Chapter Text
Gavin Free was known for his determination. A Golden Boy with a silver tongue who could talk circles around anyone he so pleased to get the information that he wanted in the easiest, most efficient way possible. Gavin had talked kingpins into giving up their assets and their turf, he had bargained his way out of the backseat of a police car with ease on more than one occasion, and of course he could always work his way to the best possible deal at any negotiation or job he may need. It was easy, and it came naturally to him, he had always been persuasive, and had had a habit of drawing out a person’s darkest secrets from the time he was a little boy, and while it had gotten him in trouble on more than one occasion, it was typically more to his benefit than anything else.
But there was one person he just couldn’t seem to get his words to work on.
Ryan was an enigma. He was a mystery wrapped up in excuses and half-truths, hidden behind masks and leather jackets and face paint.
And it drove Gavin utterly insane.
He had never been denied something he wanted so brutally and constantly as he was with Ryan. Any time he tried to get him to open up, Ryan would offer nothing but a grunt in reply, or perhaps a witty response that got Gavin no further from where he had started. It was completely infuriating.
But Gavin was nothing if not determined, and he absolutely loved a challenge. The tougher the nut to crack the harder Gavin worked at it, he was like a dog with a bone, he wouldn’t let up until it was finished or buried.
And, whether he was willing to admit it to himself or not, he wasn’t just fascinated with Ryan because of his mystery, he was fascinated in him because he was bloody incredible.
Gavin was one of the taller amongst the crew, and Ryan dwarfed even him by several inches, he was striking and visibly confident with his long ever-so-pullable blond hair and his amazingly bizarre heterochromatic eyes that made the filmmaker in Gavin’s brain scream at how much he wanted to capture their movement, their colour palette, the expression, and the way Gavin would always catch sight of that sparkle in his lovely mismatched eyes before he put his mask on for a job drove him up the wall.
Ryan had utterly wrecked him.
And Gavin couldn’t even get past the awkward crush stage to move any farther forward because bloody Ryan wouldn’t bloody open up about himself.
God if he could just get him to talk about himself somehow he might be able to get over this feeling, but with Ryan’s reluctance to talk about his time before the Fakes it seemed bloody impossible that Gavin would ever get rid of the feelings of butterflies in his stomach whenever he caught sight of Ryan doing anything.
Gavin had always loved a good chase, it was always good fun to flex his skill with words and try his hand at a more difficult conquest, but Ryan frustrated him deeply. He dropped hints, he asked blatant questions, he made implications and innuendos and vague references, and Ryan either didn’t notice, or didn’t care, because no matter how hard Gavin prodded Ryan remained stoic and avoided answering questions with a clever rebuttal or a raise of his somehow perfect blond brows, or by hiding his reluctance in a sip of Diet Coke.
Gavin knew only a small handful of things about him;
- Ryan was his middle name, and he refused to answer to James.
- He grew up in Georgia
- He was a crack shot with just about any weapon handed to him
- He laughed like a bloody idiot and the harder he laughed the weaker Gavin got in the knees
- He had some sort of bizarre need to house plants in his room, a small hobby Gavin had discovered by accident when he’d been sent to fetch him for dinner one evening only to find his door ajar, and Ryan not in his room. He hadn’t snooped per say, but Ryan did have several potted succulents littered across his desk that he could see from the open doorway.
- He was an utter madman when it came to the lives of the rest of the crew, Ryan would rather die than see another member hurt during a heist, and so help him God if he knew who had fired the shot, or inflicted the injury, their last vision would be the Vagabond dropping upon them like an avenging angel.
And that was all. Only a few solid things and a head full of distracting speculations about who or what Ryan held hidden deep inside a vault in his own mind.
And no matter how hard Gavin tried, no matter how much he pestered, it was utterly impossible to get Ryan to give him even an inch.
After several months of what he thought was simply frustration at his questions being avoided, Gavin finally had a realization that it wasn’t simply frustration.
It was pining.
Of course the mystery intrigued him, Ryan was utterly fascinating, but he was also sweet and secretly kind, and the way he always seemed to flub his words around Gavin was oddly endearing. It drove him completely mad once he realized exactly why it was he was so completely fascinated.
He wanted to know more about Ryan because he fancied him like mad and he couldn’t do a single thing about it.
Gavin had never been shy about anything, he reveled in his freedom no matter what that freedom was at any given moment, he was open about any and everything in his life, it was why he dressed the way he did, did things the way he did them, and the way he worked. He had a specific way of doing things in a negotiation, a specific way of moving, of speaking, of using his accent to his advantage, he had grown up posh and while he often didn’t speak with a ‘posh’ accent anymore it came in handy in jobs, it made him seem more threatening, more powerful, more controlled.
And, of course, with the Vagabond towering behind him with his mask on and his arms crossed it was as if he had the whole world in the palm of his hand. A captive audience was something Gavin relished, and with Ryan playing his enforcer and his getaway driver, Gavin had everything to his advantage for a flawless job.
And knowing this, along with his utter infatuation, Gavin made it a point to take Ryan along with him on his jobs. Ryan, of course, was a formidable enforcer, he played the role well, he was so tall and well built that even if he were unarmed, and he rarely ever was outside the penthouse, he would have been too much of a threat for any sane person to take on, and he did also have the tendency to over threaten for the safety of the crew, if anyone were to try anything that could lead to Gavin being hurt on the job, Ryan would step closer, tower behind Gavin, a hand at the pistol on his hip, a quiet threat that if the other didn’t back down and back away they would never leave their meeting place. It nearly always made for a rather successful deal when the Vagabond got protective.
However, things occasionally didn’t go quite to plan, newer gangs who didn’t believe the Vagabond’s reputation, didn’t respect that Fake AH Crew’s ownership of the city, cocky new recruits who somehow thought they’d be a faster draw than a seasoned mercenary like the Vagabond, and it did get them in trouble on more than one occasion. Usually on behalf of the other side, someone would try to pull a weapon on Gavin and before they could cock the gun or pull a trigger Ryan’s pistol would be out of it’s holster and there’d be a bullet between the other man’s eyes without so much as a Ryan’s gun snagging on the snap of his holster.
But occasionally, very occasionally, the other person may be able to land a shot or a knife on one of them, and usually it was Ryan, he would move in front of Gavin quick as lightning and take whatever had been aimed at Gavin himself, shielding him with his own body without even a second thought. Ryan wore a Kevlar vest he’d somehow gotten a hold of at some point in his career, and was typically unscathed from an encounter like that, and it just served to build his reputation, his bulky leather jacket, and loose t-shirts served to hide the vest easily, and made many a naïve enemy fear a somehow invincible Vagabond.
But Gavin didn’t wear body armor to small jobs, it was too visible beneath the clingy silks and cottons of his well-tailored button-ups, bulky in a way that distorted his thin frame too obviously to gain the trust of someone unfamiliar with them who would likely assume that Gavin distrusted them, and may possibly lead them to make good on that distrust.
And it was that choice that ended up getting Gavin hurt.
-
It was a simple job, a meetup over some disturbed turf downtown. A new crew was trying to move in on some of their territory that, seemingly unknown to this crew, belonged to the Fakes, like much of Los Santos did, but they were new, relatively small, and Geoff was willing to give them the benefit of the doubt, so he sent Gavin and Ryan in to speak to a higher up on his behalf.
It should have been textbook.
But this gang was far too ambitious for their size. Too cocky, too inexperienced, too new to Los Santos to know to tamper down their ambition. The Fake AH Crew owned nearly the whole city, and the few places they didn’t own belonged to their allies, and the fact that this gang thought they could move in and take over was utterly laughable.
But not only was their overconfidence their own downfall, it was nearly Gavin’s as well.
It was a simple meeting that went to hell in a handbasket in less than ten minutes.
Gavin and Ryan had arrived early, five minutes or so before the agreed meeting time. The other side were ten minutes late and couldn’t have cared less how disrespectful that was; the Fakes had better things to do than have the Golden Boy waste his damn time on an Icarus-esque gang leader, flying far too close to the sun that was the Fakes. And when they finally decided to show up Gavin was getting ansty, he was angry beneath the surface, he didn’t like people who couldn’t keep their schedules straight, it was disrespectful and Gavin hated to be disrespected.
“Thanks for joining us” he said pointedly, keeping his voice steady and as casual as he could, able to force down his anger for the good of the deal.
“Sorry, traffic” said his counter-part, Gavin thought his name was something like Laurier, he couldn’t remember exactly, sounding flippant. The flip tone made Gavin’s blood boil. How bloody dare he waste their time, and then act like it wasn’t a problem.
“Well, now that we’re all here, let’s get down to business” Gavin said, moving towards his counter-part, hands casually shoved in his pockets, trying to keep his posture relaxed despite his bitten-back anger. He heard the heavy movement of Ryan’s boots behind him and knew he had stepped up as well, keeping his presence visible, and himself nearby. That set Gavin on edge, clearly Ryan had picked up on something Gavin hadn’t quite gotten yet, and that was a bad thing. If Ryan was picking up on something he felt the need to protect Gavin over this early into it that meant things were likely to go bad fast.
“What’s the point?” Laurier asked, giving Gavin a once over, taking in the carefully crafted demeanor of the Golden Boy, his button-up, his plain dark jeans with their knee rips, the carefully styled hair and sunglasses.
“The point is you don’t get to wander into this city with your thumb in your arse and think you can move in on our territory” Gavin replied, venom in his voice “Do you know how long we’ve been here? This is our damn city, and we’ll thank you to get the hell out” he said, his heart racing, he was angry as it was, but to have received such a careless reply in the face of a blatant disrespect of their territory and their gang made him all the angrier. His demeanor was calm, but underneath his rage was just palpable enough the he heard Ryan take another step forward, could feel him towering over him, just behind his right shoulder.
“If you’ve been here that long sounds like it may be time for new blood” the other man said, smirking at him, taking a step forward of his own, trying to square up to Gavin, though he was considerably shorter.
Gavin was about to reply when a loud bang rang out through the small room and something hot and fast ripped across his side and sent him spinning, his knees hit the floor, and he managed to catch himself with his hands before his face smashed down, and behind him several shots rang out and he could hear his counter-part begging through a loud ringing in his ears, and then there was another shot, and everything fell silent.
His heart was racing, and it took a long moment to register the searing pain in his side, it was hot, like burning your hand on a hot pan, and it took pressing his hand to his side, feeling the tear in his shirt, and the warm ooze of his blood to really understand that he had been shot.
“Ryan” he managed to croak out, surprised at how weak his voice sounded, he didn’t feel weak, he felt almost okay, aside from the burning pain in his side, which lessened slightly as he pressed his hand harder against it.
In an instant Ryan was at his side, on his knees, he’d ripped his mask off and his lovely mismatched eyes were frantic as he searched Gavin over, trying to see what had happened, when he noticed the blood staining Gavin’s shirt his face went pale beneath his face paint.
“Shit” he gasped out, and without a second thought he reached up and started tearing off the bottom of his shirt, Gavin tried to protest, but couldn’t seem to find his voice, Ryan liked that shirt a lot, it was a soft plain black cotton one Gavin had gotten him for Christmas as an apology for ruining another one on a heist, but Ryan didn’t even hesitate as he ripped off a thick length of it, tearing at it with the knife he always kept on him, to wrap around Gavin’s waist to put pressure on the wound. Gavin shouldn’t have been as surprised as he was that Ryan was adept at bandaging, he had learned from Jack after all, for the cases when she was wounded and couldn’t do it herself.
It was as Ryan was binding the end of his shirt under his opposite arm that he realized he was speaking.
Shock. Of course, it was shock, there was no escaping a bullet wound without going into shock.
“I’m so sorry Gavin, it was my fault, my fault” he kept muttering, his voice rough, over and over again “It was my fault, my fault” as he helped Gavin up and unceremoniously pulled him up into his arms and carried him back out to their car. Once outside he set him down on the passenger seat and buckled him in, and Gavin though distantly how mad Geoff would be that they’d have to get the seats reupholstered because he’d stain them with blood.
Gavin was in and out of lucidity the whole drive, he knew instinctually that he wasn’t going to die, he could tell the wound wasn’t terribly deep, but it had bit through enough of his side that the blood loss was somewhat worrying, but Jack would fix it, it would be fine.
And when they got to the penthouse, Gavin fully passed out, the only thing that broke through the darkness was Ryan’s voice mumbling to him, but he couldn’t make out what it was.
-
He woke up hours later, feeling fuzzy and sore, the shock and adrenaline of earlier had worn off entirely, and he simply felt exhausted and uncomfortable, his side throbbed painfully with the beat of his heart, and his head felt almost floaty, likely from the blood loss.
It took him a moment to register voices outside the door, hushed and concerned, he could make out Geoff and Ryan, and a third, quieter, voice that he wasn’t as sure of.
“What happened back there Ryan?” Geoff didn’t sound mad, just concerned.
“The other guys, they had a guy with a long range gun outside the door, he was outside my line of sight, I didn’t see him, I shoulda fucking seen him” Ryan’s voice was frustrated, upset, far more emotional than usual “I had one fucking job and I failed it”
“It happens Ryan” said the other voice, and Gavin finally registered Jack’s soft bedside tone, trying to calm him “We’ve all gotten hurt on jobs, no matter the backup we had, it happens”
“It shouldn’t have. I’m an enforcer, it’s my fucking job it’s supposed to be what I’m fucking good at!” Gavin didn’t like the way Ryan sounded, his voice broke in a few places, and he sounded utterly distraught. It bothered Gavin that it was his fault that Ryan was so upset.
“He’s going to be just fine Ryan” Jack soothed, and Gavin could almost see her place a hand on his arm in his mind’s eye “Things happen, I’ve gotten hurt too, even when I had backup, Michael missed a gun once too and it caught my thigh, these things happen, the important thing is that you’re both okay”
“But he’s not fucking okay!” Ryan’s voice rose abruptly, and Gavin was surprised to hear that he sounded almost genuinely choked up “He needed fifteen stitches! He lost way too much blood, he looked like he was gonna fucking die Jack! He’s not fucking okay!”
“But he is Ryan” Geoff argued back “You did the right thing and got him back here fast and he’s gonna be just fine, he might be out of it for a couple days, and maybe we need to make a rule about body armour, but he’ll live”
“He’s going to hate me” Ryan replied, and this time his voice was almost flat, as if he were forcing the emotion out of it.
“No he won’t Ryan” Jack soothed “Michael beats him about the head nearly every day and he doesn’t hate him”
“That’s different” Ryan shot back “Michael does that himself, as a joke, I didn’t hurt him, I let him get hurt when it should’ve been me, I had the vest on, I should have caught the bullet, I should have seen the guy, I could have kept him safe and I fucking didn’t, and he’s going to fucking hate me because I couldn’t do my only fucking job!”
Gavin was struggling to follow what was happening at this point, the painkillers still in his system threatening to drag him back down into sleep at any moment, but he needed to resist it, he needed to stay awake, just a little longer, he needed to tell Ryan that it was okay, it was an accident, accidents happen to everyone, they happened to him all the time, nearly every day. But he was fading fast, and no matter how hard he clawed at consciousness it was keeping itself just out of his arms reach, just far enough away that he still tried to scramble for it.
But it just wasn’t going to happen, and he crashed again.
-
The next time he woke up soft morning sunshine was filtering in through the partially open curtains of his bedroom windows. He didn’t feel quite as fuzzy in the head this time, but his side still ached badly, almost enough to overwhelm his still partially asleep mind.
He closed his eyes again, and took a few deep breaths to center himself and push the pain off, and opened them again, taking in the room without the pain blacking out the edges of his vision.
It was still early, the sunlight filtering in was soft and the orange-yellow of sunrise, not yet strong enough to brighten out to a more white-yellow, but not quite early enough that it was still that before-sunrise sort of mid-grey. The room around him was cool, that was how he liked it, he still wasn’t used to the California heat after so many years in chilly, drizzly England.
Jack’s medical bag was on his bedside table, a small pile of extra suture thread and needles needing to be sterilized sat on the table next to it, awaiting tidying after what was likely a rather frantic stitch job. The other debris had been cleared away, there were no clothes left anywhere from cleaning the wound, and Ryan’s makeshift bandage was gone as well, in favour of a proper cotton bandage from Jack’s kit.
And in his comfy nest of a window seat sat Ryan. His head leaned back against the wall of the window sill, and his tall frame was cramped up on it, knees bent so that he could get his feet up onto the seat to try and get comfortable while Gavin had slept. He was rumpled, still wearing his ripped shirt and Kevlar – and Gavin could see where part of his shirt had crusted with his own blood from when Ryan had carried him – his hair was still pulled back in his ponytail, though it had clearly been disturbed because it was looser than Gavin remembered it, and he had yet to take any of his face paint off.
“I guess I owe you another shirt” he said, his voice somewhat hoarse, mostly from sleep, and Ryan’s head whipped up, his eyes wild. There was a moment of pause on Ryan’s part, the largest deer in headlights Gavin had ever seen, before he said anything. His eyes met Gavin’s for just a moment and then flicked down away from his face, looking ashamed.
“You don’t owe me anything” he replied after a moment, his voice flat.
“No, I do, I ruined another one of your shirts, and I owe you a new one” he said, pushing himself up on his elbow, turning to look at him fully “I owe you a t-shirt”
“Gavin you almost died, you don’t owe me shit” Ryan said, and this time Gavin heard a break in his voice, that he tried to hide.
“I would have if you hadn’t been there” Gavin said seriously “You saved me with that shirt, so I owe you a new one” he said through gritted teeth, he wasn’t going to let Ryan get away with this ‘my fault’ shit, it wasn’t his fault, it was no one’s fault.
“I shouldn’t have had to” Ryan replied, his voice tight “I had the vest on, I should have seen him, I should have taken the bullet, and I didn’t”
“Ryan, accidents happen, it’s no one’s fault except the other crew, Ryan! You didn’t do anything wrong, you did the best you could with what happened, and it kept me damn alive Ryan!” he said, his voice rising, he couldn’t stand the thought that Ryan would rather have been hurt.
Slowly, Ryan unfolded himself from the window seat and stood, walking slowly over to the bed, unsteady on his feet from a long period sitting in an uncomfortable position.
“Gavin, it’s my job to keep you safe during meetings like that, it’s why I’m there, I’m crowd control, I’m an enforcer”
“You’re my backup” Gavin said, interrupting him “And backup isn’t all knowing, you did exactly what Michael or Geoff or Jeremy would’ve done in that situation, you bound the wound and got me home so Jack could fix it. You did your damn job Ryan, your job is to make sure I bloody live when something like that happens, and I did” It made his heart ache that Ryan had clearly taken all the blame on his own shoulders “I had a clearer view of the door than you did, but I was so angry at their tardiness and their disrespect that I didn’t see it coming either” he sighed heavily, rubbing his hands over his face “It was neither of our faults, but it was especially not yours.”
There was a long pause after Gavin finished speaking, and he could see Ryan mulling over his words, and truly he looked lovely in the weak morning sunlight, the pensive look on his face scrunched his blonde brows together in thought, his lovely mismatched eyes dark, hard for a moment before slowly softening, blond hair glimmering in the soft morning like that filtered into the room. If Gavin hadn’t already been short on breath from the pain he may have stopped breathing from how gorgeous the sight before him was.
“Still” Ryan said slowly “I should have done something” Gavin watched him slowly close his eyes, rubbing has hands over his face “It was still my fault Gav”
“No it wasn’t, it wasn’t your fault, if anyone’s in was my own, I don’t wear body armor, everyone knows I don’t, they took advantage of my own tactics and used it against us” Ryan looked like he was about to argue but Gavin raised a hand, suddenly exhausted “I don’t want to argue with you Ryan, I’m tired and sore, and you know I can out argue you any day of the week with enough energy, so can we please call it quits?” he asked, straining to keep his eyes open.
Ryan nodded slowly, clearly eager to give Gavin what he wanted, or at least to let him rest.
“I’ll go if you want to go back to sleep” he mumbled, moving to stand from the bed. Gavin shook his head and reached out, gently grabbing at Ryan’s hand, pulling him back.
“Please, stay?” Gavin asked quietly, he didn’t want Ryan to leave, too scared that if he did Ryan may never speak to him again.
“Okay” he said after a long pause, and pulled his hand out of Gavin’s, going to sit back in the window seat.
“You can sleep too if you want” Gavin offered, scooting over as much as the pain in his side would allow to give Ryan a bit of extra space on his bed. Ryan hesitated for a moment, clearly torn, but upon seeing the open, earnest, nervous look in Gavin’s eyes, he watched him steel his resolve, and return to the bed, kicking off his boots and sitting down on the other side of Gavin’s king bed.
When Ryan finally managed to get himself comfortable he carefully slipped his legs under the comforter on Gavin’s bed, and leaned back against the pillows, still mostly seated. Gavin slowly shifted closer to him, using his exhaustion as an excuse, he laid his head gently against Ryan’s stomach, closed his eyes, and fell asleep.
-
When he woke up again it was much later in the morning, the light streaming through his partially open curtains was brighter, and before he had time to take everything in his door was creaking open slowly, and Jack peaked her head in, smiling a little when she saw he was awake.
“Hey sweetie” she said, sliding into the room on quiet feet, her grin wide as she took in the sight before her. It was then that Gavin registered the warm arm, heavy on his waist, large hand lightly grasping the opposite side of his waist, holding him close, his head lightly pillowed just below Ryan’s shoulder, his chest rising and falling slowly, still asleep. Gavin flushed, his face getting hot, and likely going rather pink, but Jack bade him no mind and bustled into the room, snapping on a pair of gloves.
“If you can pull yourself out of there I’d like to check your bullet wound” she said, her voice quiet and teasing, not wanting to wake Ryan. Slowly, Gavin managed to wiggle out from Ryan’s grasp, and slid to the side of the bed. Jack knelt slightly and gently peeled back the bandage on his side, He watched as she gently probed and prodded around the stitches along his side, just slightly above his hip, it wasn’t a terribly deep wound, but it was long, spanning at least six inches, starting an inch to the right of his navel.
“Looks alright so far” she said as she gently checked it over “Bleeding stopped pretty easily, and it doesn’t look inflamed all things considered” she smiled, pleased with her own work, and pulled an alcohol swab out of her med bag, gently cleaning the wound before recovering it “I doubt it’ll even leave much of a scar”
“Well you do know what you’re doing Jack” he said, his voice echoing her teasing tone from earlier.
“That I do, darlin, that I do” she smiled and pushed herself back to her feet, gently squeezing his shoulder.
There was a short pause between them as Jack looked over Ryan where he lay on the bed, flat on his back, the arm that had been wrapped around Gavin flung out across the bed, seeming to search for him even as he slept.
“He was worried about you sweetpea” Jack said softly, gently stroking Gavin’s hair out of his face “He couldn’t stop blaming himself for what happened, no matter what we said” she sighed softly, shaking her head “He’s got far too big a heart for someone in this profession” she let out a short huff of laughter “But then again, I’d say that for all five of you boys”
“I’d say the same for you Jack” Gavin replied, smiling.
“Thank you honey” she replied, smiling “Be careful with him, okay, Gav? I’m not sure even he understands how much he cares about you” she said, and leaned down to kiss the top of his head lightly, and Gavin felt the warmth of her love in the pit of his stomach.
“I’m sorry I scared you guys” he said softly as Jack helped him to lean back against his headboard “It was stupid of me to let that happen”
“We all make mistakes Gavin” she said gently “They’re bound to happen, and considering over the course of five years this is the first time you’ve been shot on a negotiation job and you’ve never worn body armour in your life, I’d say it could have been much worse” she smiled, running her fingers through her hair “I think maybe the person you should apologize to is Ryan, he was scared half to death that you wouldn’t pull through” Gavin nodded slightly, and glanced over at Ryan, closing his fingers around Ryan’s outstretched fingers.
“I will” he said. Jack nodded slightly, and went to leave, but paused at the door.
“Don’t get your stitches wet, and don’t get out of bed on your own” she said, her voice taking on that familiar no-nonsense tone Gavin knew far too well “You lost too much blood to be without help right now. Ryan can help you when he wakes up.” She said, and winked at him before she left, grinning in a way that made Gavin’s face hot.
The door closed quietly behind her, and Gavin was left in his quiet room, fully awake, with a sleeping Vagabond taking up a rather large amount of his bed.
And no goddamn idea what to do about it.