Chapter Text
The kid had to go.
‘Kid’ being used in the loosest possible sense of the term, due to the current occupant of his couch being at an age where he could obtain less-than-legal substances without question.
Then again, this was Los Santos. They started young here.
The… kid, yeah, there really was no better way to describe him, was sprawled in an ungainly fashion against the hideous brown-and-red checker patterned couch, upside down with one foot in the air over the back and one slung over the armrest. What the position must be doing to his brain cells, Ryan didn’t know, but he figured it couldn’t be doing much worse than the constant smoking and life in front of the portable gaming device affixed about two inches from his glasses.
And hey, he wasn’t the kind of guy who would try to stop a kid getting jacked up- hell, he’d been there once or twice and wasn’t afraid to take a hit or two on the odd occasion, usually when alcohol wasn’t doing it for him and sleep was an elusive concept. That wasn’t the problem.
The real problem was, well, it was Ryan’s couch.
Sort of.
It was his in the way that he’d had it in his old flat before moving into an apartment with Geoff, Jack and Gavin, but he never really used it anymore- the couch was more of a way to piss off his roommates to no end.
Again with the loose terms- ‘roommate’. They weren’t roommates, they were a fucking gang. Or they would be once their capacity increased to more than four people. And their apartment was more of a penthouse, with four bedrooms- three currently occupied- that overlooked the cityscape featuring floor-to-ceiling windows, just to add to that mob-boss feeling. It was one of the first things Jack had pointed out when they looked at the place, not that she was ever around much, flying from place to place doing deals and building up her reputation.
But the couch. It was an eyesore, but Ryan refused to let anyone take it away. It was ridiculous, but it was one of Ryan’s conditions- he kept the couch, and the Fake AH kept a psychotic murderer. He’d owned it since college, and had some of his best memories on that couch- like hitting 100,000 gamerscore after thirteen months of hard work.
Oh, yeah, and losing his virginity. His first time having sex was on that couch, a few years back.
Priorities.
But as little as he actually used the couch anymore, he couldn’t help but be mildly frustrated by the interloper who had taken up residence on said sofa for the past two and a half weeks.
It had taken a good few hours of persuading on Gavin’s part to even get Geoff to think about putting up the scrawny kid for a while, especially when he was trying to run heists and operations from the spare room that Gavin had apparently offered without consulting the boss first.
The kid had settled that quickly, though, once Geoff finally relented enough to at least consider Gavin’s ‘request’. (Ryan didn’t want to know Gavin’s methods of persuasion, be it promising more or withholding sex, but he assumed it was one or the other. Plus, the ridiculous puppy eyes and begging- “Pleeeeeeeeease Geoff, c’mon, it’ll only be a week or two, he has nowhere to go-” until Geoff finally turned to Ryan with a raised eyebrow, asking for his opinion.
Ryan recalls having shrugged. He hadn’t cared. As long as this guy didn’t want to get involved with what they did, it wasn’t an issue.
He cared a little now.)
The Puerto-Rican- short, slight and surprisingly not dotted with acne- had waltzed in, nothing more than a heavy-duty satchel and a neon-pink case to his name, plonked himself down on the couch, and hadn’t moved, sans the occasional disappearance around three in the morning. Ryan heard him go some nights, but as long as he wasn’t causing shit he figured it wasn’t his business.
And hey, it wasn’t really his business if the guy wanted to get stoned and spend all day lounging around playing on a DS. Hell, that was the life, wasn’t it? Kudos to the guy if he could afford to do it, but still…
He’d have to get that couch dry-cleaned. Or he probably won’t stop Geoff and Gavin from trying to burn it the next time they offer.
“You just gonna stand there and look at me all day or what, man?” Brown eyes didn’t leave the screen, but his voice carried clearly.
It took a moment for Ryan to process that his entire internal dialogue had taken place in the span of about ten minutes, with his eyes fixed on the intruder to his- their- apartment. Rather than dignifying the question with more of a response than an exhalation of air, he turned and marched back out of the open-plan main room.
It was just touching on a quarter past five in the morning, dawn’s light blocked from completely entering his bathroom by fogged glass. It was early, he hadn’t slept, and he was sick of getting out of bed after a night of lying wide awake and finding that fucking minor on his couch.
He started up the shower and pulled his hair out of its usual tied-back style, rubbing his tired eyes and pulling his hand away to observe the black smudges transferred in the action. Huffing, he shrugged off his sleepwear and stepped under the spray.
One thing about having an expensive apartment- it meant having really fucking nice showers. Geoff had pulled out all the stops in regards to user comfort, paying Gavin’s friend Michael (who occasionally designed or supplied a weapon or two for their bigger stuff, but never really joined in the fun) to install speakers that wired to the latest iFruit gadget. Throwing on some old classic rock was one way to unwind and de-stress in the shower, and God knew he needed it.
There was another heist in the works, Gavin and Geoff planning and searching for more hired guns and scoping out locations- Ryan wasn’t into all that as much as he was blowing the shit outta stuff while actually on a mission, so he let them shut themselves away for a while. He assumed Jack was probably working behind the scenes too, she was hard to get in contact with these days. But there was definitely something coming, he needed to be sleeping and getting prepared- and here he was, getting all worked up about a fucking kid on his couch. He didn’t even have a real reason for hating the kid, or the fact that he was sleeping on Ryan's couch.
Sighing, rinsing products out of his hair and deeming himself presentable enough, he shut the water off and left the bathroom, mind occupied with thoughts of the heist and the kid and what the hell they were gonna do if they couldn’t find anyone who fit well with the group dynamic.
Drying off and dressing in his room, he headed back out into the lounge, only to find Gavin had woken up within the time it had taken him to shower, staring blearily over the kid’s shoulder. Realistically Ryan knew they were around the same age (and probably mentally as well as physically) but Gavin seemed older, somehow. Maybe it was because Ryan was used to overhearing him being fucked by Geoff on a regular basis- it was a little hard for someone to retain their innocent and youthful veneer after that.
Ryan just shook his head as he walked past the two towards the kitchen, unnoticed- they were both utterly engrossed in the game Ryan recognised as a part of the Kirby franchise.
That was, until he opened the pantry to find an empty box where he’d expected his cereal to be.
Now, Ryan wasn’t one to eat breakfast often, usually getting by on one box of cereal in two to three weeks, but this box had only been bought in a shopping run not four days ago.
“Who the fuck ate my Cheerios?”
Both boys on the couch jumped, Ryan mildly surprised at the high kid’s reaction time, not surprised at all by Gavin’s overreaction or the resounding thud as the British kid launched himself off the couch and onto the floor.
“Uh, it was Ray,” Gavin began, but Ryan waved him aside- there was no point listening, because he knew it wasn’t Gavin. Gavin hated Cheerios with a passion- all cereals, in fact, due to the fact that if they weren’t consumed in the first thirty seconds of being poured into a bowl, the cereal got soggy, and “mingy”.
“Fuck this. I’m going to go get myself some more cereal,” Ryan growled, beyond annoyed now. The kid – Ray, he could remember now- was getting on his last nerve now. First he takes up his couch, then eats all his cereal- and the worst thing was that Ryan knew he was being petty, but he couldn’t help himself, he just got frustrated over the little and irritating things.
He made sure to let the door slam behind him, but could hear the usual squawks Gavin made when he was being punched, and could hear distinctly hear the kid- RAY- as he stalked down the hallway, muttering “Thanks for throwing me under the bus, asshole.”
There was no way Geoff would have slept through all of that, so he’d have that to contend with as well when he got home, too. Ryan dragged his trip to the supermarket out for as long as he could, throwing multiple boxes of Cheerios into the basket. He told himself he wouldn’t let Ray eat any this time, but he couldn’t afford to take that risk.
He noted the lack of mobile phone in his pocket, but was glad he’d had the common sense to at least grab his wallet and keys before storming out of the penthouse. Besides, it was kind of nice, Ryan reflected as he paid for his goods using a self-service machine, because it meant that he couldn’t receive any “could you grab me some ‘x’ while you’re out” messages or voicemails.
*-*-*-*
Arms laden with shopping, Ryan trudged out of the elevator on the top floor, dropping a bag or two to fumble with his keys at the door. Their security was good enough for them to not really worry about locking the door, but a lifetime habit was hard to break. He’d almost got the key turned when the lock tumbled of its own volition and Gavin threw the door open.
“Thanks for the help, Gavin,” Ryan commented offhandedly as he assumed Gavin would help him pick up the groceries from the floor, but was left standing with one eyebrow raised as the British kid just stood in the doorway.
“Uh…?” Gavin flung a glance over his shoulder quickly, before Ryan added, impatiently, “Can I come in or what?” It was pretty weird, having to ask to enter his own apartment..
“Nah.”
What?
“What?”
“Uh, nah,” Gavin ran a hand through his messy hair, before coming out into the hallway and forcing Ryan back a couple of steps, attempting to shut the door behind him.
“What the fuck? Gavin, I just went and bought all this shit, and now I’m not allowed back in? What the fuck is going on in there?” Of course, even laden with shopping Ryan had the sheer size and tenacity to overpower the kid and push past him into the apartment. Gavin squawked and flapped his arms and kicked his feet out, only to tumble to the floor over the threshold.
Nothing looked out of the ordinary, his couch was still there (buried under a pile of blankets and pillows, but there nonetheless) and Geoff was awake, moodily staring at the coffeemaker like it would magically produce caffeine without him doing anything.
Nothing had really changed, except Ray was missing.
Once Gavin admitted defeat and shut his mouth, Ryan realised he could hear something-music, playing somewhere deep within the apartment.
And then, the most awful, terrible and off-key sound he’d ever had the misfortune to hear- also, possible the reason why Geoff was awake so early- emitted from the same direction.
“Living just to fiiind emotion!”
Ryan froze, Gavin sighed and Geoff let his head thunk to the counter, bent almost in half.
“Hiding somewhere in the niiiiiiiight~” And the kid's lung capacity was almost impressive- how he managed it, Ryan couldn’t fathom, but he held the note. Just a shame it was nearly an octave higher than in the song.
The song. That as far as Ryan knew, only existed on his phone, because Geoff only had (quote) “good music” and Gavin saved all the room on his phone for camera footage instead of music like a normal person.
“You fuck!”
“Doooon’t, stop, belieee-veehng,” was all that answered, and Ryan had half a mind to march in there and pull the kid out by his ears.
“So the kid sits on my couch, eats my food, and then because for some reason he can’t possibly use your shower, he takes my phone and uses mine?” He competes over the sound of Journey lyrics being screamed, too loud, too off-key, and entirely too Ray.
Now the thing is, Ryan knows how irrational he seems, but he’s pretty touchy about other people invading his space. Hell, it was bad enough the kid had taken over his couch, but now he was taking over his bathroom, too?
Geoff just glares at him, as if to ask why he was making so much noise, bags under his narrowed eyes.
Gavin speaks up from the leather couch, where he’d slunk after Ryan had pushed past him. “In my defence, I not only told Ray not to use your shower, but I also told you not to come in.” He squealed and ducked as Ryan chucked the open box of teabags off the counter at him.
Ryan had had enough. It was barely pushing seven-thirty and his resilience was thin on the ground, along with his patience. Dumping the groceries on the counter in the kitchen, he reached around to turn on the kitchen tap and waited for the water to get hot.
The thing about the penthouse was that yes, it was a penthouse, and it was full of beautiful furniture (if you didn’t include the couch) and modern décor, but it was still an apartment. An apartment in downtown Los Santos. So, predictably, a minute later there was a screech from the bathroom, followed shortly by the kid walking out wrapped in a towel- Ryan’s fucking towel- dripping from the hair and pouting, steam blurring the glasses he’d slipped on his still-wet face.
“Dude, the fuck was that?”
The hallway entrance was fairly close to the kitchen, and it took less than three of Ryan’s strides to have the kid pushed up against the wall by the throat. Ray released a huff of air in surprise so Ryan was sure not to let him suffocate, but kept him against the wall, letting some of the rage he was feeling build to the surface. The kid had one hand on the towel, one on top of Ryan’s, probably to pry him off. Behind him, Gavin had leapt off the back of the couch and run over, though still too afraid to get too close to Ryan when he was in one of his moods. Even Geoff had barked out a word of surprise, but stood back and let Ryan go.
“I don’t know what you think you’re playing at, or who you’re messing with,” the bigger of the two growled, the sound coming from deep within his throat, his voice quiet and dangerous, “but you need to realise very quickly that you’re toying with more than you can handle here. There’s a reason people fear the Fake AH crew, even though we’re only team of four.” Brown eyes widened, but then narrowed, and Ryan nearly dropped the kid in surprise at the challenge he saw rising in Ray’s expression. Finally Ray settled on a smug grin.
“I think I could handle that,” and on the last word Ryan struggled not to flush as he realised Ray had his knee situated against the crotch of Ryan’s jeans. A coy smile flittered onto the kid’s face as he realised Ryan hadn’t meant that at all, but now that he was considering it, he had a distinct advantage- distraction.
“I’m invited here, and I’ll be here until I’m asked politely by your boss to leave,” it was Ray’s turn to murmur quietly, and he shot a brief, reassuring smile over Ryan’s shoulder to Gavin, whose look of concern faded as he took a step back. “And between you and me, once he sees my value, that may be a long time coming.” And there was nothing more that Ryan hated than a kid that was cocky, so confident that he would come out of this encounter alive. He glared, taking in the slight part of Ray’s lips, the lines under his eyes, the water dripping from his hair down his neckline to his waist, mind racing. The kid was after a job? If Geoff knew that then why was the kid still here without a formal job offer? Was he trying to prove himself before asking- and if he was, he was definitely not going the right way about it. Unless he’d approached Geoff for a job already and Ramsey wanted to see how he’d work with the rest of the crew. Or maybe he was just messing with Ray.
It wasn’t an issue for the present time. His grip was about to fail- as strong as he was, he couldn’t spend all day holding cocksure teens two inches above the ground by the neck, so he took a step back, and Ray tried to conceal how relieved he felt.
“Fine, enjoy your stay,” was all Ryan had to say, before it was his turn to smirk. “I will be taking this back, though,” and his tone and volume was back to normal, loud enough to be heard by the other occupants of the room.
Ray had barely a moment to think before Ryan ripped the towel out of his hand and from around his waist, struggling not to laugh as he strode back into the kitchen towards the laundry to wash, leaving the kid standing there, momentarily flustered as Gavin practically collapsed on the floor with laughter. Even Geoff managed a few guffaws as Ray arched his back, turned, and strode back down the hallway in the direction of Ryan’s ensuite for his clothes.
With her perfect sense of timing, Jack walked through the open door, surveying the scene- Gavin laughing in a heap on the floor, Geoff standing by the coffee maker as though waiting for coffee (which he obviously wasn’t because it wasn’t even switched on), and though Jack had been out working for the past week and a half and wanted nothing more to go and crash on her bed, she couldn’t help but ask.
“What the fuck happened while I was gone? Obviously not work,” she commented, their heads turning to face her. Seconds later, Gavin was upon her, launching himself off the floor and wrapping her in a bear hug.
“Oh, you know,” Geoff yawned, shrugging with the same movement. “Shenanigans.”