"You fucker," Lin yelled, pointing a gun at Ramos' forehead, "You motherfucker. How many times do I have to tell you to not touch my guns? Ramos, it isn't that hard!"
Anthony flinched, gritting his teeth. It was an accident, kinda really? He was cleaning up, that's literally the only thing he's good for these days, and he put it in his (Lin's) room! It was a sensible decision, and he really didn't need Lin breathing up his back.
He watched Jonathan emerge from the stairs, rubbing his eyes groggily. "What happened?"
"Go back to bed." Lin growled, not turning to face him.
"Don't tell me what to fucking do." Groff retorted, coming up behind him. He came up behind Lin, carefully taking the gun from him. Lin flinched, still not very used to sharing any sentiment with anyone.
"Ramos," Jon started, "I can't keep saving your ass." He forcefully grabbed Lin's hand, dragging him behind.
"What are you doing?" Lin scowled.
"Taking you to bed so you can suck me off." Jonathan replied nonchalantly. At least it successfully shut him up.
Anthony exhaled, glancing at Chris.
"Y'know," Chris ran a hand over his face, "I still don't know how Groff does that."
"What do I do?" Jonathan asked from the stairwell, grabbing a cup.
Chris stammered, "You, well- you have," He paused, trying to see if Lin was near, "You have control over him. He hears you out."
"He hates me," Jon explained, "And I hate him." Nothing more, nothing less.
The other two men stayed silent, watching Groff leave the room.
But the reality was, it was a lot more than that, and it always would be.
