Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/43905.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Underage
  Category:
      F/M
  Fandom:
      High_School_Musical
  Relationship:
      Ryan_Evans/Sharpay_Evans
  Additional Tags:
      Incest
  Stats:
      Published: 2010-01-02 Words: 1713
****** Someone As Good For Me As You ******
by orphan_account
Summary
     Sharpay wants some stress relief after a frustrating day.
Notes
     Originally written for the Tweendom kinkmeme. Prompt: "HSM, Ryan/
     Sharpay having ordinary missionary-style sex but Sharpay is
     unquestionably on TOP. no pegging, no other boys, just incest and as
     close to their canon dynamic as possible"
Ryan knows it's coming from the way Sharpay slams the front door.
Living with Sharpay means developing an acutely sensitive tantrum radar. Today
does not sound good, Ryan thinks, listening to her heels clicking up the marble
stairs to their shared bedroom. He's lying on the bed reading a book on Fosse.
She was meant to be learning new music with Kelsi.
"It's not fair," Sharpay says, pulling open the door to their room and storming
through the pink beaded curtain. "Kelsi said she would work with me, Ryan, she
promised me a solo this year. And then after we'd only gone through the music
once or twice she just handed me a copy and let Troy and that girl come in.
They were hanging around the music room like vultures, Ryan, like they had some
right to be there, it makes me sick."
"Breathe, Shar," Ryan says, not looking up from his book. Even without looking,
he knows Sharpay's eyes are narrowing at him.
"I don't want to," she says, stomping her foot.
"You'll break a heel if you do that again," Ryan says, glancing up at his
sister. "Breathe."
Reluctantly, she closes her eyes and breathes in and out slowly. Her eyes open,
mascara making them wide and pretty.
"Better?" Ryan says.
"A little," she sniffs. She walks over to his bed, hips swaying, and sits down
heavily. He obediently closes his book and sits up next to her, cross-legged.
"I just hate them," she says.
"I know," Ryan says soothingly. "You're better than them, Shar."
"Ryan?" she says, her voice going all coy and sweet. Ryan can't believe she
thinks that'll work on him. It's the voice she uses when she wants something,
and he knows that voice better than absolutely anyone.
"What?" he says.
She walks two fingers across the bedspread to his thigh.
"You know what would really cheer me up?" she says, allowing the tiniest bit of
a pout to creep into her expression.
Ryan hesitates.
"I thought we agreed we were done with that," he says. The experimentation
they'd done when they were younger was one thing; they hadn't known any better.
Their parents had always raised them to be close, so it had only made sense for
Sharpay to go to Ryan when she wanted to know more about how boys worked, and
for Ryan to turn to Sharpay when he had urges he didn't understand. But they're
older now, and Ryan is having trouble justifying it to himself anymore.
"I know," Sharpay says, "but it's been a really bad day. And anyway, it's just
me." She flips her hair and grins at him, the grin that means that she gets
what she wants, and Ryan doesn't want to be turned on but he's starting to be.
He doesn't like this because it makes him feel like his sister is dangerous. He
knows this is going to end with Sharpay getting her way, and that he's going to
want it just as badly by the time she does. He can't stop her.
"Come on," she says, moving her hand slowly up his leg to his hip. She's
leaning closer now, and he can smell her lip gloss and strawberry shampoo.
Ryan tries everything he can not to think about what their parents would say.
"I'll even let you get off first," Sharpay purrs, and Ryan knows that's a lie
because she says it every time and she never does, but he doesn't even care
anymore because her lips are on his and she's easing him down onto the bed.
Kissing Sharpay feels so familiar. Even the way she kisses is so her,
aggressive and bold, opening Ryan's mouth with her tongue and sucking and
biting. He knows he's the only one she kisses that she can't impress with this,
because he was there from the beginning. He was the one she practiced on, the
first few hesitant times, so that if she ever got a boyfriend she'd know what
she was doing. Now she knows what she's doing, and she slips her bare knee
between Ryan's thighs, her hands gripping his shoulders.
He brings his hands up under her shirt, feeling the dip of her lower back. He
knows Sharpay's body almost as well as his own, always has ever since they were
kids and they wrestled each other on the floor. Sharpay always won, because she
fought dirty.
Sharpay makes a soft noise and presses against Ryan, her leg pushing against
his groin. He's completely hard now, and they fit together like they were meant
for this. Sharpay's hands reach up to tangle in his hair and Ryan moves his
hands up her back, slipping his fingers underneath her bra. It's an orange one
with white flowers. He knows because she came into his room this morning and
asked him to help her pick one to wear today. She's always looked amazing in
orange.
She breaks the kiss, dragging her mouth across Ryan's jawline and nuzzling his
neck, which Ryan knows is a signal for him to unhook her bra, because Sharpay
loves this and doesn't like to be kissing him while he's doing it. She likes to
squeeze her eyes shut and breathe against his neck.
Ryan undoes her bra with one hand and slides the straps down her arms. He knows
it's sick, but sometimes he thinks that if Sharpay ever does get a serious
boyfriend, he should really ask Ryan for tips. Ryan could tell him what to do
now, how to smooth his hands over her stomach and move them up to cup her
breasts. He could tell him Sharpay likes this, his fingers roughly tweaking her
nipples until they're hard. He could tell him about taking off her shirt
slowly, fingers light on her sides, and her moans melting into giggles because
she still hasn't decided if this turns her on or tickles.
But he's not sure he could describe what he does to her, pulling her up and
opening his mouth around her breast, licking in the ways that he knows she
wants because he knows the familiar noises she makes when he flicks his tongue
just right. Sharpay is shuddering against him, and he knows that no one else
would be able to make her feel like this, because she wouldn't let anyone else
see her so gone.
Even as he's thinking it, he knows that this is the only time he gets to see
her lose composure. The rest of it is all Sharpay's game, and she's already
taking deep breaths, collecting herself. She sits up, straddling his hips, and
starts unbuttoning his shirt. As she takes it off, he moves his hands to the
outsides of her thighs. Sharpay was awkward and gangly before she was slim, and
he still thinks of her that way sometimes, with her long skinny legs.
Sharpay moves her fingers to his fly, and he closes his eyes so he can feel it
better, her nimble fingers pulling down his pants and boxers. She presses the
palm of her hand against the base of his cock and he can't help it; a soft
whine escapes from his throat. He opens his eyes and she's grinning at him
again, eyes dark with desire. When he breathes in, his breath is shaking.
She trails her fingers lightly, almost absentmindedly, up and down his length,
as she reaches into the nightstand drawer and pulls out a condom. Ryan shivers
as she puts it on—she's always been good at teasing. Now she shifts herself
into position on top of him, and his chest feels tight with anticipation.
Sharpay's gaze on his face is intense and focused. She's looking for his
reaction. Ryan wonders if she's going to make him beg for it, like she
sometimes does, but she just leans down and plants a kiss on the hollow of his
throat. Then she gently takes hold of his cock and guides him into her.
Ryan exhales sharply. Sharpay moves her hips experimentally, and his breath
catches. She puts her hands flat against his chest and thrusts, rolling her
hips as she does. He arches up against her, his moan catching in his throat,
and his fingers dig into her thighs. She quickly settles into a rhythm, her
nails dragging lightly down Ryan's chest, Ryan's breath harsh and ragged. He
moves his hips against hers, and he knows this is what she loves, moving
together like on the stage, Sharpay leading and Ryan responding. She whispers
his name hoarsely and it triggers a surge of heat in him—this is something she
could never replace him with Troy for, this is something that can only happen
between the two of them, in the bedroom they've shared since they were kids.
She looks more gorgeous now than at any other time, her face flushed with
exertion, looking down at him, and he knows that he's completely doomed,
because no matter how wrong this is no one else could ever do this to him.
She works him up into a frenzy, and then just as he's getting close, she stops.
"You promised," he says, panting, but she just smiles.
"I lied," she says.
Ryan doesn't want to stop but Sharpay withdraws, rolling the condom off as she
does. He replaces his cock with his fingers, rubbing and pressing in just the
right places, and watches her eyelids flutter until she finally tenses and her
whole body shudders. The sound she makes is muffled and broken off; even now
she can't let herself lose control.
After she's finished, she jerks Ryan off with long, slow strokes. It doesn't
take him long to come, the sensation spasming through him, his fingers
squeezing tight on her arm, and she sucks one finger deliberately into her
mouth and then kisses him, hot and lingering.
They lie there for a while, Sharpay's cheek on Ryan's chest, their bodies
sticky with sweat, and Ryan wonders why they're like this. What made them into
the kind of messed-up siblings that can't get through two weeks without a
desperate fuck in the bedroom of their parents' house?
Sharpay's eyelashes brush against his skin, and she says, "So look, we should
really practice that song."
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