Ryan Haywood stared hard at the small folded piece of light pink card in his hand. He unfolded it and scanned across the words handwritten on it in white cursive writing for the millionth time that morning:

I'm gonna love you forever.

That's just my curse, it's forever.

He sighed, folded it again, and flicked his gaze to the, equally small, red envelope that the letter had come in. He picked it up, turned it over in his fingers, and examined the small gold drawing of a flower on the front. A rose. It was all incredibly romantic, (and embarrassing) but also frustratingly anonymous.
Ryan furrowed his eyebrows at the two paper objects in his hands, and when an answer wasn't revealed just by looking threateningly at them, he huffed and sheathed the powder pink letter back in its' vermilion home. He placed the envelope to the side, next to his alarm clock, and got up to get dressed, put his face paint on and find something for breakfast, hoping to take his mind off his situation, even if it were only for ten minutes or so. And as he leaned back on his bed, rubbing his eyes, he didn't notice another pair of brown eyes peering at him with interest through a gap in his door, over top of black, wire-framed glasses.

_______________________________________________________

"Still don't know who they are, huh?" Jack sighed, walking over to Ryan's bed and looking at the discarded envelope. Ryan opened his eyes and looked at Jack, before sitting up and shutting them again with a sigh, rubbing the back of his neck.

"I honestly don't know, Jack. I mean, I know it wouldn't be anyone in the crew, 'cause both you Geoff are married, Michael's got Lindsay, Gavin's got Meg. . ." He trailed off before he got to Ray's name because if he was honest, he wanted them to be from Ray.

Ever since Geoff had hired the young sniper, something about him had just. . . Clicked with Ryan. His sarcastic jokes, his childish energy, his spontaneous moments; The gent loved it all. Not to mention his skill on heists, the concentrated face he always held when aiming, the way he felt completely at home lying on his stomach twenty stories up putting bullets though men's skulls without remorse; It made Ryan lightheaded and giddy. And the thought, even if it was merely a happy daydream, of Ray sitting at a computer, perhaps at the desk in his room just a couple of doors down, putting so much love and effort into each little letter, just for Ryan, was enough to warm his heart and put a wide smile on his face.

"Well, you've gotta figure it out soon, man. It's been a week. That's seven letters! And also, come downstairs. I made breakfast."

"Okay, and I know, I'm trying." Ryan let his gaze fall to the red envelope once more and Jack sighed, leaving Ryan to think, not helped the noise of the remaining crew waking up downstairs, chatting about everything and nothing. He tuned them out, conversations becoming mere background noise, as he felt his brain grab at the first few strings of an idea. He trotted over to the PC on his desk in the corner, firing it up, and began typing away.

And so, he laid his plans.

_____________________________________________

The next morning, Ryan was the first to wake in the Fake AH apartment. Not an unusual thing, but that made it even better; he wouldn't look suspicious. He was armed with a piece of baby blue card about the size of a business card, a deep blue envelope to fit it, and two pens: one black, and one silver.

He got to Ray's bedroom door and listened for any noise from inside before pushing the door open, slowly and silently. He tiptoed over to Ray's bedside table trying to calm the giddiness spreading through his body so his hands wouldn't shake while writing. He couldn't mess this up. He took the cap off the pen and wrote on the card in his neatest version of the compulsory cursive writing he had been made to learn at school all those years ago. He chuckled to himself. If only middle-school Ryan could see him now, he'd pay more attention in those classes. Or, more likely, call him a Gaylord, as immature teenagers liked to do. After he was satisfied, Ryan sat back on his haunches and immediately capped the pen, not wanting to accidentally ruin it. He picked the card up, smirking proudly at the words written surprisingly neatly (and legibly) on the blue paper.

I hope you don't mind
That I put down in words
How wonderful life is
While you're in the world.

Ryan smiled widely and shook his head at himself upon seeing the way he'd curled the end of the D in 'world' to have a little heart at the end. He ran once more over his handiwork, before slipping it into the envelope and taking the silver pen out of his jacket pocket. He flipped over the dark blue envelope and uncapped the pen, drawing a small silver moon, before sealing it and placing it neatly on the desk. Ryan then pocketed the two pens and wandered out of the sniper's room, silently thanking himself for the reputation he had of always looking suspicious; no one would suspect a thing.

_____________________________________________________

"Hey, Ryan, come look at this." Michael waved him over to where Ray was sat at the kitchen table, his face as pink as his rifle, hands clutching a familiar dark blue envelope. Ryan bit back a smirk and walked over, as nonchalantly as possible.

"Oh? What do we have here. . ?" He grinned maliciously.

"He hasn't opened it yet ." Michael explained, elbowing Ray to say that he should do so now. Ray mumbled something incoherently, embarrassed, but flicked open the envelope anyway, pulling out the card. His eyes flickered over the words, blushing harder with each syllable, before placing it flat, face down, on the table and blinking slowly.

"Well? What does it say?" Ryan asked.

"Yeah! Read it to us, Ray!" At this point, Geoff had wandered in, coffee in hand, and had come over to see what all the fuss was about. He leaned in over Michael's shoulder and chuckled.

"You too, huh?" Ray nodded and swallowed thickly, picking the paper back up. He cleared his throat before reading aloud.

"I- I hope you don't mind, that I put down in words. . . How beautiful life is while yo-you're in the world." He grinned, embarrassed, as Michael let out a whoop and Geoff wolf-whistled at him, Jack cheering from where he was standing at the stove, waving a celebratory wooden spoon.

"So. . . Who do you think it's from?" Ryan piped up, and everyone went silent again, listening intently.

"Ey, lads, gents! Why's everyone being so damn loud? Woke me up." A stretching Gavin strode in, breaking the silence and giving Ray a good excuse to ignore Ryan's question.

"Bout time, don't ya think, Gav?" Michael walked over to throw an arm round his boy's shoulders. "Ray got a love letter, and you missed him reading out the message, all embarrassed and everything." Michael laughed and Ray sent a middle finger his way.

"Who sent it, Ray?" Gavin yawned behind his hand, sharing a look with Geoff and then both men glancing at Ryan meaningfully.

Geoff and Gavin were the only other two who knew about Ryan's. . . Condition. Gavin knew because he had his suspicions and confronted Ryan about it. Geoff knew because he caught Ryan with his hands between his legs at the computer in his bedroom, pictures of Ray on the screen. It was sight Geoff could never burn out of his mind, no matter how much both himself and Ryan wanted him to.

"I don't know. Gotta be one of you guys though, right? How else would it get in here?"

"Maybe one of us was asked to give it to you from someone outside?" Jack suggested.

"Yeah, but then why would they leave it anonymously and not just hand it to me saying it was someone else?" Damn, Ray was smart. Ryan began to panic a little. What if Ray found out and told the others? They would laugh at him. His reputation would be ruined. The Mad King, a man feared though all of Los Santos, couldn't become known as the man who sent gay love letters to his co worker! He would be a laughing stock, no longer feared, but ridiculed. He could see it now.

"Trying to mug me, gaylord?'
'Why should I be scared of you?'
'What are you gonna do, love letter me to death?'

Ryan suddenly stood up straight and walked out of the room, silencing Michael and Gavin's eager chatting with Ray in deciphering who in the crew could have sent it.

He had made a mistake. A silly mistake that could ruin him for the rest of his life. Just because he fancied his own letters to be from Ray, didn't mean that they were. He had been blinded by his own love, and now look at the mess he'd made. He needed to think about things logically, not let his brain take himself away into a little dreamworld. Yes, that's all Ray was, a dream. A stupid, desperate dream that turned every glance in his direction into a loving gesture, every brush of their shoulders into a flirtatious touch. Stupid. Stupid. Stupid-

"Ryan." See, even Ray knew. Stupid Ryan. Stupid Ryan. Stupid, stupid-

"Ryan!" He was pulled back by his arm and he snapped back to reality as a car horn sounded and silver metal sped past mere inches from his painted nose.

"Jesus, Rye. Don't die on me." Ray joked. He leaned his chin on Ryan's shoulder from behind him. "What's on your mind?"

"Nothing." Ryan answered. Ray tutted.

"Come on, now. There's gotta be something for you to storm out like that and then not even realise you were walking right into the road."

"I'm fine, really. I just- I made a mistake. . ." Ray's face took on a look of sheer disappointment, before very obviously forcing a smile and squeezing Ryan's shoulders.

"Well. . . Everyone makes mistakes, it's okay!" He said, happily.

"Ray, its obvious that you're unhappy too. Don't try to fake it, what's wrong? You look like you're about to cry." Ryan turned around to face the younger man and Ray's smile wavered for a moment.

"Nothing's wrong, you worry too much. Now stop trying to change the subject!" He scolded Ryan jokingly. Ryan raised an eyebrow.

"Come on. You can tell me. What have I done?" He squeezed Ray's shoulder lightly. Ray sighed and looked up at Ryan once more, who's face showed he wouldn't stop pestering him until he spilled.

"W-Well. . . When you said you made a mistake. . . Was the mistake sending me that letter? W-Was I the mistake?" Rays eyes brimmed with tears. "I-I really thought you meant it. . ." His lip quivered and he buried his head into Ryan's shoulder, his own shaking slightly as he tried not to cry. "I'm such a fucking idiot. . . Stop crying, you loser. . . Shit. . . Pull yourself together. . ." He choked out a sob and Ryan could feel how tense all his muscles were from the effort of holding back his tears. The blonde man wrapped an arm around his shaking shoulders and the other around his back, pulling him closer and embracing him in a way that would seem to be a purely friendly gesture in case of rejection.

"Oh, Ray. . . Shh. . . Come on." Ryan murmured soothingly into Ray's ear, the smaller man letting out a whimper and clutching Ryan's back, digging his nose even further into the older mans' shoulder.

"The letter was the mistake, but you most certainly aren't. And it doesn't matter anymore, anyway," Ryan moved a hand from Ray's back up to the back of his head, pulling him into a comforting embrace and rocking back and forth on the pavement.

"Come on, lets go somewhere else. The roadside isn't exactly the best place to calm you down." Ryan let go of Ray, who pulled his hood up to hide his face and the pair walked briskly back into the apartment, Ray running ahead to be as fast as possible and not be seen or interrogated by any of the crew. He didn't want them to see him like this. The smaller man dashed up the stairs and across to Ryan's room, opening the door and then slipping in, shutting it afterward and immediately letting a small choked sob tumble from his lips. He slumped onto his stomach on Ryan's bed and cried into the blankets, not really sure of what he was crying about. Ryan had said there wasn't a problem with him, but it was most as though his brain refused to accept it; something must be wrong here.

He heard the door open and shut again, and then soft footsteps before the bed was weighed down next to him.

"Ray. C'mere." Ray felt himself being picked up under the arms and then he saw Ryan through the haze of tears. He climbed weakly over Ryan's legs and flopped droopily into his lap, arms round the blonde man's neck.

"Look at you. Your glasses have steamed up," He removed Rays glasses gently and folded them, putting them down next to him on the bed, his other hand rubbing the Puerto Rican's back soothingly. "There we go, that's better." He pulled Ray closer into his chest, resting his chin on top of the boy's head. Ray could feel the vibration in his throat as Ryan murmured sweet nothings to reassure him, and he found it very relaxing. His breathing began to regulate, and his heartbeat slowed to match Ryan's. Ray cuddled into the nape of the older man's neck, tightening his grip around his neck and hugging him gratefully.

"T-Thanks." He croaked and Ryan smiled into the top of his head. Ryan didn't want to risk losing this moment, but he was fairly sure that Ray saw him as more than a friend, and the burning question in his mind couldn't be suppressed.

"Hey, uh, Ray?" He pulled away from their embrace and looked into the smaller man's red eyes, smiling reassuringly to mask the nervousness he felt inside himself. That was another thing about Ray. He made Ryan feel things he doesn't normally feel: Fear, Jealousy, and Sadness, but also Love, Remorse, and Lust.

"What would you say if I asked you to. . . Be mine?" Ray's eyes widened and began to glisten again, a wide smile spread across his face.

"Isn't that what I said? I'll love you forever, Rye." He blushed, grinning at the reference to his letter.

"Oh, yes. Very clever." Ryan hummed, leaning forward to nuzzle Ray's nose affectionately. The two cautiously tilted their heads till their lips were brushing lightly together, their breath mingling, both men lost in the moment both had dreamed of since they set eyes on each other.

"What are you, some kind of man-liker?" Ray whispered against Ryan's lips before closing the gap to capture them in a sweet, gentle kiss. They both smiled into it, before pulling away slowly and merely cuddling tenderly for a moment, foreheads touching and pressing small kisses to each other's cheeks and lips occasionally. And, as they sat there in comfortable silence gazing into each other's eyes, Ryan had a thought.

While it was true that life was beautiful while Ray was here, now that he was Ryan's, the world was positively glowing.