Archive of Our Own

The concept was simple. You turn sixteen, you wake up with a tattoo. It’s the first words you’ll hear from your soulmate. So, it wasn’t really a tattoo. It didn’t hurt, and it wasn’t like someone chose it for you. It just… appeared. A word or short phrase that would change your world. The concept was simple. Ray’s tattoo, not so much.

Don’t move, this is a robbery.

It was right on his goddamn wrist, too. Like, what the fuck. Everyone could see it. It scared the shit out of his parents. His mom disapproved of the guy before he even came into Ray’s life. The kids at school gave mixed reactions. Some thought it was badass, others said that he was going to die before he ever got a word out. Others said that of course he’d get involved with a criminal, that’s what his people did.

Basically, by the time he hit his mid-twenties, Ray was just fucking done with the whole thing. He was doing… decently for himself. He was working at a bookstore (because no one robs fucking bookstores) and had a nice-ish apartment in the city. He was doing fine.

He wasn’t going to fall in love with a goddamn criminal.

He kept his head down, ignored the news, and continued on with his life. Prayed that his tattoo was faulty or something. But no, Ray wasn’t that lucky. He was three hours from closing on Friday night. The shop was decently busy, but nothing he couldn’t handle on his own. Three hours, and it would be his weekend.

So when the little bell above the door chimed, the last thing Ray expected—and wanted—to see was a man in a skull mask. “Don’t move, this is a robbery.”

Ray knew he should be afraid. The guy was armed, after all. But instead, he sighed. He put his hands up alongside the customers in the shop, and stared at the masked man. His soulmate. He tried to think of himself loving the guy. Ray tilted his head to the side, narrowed his eyes… Nope. He still kind of hated him.

“Put all your money in the bag,” The man said, dropping a backpack onto Ray’s counter. He was tempted to refuse, but he didn’t know this guy. If he was really a psychopath, he probably wouldn’t hesitate to shoot his soulmate. Or hell, maybe Ray wasn’t his soulmate. It was rare, but not unheard of, for tattoos not to match up.

So he did as instructed, and put all the money in the till (which wasn’t a lot) into the bag. He didn’t speak. He refused to speak. It probably would’ve worked, except his wrist was on full display. It wasn’t hard for the man to glance down and see the words he’d just spoken.

Ray felt his heart drop as recognition registered in the criminal’s eyes. “You…”

He turned away from Ray, talking into his sleeve at rapid-pace. Ray didn’t stop filling the bag. Just in case. When the man turned back, he seemed different. “C’mon, you’re coming with me.”

Ray shook his head quickly, but the man nudged the gun against his temple. Ray knew not to argue with that. The bag of money was left on the counter.

He was shoved into a car, and told to keep his head down. The man raced them through the city streets, taking the turns sharp and driving with practiced ease. Ray was still working on not speaking. Maybe if he never spoke, all this would go away.

They pulled into a parking garage, the criminal skidding to a stop that sent Ray flying forward against his seatbelt. The man looked at him, looked at the steering wheel, and then got out of the car. When Ray made no sign to move, he leaned back down, “Let’s go.”

Ray recognized the apartment buildings. They were in the nicest part of town—way out of his budget. They were also rumored to house the most vicious crew in the city. Which, by the looks of things, was not a rumor. The man led Ray to the elevators, entering the key for the penthouse. Ray swallowed around the lump in his throat.

When they reached the top floor and the doors finally opened, there was an explosion of sound.

“Ryan! What the fuck man!”

“Why do you have him?’

“What happened to the plan?”

“Did you even get what you went in for?”

Ray didn’t move from his spot next to the entrance, watching as the man—Ryan—moved farther into the room. He removed the mask and… oh. Okay. That mask wasn’t hiding some horrendous face. Possibly the exact opposite, actually.

Ryan was attractive. Like, way out of Ray’s league attractive. Like, why the fuck did his soulmate have to be the hottest criminal in the city attractive. It really wasn’t fair. It almost made it worth it. Almost.

“That kid,” Ryan said, pointing back at Ray, “Has the words ‘Don’t move, this is a robbery’ on his wrist.”

The other members of the crew’s eyes went wide with understanding. The one with the mustache spoke first. “Oh. So he’s…”

“Looks like it.”

“Did he…?”

“Nope. Hasn’t breathed a word since I showed up.” They all looked at him then, and Ray swallowed around the lump in his throat. Maybe it wasn’t a good idea to take a vow of silence in a room of people who made a living making people talk.

“Kid, what’s your name?” The mustached man asked. Ray shook his head slowly. “Look, we’re not going to hurt you. Even if you aren’t Ryan’s soulmate.”

Again, Ray shook his head. This time, it was Ryan who spoke, “Geoff, it’s not like he’s going to say it. I don’t have a name on my chest, do I?”

“No.”

“Why don’t you write it down?” Ryan asked. Ray nodded slowly. He was handed a pad of paper, and for a moment he considered writing some bullshit down. He ultimately decided against it and handed the paper to Ryan. “Ray?” He nodded, Ryan smiled. “Ray. I like it.”

“Nice to meet you Ray, I’m Jack,” the bearded one said. He pointed to the two people on the couch that looked around his age, “That’s Gavin, and Michael.”

“And I’m Geoff.”

Ray nodded again.

“We’re not going to hurt you,” Ryan tried again. Ray nodded. “Why won’t you talk?”

Ray shrugged. Ryan sighed, and hung his head in defeat. “Okay, well. We’ve got an extra bedroom. You can stay there until the cops calm down, and then I’ll take you home.”

Ray nodded, and allowed himself to be lead to the back of the penthouse. He felt kind of bad. Ryan seemed nice, even if he was a criminal. But he’d made it this far, so he kept his mouth shut.

When Ray woke up the next morning, he had almost forgotten the shitshow that was the night before. Almost. But the bed he was curled up on was far too comfortable, the sheets not nearly scratchy enough. Everything came plummeting back. He just wanted to leave.

He pulled on his shoes quickly, and his sweater, before tiptoeing quietly through the halls of the penthouse. It was dead silent, so if he was lucky—

“Where are you going?” Ray froze, and sighed. Of course Ryan would be up. He turned to face the man, and raised an eyebrow. “Don’t you want breakfast? Coffee?”

Ray shook his head, and pointed to the door. He just wanted to go home.

“I wish you’d talk to me,” Ryan said wistfully. Ray shook his head. “Is it because I’m a ‘bad guy’?” He put the words in quotations. Ray nodded. Ryan sighed. “Alright, well. I’m not going to hold you here. At least let me drive you home.”

Ray wanted to decline, but it was amazing he was getting away with this much. So he nodded. Ryan pulled a set of keys off the wall, and lead the way to the door. As they walked to the car, Ray felt a pang of guilt. This was his soulmate. And, yes, he was a criminal and a member of the most dangerous gang in the city, but obviously the universe thought they belonged together.

He thought about saying something, but now he didn’t know what to say. He’d waited this long, he couldn’t just throw out a casual “hello”. So he shut up and stared forward and tried to remember that this was all almost over and he wouldn’t ever see Ryan again. He would get on with his life, and everything would be fine. Like it never happened.

So why, when they arrived back at the bookstore, did Ray feel like he was leaving a part of himself behind? Why did he want to tell Ryan to keep driving, and never stop? Why did he want to tell this—this criminal all his secrets and worries?

“You okay?” Ryan asked, looking between Ray and the store. He nodded quickly. “I’m sorry for causing such a pain,” He chuckled, but Ray could hear the hurt in his voice.

He wanted to correct Ryan; he wanted to tell him just how not painful meeting him had been, despite Ray’s wishes for it to be. But he couldn’t—wouldn’t—fall in love with a criminal. So he patted Ryan gently on the shoulder and got out of the car. It took all his willpower not to look back. When he got into the store, he glanced over his shoulder. Ryan was gone.

Ray’s life returned to normal. Like, far too normal. It was what he had wanted, but still. He had been expecting… something. He wasn’t expecting Ryan to just… listen to him. He was a criminal! Since when did criminals just—just do as asked without question? And, okay, maybe he did kind of want Ryan to show up. Maybe he hadn’t been able to stop thinking about him. Maybe he was regretting leaving just a little bit.

He thought that the last thing he ever wanted to do was fall in love with a criminal, yet when the police brought him in for questioning upon his return Ray had no issue paying a large chunk of his paycheck to get his tattoo covered and pulling together a bullshit story about what happened in the time they had him. It came so easy to lie, and he tried to ignore that fact. He also tried to ignore that the idea of finding his way back to that penthouse was getting more and more tempting with each passing day.

But he didn’t. Because he couldn’t fall in love with a criminal. He’d spent so much of his life telling himself that he wouldn’t let it happen. So he put the night behind him and moved on with his life.

He probably could’ve done it, too. He would’ve forgotten Ryan if given more time. But when Ray decided one thing, the universe usually picked the opposite.

When Ryan stumbled through the door of the bookshop two minutes before closing on Wednesday, masked and holding a gun, he had no idea how to react. The last thing he needed was for the cops to come back. He’d just gotten rid of them. Before he could say anything, Ryan turned and Ray saw the bullet wound in his shoulder.

He felt his heart stop, watching as Ryan fell heavily against the door, “I, uh, I could really use a hand.”

Ray couldn’t move. He couldn’t stop staring at the wound on Ryan’s shoulder. Couldn’t stop thinking about what it would mean if Ryan… if he… he could feel his hands shaking as he reached for the phone. He had to call 911. Ryan had to be okay. Before he could press a single button, Ryan was surging forward, catching himself on the desk, “Are you seriously calling an ambulance? Ray, if it wasn’t clear I was shot by a cop.”

Ray stared at him, eyes wide. He glanced down at the phone, then at Ryan, then back at the phone. What was he supposed to do if he couldn’t take him to the hospital?

“Okay. Okay,” Ryan sighed, “Stop panicking. Do you have a first aid kit?”

Ray nodded.

“Go get it.” He did as told, rushing into the back and grabbing as much stuff from the first aid cabinet as he could. When he got back, Ryan had made his way to the chair behind the desk. His gun was sitting on the countertop, and he was breathing heavily. Ray quickly dropped all the supplies on the counter before rushing to close the blinds, flipping the sign to closed. The last thing they needed right now was unwanted visitors. When he got back to Ryan, he already looked considerably worse.

“Okay,” Ryan took a deep breath, “You need to put pressure on it. Get some gauze, and press as hard as you can. I just need to call Geoff. I just need you to put pressure on it until they get here.”

Ray nodded quickly. He picked up some of the gauze and held it against Ryan’s chest, pressing firmly. Ryan hissed, and Ray looked up at him with wide eyes, “I’m fine,” he assured, “Just stings a little. You’re doing great.”

He pulled a phone from his pocket, dialing quickly. Thankfully, Geoff picked up almost immediately. Ray couldn’t really hear what he was saying, but from Ryan’s side it sounded like they were on their way. Thank god. When he hung up, Ryan let his head fall back against the wall.

“Thanks for doing this,” He said, pulling his mask off. His face paint was running, and he was sweating, but he was just as attractive as Ray remembered. “I’m sorry I keep coming into your life like this, but I appreciate what you’ve done.”

Ray didn’t know how to respond. Once again, Ryan was being nice. He was being the kind of person Ray would willingly spend time with. He was being a normal guy, not a fucking criminal. He didn’t know what to do, so he focused on trying to stop the bleeding—and failing.

“Seriously, Ray,” Ryan said, pulling his attention back to his fucking blue eyes, “I know you lied to the cops for us. You didn’t have to do that.”

Ray shrugged. Ryan sighed. “Still don’t wanna talk to me, hey? I guess I don’t blame you. I can’t imagine what it was like to grow up with the words ‘Don’t move, this is a robbery’ on your arm. You deserve better than that.”

Ray bit his lip. Ryan wasn’t what he expected when he used to spend hours glaring at the words on his arm. He didn’t expect soft, and sweet, and kindhearted. He expected cold, and greedy, and vicious. He wasn’t expecting Ryan. But the more time he spent next to him, the more he realized Ryan was exactly what he needed. But it was more than that, too. When Ryan stumbled through the door he seemed to fill a hole in Ray’s life. One that had never been before. It was like, from the minute he stepped out of that car, Ryan had a part of Ray with him.

“I’m sorry,” Ray said quietly. It was a lame excuse for first words, but he was tired of being silent. But Ryan didn’t respond, didn’t even flinch. Ray looked up and— “No, no, no, no…” Ryan’s eyes were closed, his shoulders limp. Ray leaned closer, and let out the breath he didn’t know he was holding. Still breathing. That’s a plus. But what was he supposed to do now?

Ray looked to the door, praying for Geoff to barge in, but no. The universe didn’t like him enough for that. Keeping one hand pushing firmly on the gauze, Ray cupped Ryan’s face in his other. “C’mon, Ryan. Wake up, please. Fuck, man, I’m sorry.”

Still nothing. Ray bit his lip, looking at the door again. Nothing. He took a deep breath, and slapped Ryan firmly across the face. The man in question woke with a start, grabbing Ray’s wrist tightly in his hand. His eyes were wide and dangerous—more what Ray was expecting when he first saw his tattoo. But it was gone almost instantly as the recognition set in. “Helpful tip, don’t slap a criminal.”

“I can’t lose you,” Ray said quietly, “I don’t want to lose you.”

Ryan’s eyes went wide, and then he broke out into a smile that made Ray’s heart pound in his chest. “It is you.”

“Of course it’s me, asshole,” Ray snipped, but there was no venom in his voice. It felt too nice to finally talk to Ryan. “Now don’t you fucking die on me.”

“Never,” Ryan smiled, and because his fucking happiness was contagious, Ray smiled too.

Everything happened so fast when Geoff showed up. Ray was pushed out of the way, much to his displeasure, and Geoff was fluttering around Ryan with someone Ray didn’t recognize. Michael came to stand beside him, a heavy hand falling on his shoulder. “Thanks for keeping him alive.”

“Yeah, well, turns out fate doesn’t get shit wrong.”

“He speaks!” Michael laughed happily. Way too happily in Ray’s opinion. Why wasn’t anyone as worried as he was by the fact that Ryan was still bleeding and in visible pain. “Dude, Ryan wouldn’t shut up about you. He kept going on and on about how shitty—”

“Don’t you dare,” Ryan growled. At least he was awake enough to be able to follow their conversation.

“Fine, fine. Only ‘cause you’re bleeding. But trust me, Ray. Dude was guttered,” Michael chuckled. “We’re glad you came around.”

Ray just nodded, focusing his attention back on Ryan. He bit his nails as he watched the man—who Michael informed him was their off-the-books doctor Caleb—work on stitching Ryan back up. He wished they could go to a hospital. With anesthetics. And a sanitary work surface. Ray tried not to think about all the shit he’d spilled on that desk and chair in his years of working at the bookstore.

When Caleb finally announced that Ryan was good to go, and just needed to rest, Ray felt himself deflate. All the worry seeped from his shoulders, and he finally felt like he could breathe. He wanted to rush to Ryan’s side but it still felt awkward. He held back near the desk instead, biting his bottom lip and trying not to stare at Ryan’s now-bare chest. Which, okay. Wow, he was in way better shape than Ray.

His eyes caught on the right side of Ryan’s chest. Sure enough, Ray’s words were right there in clear black lettering and all their incredibly cheesy glory.

I can’t lose you, I don’t want to lose you.

He felt himself flush at the desperation held in those words. It sounded so… so feminine. He couldn’t help but wonder if Ryan had thought Ray would be a girl. Had he been disappointed when, instead, he was faced with Ray and all his 5’8” pale and skinny glory? Probably.

He didn’t know how long he’d been staring before Ryan sighed, “Would you stop worrying and just get over here?”

Ray moved over, grabbing the offered hand. It felt nice in his own—really nice. Their fingers intertwined effortlessly, and Ray once again felt a pang of guilt for being so stupid and judgmental. Yes, Ryan was a criminal. No, that didn’t make him a bad guy. He wasn’t a murderer or a rapist or a pedophile. Out of all the “bad” things he could be, criminal was pretty fucking good. And Ray was pretty fucking dumb.

“What are you thinking about?” Ryan asked. He shifted in the chair and hissed in pain. Ray’s grip tightened on his hand.

“I’m an idiot and I’m sorry,” Ray answered quietly, looking anywhere but at Ryan. “I… jumped to conclusions. I spent so long thinking you were going to be this horrible person and I’m sorry.”

“You don’t have to apologize. I’m a bad guy, after all. No one wants to end up with bad guys.”

“You’re not,” Ray argued. “You’re probably one of the nicest people I’ve ever had the pleasure of meeting. You just… break some laws.” Ryan raised an eyebrow, “Okay, a lot of laws.”

“Well, thank you for that. But I realize I’m not exactly ideal and I understand if—”

“No, stop that. I already told you I don’t want to lose you. I wasn’t kidding.”

“Ray,” Ryan began, but he didn’t have the chance to finish his thought. Geoff was back, telling them that they needed to go—now—because the cops were coming. Once again, Ray found himself being rushed out of the store. This time, he was supporting Ryan. This time, he was holding a gun.

He wasn’t sure if he should let them know he had no idea how to shoot one.

By the time they managed to get back to Geoff’s penthouse, Ray was pumping with a mix of adrenaline and fear. It had been harder to shake the cops this time, and every sharp turn seemed to be followed by a hiss of pain from Ryan. The safety of a locked door had never felt so nice.

Ryan was still leaning pretty heavily on Ray, and he looked really pale. The bandages Caleb had covered his wound with needed replacing, and he needed sleep. So Ray quickly excused them from the celebratory group and let Ryan direct him to his room. Which, turns out, was where Ray slept last time.

“I thought you said this was a spare room.”

“I didn’t think you’d take it if you knew.”

Ray frowned, “Where did you sleep?”

“The couch.”

“Ryan—”

“Oh, stop. I’ve slept in worse places.” Ray sighed, but didn’t argue. He led Ryan to the bed, helping him lie down.

“I’ll be right back,” He said quietly before heading back to the main living area. The room fell silent when he walked in, and Ray realized that the last time they saw him he was pretty adamantly refusing to speak. “I, um. Gauze?”

“I’ll get it!” Gavin said, hopping up from the couch and disappearing through another door in the hallway.

“And, uh, pain meds?”

Geoff shook his head, “Ryan won’t take ‘em.”

“But…”

“I know, kid. But he’s got something against them. Just bring some water and try and keep an eye on him.”

Ray nodded, and accepted the glass of water he didn’t realize Jack had gotten up to get. Seconds later, Gavin was back with more gauze then Ray hoped he would need. He muttered a quiet “thanks” before retreating back to Ryan’s room. His eyes were closed when Ray opened the door, but when he sat gently on the bed, Ryan blinked them open slowly.

“You can sleep,” Ray whispered. He didn’t know why he was whispering, but hey. He started removing the blood-stained gauze, trying not to focus too much on the state of the wound and failing. It still looked really bad.

“Ray,” Ryan started again.

“Shh, it’s okay.”

Ryan grabbed his hands, holding them still and giving him no choice but to make eye contact. “This is important. I…” He sighed. “I’m glad that I got the chance to meet you. I’m glad that you decided that it didn’t matter what my choice of job is, but I need you to realize something.”

“Ryan…”

“I am a criminal, Ray.” He said firmly. “If you… decide to stay, to be with me, I need you to realize that your life isn’t going to be the same. You’ll know things… see things. You might not like all of it. I’ve killed people. Stolen a lot of money. I can never… I’ll never be able to marry you officially. We can never have a kid of our own.

Worse of all, if you decide to stay, you’re going to have to leave your life as you know it now behind. You’ll have to lie, and at any point we could be forced to run. You wouldn’t be able to tell anyone about what I do. Ray, do you understand what you’d have to sacrifice for me?”

Did he? He knew that he wanted to be with Ryan. He knew without a doubt that when they were together he felt… happy. At home. Now that he’d finally stopped trying to talk himself out of it, he couldn’t imagine himself with anyone else. So, yeah. He did understand what he was giving up.

“I won’t lie, I didn’t think about that shit,” Ray said and, predictably, Ryan started to close off almost instantly. Ray grabbed one of his hands, squeezing it tightly, and ran his fingers gently over Ryan’s tattoo with the other. “Funny thing is; I don’t need to marry you. I would make a terrible father. I don’t really talk to my family much anymore, so the only thing I’d be leaving behind is a sub-par job at a bookstore. I’ve never felt more alive than when I’m with you.”

“Ray—”

“No, Ryan. You’ve warned me about what to expect. Now let me decide whether or not I want to stay.”

“What if you get hurt? I don’t think I could live with myself if I let something happen to you.”

“In this city, anything can happen to me. It doesn’t matter if I’m involved with you or not. Hell, I could fall down a flight of stairs tomorrow for all we know. It wouldn’t be your fault.”

“Yeah, but this lifestyle isn’t exactly safe.”

“I trust you.”

Ryan frowned, “What?”

“I trust you. I trust that you’ll always be there for me, and that you’ll keep me safe to the best of your abilities.”

“You don’t know me, Ray.”

“You’re my soulmate.”

“I’m a very wanted criminal part of the city’s most dangerous crew.”

Ray shrugged, “That wasn’t a problem when you pulled me out of the bookstore at gunpoint and dragged me here the first time. What changed?”

“I saw how scared you were. How hard you tried not to speak so you wouldn’t have to be tied to me,” Ryan said quietly. “You hated the idea of me, what changed?”

“You walked into the bookstore with a bullet in your shoulder and I realized that I couldn’t live without you.”

“You don’t know me,” Ryan repeated firmly.

“I want to know you!” Ray shouted, exasperated. “Don’t you feel it, Rye? Don’t you feel the—the pull? When I got out of your car the morning after we met, did it not feel like part of you was coming with me?”

Ryan paused, staring at him. There was something in his eyes, something that Ray couldn’t place. And then Ryan was looking away from him, out the window. He pulled his hand out of Ray’s grasp and muttered one word, shattering his world, “No.”

“Don’t you fucking do that to me,” Ray said, feeling his throat close up as tears stung his eyes. “Don’t you fucking lie to me, Ryan.”

“I’m not lying.”

“Bullshit! You think you’re being some sort of fucking hero by letting me go. You think that I can just leave and live a normal life. Well, being a hero doesn’t fucking suit you, so let it go.”

Ryan looked back at him, preparing to argue, but Ray didn’t give him a chance. He moved forward, pressing his lips firmly against Ryan’s. He’d never kissed a guy before, but he was hoping it wasn’t much different from kissing a girl. And Ryan’s lips felt right against his own. He could feel the hesitation, the moment Ryan considered pushing him away.

Don’t you dare, Ray thought. But Ryan didn’t push him away. Instead, his good hand found its way into Ray’s hair, pulling him closer and deepening the kiss. When they finally parted, they were both panting. Ray rested his forehead against Ryan’s. “Don’t fucking lie to me, okay? I know you’re worried about me, but don’t try and decide how I should live my life. I want to be with you.”

“I can’t lose you, either.”

“You won’t.”

“You don’t know that.”

Ray sighed, “No, I don’t. But I know that I’m willing to take the slight risk of me getting hurt over the certainty of the pain it would cause me not to be with you.”

Ryan smiled, and Ray knew they would be okay. They had a ton of shit to figure out, but they’d be okay. He’d spent so much of his life telling himself he wouldn’t fall in love with a criminal, but now he couldn’t wait to.