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Gavin woke up feeling like shit, and not at all where he should've been. Instead of laying in the bed draped over his boys, he was zip-tied to a chair in a dark room that smelled disgustingly of feces. His head hurt like a bitch and his wrists and ankles were not comfortable in their restraints.
Bloody hell, he thought, why do they always go after me?
The Brit looked around the room, not being able to tell anything about it, being that it was dark as shit. He groaned internally. Today was supposed to be lazy day, just hanging around the house with his boyfriends, playing video games. But no, the universe had to come in and fuck him hard in the ass once again. Geoff was gonna be pissed.
The door opened with a metallic creek, and in walked the skinniest man Gavin had ever seen. All sharp angles and bones, beady eyes, and greasy, slicked back hair. Gavin almost gagged at the sight of his nasty hair. He reminded Gavin much of a rat, in a way.
"I see you're awake, Free." Greasy Hair's voice was cold and professional, one of those kidnappers. Gavin had dealt with many, many different kidnappers during his time with the Fake AH crew, some tried to intimidate him, some just beat him senseless until his boyfriends arrived, and some were like this guy. Acting all professional, as if this was a job interview and not a hostage situation. He fleetingly wondered once again why it was always him getting kidnapped, and not one of the other guys. Not that he's ever wish this on one of his boys, oh bloody hell no. It was just so tiring that everyone and their mum thought that just since he was the data analyst and had no weapon training, he was weak and defenseless.
Well, he was, but it's still rude to assume.
Gavin focused on Greasy Hair. "Bugger off" He told the other man and shot him a glare. The bony man begun pacing, staring at the British man. He wanted to squirm under his captor's gaze, but he sat still, unwavering. Greasy broke the staring contest by turning his back to Gavin, then doing a 180 and slapping him in the face.
Harsh.
Gavin's head snapped to the side when the man's hand connected with his face. Ouch, this dude really knew how to deliver a right good slap. The left side of his face stung and the inside of his mouth tasted coppery and metallic, having bitten his tongue. He once again gave the man a dirty look, and spat a bloody gob of spit at his feet.
Greasy stared at the spit for second, then looked back at Gavin with a sly grin, satisfied that he had injured the man.
"Hurt, didn't it?" Gavin's captor said in his nasally voice that was like sandpaper on Gavin's nerves, "There's a lot more-and a lot worse- if you don't spill all your little secrets about Fake AH crew."
"I'm good, but thanks for the offer" He replied with fake sincerity dripping from his voice. Gavin could practically see the gears turning in the man's head.
"I'm offering the easy way, Free. Just cough up what we want to know, and you're free to go. " There was an undercurrent of a threat in his voice, "Don't make this harder than it needs to be."
Gavin practically rolled his eyes. Same old, same old. "Once again, I'm good. Top, actually." He repeated.
"Hard way it is then." The Brit saw his captor reach for something in his pocket, and before the hostage could figure out what it was, the man's long, skeletal fingers were shoving it down his throat, digging his fingernail into Gavin's throat and scraping it raw. He wanted to scream, but already his vision was blurring, and he slumped over in the chair.
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When he awoke for the second time, Gavin was in a completely different place. His head felt like it was going to implode in on itself, and his entire body was weak and felt like Jell-o. The room was a lot brighter than the first area, but all the light was artificial, coming from a bright fluorescent light above. In front of him sat a laptop, and an array of what he assumed were items that would assist in his torture. Said items ranged from pocket knives to chainsaws.
He thought he was going to hurl.
The fact that his partners hadn't found him yet made a deep chill settle in his stomach. However many times he'd gotten kidnapped, his boys had usually found him by now, and it worried him that he was still here, tied to a chair, instead of his boyfriends' arms. Gavin swallowed his anxiety as footsteps entered the room. It wasn't Greasy, but instead a larger, burlier man who looked just as disgusting as the last guy.
At first, the man ignored him, walking over the laptop and turning it on. It was set up on some sort of video chat, but no other person was on the screen.
"What are you doing?" Gavin inquired with his words slurring together, trying to get his panic levels to stop going up. A grunted "you'll see" was all he got in reply. How rude.
Greasy walked in, deep in a conversation on his cell phone. The Brit couldn't make out the words, but by his dark expression and lowered voice, he anticipated it didn't mean good things for him.
He stared at the ground, trying to remember how he even got in this situation. The last thing he remembered was going out for celebratory bevs after a successful heist. He had ordered his drink and decided to talk it up with the pretty girl sitting on his left. And that was where things got blurry. Must've slipped something in my bloody drink!, He thought, furious at himself for not watching it closer.
The laptop dinged and on the screen was "video call request". Greasy had hung up his phone and watched Burly accept it. A shudder slithered down Gavin's spine when he saw the faces pop up on the screen. There they were, his boyfriends, all but Ryan and Ray huddled around the small screen.
"Gavin!" Michael and Geoff yelped simultaneously, but Geoff quickly returned to a business-like composure. Gavin, having lived with Geoff for a while now, could easily see that he was concerned and angry underneath his professional mask.
"I swear to God if you so much as touch a hai-" Michael's voice broke off in a strained cry when Gavin was hit in the face with something round, flat, and hot. The Brit let a small whimper escape his throat and turned to see that what had hit him was a frying pan.
That's new, he thought in a daze.
Michael yelled something that was presumably a profanity, but Gavin couldn't comprehend it in the moment. The brawny man picked up the smallest pocket knife and got all up in Gavin's face.
"Now," the man said in a deep low growl, "how much of your pretty face do I have to cut up before your buddies spill all your gang's secrets?" He ran a knife down Gavin's face and neck, creating shallow, superficial wounds that stung like hell. Shouts of protest came from the screen.
The large man simply glanced back at the screen, shrugged, and slammed the knife down in Gavin's leg. An earsplitting scream ripped from Gavin's throat, causing to the protest on the screen to become panicked yelping. The man removed the knife and did nothing to stanch the wound, leaving the British man staring at his leg in shock as red flowed down in waves. Burly had turned around to wipe off his knife, and when he turned back, he held a lighter.
He prayed a quick prayer to whatever deity was listening that his boyfriends showed up soon.
Greasy-who had been standing off to the side, watching-spoke up, "You're running out of time, Ramsey." The gaunt man stared straight into the camera, trying to intimidate Gavin's boyfriend. Gavin laughed on the inside, and would've spat at the man and told him to go fuck himself if his throat hadn't been so dry. His captor then waved his hand to his henchman, who in turn set Gavin's shirt on fire.
The Brit screamed once again as flames licked up his front and back, searing his skin. He vision became black around the edges and he thought he was going to pass out in shear pain. He probably was, until his torturer grabbed his face and made him look towards the camera. "No, please continue screaming!," The sturdy man hissed, his grip on Gavin's face becoming tighter, "It's much more entertaining when you're awake." When Gavin looked about 50% closer to death, Burly put him out.
Burly got out the knife once again, this one slightly more wicked looking. Gavin let out an involuntary whimper, which made the other smile.
"Aw, is wittle baby Free scared?" He mocked, once again tracing the British man's face with the knife, "Don't worry, I'm almost done." Gavin swallowed hard, acutely aware of the laced threat.
He grabbed Gavin's shirt, cutting down the front with the knife until all his seared flesh was on displayed. On the screen, he heard Michael suck in a breath. Burly began making long, looping cuts of the freshly burned skin, cuts that were meant to hurt, not kill. Tears streamed down the British man's face as he bit his lip and tried not to scream.
"And now," His torturer turned toward the camera and took a bow, making sure to gesture to the bruised, burned, and bloodied Gavin, "The finishing act." Burly walked behind the Brit, knife in hand. He calmly put it in front of Gavin's neck, and glanced toward Greasy.
"You've got 30 seconds to agree to tell us about your hideout and other secrets, or else we slit your precious data analyst's neck." The beady-eyed man told Geoff, and the rugged man behind him pressed the knife to his throat, drawing blood. Gavin's brunette boyfriend opened his mouth to speak.
That's when the power cut out.
"What the fuck?" Burly let up on the knife, looking around in confusion, "Boss, should I off hi-" Gunshots rang out down stairs and Gavin breathed a sigh of relief. His boys had come for him.
"No, just wai-" Greasy's nasally voice was cut off and something-presumably Greasy- hit the ground with a dull thud.
"Drop the knife." A deep voice that Gavin would recognize anywhere as Ryan commanded Burly, and, to Gavin's relief, instead of offing him right then and there, his captor dropped it. Another bullet rang out in the quiet warehouse and another thud sounded in the room.
Two beams of light lit up the dark space as two of his boyfriends came over to him. "Are you okay? Are you seriously hurt?" Ray asked as he worked on getting the zipties undone, his mother-hen nature rearing it's head. Gavin tried to answer, but all that would come out was slurred gibberish and coughing. When Ray had gotten the zipties off, he tried to stand, but his legs collapsed under him and he fell onto Ryan, who caught him and pulled him into a warm hug.
"Sorry we were late, babe" Ryan apologized, "We didn't have our world-class data analyst to help us find you." Gavin tried to muster a laugh, but his head hurt and his skin still felt like it was one fire, so he just laid limp in Ryan's arms.
Ray looked around , "C'mon, lets go" the Puerto Rican said, but before he began moving, he shot a glare at Burly's corpse, "He deserved a lot more than a shot to the head." Ray spat on the dead body and moved towards the stairs.
Ryan moved to pick Gavin up, but he choked out a "hold on". The Brit threw up stomach acid onto the floor of the warehouse, and the last thought that ran through his mind before blacking out was, "wow I'm glad I didn't do that on Ryan".
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Gavin woke up in yet another unfamiliar place, but this time it was okay. He awoke to his boyfriends' faces looking at him in concern, and when they saw him awake they all relaxed.
Michael was the first to crack a joke.
"Fucking hell, Gavin." The redhead said with false anger, "Stop getting your ass kidnapped so much."
The Brit laughed, even though his chest hurt, and everyone else laughed along with him. And hearing his boyfriends' laugh was honestly better than any medicine.
Gavin smiled to himself. This was exactly where he should be.