Safehouse (Brohm GTA AU)
Another fic for you guys!
@fan0fthearts requested “Soo…..could you imagine ohm and bryce being in the GTA verse where ohm just happened to stumble across the most averagest of guys (bryce) during a major heist?”
Well, I did my best, and here it is! I hope everyone enjoys!
Ohm ran out of the bank, running towards the getaway car, where Terroriser was ready at the wheel, the engine gunned. Vanoss, Delirious, Cartoonz, and Nogla were all right behind him, headed towards their escape. Then a bullet from the line of police hit one of the back wheels. Another nearly struck Terroriser, who subsequently dived out of the car.
“Everybody, scatter!” Vanoss shouted, taking off. “They can’t get all of us. You know where to meet up!”
Ohm nodded once and raced away, clutching the tote bag filled hundred dollar bills that he’d been entrusted with. He ducked behind various cars and people to avoid the gunfire, breathing heavily. Under his mask, he had a wild grin.
As he ran into an alley, a bullet hit his leg. He tried to push through the pain and keep going, and, for a long time, he managed to. He was halfway across the city when he finally collapsed, bag slung over his shoulder, pants’ leg matted with blood. He was sure that the police would find him soon.
When he woke up, he had no clue where he was. And Ohm always knew where he was. Oh, sure, he could make a few educated guesses as to his location, but he didn’t know for certain, and it bothered him.
He was on a sofa in what appeared to be a relatively middle-class apartment, which was well looked after, but ever so slightly messy. He sat up and blinked, staring down at his injured leg. It was wrapped in clean white bandages. There was a full glass of water on the table next to him, and he drank it thirstily. It felt like days since he’d last drank anything.
Suddenly, he remembered the tote bag full of money. Where the hell was it? That was important, easily the most important thing he had. The only other contender being his pistol, which he could feel weighing down his inside pocket. That was a relief, at least.
There was slight noise coming from a room adjacent to the living room. He got up, grimacing as he put his weight on his leg, and slowly made his way over towards the door.
Looking in, he saw an unfamiliar man sitting on a bed. He was blond, relatively young, had to be in his early twenties, and his light blue eyes kept swapping between staring at the television across from him, the mask he held in his hands, and the open tote bag that sat in front of his feet. Alarm raced through Ohm.
He pointed his pistol at the man. “Hands up.”
The man flinched, dropping the mask and raising his arms before glancing over at Ohm, flinching again. “Oh, you’re awake…” the man trailed off, sounding more than a little terrified.
“Where the hell am I, and who the fuck are you?” Ohm growled out, moving forwards slowly, getting ready to reach down and snatch up the bag and his mask.
“I- I’m Bryce McQuaid, I’m- I’m just a college student. You were passed out outside of my apartment building, like, bleeding to death. I grabbed you and your stuff and figured that you could use my help, that’s all. I patched up your leg, and I was just-”
The guy was rambling, and Ohm was too exhausted to deal with it. “Bullshit.” He growled out. “No one in Los Santos is ‘just a college student’, especially no one that spent-” he glanced at the nearby clock, which blinked with the time of day, “-five hours harboring a wanted criminal and looking at a bag filled with thousands in cash.” Bryce opened his mouth to say something, getting more and more scared, but Ohm cut him off. “If any of that shit is missing, you’ll be paying for it with more than your bank account. What’s your deal, anyway? What shit have you done that drove you to saving me?” He felt wrong without his mask, naked. Ohm generally wasn’t the violent one on the team, he was one of the calmer killers. Delirious was the crazy one, who went all out. But without his mask or his team, Ohm couldn’t stay calm.
“I- I’m a college student!” The guy’s hands were shaking slightly. “I have debts, of course I was tempted to take the money. But I’m not grabbing it when you have a gun to my face! J-just take the money and go, please!”
Ohm narrowed his eyes at the guy, then, in one quick swipe, hit him over the head with the butt of his gun. Bryce fell over, unconscious. Then Ohm grabbed the totebag and his mask and headed out the door.
He paused, just before leaving the apartment, glancing back at the sleeping figure as he slid his mask over his face. Now that he knew he wasn’t a threat, he realized that the man wasn’t half bad looking. “Thanks for bandaging me up, Bryce McQuaid.” He said quietly. Then he was gone, off to find the rest of his crew.
Later, when he checked the bag for the money, he realized that there was exactly one thousand dollars missing. He was going to have to pay Bryce another visit sometime soon.
The deal had been going fine at first. Then, as it turned out, the other gang had been idiotic enough to let an undercover cop into their ranks. The police burst in as soon as the drugs were pulled out, and everything went to hell as it became a three way war, gang against gang, criminals against police.
The first thing Ohm did was shoot the weasel who’d betrayed everyone directly in the head.
Ohm’s crew, BBS, seemed like it was going to have to retreat. Wildcat was lagging behind, already having taken several shots to his side, some merely clipping him, some buried in his flesh. Ohm saw a cop aiming towards his teammate, and was about to shout out a warning, but before he did, a bullet hit the officer’s hand, and he yelled in pain. It was unclear where the shot had come from, but Ohm was grateful for it. That stray bullet was the only reason they got out of there with no casualties.
Once again, they split up to get back to base. It was safer that way. Ohm had a bullet lodged in his bicep, and he needed to get that fixed up, asap. Which meant he had to find someplace where there were bandages and the tools required to pull the sucker out of him.
Luckily, he recognized the neighborhood, and knew exactly where he could go.
Ohm heard the apartment door open, but was too busy extracting the bullet with a pair of tweezers to look up. But he heard a bag being set down on a counter, a soft and exhausted groan, and the sound of feet moving around the kitchen.
After a few minutes, the bathroom door opened, and he took the his eyes off of his task. “McQuaid.” He greeted calmly.
The blond man blinked at him, face paling, then just shut the door, as though that would get Ohm to disappear. He heard Bryce lean heavily against the other side.
“That’s not very polite. I’m just here to use your tweezers and some bandages, I’ll be outta your hair in just a few minutes.” He gave a lazy grin. The only sound from outside the bathroom was that of Bryce’s weight slowly sliding down the door, like his legs were having trouble supporting him.
Ohm focused back on the task at hand, finally managing to pull the last bit of metal out of his arm. Then he grabbed the cloth bandages he’d set nearby and started to wrap up his wound.
When he was done, he opened the bathroom door again. Bryce was sitting on the floor, head between his knees, breathing heavily. He flinched when Ohm’s shoe’s came into his line of vision, but didn’t look up.
“If you didn’t want me to show up again, you shouldn’t have taken any of my money.” Ohm remarked casually, opening the fridge to see what was inside. He made a face. This guy really must’ve been a college student. There was nothing good in there. “I mean, it could’ve been worse, you could’ve taken more, and then I’d’ve killed you for it, but as it is, you’re gonna have to pay back that thousand somehow. Be glad I’m just showing up for bandages.”
Bryce didn’t say anything, just curled tighter in on himself.
“Well, I suppose that’s all for now, but don’t get too used to my absence. I’ll be back, sooner or later.” Ohm headed out the door, smirking.
Originally, he had considered killing Bryce for stealing a thousand dollars, but he’d decided it was too small a fund for that. So instead he decided to hold it over the guys head, for as long as he could. It was better to deplete a stranger’s supplies than his crew’s. Not to mention that Bryce was a bit too good-looking for Ohm to let him go just yet.
He’d figure out some other ways to make Bryce pay it back later, when an opportunity arose. For now, he had to head back to base. It had been long enough that the police wouldn’t be tailing him.
Ohm was the last person in, but only by a bit. Wildcat had only gotten there a few minutes earlier, having been slow due to his wounds. Vanoss and Delirious were discussing what to do with the drugs they’d been trying to sell, since the other gang wasn’t exactly a contender for them anymore.
“Storing them’s the best way to go. No one’s gonna want drugs from a bust.” Vanoss insisted.
Delirious was clearly about to argue, but before he could, an unfamiliar voice rang out through the warehouse. “Just sell them to some desperate druggy. They don’t care where they came from.” The accent was strange, unplaceable. The whole group turned to find it’s source.
A stranger was walking up the metal staircase to the open office, where everyone had assembled. He was dressed in a well-tailored suit. He didn’t look at all wary of one of the biggest gangs in Los Santos, but instead just annoyed, like he’d been told that a restaurant was all out of the meal he’d ordered. Out of the corner of his eye, Ohm saw everyone stiffen.
A radio down on his belt crackled to life. “Any sign of ‘em in the western warehouses? Over.” Everyone there knew what type of radio it was. Police.
Everyone that was in good enough shape to aim a gun fixed theirs on the stranger. He just rolled his eyes as he brought the radio up to his mouth. “No, it’s all clear. I think they must’ve headed east. Over.”
“Copy that. Over.” Once the officer over the radio had finished talking, the man slid the radio back on his belt and focused on the gang members, specifically Wildcat. “Tyler.” He greeted, coldly.
WIldcat forced a grin, seemingly not at all alarmed that the officer knew him by name. “Craig. How was work?”
The rest of the gang stayed quiet, waiting to see what was going to happen. Ohm was busy trying to figure out this guy’s rank in the force. He couldn’t just be any other officer, because he was in a suit, not a uniform.
“Shut. The hell. Up.” Craig’s annoyed look cemented into a glare. “I had to shoot one of my team to keep a bullet from putting you down permanently.”
“You shot a cop for me, sweety? I’m flattered.” Wildcat’s grin grew larger. “You’ll be proposing next, I’ll bet.” He laughed, like this was especially funny for some reason.
“Tyler, I am being serious. And I only shot his hand.” Craig growled out, eyes blazing. “I thought we had made an agreement about drug deals, and your part in them.”
Tyler’s grin faded in an instant. “And I thought we had made an agreement about your involvement with my work.”
“Your work is revolting. I don’t want to be involved in it. That’s why I told you to stay away from the drug deals.” The man gave the warehouse a disgusted look.
“It’d help if you told me where the spies are hiding.”
“No. I’m not throwing away my job for you, Tyler.”
“I could say the same thing.” Wildcat fixed the man with a steady expression.
“I have a real job, a legal one.” Craig hissed at Wildcat.
“Just ‘cause mine isn’t legal doesn’t mean it isn’t real.” He shot back.
“Alright,” apparently Vanoss couldn’t take it anymore. “Who the hell are you?”
Craig didn’t even look over, angry eyes still focused on Wildcat. “I, Mr. Vanoss, am the reason Mr. Calibre is going to be out of prison in a few months, as opposed to next year.” Nogla’s eyes widened. “I am the reason your warehouse has been, for the most part, ignored by the police,” Delirious and Vanoss exchanged bewildered glances. “And I am the reason that Mr. Ohmwrecker here,” Ohm’s eyes narrowed suspiciously. “Wasn’t chased for more than a few blocks at that heist you pulled earlier this month, despite the fact that his leg was clearly hit, when no one else had been disabled in any way.” Finally he glanced over at the two leaders of the BBS. “I am also Tyler’s partner, which, sadly, means that I have to clean up his messes, otherwise he won’t be coming home at night.” He raised his chin, extending his hand. “Detective Mini.” He introduced himself. “It is in no way a pleasure to meet you. You’ve already caused me enough trouble, without knowing I existed.”
Vanoss didn’t accept Mini’s hand. “Wildcat? Care to confirm any of this?”
Wildcat shrugged, then winced when he pulled on his injured muscles. “All of it, I guess? I told you I knew a guy on the inside.”
“You never said you were so close.”
“It didn’t seem noteworthy.” Wildcat bit his lip, not meeting anyone’s eyes.
Detective Mini was straightening his suit, which had wrinkled during the argument. “I should be heading out now. Chief will be wondering where I’ve gotten to if I don’t get back soon.” The gang watched him head back downstairs with narrowed eyes. He paused halfway down. “Oh, and Tyler?”
“You’re sleeping on the couch tonight.” And with that, he easily strode down the last of the stairs, exiting their view to the sound of Wildcat’s disappointed groans.
Things were quiet for a month or so. Well, as quiet as they could be, when you were a member of the BBS.
Then, due to some mistakes made by a completely different department, Detective Mini and his peers underwent investigation for corruption, and a few interesting patterns showed up in his papers. Most notably, his tendency to turn his head away from the actions of the BBS. He’d managed to get a message to Wildcat telling the entire gang to lay low for as long as the investigation was going on. To fall off of the map for a bit. So they’d temporarily split up, going their own ways.
Ohm needed a safehouse. He’d grabbed his share of the money, just in case this ended up being big, and taken off, determined to hide someplace no one would expect.
The apartment of one everyday college student seemed ideal.
“Brycey, I’m home…” Ohm let his sing-song call ring throughout the apartment.
There was a scuffling noise from the kitchen, more noise than one person could make on their own. He could just hear a muffled voice. His eyes narrowed, and he pulled out his gun and crept towards the door. The sight that greeted him was one he hadn’t expected to find here, of all places.
Bryce was tied to a chair, his mouth gagged. He was extremely battered, cuts and bruises covering his face. His eyes pleaded with Ohm for help. There was an armed man standing behind him, facing Ohm, ready to battle if necessary.
Ohm raised an eyebrow. He recognized the intruder. It was a member of one of the nastier gangs around Los Santos, a gang that tended to act as loan sharks.
“Ohmwrecker.” The man greeted him. “I didn’t realize you associated with termites like this.”
Ohm lowered his gun slightly, but kept his finger on the trigger. “He owes me a debt. I just came to collect some of the payment.”
“That’s funny.” The man smiled wickedly. “See, Mr. McQuaid owes me a debt as well. About nine thousand dollars, actually. It would’ve been ten, but he actually managed to get me the first thousand. He wasn’t so good about the rest.”
Bryce flinched, and Ohm raised his eyebrows. He’d payed a thousand dollars, huh?
“Well, here, I’ll make you a deal.” Ohm tried his best to sound placating. “You leave him to me, and I’ll pay his debt to you off. Then we won’t have to fight over who he has to deal with.”
The man raised an eyebrow. “Really?”
“Sure. I’m about to have a lot of free time, so I’m sure I can work something out with McQuaid here.”
Ohm reached into his bag and pulled out nine thousand dollars. “Here you are. Now, why don’t you leave him to me.”
The man left, satisfied, and Ohm turned to Bryce, who looked even more scared, if possible. He was trying his best to shrink back into his chair. “You know, you’re incredibly lucky I’m nice.” Ohm said, coldly. “And that I have an easier way of repaying my favors than he has.” Bryce nodded slightly, a few tears starting to trickle down his cheeks. Ohm took the gag out of Bryce’s mouth, but he didn’t say anything, just started to breathe heavily. “Aren’t you going to say thank you?”
Bryce took a deep, shaky breath, closing his eyes. “Th- thank you, O- Ohmwrecker.”
“Good.” Ohm went around behind the chair and untied the knots binding the other man. When he was free, Ohm pulled him to his feet. Bryce wobbled, and started to topple over, and Ohm caught him. “Steady.” Ohm led Bryce over to the sofa, setting him down on it. “Stay here. I’ll get some bandages.”
When he returned from the bathroom, where all the first aid materials were stored, Bryce had yet again curled in on himself, clutching his legs to his chest. Now, there were two steadily flowing rivers of tears running down his cut, battered, and bruised face, and his shoulders were shaking with sobs. Ohm paused, then sat down next to him, putting the bandages to the side.
He pulled Bryce against his shoulder, pleased when the man just sank his face into it, as opposed to moving away. He rubbed at Bryce’s back soothingly. They sat like that for several minutes, until Bryce was all cried out, just shaking as he leaned against the gang member’s side.
Bryce seemed to realize what position he was in, and went to move away, breathing panicky again, but Ohm held him in place.
“Hey, it’s okay, babe. Don’t worry about it.” Ohm moved up his hand to run through Bryce’s hair. “I’m not gonna hurt you.”
“W- why not? I- I can’t pay you back, we both- we both know that.” Bryce tried to move away again, but Ohm’s grip tightened slightly, and he froze.
“I wouldn’t want you gorgeous face to get any more battered than it already is.” Ohm cupped Bryce’s chin in his hands, tilting his head up so that he was looking Ohm in the eye through the holes in his mask. “That’d be such a waste.”
“A- a waste of my face…” Bryce looked even more nervous now. “So, there’s something- something, um, else you’d like to do with my face?”
Ohm grinned. He wished his mask was off, so Bryce could see it. “I can think of a few things.” He said, voice as close to a purr as humanly possible.
Bryce’s cheeks heated up like stovetops. “I- I’m not sure how comfortable I am with that…” he whispered, chewing on his lip.
Ohm eyed the bright red spot that formed where his teeth worried at his skin. “Oh, don’t worry, you’ve got a week or two while your face heals up.” He moved closer, the hand that wasn’t on Bryce’s side moving up to lift his mask off of his face. The way Bryce turned an even darker red at the sight of his wicked smile gave him life. “But I’m sure I can think of some things to do until then.”
“Uh, like?” Bryce was breathing shallowly now, his eyes locked on Ohm’s.
Ohm didn’t answer, instead moving closer and pressing their mouths together, sucking on Bryce’s bottom lip, before focusing on entering the other man’s mouth with his tongue and getting a good taste of him. There was a mixture of coffee and cinnamon, probably from the last thing he’d drunk, with the slightest hint of blood from the battering that Bryce had taken from the loan shark.
After a second, surprisingly, but happily, Bryce returned to kiss, and Ohm took that as an invitation to deepen it, pulling the smaller man onto his lap. They stayed like that for as long as they could until needing to breathe, and then they sat with their foreheads pressed up against each other, Ohm with his eyes open, staring up at Bryce with a ridiculous grin, and Bryce with his closed, his breathing even for the first time since Ohm had arrived.
After a moment, Bryce spoke up very quietly. “Can we keep doing that?”
Ohm smirked, and was about to suggest that they go even farther than just making out on the sofa, but one of the disposable phones that Vanoss had pressed into his hands when he left rang, and so he groaned and pulled away, setting a disappointed Bryce back down on the sofa so he could get the phone from his bag.
“Evan,” Ohm snapped. They never used their code names while on the phone, because that was what anyone that was listening would know them by. “You’re a complete cockblock. What do you want?” He was more than a little irritated.
He could hear the frown on his boss’ face. “We’ve only been split up for about two hours. How the hell could you have gotten with anyone in that time? You know what? It doesn’t matter. Tyler’s partner sent him a message. We’re gonna have to lay low for a few weeks. Don’t come out until I call you again, alright?”
Ohm felt a smile creep it’s way back onto his face, and he glanced over at Bryce. A few weeks stuck in this apartment? “I can handle that.” He informed Vanoss, before closing the phone and turning back towards the other man in the room. “So, where were we?”