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You Don't Know Shit

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“Yeah, I’m still hanging out with him. His cisgender ass is kind of desperate to get back together with me, so...”

Ian stands outside Trevor’s office, listening as the guy runs his mouth. “…ran off with his ex who from what he let slip was apparently doing time for attempted murder. Probably some kind of thug…Yeah, he’s southside. Well, Ian is too, but not like that.”

Ian feels his face growing hot. ‘Not like that’…like what, exactly? Like he knows shit about what Mickey is and isn’t. Like he knows shit about what I am…Jesus fucking Christ! He doesn’t even know I’m bipolar! And the cisgender bit…he loves throwing that in like a fucking insult. Like there’s something wrong with me for not being a quadri-racial, demisexual, intersex guydyke.

He puts up with Trevor’s bullshit on good days, but today isn’t one of those. It’s actually a downright fuck-up. Lip had relapsed last night; Ian had found him passed out under the L, over a mile from the house, and had to drag him to the hospital where he was now recovering from alcohol poisoning. And that’s not to mention Debbie being kicked out of Neil’s house and the fact that Carl had started working a corner again…

Trevor hangs up and notices Ian looking in at him, his expression morose despite his forest green eyes sparkling in the sunlight. “Hey, you look like you could use some cheering up. I was just talking to DX and they wants to do a Boystown crawl tonight. You in?”

“Hang on, who’s ‘they’?” Ian asks, despite himself.

“That’s DX’s pronoun, dude. You gotta step up your game,” Trevor smirks, getting up to reach a filing cabinet in the right hand corner of the room. “So are you in?”

“You gonna drag me to another bear bar and make me get blown by some fucking chub?” Ian bites back, enjoying the flicker of anger in Trevor’s eye.

“Dude, you got a problem with me on that?! I didn’t force you into anything. You were the one who wanted to…” Trevor starts, defensively. And suddenly, Ian is sick of him. The curly hair that once made his fingers itch now just make him long for a certain raven black… Don’t go there. That’s over.

“Whatever,” he says, loudly, interrupting Trevor. “I got shit to do anyway.”

“Oh, shit like what?” Trevor jumps, walking over and crossing his arms. “Am I gonna suddenly get a call a couple days from now…’Oh I’m so sorry Trev, I just ran off with my lunatic boyf-“

Ian sees red. “For once in your life, Trevor, SHUT THE FUCK UP! Just shut up! You don’t know shit about him!”

“You’re gonna defend him?!” Trevor yelled back. “Didn’t he try to kill someone?!”

“Oh, fuck you! You don’t know shit!”

“You keep telling me I don’t know shit, what shit is there to know already?!” Trevor said, his voice rising. “The guy tried to kill! Are you gonna give me a whole spiel about how that’s a product of his upbringing…”

Ian finds himself laughing hysterically, because the guy in front of him, who until recently he thought he might love, actually had the audacity to trash Mickey and act like he knew anything about the two of them. “I never realized what a fucking phony you are!” he bursts out shaking his head. “You pretend to care about ‘the underprivileged’ and ‘the poverty-stricken’ and all that, but that all goes out the window when it comes to my ex, like he doesn’t count or something? I apologized for running off with him, okay? Multiple goddamn times! What more do you want?!”

“It’s not about the cheating, Ian. It’s that you didn’t hesitate,” Trevor says quickly, taking a step back and lowering his tone. “I can find anyone else to screw, okay? So if you’d rather run off with your convict ex, then that pretty much-“

“Oh we’re done. We’re so fucking done!” Ian interrupts him again, feeling a significant weight lift off his chest at the words. “I’ll let you get on finding someone else to screw since you talk about that so much. And just so you know, he didn’t break up with me, I broke up with him and it had nothing to do with the bullshit he was in prison for. He was in prison for me, okay? He came out for me in front of his homophobic psycho of a father! He’s done a shit-load more for me than you ever can, so excuse me for going to see him one last time!”

Trevor’s face is turning a furious shade of red and he opens his mouth to speak, but Ian doesn’t let him talk. “And the reason I didn’t stay with him had nothing to with you! It had to do with my family and my fucking disease!”

“Your disease?” Trevor bursts in. “What, that you’re a lying, cheating, asshole?”

“No,” Ian whispers, getting right in his face. “Because I’m fucking bipolar is why, but you wouldn’t know that. The meds are finally starting to work and I don’t feel like I’m about to crash and blank out all the time anymore, okay? And I didn’t want to put him through another hell. That’s why I broke up with him in the first place. That ‘thug’ is ten times the guy you are. And in case you wanna know, the shit I gotta deal with now is my older brother who I found dying under the tracks last night. So fuck you.”

And before Trevor can get a word in, Ian barges out of the office, letting the door slam behind him.

Fuck, that felt good, is all he can think as he makes his way up the stairs to the subway. That prick can do what the fuck he likes, so long as I don’t need to hear him talking shit about Mickey.