Chapter Text
“You got an electronic banking system?”
Ray looked up from the couch where he was sitting, unfortunately for him, with his feet tucked up under him and leaning against the side of the arm. The bullet wound was, naturally, taking its time to heal and that meant that sitting upside-down or even throwing himself down on the couch was generally a bad time all round.
He’d been playing Smash Bros. via his DS with Gavin but knew the question was directed at him when he noticed Ryan was looking at him pointedly.
“Uh, why?” Not really thinking of much else beyond the fact that this was the first time Ryan had so much as looked at him in four and a half days- he hadn’t even thought Ryan was still around, to be honest.
The night in the hallway hadn’t happened, as far as Ryan was concerned, and Ray didn’t feel inclined to bring it up again. As long as Ryan avoiding him didn’t impact on his performance, what did it matter.
It didn’t matter. Not a bit. Not to him, hahaha, as if it mattered to Ray what Ryan thought of him.
“’Cause Geoff asked me to ask you,” Ryan said impatiently, hands on the back of the leather sofa Geoff had put in the lounge room.
“S’not what he means, Rye,” Gavin interrupted, but fell silent as his eyes fixed on the screen of his red-and-black device.
Ryan sighed, obviously not wanting to talk to Ray any more than he had to.
“Because we sorted out the cuts, and some of us prefer getting the money electronically so we’re not carrying around a shittonne of money.”
“Oh.” Ray blinked. “Yeah, I guess, I’ll, uh, I’ll go give Geoff my info then?” He made to get up off the couch, left hand clenching as the movement made his shoulder tense and pain ebbed through him before fading as quickly as it came. His wound was definitely healing, slowly.
“You do that,” and Ray missed the short scowl that crossed Ryan’s face, before he left the room.
*-*-*-*
“I don’t think I’ve seen that much money in my account in total,” Ray said later that night over a glass of orange juice. Pulp-free, because that’s all that was in the apartment (“You monster,” Gavin had grimaced at the mere suggestion of drinking orange juice with pulp.)
“Don’t spend it all in one place,” Jack’s lips curled around her pint of beer.
“There’s more where that came from, too.” Geoff smirked- three hundred grand wasn’t much, in the long run. He had a bottle of wine in hand- “It’s fine, there’s still four boxes of wine, what, you really think I went through all that shit just to sell the alcohol?”- and was slowly making his way through it. They were taking the opportunity to relax and enjoy the success of the heist now that the money had been processed.
“Pay some fucking rent and get off my sofa,” Ryan growled, but went ignored once more, none of them paying him so much as a cursory glance.
“Should probably invest it or some shit,” Michael added to the conversation. Everyone stared at him for a bit.
“Never mind.” He added quickly. “Fucking spend it all. Buy a house. Buy a car. Who cares, right?”
“Yolo,” Ray said in a serious tone, and they all groaned in unison, bar Ryan, who bit his lip. It was frustrating- pulling reactions out of the guy was harder than pulling Ray away from his DS.
“Speaking of,” Jack said slowly, only to be interrupted by a loud protest from Geoff. She continued anyway, “We should maybe think about a bigger place. One with more bedrooms and more space for us to work with.”
“What?” Gavin asked sharply, pulling his arm away from where it had been around Geoff’s neck as he sat up further on the leather couch. “Wait, Jack, what- we haven’t talked about this with them, yet! Ryan still-“
“Ryan will get the fuck over himself,” Jack insisted, only to be shot a glare from the man in question. “As will Geoff.” Said boss was now sliding down the couch out of his seat, legs holding him up as he slipped into what had to be the least possible position ever.
“Geoff doesn’t wanna move,” Geoff said plaintively from behind his moustache, and Jack pinned him with an unnoticed glare.
“And now he’s referring to himself in the third person. Awesome. How many bottles is that?”
“We need to think about this seriously, guys,” Ryan interrupted before an argument could break out about Geoff’s alcohol consumption. “You know where I stand on this.”
“Does anyone wanna give us a hint about what the fuck you’re on about?” Michael finally cut in, untangling his hand from Gavin’s newly-mussed locks. “Ray, you don’t know either, right?”
“Huh?”
“For fucks sake, would you put that damn thing down for a fucking minute? Christ,” and Ray only shrugged again at Michael’s suggestion. He shut the device, but the light still blinked occasionally. Still on, then.
“The idea is to have you guys move in with us, now that we’re a crew.” Jack finally informed them, and Ryan ran a hand over his face.
“Oh.”
“Oh,” Ray echoed Michael.
“And the reason it’s a problem is because Ryan has some unsolved issues with you, Ray, and also because Geoff is a whiny bitch and doesn’t wanna move so we can have more space.” Gavin shot daggers at Ryan and Geoff in turn. “Other than that, we’re all on the same page.”
“Providing you want to move in, of course.” Geoff added. He sounded kinda doubtful, to be honest.
Michael looked at Ray, who shrugged.
“I mean, we’re already here all the time, anyway. May as well make it official.”
Gavin whooped, threw himself from the couch and landed painfully against Ray’s knees; Jack patted Michael on the back from where she sat on the back of the sofa while sharing a look with Geoff, and Ryan only groaned.
*-*-*-*
It was only nearing midnight that night when Michael, Geoff and Gavin had retired to the master bedroom. None of those remaining could really complain- the playful banter and wrestling between Gavin and Michael had quickly descended into flirting, making out on the floor and hands sliding underneath shirts and waistbands before the boss dragged them away.
(Quite literally. He just scooped Gavin off the floor and threw him over his shoulder like a sack of flour, grabbed Michael by the hand, and pulled them, laughing and muttering quietly, to their room.) Jack, too, begged out of the rest of Mario Party after being gloriously kicked in the ass by Ray, and headed to her own room only half an hour later.
It was about quarter past one when Ryan’s sleep-deprived and slowly-sobering mind realised that they were the only two left in the room, Ray on Ryan’s sofa and Ryan still in the armchair that matched the leather couch; the length of which kept them apart. The time it took for his brain the implications of this was around the same length of time it took for his Kirby to be thrown off the stage by Peach, the Super Smash Bros. post-game screen coming up as Ray smugly dropped the Wii remote on the coffee table.
Ryan dropped his own a second later, and stood, taking in the awkward silence and turning to leave.
Ray almost let him.
“Hang on a sec,” he said, before Ryan could make off down the hallway.
Ryan stopped, but didn’t turn.
“What?”
“Are you.. uh,” and god, Ray definitely didn’t know how to phrase this, because he didn’t really have the capacity to care or feel sympathy often, let alone empathy. “Are you like, actually okay with me moving in? Like, I know you’re not- you’re not happy,“ He hastily added, as Ryan turned just enough to see him from the corner of his eye, “but… I don’t really wanna step on your toes, or..”
He trailed off at a low laugh from Ryan, the guy turning away again and putting his hand over his face.
“You ‘don’t wanna step on toes’?” The gent muttered with fake humour. “You’ve been trying to get on my last nerve since you fucking showed up and sat on my couch. Don’t even start,” and now he was facing Ray fully, holding a hand up in the air to cut off what he was sure would be Ray’s protests to the contrary. “Just, don’t.”
He stood for a minute and Ray fiddled with the sleeve of his purple hoodie, wanting to pull out his DS and return to the false security he felt with his face behind the console. But he really, really didn’t want to be a red flag to a bull right now.
Ryan debated for a moment, hand still in the air to stop Ray from talking as he processed.
Sighing, he chose to sit on the lounge, near Ray, but still not on the same piece of furniture.
“I think it’s about time we talk about some stuff.”
“Aw, shit, are you breaking up with me?” Ray snarked, only to receive a glare from Ryan.
“Let’s start with why you’re here, shall we?”
Ray froze for a moment- that had thrown him for a loop. Ryan hastened to explain.
“You walk in here, being allowed as a favour to Gavin, and act like you own the place.” He held up his hand again to cut Ray from talking- and the kid was getting really sick of it, but he let it slide and held back his objections. “You say you want a job. You get a job, and you do okay.” Again, the hand is there- Ray thought he’d done quite well. “But you don’t tell any of us what you did before, how you got good with guns, and why you want this job so much. It can’t just be the money, can it- you can earn more than that going solo, and there are risks with teams that don’t exist alone..”
Ryan put his hand on his chin, the illusion of thinking fooling nobody.
“So I think it’s about time you told us.”
Ryan didn’t stop him this time, and Ray took his chance.
And ran off with it.
“First of all, fuck you, I don’t owe you, personally, anything. What came before is between me and Geoff, you wanna know? You ask him. He can decide if you find out or not.” And Ryan was silent in shock at both the words, and the volume with which they were said - holy shit. The kid actually has spoken to Geoff. “And secondly, you are definitely not what you’re cracked up to be. You know, you actually have crews running scared? The Mad King, the Vagabond... they’re fucking terrified of you, and you’re a pussy.” Ryan was turning kinda red, but Ray wasn’t finished.
“People out there won’t fuck with the Fake AH, because they know you’re a part of it. They think you’re a psychopath, and you are, a bit, aren’t you, Ryan, because you like killing, sometimes, the thrill you get.”
“Don’t assume anything about me!” Ryan interrupted angrily, but Ray threw his hand up- and for some reason, Ryan shut up.
Damn. That hand thing actually works. That’s cool.
“Then don’t you go assuming anything about me! Maybe I wanted to be part of a crew no-one dared mess with, maybe I saw my chance when I saved Gavin’s ass three months back accidentally and he practically invited me to join the crew!”
“Then why didn’t you just fucking come out and say you wanted to join, instead of fucking us around for a couple of weeks? Why did you keep making innuendos and, shit, I don’t know, why were you flirting with me all the goddamn time?” Ryan shouted, and they’d be lucky if they didn’t wake anyone up at this point.
“Why did you get so hostile over a bloody couch?! Why did you hate me the second I walked in that door and sat down, why did you confuse the hell out of me by flirting back, why did you kiss me?!” Ray was standing now, arms aggressively emphasizing his frustration and his words. Ryan stood, too, towering over him but not making him back down in the slightest.
“Because I don’t know what you want from me!” And did he say “me”? He meant “us”. Of course. “I don’t know what your fucking intentions are, and you’re confusing and frustrating and drive me up the fucking wall half the time, and you still won’t tell me what you want!”
“I just wanted to feel safe!!” Ray roared, and down the hallway Ryan heard a door click open quietly, in the silence that followed.
Could silence hurt your ears? Because the absence of sound in the apartment was actually painful, the quiet whirr of the refrigerator and the faint sounds of bedsprings echoing.
“I just,” and the kid looked like a kid again, hopeless, frustrated, tearing at his hair with one hand while the other clenched against his waist, “They don’t fuck with the Fake. And I thought if I made myself useful here, they wouldn’t fuck with me, either. ‘Cause they do, y’know?” And it was said with urgent despair, like he really needed Ryan to get this. “Anyone under them, gets fucked- but it’s income, right, odd jobs here and there, a boss to take a cut but still enough food to eat, lackeys to chase you down when you’re not providing for the crew and remind you why you exist..” He trailed off, and Ryan let it sink in.
He felt an odd sense of wanting to comfort the kid, because yeah, he knew, only too well. He’d been lucky, meeting Geoff at a time that it was useful, before he could be damaged too far by solitude in a ‘career’ like this one.
And it made sense, now. Gavin randomly having a friend he hadn’t mentioned before that he trusted implicitly. Ray’s skills with a sniper rifle. His practically unquestioned induction to the crew. His trust in Ryan… and that’s where he got stuck.
“So, you thought that the best way of staying safe, was to join up with a murderous psychopath,” Ryan mulled it over aloud, and Ray flinched.
“That wasn’t…” The kid mumbled, but Ryan cut him off coldly.
“Yeah, that’s what you meant. It’s what you did, right?”
“It was different. You weren’t what I expected,” Ray said quickly, and Ryan raised an eyebrow, waiting patiently for an explanation. He sat down and folded his arms, perched on the edge of the couch. Ray paced for a bit.
“You.. there’s all these rumours about you, and everyone’s fucking terrified of running against you, right? But then I show up, and you’re angry about a couch.”
Ryan blinked.
“And then it was the cheerios,” and Ray couldn’t hold back a huff of laughter at the notion, “and I listened to your music and used your shower, and it was like, you were so angry, it was kind of frightening actually, but so fucking stupid, like, who even gets angry about cereal?” And now the kid was laughing outright, sitting on his- no, Ryan’s- couch with his face in his hands, as though he could hide his expressions that way.
“And you flirted,” he recalled, “you flirted back- you kissed me the other day in the hallway.” Ryan flinched back, but Ray leaned forward a little and pulled his hands away from his face, staring intently at the blond now. “And I just… on the heist, you were a killing machine, but you’re so different in real life. Imagine if they all knew the guy they were so scared of listens to Journey in the shower. And that he gets territorial over his weapons and shower and his couch. It’s kinda cute, actually, definitely funny, but almost adorable. Like a puppy wearing a sweater, but the puppy turns out to be like a shark or something.”
Ryan was crimson now, but waited for Ray to finish what he was saying.
“And yeah. I guess you just… weren’t scary. You’re fucking terrifying half the time, don’t get me wrong, it’s really hot, to be honest…” he smiled slightly after that, but it was replaced quickly by a look of contemplation.
“You make me feel safe.” Ray trailed off, as though he realised halfway through he didn’t really have a point to make now.
Silence reigned.
“You done?” Ryan said curtly, waiting for Ray to decide when to shut up. He received a nod.
“Good.”
It was two simple motions, a hand reaching out to grab Ray around the wrist, and then the hand being retracted again, pulling the kid to the floor, where Ryan could trap him between his knees. It took a moment for Ryan to assess whether this was what they both wanted this time, but saw nothing but a surprised eagerness in Ray’s eyes behind the glasses, and went for it.
The second time around was much better.
Ray wasn’t experiencing this around a haze this time, and could put his full attention on the taste of coffee on Ryan’s tongue, the softness of his lips, the feel of a calloused hand cupping the side of his face to hold him there- as though he would pull away if given the chance. He could count Ryan’s teeth with his tongue, if he felt inclined, could slip his hands into Ryan’s hair and free it from the loose ponytail only to carefully tug his hands through the long, blonde strands. As it was, he was content to hold a hand against Ryan’s hip, if only to feel him twitch beneath his fingers, the other hand gripping the collar of the taller man’s jacket to keep him still.
What was as sweet at the outset as the way Ryan drank his coffee quickly deteriorated, mere minutes passing as Ray tugged violently at Ryan’s jacket, as the latter slid hands down Ray’s back and to behind his thighs and lifted him, using his strength to throw the lad on the ratted sofa and follow. Ray sat with his back against the armrest and Ryan in front of him, one leg on the carpeted floor and one between both of Ryan’s, breathing him in and touching whatever expanse he could reach of the man above him.
Air wasn’t necessary, was it? They could live forever like this.
Apparently not, if the way Ryan’s muscles tensed against Ray after a minute, and the latter pulled away slowly to open his eyes and meet their gazes.
He heard it, then, the distraction- slight footsteps padding back down the hallway. Probably Jack, judging by the gait and the practiced carefulness in where she placed her steps. Content that she was gone, Ray turned back to face Ryan, who had his eyes shut.
“No, don’t start thinking now,” Ray bemoaned, feeling Ryan pull away, and not just in a physical sense. “Jack won’t care. Come on...” Ryan didn’t pull away further as Ray’s grip on his jacket tightened, though he could probably easily pull himself out of this situation. Ryan looked down, not at Ray but at the hand on his jacket, and bit his lip lightly.
“I…” And Ray stilled his hand from where it had been slowly dragging up and down against Ryan’s side, letting his full attention return to what Ryan was saying, “I haven’t, ah.”
“You a virgin?” Ray asked quietly, with a noticeable trace of humour in his tone- it disappeared as Ryan huffed.
“No, moron. I just haven’t done this in.. well, a long time.”
“What, sex? Because, y’know, that doesn’t even have to be in the cards, right now, y’know, like I made all those jokes about blowjobs and stuff, but I di-“
“No, although, well, yeah, it’s been a while, sure, but I haven’t... trusted someone like this. In a really long time. Not like this.”
Don’t ever give me reason not to trust you the way I do right now.
“Neither have I,” Ray said, after a long moment. “That’s okay, though. I trust you.”
It wasn’t that simple.
Was it?
Ryan furrowed his brow, letting his eyes slip shut again even as he felt Ray sigh beneath him. He thought back to four- five days ago now, to the healing wound in Ray’s shoulder, the way he’d refused to leave knowing that Ryan wasn’t going to make it alive without him, refused to give up and save his own life.
“Don’t think we won’t be talking about that,” he muttered aloud, as though the kid had been privy to his own thoughts.
“Huh?”
“You. Not leaving and saving my life.”
“Oh.” Ray shrugged, the movement rocking Ryan for a moment. “Well, y’know. That’s part and parcel of the job.”
“No, it isn’t,” Ryan snapped suddenly, voice still quiet in the late night- or was it early morning, now? “I don’t want you ever doing that again, alright? Not for me, not for anyone. You wanna feel safe, you stop fucking around and getting shot, and I’ll take care of the rest.”
Ray giggled, and really, the kid had a terrible sense of appropriate reactions and when they should happen.
“Alright. I promise not to get shot and save your ass ever again. Especially if you’re gonna be this ungrateful about it,” he snorted, jolting Ryan with the movement.
“I mean it, Ray. I need to know…”
“What?”
“If I’m gonna get invested in this,” and Ryan would say he’s pretty fucking invested, judging by the way his hand’s been slowly sliding up underneath Ray’s hoodie (though still above the shirt, because this is serious talking time), “I need to know you’re safe.”
“Well, I will be,” Ray insisted.
“How can you possibly know that?” Ryan asked incredulously.
“Simple. You’ve got my back. And, like it or not, I’ve got yours, now, too.”
It appeared Ray was done talking by this point, and Ryan didn’t really have any objections any more, so he let himself be pulled down to claim the younger man’s lips again.
The serious talk had done its best to kill the mood, Ray had to give it that, but to be honest there was nothing about a strong, gorgeous man above him that wasn’t arousing, plus the hand that had been crawling up his back was a lot easier to pay attention to now that their mouths had stopped fighting and started cooperating. It wasn’t a warm night, but Ryan seemed to radiate heat as he picked up the pace a little, Ray encouraging him every step of the way.
The hand that had been stroking Ryan’s hip was now urgently pulling at the edge of the leather jacket the guy always seemed to be wearing, his other hand fumbling for the fasteners so he could pull it off. Ryan wasn’t making it easier, now, pushing Ray against the couch and pinning him like prey, the pair of them a tangle of limbs and clothes and tongues. Ryan pulled away only briefly to rip the zipper on his jacket down, but left it open and on, revealing the stupid cat t-shirt he was wearing below. Ray surged upwards at the opportunity it gave him as the collar revealed the ‘v’ of Ryan’s neck.
He kissed the skin softly and Ryan panted, possibly for air but more likely for more. Ray wasn’t sure how far Ryan dipped into enjoying violence, and didn’t want to push boundaries, but it seemed like it would be reasonable for him to scrape his teeth against the hollow of Ryan’s collarbone.
The gasp he received was more than worth it, and the muttered reiteration of his name led Ray to believe that maybe he’d stumbled onto something here.
“Ray,” Ryan sighed, hands bracketing Ray as they rested on the arm of the couch- probably not a comfortable position for him, but one that allowed for him to get undressed faster. “Ray, don’t fuck around, Ray, come on…”
Ray pulled away entirely, as far back as he could to take in the dilation of Ryan’s pupils, the flush crawling along the gent’s neck.
“This is definitely okay, yeah?” Ray asked contemplatively. He was all for it, although having a first time on a couch wasn’t really the best idea around- but moving seemed like too much effort.
“Fuck, Ray, I’m okay as long as you are,” Ryan said above him, and that was all he needed. He pushed upwards with both hands on the centre of Ryan’s chest, shoving him backwards a little. Ray shuddered slightly with the action as Ryan brushed against his inner thighs, but put it aside for now in favour of finally getting his partner shirtless, the jacket slipping to the floor and the shirt ending up somewhere out of sight and mind.
The pale yet well-defined torso that greeted him was littered with various scars, and Ray promised himself that he’d study them all some time later if the opportunity arose again, but for now, it was more important to keep getting Ryan naked. Taking a few seconds, he pulled his glasses away from his face and Ryan took them, putting them on the coffee table- he could still see well enough without them, and it wasn’t worth accidentally damaging them for no reason.
Ryan inhaled sharply again as Ray returned to his previous task, mapping his way across the bare skin with his teeth. He could feel Ryan’s pulse as he skirted it, smiling against the expanse of his neck that was clear of any marks.
Not for much longer.
Ryan shuddered and rocked forwards as Ray bit down carefully, sucking a mark into the skin that he hoped wouldn’t be covered by the jacket. Ray’s breath hitched in response at the knee that rolled against his crotch, far too calculated to be accidental.
And that’s when Ryan decided it was his turn.
He drew away from Ray’s hands and sat up a little further, Ray looking like he was about to protest, as though he thought Ryan was pulling away for good. That problem was fixed, however, when Ryan dragged Ray with him, hands under his ass to scoot him forwards so he was lying fully on the couch, Ryan straddling his thighs. Ryan pulled him up a little to divest him- without much complaint, other than about the coolness of the room- of his own hoodie and shirt.
Then those coffee-tainted lips were on his again, but it was so much better this time, because he had the weight of Ryan fully above him, and if he rolled his hips enough he could feel the friction of his own jeans against his cock, but also the similar bulge effecting Ryan as much as it was affecting him.
Ryan moaned into the kiss, but pulled away after mere seconds- Ray wanted to complain, but found he couldn’t when those lips were tracing a line down from his cheek to his chest. He bucked up slowly, revelling in the heady sensations assailing him.
“Ray,” Ryan said above him, and he had to shake his head a little to focus back on what was being said.
“Huh?”
“How many men did you take out this week?”
“What?” And there was no way he could think, not when there was a cooling trail of where Ryan’s mouth had burned along his body, when hands, bigger and stronger than his, held him to the ragged fabric of the old sofa, when those lips now toyed across his abdomen teasingly.
“How many? Tell me.”
“U-uh..” and god it was hard to think when all he could concentrate on was what Ryan’s mouth was doing, not what it was saying. “I.. around twenty or thirty a-all up?”
“Mmh,” Ryan hummed against his skin, Ray’s stomach muscles twitching below his touch. “I think I owe you something, then.”
“What do you- oh, God.” Hands toyed at the button and zipper of his jeans, Ray not having realised his own wrists weren’t pinned anymore. He lifted his hips and let Ryan pull away his jeans, ignoring the pain that he felt from his shoulder and let his hands come up to tug at Ryan’s ponytail. His jeans landed somewhere even further from his mind than their shirts and jackets.
“Fuck. Oh, fuck, you’re evil.”
Ryan only shot him a sly grin from where he now kneeled, arms over Ray’s thighs to keep him from bucking up and fingers toying at the hem of Ray’s boxer briefs. The curses were elicited as the older male mouthed at Ray through the material of his shorts, the fabric soaked and short-circuiting Ray’s nerve endings as it cooled in the crisp morning air, right over the head of his cock.
“R-Ryan, fucki-“ And that’s all the order he needed to give, as the fingers danced lower on his hips, taking his boxers with them.
Ryan grinned up at him from between his knees and quite honestly, the sight alone probably could have lasted Ray a year or two for memory material to jack off to, but that was nothing compared to the sensation of Ryan leaning down and kissing the tip, before taking him into his mouth.
Ryan was by no means well-versed in oral sex, having only had a few college experiences to remember by, but Ray was so turned on that it didn’t really take much. A simple rhythm was established. Ryan’s hair fell around his face messily as he worked, one hand wrapped around Ray and stroking gently in counterpoint to the bobbing movement he was making with his mouth. Ray’s hands tangled in those soft strands, not pushing or pulling or forcing Ryan to do anything, just enjoying the sensation as much as he was enjoying the blowjob.
Seeing that Ray was in control enough of his body to not buck up, Ryan let his hands wander, tracing the backs of the younger man’s thighs and drawing mindless patterns into the soft skin as he worked him over, gasps getting louder and increasing in pitch until Ray was saying an endless litany of senseless words. Ryan could hear the occasional utterance of his name thrown in.
He could tell Ray was getting close as the words turned into a chorus, hips stuttering up and down and the hands that usually wielded a sniper rifle tightening in Ryan’s hair.
“Please, pl- Ryan, fuck, I.. please…”
Ryan said nothing, but his eyes dilated further, determination in his expression as he let Ray slide into his mouth as far as he could without gagging. He sped up, too, until Ray was a mess, gasping and exhaling loudly as he breathed Ryan’s name, until finally he bucked involuntarily. Ryan pulled away and gave a final few strokes, smiling softly at Ray as the younger lad came with a low moan, painting his own stomach.
Ray took a few deep breaths, Ryan feeling his body pulse in time with his racing heartbeat. He let himself roll to the side of the couch against the back of it, but pulled the zipper to his jeans down. He wasn’t going to force the kid to help him out, but there was no way he was going to be able to walk to the bathroom to get himself off after that.
Hands batted his own away as he took himself in hand, his jeans and underwear pushed down just far enough to let himself loose. Frowning at Ray, he took in the sight of the young man, looking utterly exhausted but mostly content.
“Let me,” Ray insisted, taking him in hand somewhat gingerly. Ryan groaned- it felt good, amazing, even, but it wasn’t going to be enough, the lad was tired and not focused enough. Instead of saying so, though, he just let his hand fall to cover Ray’s, and they worked together, Ryan guiding him in regards to speed and the tightness of his hand until he came undone, shuddering and breathless, lips against Ray’s. Once the shaking had stopped and his heart had stopped racing, Ryan got up, despite Ray’s protest, and grabbed a washcloth from the bathroom, cleaning them both quickly and efficiently. He collected their clothes and threw them in the hamper in his room, except for the pair of shorts he’d pulled back on.
As he got back to the living room he saw Ray had done the same, and was dozing lightly on the sofa. He should pick him up, really, and take him into his bedroom, but to be honest he didn’t have the motivation or the energy and he looked too comfortable on the crappy sofa- so Ryan just joined him.
“We really should go to bed,” he muttered as Ray shifted, still slightly awake, to cuddle up against him.
“Mm,” was all he got in response.
*-*-*-*
If you’d asked Ryan to explain what happened within the first three seconds of him waking up, before he could properly process it, he’d say that a large bird had somehow gotten into the penthouse, squawked, and then run on its abnormally large feet down the hallway towards Geoff’s room.
Five seconds in and Ryan’s eyes shot open, taking in the room. He’d slept on the sofa, that was obvious- his back was killing him, and this as obviously the living room.
Next, he took in the warm body snuggled half on top of him, and the fact that while he could feel Ray’s skin against his own, there was something over them- a blanket.
Third came the fact that Jack was smirking at him over a cup of whatever she was drinking this morning where she sat at the kitchen table, and fourth was that the loud and annoying bird was, of course, Gavin, who reappeared, a sleepy-looking Michael and a grumpy Geoff in tow. He was chattering away annoyingly, and neither looked very impressed, though Ryan saw both sets of eyes widen in surprise as they took in the scene.
“Uh,” Ryan said intelligently, realising exactly what they’d all walked in to see. Ray shifted against him, but didn’t wake yet. “I can explain?”
“Nope,” Geoff interrupted loudly, striding straight past the pair on the couch and heading for the kitchen- no, not the kitchen. The new wine rack, that proudly boasted an extra twenty bottles than the last one had- “I don’t want to know. I don’t want to think about it. I don’t want to hear about it.” He grabbed the first bottle he saw, opened it, and Jack didn’t even try to stop him.
“Oh.” Was all Ryan had to say. Although, judging from Gavin and Michael’s expressions, it looked as though he would have a very captive audience if he ever chose to share every detail of the previous night.
It was awkward for a few moments as Geoff drained a third of the bottle in one go, set it on the table, and began opening cupboards in search of breakfast foods.
“Though, Ryan?” he heard from behind the pantry door as Geoff hunted for bread.
“Yeah?” he responded tentatively, hand snaking around Ray’s waist beneath the blanket that he assumed Jack had thrown over them.
The pantry door slammed shut, Geoff staring him down from across the room, and Ryan gulped.
“The couch has to go.”