.

"Troy," she repeated, a little louder. His eyes opened reluctantly, and she splayed her fingers against his chest, gently holding him back.

"What?" he gritted out against his teeth, trying not to let on just exactly how much he wanted her right then. He wasn't used to this burning, raw hunger – he was the one women always lusted after, he was used to being infamously unattainable. And in less than an hour, the woman before him had turned what had always been true in his world upside down.

"I don't fuck around."

His eyes snapped up to meet hers, focused, molten blue.

"I don't fuck around," Gabriella reiterated, softly this time. "I don't fuck random guys because I feel like it, I don't do one-night stands, I don't – I just. I don't."

"Okay," Troy murmured.

And that was it. One word and Gabriella knew he understood, knew he felt the same – and yet here they were, in the bathroom of an airplane about to screw each other's brains out if they let themselves and somehow that was completely…okay.

"Okay," she spoke mutedly as well, echoing his last words. She pulled him to her once more – gently, a sweet caress completely the opposite of her motions earlier. His lips found hers, meeting tentatively, before escalating into a scorching kiss, all teeth and lips and tongue and fuck all if he wasn't the best damn kisser in the world. Gabriella clutched his broad shoulders with her small hands, struggling to keep up as his kiss turned into a game of domination and control. His tongue dueled fiercely with hers, and Gabriella Montez, coy seductress of so many unsuspecting and willing men, was definitely losing the battle.

Troy Bolton may be the hottest man on the face of the planet, but that was just unacceptable in her book.

She broke away, gliding a hand down into his pants and smirking as her action elicited a sort of strangled yelp from him.

"Tell me you have something," she breathed into his ear, fingers lightly grazing him, driving him abso-fucking-lutely batshit crazy.

"Back pocket," he murmured, voice pitched dirty-low in her ear. She moaned her approval as he grew unbelievably hard under her touch, heat spreading through her like wildfire. Her free hand grasped the foil packet in his pocket, taking care to let her fingers linger a little longer than was necessary.

"Would you like to do the honors?" he smirked impishly as her breath caught.

Gabriella's eyes narrowed as she contemplated this prospect, and how to best use it to her advantage.

"Mr. Bolton," she responded finally, gripping the top of the packet with her fingers and slowly ripping it open by grasping a corner between her teeth and tugging, smile widening as his eyes turned into a dark, stormy, lusty blue. "I would love to."

"You drive me crazy," he growled, so low that she wasn't really sure if he'd actually spoken the words or if she had imagined them. His grip on her hips was so tight that she was positive she'd have bruises afterwards – a thought that left a pleasant taste in her mouth, a thought that she enjoyed.

Gabriella's lips curled upwards in a devilish smile as she offered the slick latex to him, eyes somehow maintaining a picture-perfect wide and innocent gleam.

"Try not to get too…excited too soon. Wouldn't want me to think you're enjoying this," she murmured as she slid her small, warm hand over him from tip to base, encasing him completely. He threw his head back against the door of the bathroom, trying to stifle his moan, his perfect teeth snagging on his bottom lip, cheeks flushed.

Gabriella breathed erratically, chest heaving as she drank in the sight of this stunning man completely under her control.

"Come on then, Bolton," she teased, hooking a finger under her skirt, dragging her underwear down her legs and tossing it over her shoulder without a moment's pause. She rose up onto her toes and pressed backwards until she lounged atop the sink, legs crossed and eyes glittering, hair draped across her shoulders and hands resting on the edges of the sink. "Let's see if you live up to the reputation I'm sure you possess."

Troy gazed down at her heatedly, steps brief as he closed the distance between them. Gabriella felt her control starting to slip as he slanted his lips over hers, his hands trapping her as they placed themselves on either side of her head, pressing against the mirror. Her legs parted as they created a trap of their own, locking around his hips and pulling him in so that they were pressed together just right, and it had been too long—

"Fuck!"

Her whimper echoed throughout the bathroom as his hand found a way between their bodies. Two long fingers pressed inside of her, hooking and curling and thrusting until Gabriella's head collided with the mirror. She squirmed against him, trying to create some more of that delicious friction.

"Harder," she moaned, and he breathed a soft response, fingers clutching her waist even tighter.

"Come on," he whispered into her ear, increasing his rhythm. "I want to see it. See you."

His words pushed Gabriella over the edge and she muffled her throaty release, sinking her teeth into the muscled flesh of his shoulder, causing him to hiss.

Eyes clenched shut, hair cascading down her back in shimmering, midnight waves – no doubt about it, Gabriella Montez was officially the fucking sexiest thing that Troy had ever seen.

Troy removed his fingers, leaning back with as a satisfied expression crossed his features. He began to clean them off slowly, laving them with his tongue.

"Baby," he continued their earlier banter, taunting. "I think I'm handling you just fine."

"We'll see about that," Gabriella managed, eyes still dilated and lips swollen.

And before Troy could fully comprehend the implications of that sentence, Gabriella had lifted herself up and positioned him at her entrance, grasping him firmly. With a moan of satisfaction, she dropped her weight, completely sheathing him inside of her.

"Shit, Gabriella, give a man a warning before you—"

"Keep up, or we might have a problem here," Gabriella teased, and he was just about to form a snappy retort when she moved, clenching him in all the right places and grasping his shoulders, anchoring herself over his body. His eyes fluttered shut, losing himself in the sensation when -

"Troy, fucking move."

The demand caused his entire body to tense, and his eyes blinked open, staring at her. She'd been so sweet, probably a bit of a pushover when he first met her – and now lo and behold, a dominatrix had taken her place.

"Or what?" He smiled innocently up at her, taking a hold of her hips and refusing to let either of them move. A whimper escaped her throat before she growled into his ear.

"I swear to god, if you don't do something, soon—"

"You'll do what, exactly?"

As Gabriella opened her mouth to respond, he slammed upwards into her, causing her reply to catch in her throat.

"Ngh," she grunted, trying to move once more but having her attempts foiled by his strong hands on her hips.

"I'm sorry, didn't catch that."

"Fuck you," she moaned, raking her nails across his shoulders.

"Go ahead," he smirked. "Nothing's stopping you."

"You don't want to play this game with me, Bolton," Gabriella challenged, regaining some confidence in the situation. "I'm going to come out on top."

"God, I hope so," he muttered to himself.

Her response was unexpected – a flurry of motions, as Gabriella tightened herself around him.

"Fuck," he bit out in surprise. "Where the fuck did you learn to do that?"

Gabriella moved her hands across his face, brushing across his lips and settling clasped together behind his neck, twirling strands of his hair between her fingers.

"Come on," she urged. "We don't have a lot of time. Make it worth my while, Bolton."

"I will," he promised. Troy backed her into the bathroom door, slamming her back against it as she moaned at the viciousness of his action. Burying his face in her neck, he pulled back and slammed forward again, thrusting roughly as he felt her nearing her second release.

"Troy," she moaned, and the sound of her crying his name made him snarl into her throat. His hips pounded forward, fast, unrelenting. She came hard, gripping him tightly and tossing her head, hair whipping through the air. Her breathing came harshly, cheeks coloring and skin emitting a soft, golden glow.

"Again," he demanded, deepening the angle and making his thrusts slower, harder.

"What?" she said in surprise, whimpering as he gave a particularly hard thrust. "Troy, I—"

"Do it again," he hissed, desperate to imprint her face, her smell, her sound into his memory. "For me."

Gabriella gasped as he leaned forward, nipping at the sensitive tendons on her neck, soothing the sting with his tongue. His thrusts were coming harder than ever, so fiercely that she felt her back scrape against the door, his length probing farther into her body with each one. His breathing stuttered as he rode her with an animalistic, almost violent possession burning in his eyes. She gave back as good as she got, meeting his hips thrust for thrust and clawing at his back, making her mark.

Disbelievingly, Gabriella felt her body tightening for the third time, overwhelmed by her attraction and his force.

"Troy, I'm—"

"I know," he breathed.

With a rush, the two of them moaned their releases, breathing picking up as they clung to each other, bodies molded together as soft curves fitted against sleek muscle.

Pulling back a few inches, Gabriella gazed at Troy, searching into the cerulean blue eyes that held her captive. She pressed her lips against his, kissing him gently. He responded just as softly, his tongue curling around hers as he slowly unhooked her legs from his back, setting her upright again.

As if with an unspoken decision, Troy and Gabriella separated themselves from each other, each cleaning up, tightening their appearances. Gabriella's hands smoothed down her skirt, flattening the wrinkles and adjusting the material around her legs as Troy pulled himself together, fixing his tie and eyeing Gabriella's underwear that was hanging off of the mirror.

Smirking, he tugged it town, twirling the sheer, lacy material around his fingers.

"I believe this is yours," he said, dangling it above her head, mocking her.

Gabriella strained to reach it, cheeks flushed and tiny hand uselessly gripping nothing but air.

"Troy!" she hissed as he swiftly tucked it into his pocket.

He smiled, pressing a soft kiss to her cheek.

"You'll have to earn them back from me," he informed her.

She was about to remove that smirk from his face, just to prove that she could, when –

"Is everything all right in there?"

Gabriella cursed colorfully under her breath as the sound of Brittany's voice grated through her ears once more.

For the first time since she'd met him, Troy looked a little panicked. And embarrassed.

And Gabriella? Was so going to use that to her advantage.

Before Troy could stop her, Gabriella gripped the door handle and pulled it open, cocking a hip and letting her hand rest on the doorframe; complete with her swollen lips and tousled hair, she was a picture of pure satisfaction, one that only fantastic sex could produce.

"Everything in here is just fine," she said sweetly, relishing the trashy flight attendant's round eyes and dropped jaw. "Mr. Bolton here was just—"

"Showing Miss Montez back to her seat," he interrupted firmly, turning his head into her hair and blushing a bit at their current situation as he simultaneously placed an arm around her waist and all but towed her back to their seats. Gabriella laughed as they sat back down, attracting a lot of snickers and slightly inappropriate lustful gazes – they were back to where they'd started.

"Don't tell me you're shy, Bolton." A slim, tanned thigh slid over his own, crossing delicately as she rested her chin in the hand of the arm currently occupying the armrest between them.

"Jesus Christ, Gabriella," he sputtered as she spoke into his ear, tongue leaving a trail of fire across his heated skin. "You're – you're fucking insatiable, it's been five minutes—"

"Wearing you out?" she taunted, even as he moaned a response, stirring once more under her touch.

"We're going to have to finish this some other time," he hissed as a group of flight attendants made their way down the aisle, passing out drinks and small packets of food.

"I'll hold you to that."

Gabriella's laughter came to a stop as he turned towards her, suddenly serious, blue eyes burning into hers.

"Promise?" he asked, delivering his question with a soft kiss, his large, calloused hand finding her slim one as he connected them, tangling their fingers together.

"I promise."

A/N: WHOO. Lame, cheesy ending, and sex in an airplane bathroom of all places. The part of my brain that deals with logic clearly said to hell with this when I was writing this fic, and went out to lunch. Also stay tuned for more fic coming up. I've got some ideas for stories with actual chapters, not just oneshots (surprise surprise), but I dunno if anyone will want to read. Hopefully the answer is yes!

Longest fic ever, so I'm proud, and excited to hear what you guys have to say. Click on the green review button in the box below please, I appreciate reviews a lot. :D