#neffywrites

[3fling]

An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works

Hey, I’ve been writing this FAHC origin story for a long time. It was on hiatus for a couple months but I resumed writing and we’re back baby! Updates on a monthly basis, over on AO3.

[nefarious247]

An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works

Hey I wrote a thing ‘cause I got sucked into rarepair hell. Welcome, we hope you enjoy your stay.

[nefarious247]

Shameless Self-Promotion

Please check out my Fake AH Crew origin story fic, “Young Turks”, on AO3 here

[nefarious247]

“Young Turks” - Chapter One

The prase “young turk” is simple slang to denote someone who is a little rebellious, pushing at boundaries, someone who’s out … seeking new things.

(You can read this story here under the “Read More” or on AO3 here.)

Jack hiked his backpack up onto his shoulders and readjusted the heavy box he was carrying. He did not feel prepared at all for move-in day. Truth be told, he was happy to be out of his mother’s house. She was drunk all the time, and Jack felt like he’d spent the entirety of his life being an adult in her place. He felt a little guilty at the thought of leaving her, but he was also glad he didn’t have any siblings to leave behind at the mercy of her. This was his life now - all the way across the country, no more dealing with mom and all her problems. He was going to live a life that someone his age should live, finally. Whatever happened to his mother, well, that just wasn’t his responsibility anymore.

He’d scoped out his dorms days ago to make sure he knew where he was going and what the best path to take there would be. As he lugged his few belongings up a set of narrow, dimly-lit stairs, he wondered what life would be like now. He’d have a roommate, of course, but he didn’t know  what he’d be like. Jack shrugged the thought off and walked up the hallway on the fourth floor of the dormitory. He finally reached 492 and sighed in relief. He awkwardly turned the handle on the door and entered the room, only a little surprised to see that his roommate was already there.

Jack dropped his things on his bed and turned to say hello. His roommate hadn’t looked up from unpacking, so instead, Jack stayed quiet and simply looked around the room. His roommate, still a major unknown, was tall, fit, and handsome. He had wavy blond hair that fell just past his chin, and piercing blue eyes. He was wearing a plain tan shirt, loose jeans, and a battered red hat backwards. He was unpacking stack after stack of magazines and books and gently placing them on the bookshelf under his lofted bed. Jack saw that he’d already hung a few posters from what looked to be shooter films.

“Hey,” Jack introduced himself finally, “I’m Jack. I guess we’re roommates?” The other man looked up from his boxes and blushed, looking rather embarrassed for not saying hello earlier.

“Hah, yeah,” he said, rubbing the back of his neck, “I’m Ryan. Nice to meet you.” He quickly thrust his hand out for Jack to shake, and they shared an uncomfortable moment.

“Nice to meet you too,” Jack mumbled and pushed his glasses up on his nose. He started to unpack his box, and he decided to try to strike up a conversation with Ryan.

“So uh, there’s a ‘welcome day’ party or something going on at the student union tonight, are you going?” he asked as he put sheets on his bed.

“Oh,” Ryan responded, disinterested, “uh, probably not? Why, are you going?”

“Eh, probably not,” Jack laughed.

“Not the partying type, eh?” Ryan chuckled back. Jack grinned.

“I guess you could say that. I’d honestly rather shower and go to bed,” Jack replied with a sigh.

“That doesn’t sound too bad,” Ryan agreed. He started to collapse his now-empty boxes as he continued to speak, “Didn’t bring much, huh?”

“Didn’t have much to bring,” Jack replied, his tone dropping slightly. He’d suddenly become self-conscious of his small collection of possessions: one set of twin sheets, about a week’s worth of clothes, a lamp, a few books, and his scant school supplies. He hadn’t had a chance to go out and buy a towel, or shampoo, and he realized his desire to shower would have to be put on hold.

“I uh, actually gotta go shopping tonight, so I definitely won’t be at the party,” Jack said, trying to cover his embarrassment.

“Hey,” Ryan said quickly, “I actually have to get some things too. Wanna come with me?”

Jack turned to look at Ryan with a grin, “You got a car?” Ryan nodded.

“Good, ‘cause I took the bus here,” he laughed, “yeah, sure, I’ll come with you.”

They pulled into the Wal-Mart parking lot after a quick stop at the nearest McDonald’s and headed into the store. They both made a beeline for the towels - apparently Ryan had forgotten to pack his. Jack felt less embarrassed about his own lack of toiletries. Over the next hour, Ryan stocked up on all kinds of cheap foods, extra clothes, razors, and a few new books. Jack grabbed an inexpensive family-size bottle of shampoo, the cheapest towel he could find, and a few more t-shirts to add to his wardrobe. Ryan eyed Jack’s much smaller cart load and hummed to himself.

When they went to pay, Ryan whipped out cash before Jack could even get his wallet. Jack was horrified, and he begged Ryan not to pay for his things, but Ryan refused. The cashier was confused and a little afraid of how sternly Ryan had reprimanded Jack, but they were soon done and back in Ryan’s car. All the embarrassment had returned to Jack, and his entire face glowed red.

“Why’d you do that?” He asked, mostly confused but also a little angry.

“Look, my parents are paying every penny of my tuition. They paid for this car, the gas that’s in it, and they give me four hundred dollars a month for groceries. From now on, if you need anything, just tell me,” Ryan said sternly.

“I can’t ask you to buy everything for me, I’ve got money, and I barely know you! Plus it’s your parents’ money, wouldn’t they be mad if they found out you’re spending it on someone else?”Jack argued frantically.

“We’re gonna be roommates for at least a year, better get to know each other!” Ryan practically growled, “and no, my parents barely noticed that I left for college, they don’t care what I spend my beans on.” Ryan paused.

“Besides, that’s way too much money for me to spend on myself every month. I couldn’t go through that much if I tried! You’ve gotta help me with this burden, please,” he laughed, his entire aura softening. A weak smile tugged at Jack’s lips, and he scoffed and shoved Ryan.

“Agreed, then,” Ryan declared, “I’ll be Mr. Moneybags and you be my friend, tight?”

“You can’t buy friends, dude,” Jack laughed.

“Shut up!” Ryan exclaimed.

Jack opened the door to his and Ryan’s room and flopped down on his bed. He rubbed his hands over his face and through his thick red beard. He pulled his glasses off and abandoned them beside himself on the bed. He groaned and closed his eyes as he pressed his hands hard on them.

Ryan rolled over in his bed and stared at Jack for a little bit before asking, “Rough morning?” Jack only grunted.

“You don’t know how lucky you are that you don’t have eight-A-M’s,” Jack sighed.

“Oh, believe me, the way you act when you come back from yours is enough,” Ryan said solemnly.

“This class is gonna kill me,” Jack moaned as he rolled over to lie on his belly. He clutched his pillow tight to his face.

“I believe in you,” Ryan teased. Jack’s hand appeared from under his pillow, and he flipped Ryan off. Ryan only laughed and rolled back over in his bed.

They’d only been in school for a month, but a lot had happened in that time. Jack and Ryan had developed a mutual affinity for Ryan’s favorite shooter films - Licence to Kill, To Live and Die in LA, and Reservoir Dogs - as well as Jack’s favorite bands - The Smiths, Simon & Garfunkel, and The Replacements. Jack was helping Ryan with his civics class, and Ryan helped Jack with his computer science class. They mutually-struggled with their calculus and geology classes, and Jack helped Ryan memorize lines for his play while Ryan helped Jack with his numbers for his budgeting class. They typically avoided on-campus events, unless they were business- or theatre-related, which played to Jack’s and Ryan’s majors respectively.

Additionally, they’d optimised their time together to get shopping, homework, and extracurricular requirements done in time to watch movies on Ryan’s new VHS player they’d bought in their second week. When Jack saw it on sale at the store, he’d planted the seed of want in Ryan’s mind by pretending to offhandedly mention how cool it’d be to be able to watch Ryan’s favorite movies in their dorm. Ryan dedicated one-hundred and twenty of his dollars to the VHS, a small boxy TV, and five of his favorite titles. They’d wasted no time setting up the TV and VHS player in their dorm, and spent the weekend watching all of Ryan’s picks. They bought a few new tapes every week and had their own movie nights on the weekends. As Ryan had predicted, his parents didn’t bat an eye at how easily he went through his allowance every month.

Ryan rolled back over, having suddenly remembered something he urgently needed to tell Jack, “Hey, good news!” Jack looked up from his pillow expectantly.

“Kris, that cute brunette in my theatre class, y’know, the one who’s super into lighting? Yeah, she’s seen you hanging around in the theatre during rehearsal, and she told me that she thinks you’re ‘quite the looker’.”

Jack frowned slightly, “Eh, I’m not really interested. Sweet of her to say so, though. I thought this beard might be unsightly.”

Ryan frowned hard, upset that his foolproof plan to cheer Jack up had failed miserably. He huffed and turned back to face the wall. “You’re impossible.”

“What?” Jack scoffed, “because I don’t particularly care about that one girl in your theatre class?”

“No,” Ryan retorted, “because you’re so damn hard to cheer up.”

“I’m fine,” Jack laughed unconvincingly. Ryan knew he was lying, but he left it for now. He was exhausted, and Jack would be more willing to talk when he was done with his classes. For now, they could just relax and sleep. Nine twenty-five was too early to talk about real stress and difficult classes.

When Ryan’s alarm went off two hours later, Jack was already gone. Ryan got up and got dressed; he ran a comb through his hair and studied his face briefly in the mirror. He grabbed his backpack and strolled out of the dorm. He sauntered out into the brisk October air and hurried to class. He slept through his first class, lazily took notes that slowly deteriorated into doodles during his second, and he ended up skipping his third after having decided that he was too tired to attend. He stopped by the mailboxes on his way back to his dorm and picked up his mail. He stuffed a couple of envelopes and a subscription magazine into his bag and retrieved a second key from his lanyard. He walked up a few feet and unlocked the box labeled “Pattillo, Jack”. He’d stolen Jack’s key a few weeks earlier when Jack said he would never get mail. Ryan checked the box every time he checked his own, but thus far it had been empty. Today wasn’t any different.

Ryan was surprised that Jack never got any mail at all - not even letters from the college. He thought for sure Jack would get a letter prompting him to join on-campus clubs, just as he had, but his mailbox was empty even then. Ryan briefly wondered if someone was stealing Jack’s mail, but he remembered that he had the key and would have noticed if someone had taken it. He shrugged it off and made his way back to the dorm.

Jack was back, working on homework with his books and notebooks scattered all over his bed. Ryan climbed onto his bed and opened his letters. He chuckled a little at the first one, but frowned when he read the second. He took the four hundred dollar check out of the envelope and briefly skimmed the scrap of paper inside before crumpling it up and tossing it into the garbage. He pulled out his wallet and placed the check safely inside. He returned his attention to the first letter to read it again.

“You got two letters today?” Jack asked, having been distracted from his work by the sound of Ryan’s crumpling.

“Oh, yeah,” Ryan responded, still half-reading the letter, “from my brothers.”

“That’s them on the wall, right?” Jack pointed at a polaroid picture that showed two young boys with their arms wrapped around each others’ shoulders. Ryan looked up and grunted.

“It’s an old picture, but yeah,” he commented lazily, “apparently they joined AV Club and Astronomy Club this year.”

“How old are they?” Jack asked.

“Hmm… They’re fifteen,” Ryan said after a moment of thinking.

“That’s a lot for fourteen-year-olds to do on top of school,” Jack observed.

“Yeah, they do sports too. Cross Country in the fall and Track in the spring,” Ryan elaborated, “they’ve always been the busy type, y’know?”

“What about you?”

“Pshh,” Ryan scoffed, “I didn’t do anything in high school except get into trouble.”

“For real?” Jack was intrigued. Ryan didn’t really seem like the troublesome sort, at least not as far as Jack knew.

“Yeah, I was in detention almost every day,” Ryan chuckled, but his tone was sour, “I got in a lot of fights at school, and after school I’d go out and pick more.”

“Real ball buster, huh?”

“Hah, yeah,” Ryan muttered, “I guess you could say that.”

They stayed quiet for a moment. Jack suddenly felt awkward, realizing that something was bothering Ryan. Before he could say anything, Ryan piped up again.

“What about you? What’d you do in high school?”

“Oh, uh,” Jack thought for a minute, “Well, I was in Key Club and I was the Vice President of Student Council. Kept me busy enough.”

“You were a good kid, then?” Ryan asked as he shot Jack a sly grin.

“Eh, I guess,” Jack muttered, “I wanted to do well enough in school to be able to go to a far-away college, so I guess, yeah, I tended to be pretty good back then.”

“Back then? You telling me you’ve got some secret mischief now?” Ryan asked.

“I mean if you count watching movies all weekend instead of doing classwork, then yeah,” Jack laughed. He fell back onto his pillow, upsetting one of his textbooks.

“Why’d you want to go to college far away from home?” Ryan questioned.

“That’s,” Jack paused, “well, that’s kind of a lot. I guess the short answer is I didn’t have a great home life.”

“Sorry,” Ryan said awkwardly, “I, uh, I get that.”

“Sorry to hear that,” Jack replied sincerely.

“You leave any siblings back there?”

“Nope,” Jack said, “mom knew better than to have more than one kid, and I can be grateful for that I guess. You ever worry about yours?”

“Eh, a little,” Ryan admitted, “but I think they’ll do better than I did. They don’t go looking for trouble.”

They fell silent again. Jack shuffled uncomfortably in his bed, and Ryan sighed quietly. They rarely talked about their home lives, and now they understood why. Life before college was messy and complicated, even if they were barely saying anything.

Ryan got off of his bed and turned the TV on. “You up for The Rocky Horror Picture Show?” he asked. Jack nodded. Ryan took the tape out of the case and put it in the little slot in the front of the TV. He pressed buttons on the front as he was prompted to and the movie started.

Jack had only caught glimpses of the movie on TV at home, but he’d never sat down and watched the whole thing. As far as he was aware, it was a racy movie, but Ryan claimed it was better than Reservoir Dogs. Jack declared he’d be the judge of that - he couldn’t see how a movie made almost twenty years before Reservoir Dogs could even hold a candle to it. Ryan swore he’d love it.

Jack didn’t take his eyes off the screen once. Ryan was secretly very pleased with himself for choosing such a hit. There was a point about halfway into the film when Jack looked like he very much wanted to ask a question, but he stayed quiet and focused on the movie. Ryan noted this observation and made a point to return to it when the film was over. For the time being, however, he let Jack watch in peace.

Nearly two hours later, when the film was over, Ryan broke the noise of the credit music to inquire what Jack thought of the movie.

“I’m sorry I doubted you,” Jack said, a mystified glaze over his eyes as he watched the credits roll by, “that was incredible!”

“Told you so,” Ryan grinned. Before he could ask Jack anything else, Jack posed a question of his own.

“So was the main character…”

“Gay?” Ryan interjected.

“No,” Jack shook his head, “I guess I don’t know what I’m asking. What… God, that sounds horrible… Okay, whatever, what is he? Or she? I don’t really know.”

“Jack, are you telling me you don’t know what a transvestite is?” Ryan laughed.

“Yeah,” Jack grumbled, “I guess so.”

Ryan laughed at Jack’s expense before he explained, “This is probably not the best explanation in the world, but a transvestite is basically someone who dresses like the opposite gender and, like, lives their life that way.”

“Oh, okay,” Jack said, still not totally understanding.

“Is there anything else you don’t know about?” Ryan teased.

“Shut up,” Jack laughed, “Transvestites weren’t exactly a big thing in my hometown!”

“I’m not really sure they’re a big thing in anyone’s town,” Ryan wheezed between laughs.

“You’re an asshole!” Jack threw a friendly punch Ryan’s way, and a lot of things happened all at once.

Ryan’s right palm met Jack’s fist and twisted his arm sharply. Jack cried out in surprise and Ryan dropped his arm in an instant. Ryan leapt to his feet, his face glowing red. Jack shot him a quizzical look.

“Sorry,” Ryan mumbled, terribly embarrassed, “I just thought…”

“It’s fine, dude,” Jack said, shaking out his arm as if to prove that it still worked. Ryan smiled weakly and went to eject the tape from the TV.

As Ryan was putting the tape away, Jack braved another question, “So like, are Transvestites women who used to be men?”

“No,” Ryan said as he returned the movie to the shelf with the others, “that’s a Transgender person. I’m not really that well-versed on the subject, but I guess the big difference is how they present themselves to other people? Like, okay, do you know what a Drag Queen is?” Jack shook his head no, “Um, okay, well they’re men that dress like women and perform. Not really like strippers, but, you get it? I would say that Drag Queens are Transvestites. And, um, Transgender people are like, actually that gender. Like… oh! Candy Darling!”

Jack stared blankly at Ryan in utter confusion. Ryan sighed.

“Andy Warhol? The artist? Candy Darling was one of his main models,” Ryan explained, “actually, come to think of it, a lot of Transgender women modelled for him.”

“I know who Andy Warhol is, but that doesn’t really explain anything,” Jack admitted. Ryan just shrugged and returned to his bed.

“It’s not that important,” Ryan sighed, facedown in his pillow, “I’m going to sleep, I’m exhausted.”

“G’night, Ryan,” Jack yawned as he pushed his books off his bed and burrowed into his blankets.

Halloween came quickly. Jack and Ryan spent most of October running around like chickens with their heads cut off, working on projects and papers, and studying for exams. Ryan’s play was the first weekend of November, Jack had a mock federal budget due, and they both had lab journals to turn in. They spent more time than ever holed up on the fifth floor of the library, where they could spread out over the entire floor. They created a studying bolthole, and they were there working away every spare moment.

When everything was finally finished - save for Ryan’s play - and classes were finished, Ryan and Jack addressed the issue of Halloween. There were likely hundreds of parties going on, and they’d been invited to a few by their friends and Ryan’s castmates. They simply weren’t sure what to do. They could always spend the night in watching the small collection of Spielberg films they’d accrued, or they could go nab some half-priced candy at Wal-Mart. Of course, they also felt obliged to go to their friends’ parties. In the end, they decided to dress up and go out.

Ryan drove to a pop-up Halloween store that had been set up in an abandoned department store. Surprisingly, even on Halloween in a college town, they still had loads of costumes. Ryan had a bit of an issue finding a costume tall enough for him, but they eventually found good ones and headed for the checkout line.

Ryan found a grim reaper costume, complete with a tattered black robe, a horrifying skull mask, and an enormous scythe. He was ecstatic to look so terrifying, and Jack was already on edge imagining someone of Ryan’s stature cloaked in that monstrosity. Jack had found a Rocky Horror Picture Show costume, a Frank N. Furter one to be exact, and it came with a matching wig.

“Do you think I should shave my beard?” Jack asked.

Ryan considered it for a moment before responding, “Absolutely.”

An hour later, Jack was clean-shaven and they were dressed to the nines. Not an inch of Ryan’s skin was visible, and he looked like a real wraith had stepped out of the astral plane to haunt the streets. Jack had a sharp but curved jawline hidden under his beard, and in the full costume, he looked a lot like Tim Curry in his glory days. Ryan painted his face and used some of the stage makeup to finish off the look, and together they looked incredible.

They made their way to Ryan’s friend Kris’s party, which was off-campus at her house. Ryan drove to the party, and they were able to park in her driveway. She’d offered a spot in the garage even, to keep Ryan’s car safe from drunk people, but he figured it would be fine so long as it was off the road. Kris was dressed as Marilyn Monroe, and she definitely looked the part.

“Jack? Is that you?” she asked, ogling over Jack’s costume, “you look incredible!”

“Thanks!” Jack smiled, not at all playing the part.

Ryan and Jack followed Kris through a small crowd of people, mostly other Theatre majors, to the back yard, where there was music, drinks, and all kinds of games. Ryan saw a bunch of his castmates and tech students he knew, and Jack recognized a couple of the student directors. They struck up conversation and danced under the strings of orange and purple lights Kris had hung from tree to tree.

When someone came around handing out drinks, Jack took one to taste, but Ryan refused. Jack shot him a funny look and he just shrugged. Jack rolled his eyes and tasted the beer. It wasn’t great, but it would do. He wouldn’t have more than just the one, but he would enjoy the one he allowed himself to have. Soon, he and Ryan were just dancing in a tightly-packed group of people.

The sun slowly set, and the party got less and less sober. The crowd got closer, and everyone was sweating, even in the chilly evening air. At some point, Ryan and Jack got separated. Jack didn’t mind terribly, he just slowly made his way out of the center of the yard to the back where people were bobbing for apples - or, rather, trying to, but they were too drunk to actually get any.

One of the people attempting to bob for apples - a man in a Fresh Prince-era Will Smith outfit - stumbled over to Jack and swung a red solo cup sloshing with beer his way.

“Didn’t know dressin’ up as a faggot was an option!” he laughed.

Jack rolled his eyes but otherwise ignored the guy. He was, however, keeping a weather eye out for Ryan, almost desperately waiting for him to return from wherever he’d gotten off to. The man wasn’t letting up though.

“Seriously - hic - you look like - hic - a dimestore tranny!” the man said between drunken hiccups.

“This is a real costume,” Jack said smoothly, “I’m dressed up like a character from The Rocky Horror Picture Show.”

“Yeah, the fag movie!” the guy laughed, spilling some of his beer on Jack.

“It’s - you know what, I don’t care,” Jack scoffed as he shoved the man away and turned to leave the yard. The guy grabbed Jack by the shoulder and stopped him. He sloppily sloshed more beer onto Jack, and he looked angry now.

“Where you goin’, fag?” he spat.

“Get off of me!” Jack exclaimed and shoved him away again.

“Fag on the loose!” the guy cried as Jack hurried away along the fence.

Jack could feel his face getting hot. He was glad he had the face paint on to hide how red he probably was underneath it. He climbed the stairs to the back porch and ran into one of Ryan’s friends who was also avoiding the beer. He struck up a conversation with the guy, Stuart, and recounted what had just happened with an air of inconvenience.

“God,” Stuart groaned, “Derrick’s the worst, especially when he’s drunk.”

So his name was Derrick. Jack made a note to avoid him in the future. Jack and Stuart moved away from the unsavory conversation and discussed school of all things, while drunk college kids milled about around them.

Earlier, when Ryan and Jack got separated, Ryan retreated into the house to use the bathroom. When he returned to the kitchen, he found Kris being harassed by friends of someone she’d invited. He stormed into the kitchen looking like Death himself and told the guys off.

“Knock it off,” Ryan said.

“Or what, you’re gonna reap our souls?” the first guy, a redhead wearing a shoddy He-Man costume, retorted, feigning intimidation.

Ryan pulled his hood down and his mask off to reveal the murderous expression on his face and growled, “get out.” At the sight of his face, the guys lost all the desire to argue and practically bolted out of the kitchen.

Ryan put his mask back on and turned to Kris, “Some people, I swear.”

“Thanks, Ryan,” she said awkwardly, “I know, it’s like, I threw this party, the least you could do is respect me!”

Ryan and Kris left the kitchen and started up a conversation in Kris’s living room, where a group of people were watching The Shining and drinking more than they should. Kris grabbed another beer and offered Ryan some, but he declined again. She shrugged and continued the conversation. More people were crowding into the room, some there to actually watch the movie and some there only because they wanted to sit. Eventually, Kris and Ryan ended up crammed into one recliner. The Shining had ended by that time, and someone had gotten up and changed the movie to Friday the 13th. Kris scowled and turned away from the TV. She was now entirely in Ryan’s lap, mostly facing him. He had to awkwardly wrap his left arm around her to keep her from falling out of the chair.

“Sorry,” she groaned, “I just hate this movie so much!”

“Why do you own it?” Ryan chuckled.

“I don’t! It’s one of my roommates’,” she said. She leaned against Ryan’s chest and tried to block out the sounds of the TV.

Ryan’s arm tightened around Kris instinctively, and she snuggled into his embrace. Her hand had settled gently on his shoulder. Ryan kept talking through all this, although he was now hyper-focused on her every move. He was telling her about how he’d seen this movie a lot as a kid and it didn’t really freak him out anymore. Her ear was right over his heart, and she let the steady beat of his heart and the hum of his voice distract her from the screams emanating from the other side of the room.

“We don’t have to sit in here if you don’t want to watch this movie,” he said suddenly, having broken from his monologue.

The next thing he knew, he and Kris were locked in her room, and he was trailing kisses down her jaw. His cape and mask were abandoned on the floor, along with Kris’s blonde wig. Kris pushed him onto her bed and fell with him, and he rolled over so that she was underneath him. He sat up and pulled off his gray undershirt before laying back down to resume kissing her.

They moved together, the sound of the movie and the music permeating the room and creating an energetic ambiance. The entire room was dark, except for the spray of light that came in through the window from the backyard. Their bodies were hot; Ryan, despite his size and strength, was gentle with Kris. The last thing he wanted to do was hurt her, emotionally or physically.

When Ryan rolled off of Kris, breathing heavily and dripping in sweat, he held her close and placed a soft kiss on her hair. She leaned into his embrace and hummed softly. His arms wrapped tighter around her, and he intertwined his legs with hers.

“So, uh,” Ryan whispered, “you still have that crush on Jack, or…”

“I was kinda thinking you and I have more in common, so…” Kris laughed softly, “besides, between me and you, you’re cuter.”

Ryan kissed her again and nuzzled her with his chin, his short beard tugging at her hair. She closed her eyes and sighed happily.

“Shit,” Ryan groaned, “I forgot about Jack.”

“We should go find him, probably,” Kris agreed, realizing what Ryan meant.

Ryan crawled out of Kris’s bed and pulled his jeans on. She slipped back into her dress and picked her wig up off the floor. Once they looked presentable, they sneaked down the stairs past a couple drunk kids and left the house. Ryan scanned the crowd in the yard, trying to pick out Jack. Kris nudged him and pointed to her right, where Jack and Stuart were sat having a heated discussion about the differences between Macbeth and Banquo. Ryan rolled his eyes and smiled.

“I guess he’s fine,” he groaned. Kris laughed.

[nefarious247]

In the End

((Between @staranon95 ‘s fic, “That White Picket Fence”, and EDEN’s “rock + roll”, my brain developed this little pain blurb, and I’ve been cultivating it all day.))

Ryan crouched in the grass next to Jack where she was sitting in front of Geoff’s grave, staring blankly at the gray slate and the wilted bouquet that lay before it. She was holding a new bouquet in her hands, but she didn’t seem like she wanted to place it. Ryan sat with her in silence for a while, just watching her as she remembered her husband.

“Hey, Ry?” she asked softly, not looking away from the stone.

“Yeah?”

“Do you have any regrets?”

“Hmm… Yeah, I suppose,” he sighed; after a pause, he continued, “but I try not to think about them too much.”

“Why not?” Now she’d turned to look at him, her green eyes staring directly into him.

“There’s a lot of things that I wish hadn’t ever happened, but, at the same time, they all brought me to this place and this time,” he paused again, “so yeah, I’d say I have regrets, but I don’t think I’d change ‘em if I could.”

Jack nodded and returned her gaze to the grave, her eyes slowly tracing over each letter on the stone. She took in each character of his name, Geoffrey Lazer Ramsey, nice and slowly, trying to remember as much as she could about the man from his name alone. Then she looked over the dates: just fifty-four short years, and to think she’d only known him for about half of that. Twenty-four years, and they’d spent twelve of those years married, all of them in the crew.

Twenty-three years of the Fakes, and Jack and Geoff had been there from start to finish. She’d been there for Geoff in those first few, grisly years. The years when it seemed like nothing could go right, when they thought for sure they’d never be more than a lackey gang. They married in the good years, when they’d been running Los Santos for some time, and Jack was the Queen and Geoff was her King. Those were the best  years of their lives.

Lastly, she forced herself to read the inscription below, which read in smaller text, “Life is like a good book, and his life was the best book ever written.” He’d chosen that text himself, years before he’d actually needed but far sooner than he thought he would. Jack still had all of his books, still ran his library, and she still saw him sitting in the window box of the penthouse, reading a thick book with tattered pages from all the times he’d read it before. He’d always dreamt of a fairytale ending - that happy ending.

“Ry?”

“Yeah, Jack?”

“Is this,” she paused, “is this our happy ending?”

Ryan thought for a moment. He knew what Jack was getting at, but he truly didn’t know the best way to answer. After some time, he answered, “I don’t think this is a happy ending, but I don’t think it’s a bad one either.”

“How’s that?”

“It’s not the happy ending we were all dreaming of all those years ago, but it might be the best possible ending we could have gotten, all things considered,” he said softly, staring intently at Jack even though she wasn’t looking back. Ryan realized after a minute that she was crying, and he moved closer and wrapped his arms around her.

“I miss him so much, Ry,” she sobbed quietly, burying her head in Ryan’s chest.

He held her tightly and whispered, “I know, Jack. I miss him too.”

[nefarious247]

(this is a sort of continuation of Ryan as a model for Jeremy’s art class! Please please please check out @staranon95's original!!!)

Jeremy woke up in Ryan’s bed the next day exhausted and dreading class. He rolled over to see that Ryan wasn’t in bed and sighed. He got out of bed, made it up quickly, and headed for the bathroom, still buck naked.

Sure enough, there was Ryan, showered and fully dressed. His blond hair was down, cascading over his shoulders. He was scrubbing his face clean with a plush, white towel. He paused and gave Jeremy a carnivorous look as he entered the bathroom. Jeremy only rolled his eyes and turned the shower on.

Before getting in the shower, Jeremy scolded Ryan, “Don’t pull anything during class today. Yesterday was bad enough, and the fact that you’re going to be there for four more days is plenty embarrassing for me without any extra antics.”

Ryan chuckled, the usual airy laugh, and he resumed washing his face as he spoke, “Aw, I embarrassed you?” Jeremy replied with a snort from the shower.

“Seriously, dear, I’m going to get around to chumming it up with your friends,” Ryan stated matter-of-factly, “you can’t seriously expect me to just never be a part of your life outside of the bedroom and heist room.”

Jeremy pondered for a bit as he lathered his bright green hair with shampoo. “Yeah, I know,” he sighed, “but you don’t have to make it so difficult.”

This time Ryan snorted.

Ryan somehow managed to convince Jeremy to ride with him that day, and so they left Ryan’s apartment together on the back of his motorcycle. Jeremy was a little displeased at the showiness of the Harley, but Ryan’s car would have been much worse. Nothing says indiscreet like a Zentoro, even if it was black. They parked in Jeremy’s usual spot, much closer than where Ryan had parked the day before.

“What are you going to do until class? You’ve still got a couple hours,” Jeremy said as he hitched his backpack up.

“Dunno, probably find a good place to sit and read for a while. I’ll be discreet, if that’s what you’re worried about,” Ryan drawled, a wide grin on his face.

“Sure,” Jeremy sighed, realizing that was the best he could expect, “yeah, okay. I know you’ll be discreet. See you in a few hours.”

Ryan grabbed Jeremy’s hand before he left, and Jeremy shot him a quizzical look. Ryan’s face still had that smug grin painted all over it like a warning sign. He pointed a finger to his cheek, and Jeremy groaned and rolled his eyes.

“No. Not here, Ryan,” he mumbled.

“I thought you loved me,” he faked being crestfallen and captured Jeremy with his watery baby blues.

Jeremy growled and stood on tiptoes to peck Ryan on the cheek. No less than three people witnessed the exchange, and Jeremy practically bolted to his first class. Ryan only chuckled and fished a book out of his backpack, headed toward the nearest, comfiest-looking trees he could find, and bunkered down for the long run.

---

Jeremy’s third class drew to a close and he became insanely nervous. He was so worried about how Ryan would act in class that day. Of course he would never intentionally hurt or push Jeremy past his breaking point, but he was still worried. He wanted his friends to think well of him and of Ryan. If Ryan kept screwing around, however, he worried about their opinions and relationships with him.

He didn’t have time to think anymore, though, he’d entered the classroom with Paula and Tess right ahead of him. Ryan was already there, robed up and sitting comfortably on the stool in the middle of the room. He was just now putting his hair up. Although the whole situation put Jeremy off a little, he always got a little hot at the sight of Ryan playing with his hair. He sat down and set up his sketchbook and pencils, Tess and Paula copying him on either side.

Paula glanced up from her station as she chatted with Jeremy and noticed a couple marks around his neck, just peeking out of the neckline of his shirt. She teased him, “Get a little rowdy last night, huh, J?” She nudged him with her elbow.

Jeremy’s face flushed but he held his ground, “I’m an adult. I do things.”

Tess and Paula only laughed. “Obviously,” Tess giggled, “but with who?”

“Nobody you guys know,” Jeremy scoffed, desperately hoping they would take the bait.

“Wait, are you saying you have another sugar daddy?” Paula asked, incredulous.

“No! A-and I don’t have any!” Jeremy lied, blushing. Paula and Tess chuckled again at Jeremy’s expense.

“Sure you don’t, J,” Paula sighed as the professor walked in. Rob rushed in right after her and made his way to his seat, right next to Tess.

Ah, yes, the dreaded drawing class. Here it was, about to start for the second day in a row. Jeremy mentally prepared himself for Ryan to expose himself in front of the class. Ryan dropped his robe, and Jeremy’s jaw nearly dropped to the floor.

He thought he’d been so careful, but there, plain as day, were a smattering of bright red and purple hickeys - all over Ryan’s body. Jeremy died a little inside as he heard a number of chuckles and embarrassed giggles around the room. Ryan, of course, was beaming with sick pleasure. Paula snorted and shot Jeremy a thrilled and accusatory glance, and he felt himself melting into a puddle of pure embarrassment.

“Jeremy you didn’t!” Tess hissed, fixing Jeremy with a knowing gaze.

He didn’t have a choice. Ryan had inadvertently backed him into a corner.

“Yeah, yeah, I got down and dirty with Ryan last night. Can we please just… do class,” Jeremy strained, pursing his lips tightly as he began to draw. He was grateful that Paula, Tess, and Rob had mercy on him and allowed him to draw in peace.

He was fine until the professor called a break. Ryan put the robe back on and casually made his way over to Jeremy’s station. Jeremy felt like shrinking into his chair and hiding from his friends and Ryan, but that wasn’t a choice, so he sat up straight and bore the teasing.

“How’m I doing out there?” Ryan feigned nervousness. Jeremy only snorted and rolled his eyes.

“Fantastic,” Paula said, speaking up when Jeremy refused to.

“You think so too, Jeremy?” Ryan grinned evilly.

“Yeah, sure,” Jeremy huffed, his cheeks glowing bright red again.

“Aw, come on, J, don’t be so mean!” Tess chided playfully, giving Jeremy a nudge.

Jeremy buried his face in his hands and rubbed them hard over his brow and nose. He groaned and faced Ryan directly, a smile pulling at the corners of his mouth.

“You’re incorrigible,” Jeremy huffed, letting the smile free.

“You’re adorable,” Ryan replied quickly, “getting all flustered and embarrassed. You forgot, didn’t you?” Jeremy scowled. That was answer enough for Ryan and the girls.

“You were totally dressed this morning, I didn’t think anything of it,” Jeremy confessed.

“Wow, Jeremy, banging the hot model and not remembering what you did to him? You’re a total dog!” Rob teased, laughing harder than he could help.

“Oh, can it, you sleeze,” Jeremy shot back, still trying to keep back a grin.

Ryan was right after all, Jeremy couldn’t stop him from interacting with his friends. He figured maybe it was time to accept and embrace that.

---

Ryan climbed into bed hours after Jeremy. He straddled Jeremy’s hips and tugged at the strings on his pajama pants. Jeremy roused from sleep and took a moment to orient himself. When he realized Ryan was taking his clothes off, he sat up.

“Hey, get outta those clothes,” Ryan hummed softly and licked his lips, staring at Jeremy with ravenous hunger.

“Absolutely not,” Jeremy said blandly.

Ryan stopped, all the sensuality gone, “What?”

“I can’t risk giving you any more hickeys, and I don’t need more of my own, either,” Jeremy scoffed, pulling the waistband out of Ryan’s hands.

Ryan groaned and gracefully rolled off of Jeremy onto his side of the bed. “You’re so mean to me,” he whined.

“Just give it a break ‘till the modelling’s done, please? I mean, I already told Geoff I’d be with him this weekend, but after that, okay? Please?” Jeremy bargained.

“Fine,” Ryan growled, a new warmth bleeding into his voice, “but next week, you are entirely mine.”

“Sure thing, Ry,” Jeremy said, gently kissing the corner of Ryan’s mouth.

[nefarious247]

He’s Happy

“Hey Ry? He would have wanted you to be happy.”

Michael’s words came back to Ryan, and a fresh wave of emotions flooded over him. He clenched his fists so tightly that his nails dug into his palms, and he felt a tiny dribble of hot blood run through the cracks between his fingers. Tears streamed down his face, streaking his face paint in their paths. He knew what Michael said was true, and he wanted to be happy. He loved Jeremy more than anyone else in the world. There was a part of him that desperately wanted to go back to the time before Ray died, to be able to save him or stop the inevitable. He knew he would always miss Ray, but he also knew that Ray didn’t want him to live a sad and mournful life.

Before he knew what he was doing, his bloody fingers streaked across his phone screen and Michael was on the other end of the line. Ryan choked through weak sobs as he answered Michael’s confused, “What’s up?”

“I’m gonna do it, Michael,” Ryan cried. Michael was silent. “You’re right.”

“Okay, Ry,” Michael said softly, understanding what Ryan was getting at. “You’re doing the right thing.”

“Thanks,” Ryan said weakly before hanging up. He strode to the bathroom to clean up his face and bandage his hand where he’d cut it.

---

The crew was all together at Geoff’s, some working, some sleeping, some chatting. They were sprawled out all over the penthouse. Jeremy was cooking up some food in the kitchen, and Ryan made his way over sometime into the evening. He slinked up behind Jeremy and hugged him from behind. Jeremy was exhausted from the heist - they all were, but Jeremy especially - and he leaned into Ryan’s warmth.

“‘Sup?” he breathed as he stirred his food.

Ryan kissed the side of Jeremy’s head and whispered softly in his ear, “I just wanted to ask you something.”

“Well, shoot,” Jeremy yawned. Ryan pulled away from Jeremy. “What are you-”

Jeremy turned to see Ryan kneeling behind him on one knee, tears forming in his eyes and his cheeks flushed pink.

“Jeremy,” he started shakily, “the last three years have been insane. You… You showed up at just the right time, and I didn’t appreciate you at first, but now… Now, I don’t think I could go a day without you.”

Jeremy’s eyes welled with tears and he laughed softly, as though he couldn’t believe what Ryan was saying.

“I don’t want to go a single day without you by my side, Jeremy,” Ryan paused, his eyes locked with Jeremy’s, “will you marry me?”

Jeremy practically fell into Ryan’s arms and they stood, holding each other tightly. Jeremy wiped tears from his eyes and looked up at Ryan.

“Of course, you big, stupid idiot!” he laughed, a few more tears leaking out.

Ryan gently took his hand and slipped a simple, silvery ring onto his ring finger. Jeremy looked at it quizzically for a moment, and a fresh wave of tears took him over as he realized what the ring was - or rather, what it had been. It was a piece of Jeremy’s first assault rifle that had unfortunately been destroyed beyond repair years ago. Ryan had salvaged a small piece of the barrel and polished it into a ring and saved it for this very day. Ryan had given him that assault rifle when he first joined the crew, and he was devastated when it was destroyed. Now here it was, his first-ever gift from Ryan recycled into a beautiful engagement ring. Jeremy looked back at Ryan with starry eyes as he attempted to stop crying.

“It took a while to find a good piece that was useable, but I couldn’t just let it be destroyed, y’know?” Ryan chuckled. Jeremy sniffled and smiled.

“You’re… You’re ridiculous!” Jeremy laughed.

“Hey! What’s going on in that kitchen, jackholes?” Geoff called, irritated that he didn’t have food in front of him yet. Michael’s head snapped up from his Switch and a knowing smile spread across his face.

“Show ‘em, Li’l J!” Michael coaxed excitedly.

Jeremy and Ryan abandoned the food cooking on the stove and went to show Geoff, Jack, and the others the ring. Geoff snorted and rolled his eyes, but there was a smile underneath his moustache. Jack hugged them both tight and showered Ryan with I never thought’s.

Michael hung back, smiling softly.

Don’t worry, Ray.

He’s happy.

[nefarious247]

(I hope I can portray Jeremy’s friends well! Since I don’t totally know what their stories are, it’d be hard to get them totally right, but nonetheless, I hope you enjoy!)

“Hey, J, you coming to the party tonight?” Tess called after Jeremy as he practically bolted out of the classroom.

Jeremy stopped briefly and rubbed the back of his head nervously, “Uh, sorry, Tess, but I don’t think I’ll be there. Talk to you later!”

He rushed out of the room and made his way quickly to the street, where Geoff was waiting in a neon pink Zentoro. It used to irritate Jeremy to no end how his crew only ever went out and about in the flashiest vehicles known to mankind, but lately he found himself caring less and less. People still stared, and he figured they always would. There was over ten thousand students at the Los Santos Area School of the Arts, new people probably saw the crew pick him up or drop him off every day.

“How was class?” Geoff asked, speeding off and turning heads.

“It was great,” Jeremy enthused, “it’s homecoming weekend so a lot of the professors went light on weekend work, by some miracle.”

“You have any plans for the weekend?” Geoff’s moustache twitched.

“Nah, nah,” Jeremy shrugged, “we’ve got crew stuff to do this weekend.”

“Look, Jeremy, I appreciate your commitment to the crew, but you need to actually have a college experience. It’s important, and it’ll make you a well-rounded person,” Geoff chastised him. Jeremy slunk down in his seat and rolled his eyes.

“Hey,” Geoff scolded, “don’t you get all bitchy with me. I’m serious.”

Jeremy huffed and pushed himself back up in the seat, but he looked away from Geoff and out over the city as they breezed through it.

“Trevor’s covering you this weekend,” Geoff said suddenly. Jeremy whipped around in his seat.

“No, no, no, Geoff. I said I wasn’t going to let school get in the way of my work,” Jeremy countered. Geoff only held up one heavily-tattooed hand in Jeremy’s face.

“I’m in charge, I call the shots. I’m sure at least one of your friends has something planned, and I know you want to go. We’re not even doing anything with a full crew, just Michael and Gavin and any other single person. Small job,” Geoff rambled, trying to downplay the job as much as possible.

“Yeah, but they need me. I’m their sniper, not Trevor. Does Trevor even know how to use a sniper rifle?” Jeremy argued.

“You really think all those years with Ryan and he’d never learn to use a sniper?” Geoff spat back.

Jeremy shrugged. He supposed Geoff was right: the way Ryan lived, he couldn’t imagine the man’s younger brother had lived much differently, especially if they’d both ended up with the Fakes.

“They’ll be fine without you for one job,” Geoff said finally. Jeremy knew that was the end of it.

—

Jeremy knocked on Tess’s apartment door late on Friday night. He’d had to do a little bit of work with Jack and Ryan, regarding his and Ryan’s latest job, but as soon as he’d finished he rushed over to her building to attend the party. Tess opened the door, her face painted first with surprise and then delight. She threw her arms around Jeremy’s neck and welcomed him in.

Rob and Paula were inside, sipping cheap beers and chatting. They looked up from their drinks and exclaimed welcomes when they saw Jeremy. Tess passed Jeremy a beer and they all sat and drank together. Jeremy tried not to screw up his face at the crude taste of the cheap alcohol. He reminded himself this wasn’t an a-list mob party, but a casual get together of broke college students.

“J, we were about to start up the infamous party game: truth or dare,” Paula said, “you game?”

“I’d be a total pussy if I wasn’t!” He exclaimed, excited to be there with his friends.

Rob started by daring Paula to sneak to the neighbor’s apartment and leave them a mysterious love letter, written by himself. She agreed and left the distasteful letter at the door of the alcoholic lady next door. They heard her stomping around and yelling in the hall about a “disgusting man” who she supposed lived upstairs. This went on for nearly an hour before they started getting more and more daring with their questions and challenges.

“Jeremy,” Paula said, “truth or dare?”

“Truth,” Jeremy chuckled, his cheeks red from all the beer, “I’m not going to do anything you guys have planned!”

“Fine by me!’ Paula laughed back, “I’ve been dying to know: what’s really going on with you and all those rich people? Is one of them your sugar daddy or what?”

“Uh, dare,” Jeremy mumbled.

“No way, J!” Tess exclaimed, hitting Jeremy on the back, “you picked truth and now you need to tell us!”

“God,” Jeremy groaned, “okay. Um… well, they’re uh, they’re actually… all my sugar daddies. Well, I mean, not Jack, she’s like… a sugar mom, I guess?”

Rob nearly choked on his beer, “You’re not serious?”

“Jeremy, no way!” Paula laughed, “Seriously? All of them?”

Jeremy nodded and sipped his beer. He was glad he was tipsy and red-cheeked: hopefully they wouldn’t notice that he was also blushing.

“Okay spill it. How? Why? What… What the heck?” Tess pressed, leaning in close to Jeremy.

“Uh, well, okay,” Jeremy stammered, “I guess… it all started with Gavin and Michael. We met at the bar I used to tend at, Gavin was tipping me all night.”

“What did he look like back then?” Paula interrupted.

“Same as now,” Jeremy explained, “all the gold: rings, bracelets, earrings, eyeshadow, lipstick, shoes… Y’know, everything. Super pompous. He had darker hair then, not that horrible platinum he’s got now though.”

“And, uh, which one’s Michael? Sorry, I don’t actually really know any of their names,” Rob confessed.

“Michael actually hasn’t ever been on campus, so if you’ve met him I’d be surprised,” Jeremy continued, “he’s a sharp guy. Dark skin, beautiful dark hair, terrible attitude.”

“Okay, back to the meat of the story!” Tess insisted.

“Right… So yeah, Gavin was tipping me all night, and we kinda, uh, ended up sleeping together that night. When I got up the next morning, he’d cooked me breakfast. While we were eating, Michael showed up. Turned out we were in Michael’s house all along. I started working with them after that, but for a while it was just Michael and Gavin.”

“Where do you guys work?” Rob asked.

Ah, the dreaded question. Jeremy floundered a little, but he remembered Geoff’s advice from years ago, when he’d first joined the crew.

“Geoff actually owns the Los Santos Private Library, and I work for him there,” he explained. The others believed it without question.

“So you just slept with Gavin once and then he and Michael became your sugar daddies?” Tess asked.

“Well, actually, Gavin doesn’t have money at all!” Jeremy laughed, “he gets all - literally all - his money from Geoff. I mean, he still buys like, everything, for me, but none of it is his money.”

“Is Geoff his sugar daddy?” Paula prodded.

“Uh, no,” Jeremy stammered. It really was kind of odd the relationship the two of them had, almost like a father and son, “they just… I think Geoff doesn’t trust Gavin with money, so he doesn’t pay him regularly. Anyway, Michael just kinda took a liking to me too, and yeah before I knew it they were taking turns having me and fawning over me. It was super weird at first.

“Then somehow I ended up living with Geoff for a while and he just kept buying me stuff - nicer stuff than Michael and Gavin - and then, there I was. Jack and I aren’t, uh, intimate, but I help her a lot with paperwork at the… at the library. Ryan was the last one to kinda scoop me up. I dunno if they all just decided to take me in like that, but they all know and they’re all perfectly willing to share me, and I certainly don’t mind them taking care of everything for me.”

Paula, Tess, and Rob were dumbstruck. They couldn’t believe Jeremy’s luck. Of course, they didn’t know that Jeremy also had a sizeable fortune himself, and they certainly didn’t know he made that fortune by killing and thieving. As far as they were aware, he was a part-time worker at a cheap library whose college was paid for exclusively by his wealthy sex buddies. In any case, he’d finally bared it all for them. He was more comfortable talking about his crew now, though, than he had been even a few weeks ago, when Ryan was modelling in their class.

“And now you just bounce around and get paid up the ass?” Rob asked.

“Yeah, that’s pretty much it,” Jeremy said.

He was glad he’d finally been honest with his friends. It felt good to tell them the truth.