Chapter Text
"We have a problem."
With a calm expression, Ryan looked up from the pistol he was cleaning. Geoff, leader of the Fake AH crew, stood a metre or so from him, arms folded and looking incredibly serious despite the almost comical handlebar moustache that dominated his face.
Ryan put the gun down.
"What is it?" he asked idly, leaning back on the crate he was perched upon, broad shoulders touching the wall. "Is the RT crew trying to encroach on our turf again?" A small smile played across his lips at the prospect of potential violent retribution.
"No, it's… an internal thing."
Ryan's interest was piqued and he sat forward again, leather jacket creaking. "Oh? What's the issue?"
"Gavin," he said, and Ryan scowled immediately, picking up the gun again.
"What's that little shit up to now?"
"That's just the thing." Geoff tucked his hands into the pockets of his slacks. "He's good at what he does - damn best I've ever met - but he's so fucking full of himself, I know none of the crew, you included, can stand it." He snorted. "And that's something I can drink to. I need someone to scare some goddamn respect into the kid, and you're by far the scariest motherfucker around."
Ryan silently raised an eyebrow at him.
Geoff rolled his eyes. "Don't act like you don't love that reputation."
"Oh, I'm not denying it. I just always enjoy it when you acknowledge the fact." He grinned suddenly, canines flashing. "Gives me the warm fuzzies."
"So are you in?"
Ryan swiped a rag down the barrel's length. "Yeah, I can knock him down a couple pegs."
The older man relaxed. "Good to hear. Just don't… maim him, or kill him, okay? I still want him to be able to do his job. Don't break his fingers or anything, he needs those."
"Duly noted, Boss." Ryan saluted him mockingly, gun still in hand.
"And the sooner you can get this done, the better."
Ryan set the gun down and packed away the cleaning equipment before scooping it up once more, checking that it was appropriately loaded then tucking it into his waistband. He stood. "Already on it."
Geoff nodded with a smile. "Good to hear," he repeated, and sauntered out of the room.
Ryan turned in the opposite direction, heading for the room dedicated to their technological hardware. As the resident computer whiz, this was Gavin's domain, and as such was the most likely place the Brit would be.
He opened the door, and sure enough, Gavin was perched in a chair in front of several monitors, his seating position looking exactly nothing like proper posture dictated it should.
The Brit made no acknowledgement that he'd noticed the older man's arrival, even when Ryan moved further into the room, leaning against the desk next to the Brit.
"Hey, Gavin," he greeted. Gavin grunted in reply. Ryan scowled briefly, then continued, "I need your help with something. D'you have a moment?"
Gavin typed lazily with one hand, feet up on the desk and eyes not once flicking away from the screen. "Nope. I'm too busy." He continued his leisurely typing, clearly not actually doing anything productive.
Ryan gritted his teeth, deciding to give Gavin one last chance to not be a self-serving dick. Normally he wouldn't make such concessions, but despite everything he did have the slightest of soft spots for the Brit. He had to admit that it likely had a great deal to do with the fact that, once he'd discounted the younger man's distasteful attitude, he found Gavin physically attractive - all long, tanned limbs and wild golden-brown hair and mischievous green eyes. It would be a shame to ruin any potential there, but the younger man's personality was becoming increasingly unbearable, and it was pushing Ryan to the brink. The older man sighed almost imperceptibly. "It's important. I'd really appreciate your help, Gavin."
Gavin's nose wrinkled as he tapped lackadaisically at the keyboard, one finger at a time, seeming to make the keys clack extra loud for no other reason than because it obviously irritated Ryan. "Nah," he said off-handedly, still not even having the decency to look in Ryan's direction as he talked to him.
Ryan's careworn patience snapped.
Without a word, he pulled out his gun and jammed it against the back of Gavin's neck. "Jesus!" Gavin nearly toppled from his chair in his shock, voice suddenly high and squawky. "Bloody hell, what're you doing?"
"Get up," Ryan ordered. Gavin complied very quickly.
"Have you gone mental?" His voice shook, trying to cringe away from the cold muzzle of the gun. "What is this?"
Ryan ignored him. "Walk."
"Geoff's going to go ballistic when he finds out you threatened me," he warned weakly as Ryan marched him out of the room.
The older man let out a chuckle at this. Gavin did not find the sound comforting in the slightest. His knees trembled as Ryan steered them towards a nearby supply closet.
"Who the hell do you think asked me to do this?" Ryan replied, pushing Gavin inside and closing the door behind them, the gun still against the back of the younger man's neck. Ryan reached for Gavin's shoulder and spun him around, allowing him to see the terrified confusion on the Brit's face.
"W-What?"
"I'm not sure that you've noticed, Gavin, but you are a singularly insufferable human being," Ryan's tone was sardonic. "You act like you're better and more important than everyone around you, when you really aren't. Geoff asked me to rectify that attitude." He levelled the gun at Gavin's forehead, and the Brit backed further into the closet. "By any means necessary. I will shoot you if it comes down to it."
"I-I don't believe you," Gavin said, sounding like he was trying to convince himself more than Ryan. "I'm too valuable for you guys to lose. I bet it's not even- I bet you've unloaded it." And he even began to sound a little more confident, his usual brazen arrogance reasserting itself.
Ryan resisted the urge to roll his eyes. Instead, he let out a short, menacing growl, whipping the gun up so that it pointed at the ceiling, then squeezed the trigger. Gavin started and squeaked at the sudden sound of a gun going off in a confined space, face ashen as a small trickle of dust drifted down from the new hole in the ceiling.
"Don't fucking test me." Ryan bit the words out, bringing the gun down so that Gavin was once again staring down the barrel. It was so close to his face that he could feel the heat of its recent discharge, the level of warmth something that would have actually been quite pleasant if it weren't directly related to an object designed to kill.
Gavin's resolve shattered immediately.
"I'm sorry," he whimpered, not really knowing what in particular he was apologising for, but feeling it was probably prudent to do so anyway.
Ryan's free hand fell heavily on his shoulder, pressing down, and Gavin flinched, allowing himself to be forced to his knees. He ducked his head in submission, whining pathetically when the barrel of the pistol slipped under his chin, still uncomfortably warm as it tipped his head back up, forcing him to meet Ryan's cold blue eyes.
"I am only going to say this once," Ryan enunciated slowly, carefully, so that there would be no mistake. "Granted, you are a very talented individual; you're highly intelligent and we wouldn't have been able to pull off half the heists we have since you joined without your help." His eyes turned icy at the way Gavin preened at the words despite the gun tucked under his chin, and he jerked his hand, pressing the barrel more firmly against Gavin's throat. The sight scraped over the younger man's skin, tearing slightly. Blood beaded across the small laceration, and the self-satisfied expression that had started to form on the Brit's face vanished.
"But." Ryan continued forcefully, "That intelligence doesn't seem to be tempered by any measurable amount of wisdom. You are the most infuriatingly egotistical person I've ever had the displeasure of meeting, and all the talent in the world is never going to make up for the fact that everyone else in the crew - myself obviously included - wants to rip out your goddamn throat every time you open that pompous mouth of yours." He fisted his free hand in Gavin's forelock, pushing the Brit's head back further and exposing more of his tanned throat to the still-warm metal kiss of the muzzle. Gavin whined again, swallowing convulsively as he locked eyes with Ryan. His hands twitched like they wanted to reach up and try to wrest the gun from Ryan's grip, but he was too paralysed to actually act on the desire.
"Let me make this abundantly clear for you," Ryan said, holding Gavin firmly in place. "If you continue to act like we should be worshipping the ground you walk on, like you're doing us some huge favour every time you do something that's part of your fucking job, very soon one of us will get fed up with you and decide you're more trouble than you're worth. And the way things are going, it's probably going to be me. Is that understood?"
"Got it," Gavin croaked, voice cracking as Ryan let the gun trail lower, pushing against the hollow of Gavin's throat.
Suddenly, Ryan became acutely aware of the way Gavin's throat bobbed underneath the metal pressed against it, breath hitching and lips parted, tongue darting out to moisten them despite the way they already glistened wetly, invitingly. His eyes, still transfixed by Ryan's, were dilated with more than just fear, Ryan realised.
…Well. Wasn't that a lovely surprise.
Originally, he'd intended to simply rough the Brit up a little - as per Geoff's orders, he couldn't go all out like he usually did. But this… This could be fun.
His grin was wolfish.
"Do you really?" he practically purred, barrel tracing up the line of Gavin's neck, far gentler than before. The Brit sucked in a small gasp of air. His eyelids fluttered slightly, and Ryan's grin grew wider, his suspicions entirely vindicated. "Or am I going to have to give you a proper lesson in humility?" He trailed the muzzle softly along the line of Gavin's jaw before letting it come to rest by the side of his mouth, intent clear. Then he pulled back slightly, still keeping a firm grip in Gavin's hair.
The Brit remained silent, holding his breath.
"The way I see it," Ryan told him, voice almost a drawl, "you have a few options here. Number one is that you ask me, very nicely, to let you leave, and swear to me that all your arrogant bullshit is a thing of the past." His grip tightened a little. "But know that if you choose this, and go back on your word, then you'll just end up right here again. And trust me, I will be much less friendly if that happens." His face held its serious lines for a few seconds, then softened, lips curling briefly at the corners. "Option two, you let me do what you clearly want me to do. If you say no and go with option one, I promise I'll let you go. I may be many things, but I would never force you against your will." He looked deep into Gavin's eyes, ensuring the younger man understood and believed him, then continued. "If you do choose to leave, though, that's it. This is a one-time only offer, Gavin. You leave and you will never know what you missed out on." He shifted again, gently but firmly pressing the gun against the corner of Gavin's mouth once more, and waited for his answer.
There was a beat of silence, of stillness, a chance for Gavin to baulk at what Ryan was proposing, to beg to be allowed to leave the room with the promise that he'd be less of an asshole in the future.
Instead, he slowly dragged his tongue over his lips once more, leaving them shining and parted, mouthing just a little at the edge of the barrel. Ryan took the action as an obvious invitation, and twisted the gun sideways, pushing it into Gavin's mouth. Gavin's lips parted easily, letting the barrel slide between his teeth. Not wanting to chip them, Ryan eased the gun in gently, hand remaining steady.
Gavin grimaced at the taste of gunpowder and metal on his tongue, but Ryan wasn't pushing the pistol deep enough in his throat to set off his hair-trigger gag reflex. Ryan's other hand was still curled firmly in Gavin's hair, and he guided Gavin through a bobbing motion, the Brit's lips easily, smoothly gliding along the barrel's length.
There was a small part of Gavin's mind that was alarmed at how quickly things had developed, and started to worry that maybe he'd made a mistake. That tiny voice pointed out that it possibly wasn't the best idea to let his mouth be used like this, even if he could feel the enjoyment it was giving him starting to stir in his pants.
It's a gun, a loaded gun, there's a bloody loaded gun in your mouth stop being so aroused you idiot!
He looked up at Ryan and continued to suck.
A satisfied smile settled on the older man's lips, blue eyes dark. "Yeah, you're much better like this."
And that was enough. Gavin moaned quietly, the barrel warm and wide and heavy on his tongue. He wondered how Ryan's cock compared.
The thought made him moan again.
Slowly, so as not to tear the inside of Gavin's mouth with the sight, Ryan pulled the gun away. The younger man whined and tried to follow it, making Ryan chuckle.
Gavin looked up at him pitifully, lips red and loose, hands gripping at the denim of his skinny jeans. The Brit cursed himself for always wearing such tight pants - his erection wasn't even at full mast yet, but it was already pressing painfully against the zipper. Ryan seemed to notice this, smirking as he dragged the muzzle lightly along the younger man's jawline. The spit coating the barrel left a cold, wet trail on Gavin's skin, making him shiver, goosebumps springing up on his skin. The gun traced its way down his neck, and he moaned once more, earning him another of Ryan's sharp grins.
Suddenly, he was being hauled to his feet, and for a brief second, he panicked, thinking he'd done something wrong. Then Ryan was pressing him against the wall with his gun, with his body, their mouths crashing together. Ryan pushed his tongue between Gavin's lips and Gavin let him. The taste of metal and gunpowder in his mouth gradually faded, replaced with Ryan's undeniable masculinity. Gavin whined, feeling himself twitch and strain painfully against the confines of his jeans. He let out a broken moan when Ryan rolled their hips against one another, his own arousal evident.
Then the gun began to dip, ever so slowly, down the side of Gavin's throat, bumping gently over his collarbone, scraping over the thin material of the front of his shirt, metal clicking over plastic buttons.
Gavin's pulse got faster the closer the pistol got to his crotch. His hands itched to roam across Ryan's broad chest, his muscled shoulders, his firm back, to tear off his leather jacket and plain black t-shirt and feel the warmth of bare skin. Somehow, though, with the gun so achingly close to the bulge in his jeans, Gavin thought such actions would not be appreciated at that exact moment in time. Instead, he kept his hands clawed against the wall, breathing hard and fast with his bottom lip between his teeth.
He let out all manner of needy, lustful sounds as the barrel slipped between his legs and pressed insistently against the front of his pants. His hips jittered forward involuntarily, and Ryan rubbed the gun against him, slow rolling circles that brought the younger man to full hardness. Ryan nipped at his lips and Gavin mewled into his mouth.
"Ryan, please," he whimpered. "Please, I-I want- I need-" He cut himself off with a groan as Ryan's mouth suddenly dropped to his neck and sucked a dark, prominent mark there, simultaneously pressing the gun a little harder against him.
"What is it, Gavin?" Ryan asked mockingly. "You seem to love running your mouth, why don't you tell me what you want?"
His cheeks burned with colour. "Ryan, please," he whined again, not wanting to say it outright, not sure if he still had the ability to articulate a proper answer.
The older man tutted at him, breath ghosting along Gavin's skin. "At least you're being far more polite now," he mused, then stepped back. "Why don't you take off your clothes and see if I can't figure out what it is you want, hm?"
Gavin blinked and stared, mind sluggish and overloaded with arousal.
Clarity came in the form of the gun being jammed under his chin once more.
"Clothes. Off. Now."
He didn't need to be told a third time. Ryan pulled back to give him space, and he practically tore at his own clothes, kicking off shoes and socks as his fingers fumbled with the buttons on his shirt. The sleeves slipped over his arms, and his hands didn't even hesitate before they were reaching for his belt, discarding it with a slithering clink. The vibration that travelled along the length of Gavin's cock as he undid his zipper made the Brit keen softly before he shoved his jeans down his thighs, boxers caught up in the form-hugging denim. He pushed his pants down further, then stepped out of them, standing entirely naked and completely hard.
Ryan's pupils were blown with lust, smirking at the way Gavin was so desperately presenting himself to the older man.
"If I'd known you'd be like this, I would have done something about you months ago," he murmured, stepping in close again and pressing the barrel against Gavin's cock, the front sight nestled against the sensitive spot just in front of his balls. The metal had started to cool a little, but Gavin still felt himself get harder, gasping and twitching slightly at the unexpected touch. Ryan rolled the gun in small circles once more, and Gavin whined, eyes closed and neck exposed as his head rolled listlessly to the side. Precome dribbled from the head of his cock, sliding down the side of the barrel to drip from the muzzle.
Gavin's fingertips gripped at the wall so hard his nails almost started to tear and bleed. Before this could happen, however, Ryan added a few more hickeys to Gavin's tantalisingly bared neck, whispering, "I want you on your hands and knees."
This time, the younger man's response was immediate. As soon as Ryan gave him the space to do so, he pushed away from the wall and dropped to his knees, scraping them slightly in his haste. He placed his hands on the ground, stretched above his head, ass shoved into the air. "Good boy," Ryan murmured approvingly, chuckling when Gavin whimpered. He marvelled at the change that had come over the usually painfully arrogant Brit, from just a few words and actions. When he thought about it, though, it didn't really surprise him. After all, everyone in their line of work had to get off on danger to some degree. With the way Gavin antagonised everyone in his workplace - especially in a workplace like theirs - he had just been asking for something to happen. Everyone had buttons to be pressed, it was just a matter of finding them.
Ryan had always been very good at that.
He collected Gavin's belt from the floor, looping it between his hands. The Brit twisted, trying to keep Ryan on his line of sight, but returned to staring at the floor when Ryan made a sound of disapproval. His body shook with the desire to watch what the older man was doing, and he gasped when Ryan suddenly hunkered down beside him, trailing calloused fingers over Gavin's forearms. Ryan's free hand gripped briefly at his wrists before his own belt was being slipped over them, tightened in a series of deft loops and knots. Gavin couldn't resist giving it a slight tug, and wasn't surprised when the knots stayed firm. Ryan tapped the gun warningly against his lower back, and he was quick to prostrate himself once more, legs spread and ass on display.
The older man's other hand splayed against the base of his spine, goosebumps erupting across Gavin's skin as he shivered at the warm touch. Ryan's middle finger rested in the cleft of his ass, so achingly close to his hole that it was almost unbearable. A quiet, keening sound built in Gavin's throat as he trembled with anticipation, pushing his lower back up against the older man's hand.
Ryan was just about to kneel down behind the younger man and start prepping him when his eyes caught on the gun kits stacked on one of the shelves. His smile turned devilish.
"Stay down," he ordered, and Gavin complied with a whimper as Ryan stepped around him, pulling one of the kits from the shelf while still keeping the pistol trained on the Brit. Gavin flinched as Ryan set the case on the floor next to him, whining softly at the way that Ryan was so deliberately being slow in his actions as he flicked open the clasps on the kit. He methodically searched through the contents before finally pulling out a small bottle of gun oil. He looked over at the younger man, eyes meeting his before raking over the swell of the Brit's ass, and grinned.
The moan that escaped Gavin was an utterly shattered sound.
Ryan moved behind him, gun muzzle settling between the Brit's shoulder blades, and he twisted the cap off the gun oil with the thumb and forefinger of his other hand. The cap dropped to the ground with a short series of plastic plinks, rolling away to rest against Gavin's knee. Ryan tipped the bottle slightly over the cleft of Gavin's ass, and the oil slowly poured out over it, some pooling in the dip of his back while the rest slid down over Gavin's entrance, running along the underside of his straining cock before dripping onto the floor. Pressing the gun a little more firmly against the Brit's back, Ryan set the empty bottle to the side and trailed his fingers through the oil collecting along Gavin's spine. Then, he unceremoniously pushed two slicked fingers into Gavin's hole.
The Brit wailed, a fresh stream of precome surging from his slit as he threw his head back, Ryan's fingers working their way into him.
Ryan's movements were unforgiving, and Gavin took them like he'd die without them. Within moments, the older man's fingers were knuckle-deep, easily sliding in and out of Gavin's hole.
"Really should have done this months ago," Ryan muttered as he added a third finger. Gavin mewled and pressed himself backwards, forcing Ryan's fingers into him as deep as he could. He stretched easily, speaking volumes for how eager he was for all of this. Ryan grinned. "You really are coming along beautifully," he praised, then let the gun slowly drift along the curve of Gavin's spine, the oil there aiding its smooth slide. Gavin trembled uncontrollably as the muzzle came to rest in the cleft of his ass, just above where Ryan's fingers entered him.
"Oh god, Ryan, please," he begged, random spasms racking him.
The older man chuckled. "What's that, Gavin?" His voice was low, seductive, and another shudder coursed through Gavin's body. "You want to be fucked by my pistol, is that it? Is that what you want?" Gavin whined, nodding jerkily, and Ryan laughed again. "You know that the sight will hurt you, right? You'll be able to feel it the entire time that my gun is inside you." He paused, considering the younger man. "You don't even care about that, do you?"
"Ryan, please," he pleaded desperately. "I don't care, I can't take it anymore, please just fuck me with your gun, please-" His words cut off in a needy whine as Ryan pressed his fingers deeper, assaulting Gavin's prostate.
"You'll be no good to me if you're too sore for anything afterwards," Ryan told him, fingers circling around the younger man's prostate relentlessly. "How about I prep a special gun, just for you, for next time? I'll file down the sight on it, and I'll fuck you with it as much as you like then. How does that sound?"
Gavin's head swam, not only at the prospect that all this could happen again, but also the fact that Ryan would add a gun to his arsenal that had the specific purpose of pleasuring Gavin. That Ryan would likely make the gun clearly distinguishable from his many others, so that if Gavin saw him carrying it, the Brit would know immediately, and wouldn't be able to stop himself from getting aroused.
Ryan stopped all movement. "Gavin, I'm waiting for an answer."
"God, yes, Ryan, that sounds bloody fantastic, please, just do something-"
He moaned brokenly as Ryan pulled his fingers away, reaching into the gun kit for a rag to wipe his hands on. Gavin's entrance clenched at the air, tightening slightly as Ryan shrugged off his jacket, gun changing hands as he tugged his arms through the sleeves. The leather crumpled to the floor and Ryan worked at his belt, whipping it free and setting it atop his jacket. A moment later his jeans and underwear were midway down his thighs and he was pushing all the way into Gavin's hole, groaning at the tight, wet heat as the younger man wailed and writhed beneath him.
"Fuck, Gavin, you're so good," he growled, pulling out slowly before slamming back in, launching into a brutal rhythm. Gavin's back arched as the gun was shoved against it once more, Ryan's other hand gripping bruisingly tight at his hip. The Brit's arms scraped against the floor at the forcefulness of Ryan's pace, and he moaned, another few drops of precome dripping from the tip of his cock.
The oil made it hard for Ryan to maintain his grip on Gavin's hip, especially with how hard he was thrusting into the younger man. After his hand slipped for the third time, he gave up on keeping himself steady there, and instead grabbed Gavin's hair. The Brit's spine arched further, his mouth open but his mind far beyond supplying him with actual words, as the sharp tug against his scalp set the nerve endings there on fire. A garbled sound of pleasure escaped him, made staccato by Ryan's thrusts. His palms skittered slightly across the ground, scraping them as his fingers curled.
"So good for me," Ryan whispered, and Gavin moaned, the praise sending a warm feeling flooding through his belly. Ryan canted his hips just a little, and the angle changed, making Gavin cry out once more as Ryan now rammed directly into his prostate on every thrust. Gavin felt the sensation start to build impossibly, and knew that he was getting close.
"Ry- gon- pl-" Gavin tried to get the words out, but a combination of Ryan's forceful movements and the overwhelming amount of endorphins flooding him stopped his sentence before it really began.
The older man still managed to figure out what Gavin was attempting to say, and leaned down over Gavin's back, pulling their hips flush before going still. He placed his lips an inch from Gavin's ear, and when he spoke, his voice was low and compelling.
"You don't get to come until I say you do. Is that understood?"
Gavin whimpered, but managed to nod his head, awkwardly because of the grip Ryan still had on his hair.
"Good," he purred, and started to pound into Gavin again, even faster than before. Gavin struggled to hold himself together, feeling like the pleasure was about to make him burst as he did everything he could to hold it at bay until Ryan told him differently. His entire world became focused on the physical sensations, filling him up and barely managing to stop them from overcoming him. Above him, he felt Ryan's pace begin to become erratic, and he bit his lip hard enough to taste blood.
So close. Release was so close.
A quiet, "Fuck," slipped from between Ryan's lips, his head starting to tip back.
"Come for me, Gavin," he whispered, and Gavin screamed as one of the most intense orgasms of his life tore through him, pleasure bombarding him from every angle. He felt Ryan thrust into him a few more times before filling Gavin with heat, letting out a groan of his own. Gavin keened at the sensation, his body coated in oil and sweat as Ryan panted harshly above him, slowly coming down from his high.
The older man pulled out of him with a wet sound, reaching once more for the rag in the gun kit to clean himself off. His come started to leak slowly from Gavin's hole, irregular shudders running through the Brit's body, legs trembling as they threatened to give out entirely.
Ryan stood, doing up his pants and picking up his jacket, shrugging it on.
"Turn around, Gavin."
Gavin straightened up, twisting his torso and shuffling on his knees until he was facing the older man. He gazed up at Ryan with something close to adoration. The endearing expression shifted to worried confusion as Ryan pointed the gun at him again, finger on the trigger. Ryan's face was grim and cold, like it had been when they had first entered the storage room.
Something in the set of the older man's lips hardened, and Gavin cried out, eyes snapping shut and still-bound hands flying up in front of his face in a futile attempt to shield himself from the bullet's path as Ryan's finger tightened on the trigger.
The gun clicked and Gavin dared to crack his eyes open again. Ryan still stood over him, still pointing the gun at him, and laughed, sounding genuinely amused.
"You didn't really think it was loaded this whole time, did you?"
Gavin swallowed dryly, hands dropping. "But-"
"The only bullet that was in this gun is the one currently in the ceiling," Ryan said with a grin, pointing up. The Brit's eyes followed the line of his finger involuntarily, and when he looked back down, Ryan was scooping Gavin's clothes from the ground, gun tucked into his waistband as he headed for the door.
"Wait-" Gavin pleaded, panicked, staggering forward on his knees.
Ryan raised an eyebrow, one hand on the doorframe and the other holding Gavin's clothing under his arm. "I told you I was going to give you a lesson in humility," he said, blue eyes crinkling and sparkling. "If you show me that you've learned from this, I'll be much nicer afterwards the next time this happens."
With one last grin, he slipped out the door and closed it, locking Gavin inside.
Gavin stared at the door.
He was naked and locked up in a supply closet. His body was littered with hickeys and bruises, cuts and scrapes and reddened patches of skin. His ass was sore and sticky with a mixture of gun oil and come, and his hands were tied together with his own belt. His phone was in his pants pocket - pants which were now in Ryan's possession, along with the rest of clothes. The older man had even taken his shoes. His hands were bound in such a way that he wouldn't have been able to unpick the lock even if he'd had the tools for it, so he was basically stuck where he was until either Ryan relented and came back to let him out, or one of the others came in looking for something and found him instead. The way Ryan had grinned at him as he left had Gavin leaning towards the latter.
He couldn't bring himself to regret a single goddamned thing.