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You didn’t just “quit” the FBI. That’s what no one seemed to understand. With a city like Los Santos so close by, you didn’t quit until you retired. But Ryan? He was done with it. He didn’t want to be involved in the bullshit anymore. He was tired of gunning down petty thieves only to let the real criminal masterminds go loose. The FBI was just as easily bribed as the Los Santos police force, and he’d had just about enough of it. So he did the only logical thing one could do: he faked his own death.
The task itself definitely wasn’t as easy as he hoped. He had to find a body that matched his own almost exactly, and then destroy anything that wouldn’t match his own records: teeth, fingerprints, eyes. The corpse, when Ryan was finished with it, was almost sickeningly mangled. As an additional precaution, he threw it into the ocean. After that it was as easy as an anonymous call from a payphone and he was free. Free! He hadn’t felt so light in years.
The feeling wore off quick, though, along with the funds he had managed to acquire before he lost all his assets. In no time he was broke and bored, never a good combination for Ryan. It was, after all, what had led to him joining the FBI in the first place.
A normal person would’ve sat down and thought out a plan to get a job, start a new life. Ryan? He decided to dawn a mask and see what it was like on the other side. He decided to become Vegabond. His first robbery was a small convenience store in the middle of nowhere on the skirts of Los Santos. His heart was pounding in his chest as he arrived at the scene on a stolen motorcycle, engine roaring loudly. The person inside was middle-aged and looked bored, at least until he caught sight of Ryan.
He really was a sight for sore eyes, though. The mask he had chosen was a black skull, ominous and almost smiling. Add on a leather jacket and a hand gun and he certainly fit the part. He didn’t say anything as he walked in, simply aiming his gun at the shop keep’s head.
“The fuck?!” The man yelled, “What the fuck do you think you’re doing?”
Ryan tilted his head to the side. He motioned to the till, and then to the man. When he didn’t move, Ryan shot a bottle less than a foot from his head. “Fuck! Alright! Don’t fucking kill me man, I’ve got a family!”
Ryan almost scoffed. He knew the man was lying. He’d watched this place for two days straight, there was no family waiting for this man at home. He shot another bottle, pushing the man to move faster. When his bagged was returned to him and the cash drawer emptied, Ryan lowered his gun and walked out at a leisurely pace. As he opened the door he could hear the man on the phone behind him. Under the mask, Ryan smiled. Just what he was waiting for. He turned quickly and shot the man once, the bullet burying itself in his brain.
That had been, for all intents and purposes, Ryan’s first kill. It was his first kill as Vegabond, his first time shooting a gun without the FBI watching him. And, damn did it feel good. Still, he hadn’t left the FBI to switch sides. He left to live a normal life, and that is just what he planned on doing. He’d get a real job and live a normal…ish life.
Or so he thought.
Ryan quickly realized that he was bored by what was considered ‘normal’. He managed to land a job at some company doing IT, but he hated it. Hated every second he had to listen to people complain about their computers, every moment spent listening to the clock tick by. He hated going home and vegetating on the couch to whatever TV show caught his interest that night.
The only times Ryan actually felt alive was when he donned the mask. When he became Vegabond—a character he so lovingly handcrafted for himself—he could do anything. And he did. Not all the time, of course not, but whenever the boredom got too much.
Watching the aftermath of his heists on the news was almost as much fun as committing them. Sometimes more, really. The news anchors never knew what to say about him, and even the local gangs—Funhaus and the Fake AH Crew—had started sending him threats. It really was quite amusing.
His favorite outing to date was when he crashed one of the Fake AH Crew’s heists. It was almost comical how easy it was for him to find out their plan. They were supposed to be the most successful crew in Los Santos, it really shouldn’t have been so easy to hack into their laptops.
He showed up just as they started what the leader had called the ‘stealth’ portion. He snuck up behind them, boots barely making noise, especially in comparison to theirs. They were fucking loud. From what he could tell, he was behind the British one—Gavin. The loudest and clumsiest of them all. Ryan had watched him crash three cars in the short drive from their penthouse to the warehouse.
It took them a good five minutes to notice him, which made Ryan even giddier. The leader—Geoff—screamed, as did Gavin. Jack pulled a knife out of her bra, and the short one—Ray, maybe? He’d been the quietest at the meeting—simply stared at him in disbelief.
“What the fuck are you doing here, asshole?” Geoff asked, glaring. He finally pointed his gun at Ryan, who simply shrugged.
“Don’t pull your silent bullshit on us, dickhead.” A voice said from behind him.
Ah, Ryan thought, there’s the angry one.
“Dude, how’d you even find us?” Ray asked. Again, Ryan shrugged. “Okay… well, are you going to kill us, or help us? I kind of have stuff to do later.”
“He wouldn’t seriously try and 5v1 would he?” Jack asked, yet the slight tremor in her voice was answer enough.
He had helped that night. He didn’t initially plan to, he was going to kill them. Mostly out of habit, but still. He didn’t plan to help them take down Funhaus’ headquarters. But it was fun. Even if that was hard for him to admit. The group had a weirdly entertaining dynamic. They seemed to all vastly dislike each other, yet it was obvious they cared intimately about one another’s safety.
When Ryan got home that night, he had no plans to see anyone from the Fake AH Crew again. But apparently he wasn’t the only crafty one, and apparently Ray took an interest in him. Either that, or he had a death wish.
When Ray first started shadowing Ryan on his outings, he hated it. He was moments from shooting the kid almost constantly, but he could never bring himself to do it. Ray had an unusual charm to him. He didn’t complicate things as much as Ryan thought he would. If anything, he actually made them a little easier. Ray didn’t seem to mind that Ryan refused to speak, more than willing to fill the silence with his own commentary. More than that, though, the kid was a damn good sniper. Takedowns that would’ve previously taken Ryan hours were done in no time, and the rewards often better.
He hated to admit it, but he quite liked having Ray around. He was pretty sure his motives were connected to his Crew, but Ryan chose to ignore it. Ray never tried to find out who he was under the mask, and as a result Ryan grew to trust him… to an extent.
Everything changed when Ray showed up at his place of work. He was heading up to the 12th floor when he caught sight of the younger man at the front desk. Ryan’s heart stopped, panic rising quickly. How did he even find him?
“Hey, hold the elevator!” Ray yelled, jogging over. Ryan rapidly pressed the close door button, but to no avail. “Thanks, man.”
The doors closed slowly, engulfing them in silence. Ryan waited. He waited for Ray to pull a gun on him, or even for him to say anything, but he didn’t. They reached floor 8, his floor, without so much as a word. Ray turned to him as the door opened. “Do you happen to know where Lindsay Jones’ desk is? I don’t want to go looking for her.”
Ryan nodded, swallowing around the lump in his throat, “This way.”
Ryan led him to the office at the end of the hall. Lindsay had only been with the company a couple of months and she’d already managed to work her way up to Head of Finances. Out of all the people in the building, she was the only one Ryan could stand.
“Hey Linds!” Ray said as they stepped in.
“Oh hey Ray, what’re you doing here?” She glanced over his shoulder, “Hey Rye, thanks for dropping him off.”
“Sure.” He turned to leave the office, noticing that they remained silent as he left. He heard the door shut behind him, and his curiosity got the best of him. He ducked into the office next to Lindsay’s quickly, ignoring the weird looks coming over cubicles. He pressed his ear to the thankfully thin walls.
“How’s the shitty day job going?” Ray asked.
“About as well as it could be going.”
“Already managing the finances, damn Linds. We’re going to be so far ahead of schedule.”
He heard Lindsay laugh softly, “Well, we’ll see. I definitely don’t have enough information yet. If we’re going to take this place down, we’re going to need to be flawless.”
“Right.”
Ryan pushed away from the wall. So Ray wasn’t here for him. He had to admire the audacity of the Fake AH Crew, though. Trying to pull a heist like this off? They had guts. Or they were too cocky to realize the scale of the company they were trying to hit.
With a shrug, Ryan left the office and headed towards the office. He’d just have to keep closer tabs on the Crew, see what their plan was. Maybe, just maybe, he’d have to join in again.
Ray came back to the office the next week, but this time he made his way down to the basement—to Ryan. The younger man startled him, the quiet footsteps Ryan had gotten so used to hearing in the dead of night going unnoticed until Ray was right behind him.
“Hey, you’re Ryan right?” He had asked, and Ryan had almost jumped out of his skin. “Woah, sorry man! Didn’t know I was that quiet.”
“What do you want?” Ryan barked, a little harsher than usual.
“I, uh… Lindsay told me you were good with computers.”
Ryan just gave him a look, ‘Really? You’re standing in the IT department, what do you think?’
“Right, well. I was wondering if you could help me and some friends out. We’ll pay you triple what you’re making here.”
Ryan raised an eyebrow, “And what company do you represent?”
“It’s, uh… not so much a company?” Ray fiddled with the strings on his hoodie, “It’d be a one-time job.”
“And what would I be doing exactly?”
“We think someone’s hacking into our computers. Listening in, so to say.” Ryan did his best to hide his smile. They had noticed, after all. “And, well, they’ve caused a bit of trouble in the past. So we kind of… don’t want them doing it anymore?”
This was perfect. Poor little Ray had no idea who he was talking to, and now Ryan had the best in he could’ve asked for. And he’d be making a decent buck. “Alright,” He shrugged, “I guess it shouldn’t be too much of a problem. If Lindsay sent you my way I’m sure you’re a decent group.” He grabbed a post-it note and a pen from his desk, “Just write down when and where, I’ll be there.”
“Sweet, thanks man!” Ray smiled, eagerly reaching for the note. He scribbled the information down and handed it back. Ryan glanced down, noting that it wasn’t the address of their penthouse. Smart. “See you tomorrow!”
Ryan did let himself smile this time. He’d be seeing Ray a hell of a lot sooner than tomorrow.
When Ryan arrived at Mount Chiliad that night he found Ray already there. He had his favorite sniper rifle resting between his knees, and his fingers were playing with the strings on his hoodie. He was nervous about something. As payback for earlier in the day, Ryan snuck up on him, feet almost silent even against the gravel. He tapped the younger’s shoulder, causing him to vault forward—straight towards the fucking cliff. Ryan leaped towards him, grabbing his hand at the last possible second and pulling him to his chest, the gun between Ray’s legs crashing its way down the rocks. He could feel Ray’s heart pounding, or maybe it was his own. Either way they were both panting and speechless.
Or, they were. Before Ryan could react, Ray punched him in the stomach, hard. “What the fuck, man?!” He shouted, “I almost died! And you lost my favorite fucking gun!”
Ryan wanted to apologize. But now, more than ever, it was crucial that Ray didn’t hear his voice. He did his best to at least look apologetic.
“God damn it, Vegabond. You can fucking talk to me, you know that right?” Ray sighed and began to pace in front of Ryan, “I mean, we’ve been doing this for what, four months now? You trust me enough to keep you from getting killed, but you can’t talk to me?”
Ryan just shook his head, and Ray heaved a sigh. “You’re damn lucky I like you.”
That night they took down five convenience stores before to get milkshakes.
The next day went almost painfully slow for Ryan. Work was as boring as ever. He just wanted the day to end so he could go and screw with the Fake AH Crew. He’d worked out the perfect system. A nice little program that even a skilled programmer would have a hard time finding that would give him complete access to their systems. Not only would he be able to turn on their webcams remotely like he had been, but now he could access their documents.
And, best of all, he would be able to shut everything down with the click of a button. If he ever so chose to, he could lock all of their information away and they wouldn’t be able to do a single thing about it. The prospect of “fixing” all their electronics was making him giddy.
When the work day ended, he went home and made sure that everything was flawless and undetectable. When he was happy with it, he headed to the address Ray had written down. Naturally, it was an abandoned warehouse. Actually, it had been one of the warehouses he and Ray had hit almost a month ago. Ryan laughed at the memory as he sauntered in.
He didn’t know what he was expecting to find when he walked in, but it wasn’t Ray with a gun and a pile of laptops and computers.
“Oh, hello again.” He said, offering a small wave.
“’Sup.”
“Gun really necessary, ‘Brownman’?” Ryan asked, noting as Ray’s eyes widened slightly. “Are you really that shocked? The Fake AH Crew is fairly infamous at this point.”
“Fair.” Ray lowered the gun, but didn’t completely relax. He motioned to the electronics, “Have at ‘em.”
Ryan got to work quickly. He couldn’t help but shudder at the state of some of the laptops. Still, it wasn’t much worse than the computers at the office. About the same amount of porn, slightly more murder. It’d barely been an hour before everything was all set up. “Should be good to go.” He told Ray.
“Awesome, thanks man.” He was handed a wad of cash, naturally. “So, uh, you know if any shit starts going wrong I’ve gotta kill you, right?”
“I figured.”
“And you’re not going to mention it to anyone?”
“Nope.”
“And you’re not going to get Lindsay fired for associating with us?”
Ryan shrugged, “Nah.”
“Cool.”
Ryan left the building with his pockets decently heavier and his ego considerably larger.
When he met up with Ray that night he made sure to make way more noise than he needed to, silently chuckling as a glare was thrown his way. “Har, har, har, you’re such a laugh. Asshole.”
He could tell already tonight would be one of their calmer ones. One of the nights where no one died and nothing was stolen. Well, nothing was noticeably stolen. It was a rare time that Ryan went out as Vegabond without guns blazing, but sometimes just being around Ray was equally as fun as shooting a couple dozen cops.
Tonight they decided to go to one of Los Santos’ many shooting ranges. When they walked through the door, the man behind the counter instantly pointed a gun at them. They both laughed. “Dude, calm down,” Ray said, “We’re not here to rob you. We just want to use the shooting range. Cool?”
The look on the poor man’s face was priceless. Confusion, anger, and downright disbelief. Still, he waved them through. Ryan waved as they went by and the man’s face paled slightly.
It didn’t take long for their friendly shooting to become a game of who could get more headshots in a minute. Ray won, barely.
“So,” Ray said as they stopped for a short water break. “Have you ever thought about joining a Crew?” Ryan spit out the water in his mouth. “….Apparently not.” He quickly pulled his mask back down over his mouth, studying Ray suspiciously.
“Don’t look at me like that, dude. It was just a question, I’m not trying to force you into anything.”
Ryan nodded in understanding, but internally he could help but panic a little. Join a crew?? He’d been part of the FBI! If they found that out they’d shoot him on the spot. Hell, if they found out that he was him and he’d fucked with their computers they’d shoot him on the spot. Either way, he’d come out dead.
Why had Ray even offered? They were apparently aware he’d been watching them, why did Ray think he could join? Ryan froze. Was that an actual invitation? Was Ray saying that he could join his crew? Least to say, the rest of the night was less than comfortable. He couldn’t look at Ray without feeling guilty anymore, and it was showing.
When they parted ways that night Ryan realized that it would be the last time he’d see Ray. He realized that it was the last time he’d be able to don the mask and become Vegabond. When he left Ray that night, he realized that he would once again have to disappear.
Disappearing, Ryan quickly discovered, was not as easy with Ray as it was with the FBI. At first, everything was quiet. He stayed cooped up in his small apartment and didn’t leave for anything except groceries. He watched endless hours of TV, played too many video games, and did whatever he could to ignore the itching need to go out and do something.
For a while, he heard nothing. And then the news reports started. Once a week a “brutal” crime would flash on the news. And every one was for Ryan.
The first one took him by surprise. If it weren’t for the rewind feature on his TV, he would’ve missed it. An anonymous killer—Ray—had gone on a rampage. Not necessarily unusual in Los Santos, except he shot a message into the wall. One word—Vegabond.
They only got worse after that. It went from bullet holes, to guns, to blood. They got more frequent, almost bi-weekly, but every time it was the same word: Vegabond. The police, as stupid as always, assumed it was Ryan’s new signature. Currently he was the most wanted person in Los Santos, feared more than the god damn Fake AH Crew at this point.
It was starting to piss him off.
He broke his self-induced lockdown by the third week, moving in the dead of night and sending a message of his own: Go away, Ray.
For some deranged reason, he thought it would work. Naturally, it just provided the kid with hope. A messaged appeared the next day. Not happening. I’ll be in our spot.
Ryan couldn’t ignore the weird feeling in his chest at the words. Our spot. He knew where Ray was talking about—Mount Chiliad. But since when was it theirs? He spent most of the day pacing. Each step seemed to change his mind, should he go or not? He wanted to, but he should. But he had to, yet he knew he couldn’t.
Somehow he ended up back in his mask, driving up to the goddamn mountain even without being completely sure it was he wanted. The cops were everywhere. They had no idea where the spot was, but they seemed to think they’d find it. Almost comical, yet it just made Ryan feel worse. This stupid meeting could get one of them killed. Could get Ray killed.
The look on Ray’s face when he came into view was… heartbreaking. He was so happy and excited. “Vegabond!” He shouted, “You actually showed!”
Ryan stepped off his bike, but didn’t move any closer to Ray.
“If you didn’t want to join the Crew that badly you could’ve just said something. Or, er… wrote something?” Ray shrugged, “Didn’t need to go AWOL on me.”
Ryan sighed. At this point there was no going back. He was pretty much going to get shot at this point. “I didn’t have a choice.”
Ray’s eyes went wider than Ryan had ever seen them go. “Did you just—was that a voice?” He threw his arms up, “He speaks!”
Ryan could hear sirens in the distance. They’d found them. “Listen to me, Ray. You need to stay away from me. This is it. I’m done, I want out, I don’t want to see you anymore.”
“What, why?”
“Because I can’t do it anymore.”
“Do what?” Ray asked, but the sirens were getting closer. They didn’t have much longer before they were both screwed. Ryan maybe more so than Ray, what with his history.
“I can’t live like this anymore.” He said, climbing back onto his bike and revving the engine to life. “Sorry, Ray.”
He drove off without looking back, because he knew if he did he would turn around, and he couldn’t.
Ray didn’t keep trying, which Ryan hated to admit kind of disappointed him. It was what he wanted. Or, it was what he thought he wanted. He wanted to be safe. Right? Either way, he’d let Ray hear his voice, which was a mistake. If he put together Vegabond’s voice with Ryan-the-IT-guy’s voice, they could easily track him down.
Which is why Ryan started keeping tabs on them again, listening in. Sure enough, he ended up hearing exactly what he thought he would.
“Ray. How’s Vegabond, still keeping an eye on him?” Geoff asked.
“No.”
“What, why?”
Ray shrugged, “He quit.”
Jack looked at him in disbelief. “You don’t just quit, Ray.”
“Well he did.”
“Ray, if we find out you’re helping him…”
“I’m not.”
“If anything goes wrong on the heist—” Geoff began, only to be cut off when Ray stood abruptly, slamming his hands down on the table and looking angrier than Ryan had ever seen him.
“He doesn’t want anything to fucking do with me, okay? So just fucking stop.” He shouted, and promptly stormed out of the room.
“What the hell was that about?” Michael asked.
“I think Ray may have gotten a little too close to Vegabond.” Jack said, and it was like a slap in the face. Everything Ryan knew about Ray shifted, all the memories looked just a little different. And Ryan felt like a god damn idiot. Instead of giving Ray the benefit of the doubt like a normal human being he had jumped to his own conclusions and screwed everything up.
But not for long. For once in his life Ryan would fix things.
It started with a message. I’m sorry written in red roses at a crime scene.
(The cops were very confused)
Then Ray’s answer, Fuck off written in blood.
(The news said they wouldn’t be reporting these stories anymore)
Then, Ryan moved to a hand written letter. Short, but sweet and dropped anonymously on Lindsay’s desk. He spent his nights atop Mount Chiliad hoping for the best, and went home disappointed every morning.
He eventually found himself in a gun shop, buying a bright pink sniper rifle, an exact replica of the one that Ray had lost when Ryan scared him. The man behind the counter was confused, and maybe a little concerned. All the places in the city knew that pink guns were Brownman’s trademark.
Instead of leaving it with Lindsay, Ryan decided to deliver it himself. As himself, not Vegabond. It took a bit of digging, but Ryan eventually found his address deep in Geoff’s files. At half past nine, he knocked on Ray’s door.
“Yeah, one sec!” He heard a couple bangs from within the apartment, then the door opened. “What are you doing here?” Ryan handed him the box. “What the hell is this?”
Ryan didn’t answer, so Ray tentatively opened the lid. His eyebrows furrowed together. “What the fuck? How’d you even get up here, asshole?”
“Said I lost my key, the old lady down the hall was kind enough to buzz me in.”
“And you’re giving this to me because…?”
“It’s from Vegabond. He wanted me to give it to you.”
The box was shoved back in his hands, “Tell him I don’t fucking want it.” The door began to shut, so Ryan shoved his boot in the door. “Oh c’mon, fuck off.”
“He insisted, Ray.”
“I don’t really care. Sorry, man.”
“He said he’s sorry.”
“Yeah, I know.”
Ryan sighed, “Is there anything he can do to gain your forgiveness?”
“He was the one who said he was done with me. I’m just respecting his wishes, it’s not my fault the asshole changed his mind.”
“He said he was wrong.”
Ray froze, “What?”
“About you—he jumped to conclusions. He’s sorry.”
“What conclusions?”
Ryan sighed, “Can I come in? It’s kind of a long story.”
Ray bit his lip, playing with the strings on his hoodie. After what felt like ages, the door opened. The apartment was considerably smaller than Geoff’s penthouse, but felt much more like a place Ray would live. There was an impressive collection of videogames, and what was either a very clean, or a completely unused kitchen. Ryan placed the rifle on the countertop.
“So, are you going to explain, or what?”
Ryan nodded, “You’re not going to like the story, though. You need to know that he never lied to you, not intentionally and never directly.”
“Great.”
Ryan explained what happened with the FBI; that he faked his death and tried to live normally. He explained that he’d been wired into their systems for months, and that he’d always known Ray was there to keep an eye on him. He explained that, despite that, he enjoyed spending time with Ray. He explained that he started looking forward to their outings, but that the more time that passed, the more he worried it would result in one or both of them getting killed.
He left out the part that he was Vegabond. At least, for now.
“An FBI agent. Seriously?”
Ryan nodded. “To quote him, ‘it was the worst decision of my life’.”
“Obviously.” Ray sighed, removing his glasses so he could rub tiredly at his eyes. “And who are you to be special enough to get to know all this crap?”
“You’re not going to like that answer, either.”
“I don’t really care at this point.”
Ryan reached into his jacket, where he had shoved his mask. He pulled it over his head, keeping his eyes on the floor so he didn’t have to look at Ray, and then gave a slight wave.
“Oh fuck no.” Ray was moving towards him quickly, grabbing the box off the counter and shoving it in his arms before pushing him back towards the door. “If you think I’m going to believe that you’re him you’ve lost your fucking mind.”
“Ray—”
“Get out!”
“The reason why you need a new gun is because I almost scared you off a cliff. You play with the strings on your sweater when you’re nervous. You can easily take out half a dozen men without blinking, but you’re useless with knives.”
“What are you doing?”
“I’m proving that I’m who I say I am.” Ryan said. He pushed Ray backwards this time, no longer trying to play the nice guy. When Ray’s back hit the kitchen counter, Ryan moved close enough that Ray would be able to see his eyes under the mask. The gun once again ended up on the counter so Ryan could put his arms on either side of Ray. “The first time we met you asked if I was going to kill you, or help you and you’re the only reason the Fake AH Crew is still alive.”
He pulled off the mask, throwing it on the counter next to the gun. “I’m showing you who I am, Ray. Don’t make me regret it.”
Ray was breathing a little heavier than usual, his eyes studying Ryan’s face. “I—I can’t believe you’rehim.”
Before he could fully process what he was doing, Ryan was pressing his lips against Ray’s, rough and demanding. He half expected to be pushed away, maybe even stabbed. Before he had a chance to allow the doubt to take hold, Ray’s hands were in his hair, pulling it out of the loose ponytail and tugging on it gently. Ryan hummed in pleasure, his hands moving from the counter to Ray’s waist and pulling him impossibly closer.
Ryan licked along Ray’s bottom lip, asking permission. When Ray’s lips parted to allow him in it became a game of dominance as their tongues fought. When Ryan pulled away they were both panting, Ray’s glasses sitting slightly askew on his face. Ryan moved lower, to Ray’s neck, and began marking him. The moans from the younger man spurred him forward. In one fluid movement Ryan lifted him so he was sitting on the counter, looking down at him with glazed eyes.
“You complicated everything,” Ryan said, his voice deeper than usual. “I wasn’t here to care about people, but you had to come along and work your way into my life. I couldn’t escape you, even outside of the mask. I can’t fucking lose you.”
“You should’ve started with that,” Ray said, laughing, “Hot damn you’re good at that.”
Ryan growled, capturing Ray’s lips once again. This kiss wasn’t as messy as their first, nor was it as violent. Ryan let his hands roam across Ray’s body, holding him as close as possible. This time, Ray was the one to break away. “Alright, you’ve either got to stop or we’ve gotta get to a bed because I can’t take this much longer.”
Ryan smiled, lifting Ray off the counter and laughing at the yelp he let out. He didn’t dare try and kiss him as the moved to Ray’s bedroom, knowing well that it would result in one or both of them tumbling to the floor. He dropped Ray on the bed and allowed himself a moment to just look at him. It wasn’t what he had come to Los Santos for, but it was a hell of a lot better.
“Take a picture, it’ll last longer.” Ray said, exasperated. Ryan chuckled and, partially out of spite, pulled his phone from his pocket. It was the first picture he’d taken on the phone, but it definitely wouldn’t be the last.