Work Text:
If he's being completely honest, Carl has no idea how the argument started in the first place, let alone what it's about. The only thing that he does know is that it's about Mickey; Ian and Lip keep glancing at the Milkovich from their self-proclaimed battlefield in the living room.
Mickey has yet to attempt to intervene or defend himself—no doubt already aware of the fact that trying to break up a fight between Ian and Lip is like trying to win a shootout without a gun. As a result, the only thing Mickey's actually done in the last ten minutes is get four beers from the fridge and pass them out to Debbie, Kev, Carl, and himself. Now Mickey's just sitting with Carl and Debbie at the kitchen table; Kev was sitting at the bar, eyes flying back and forth from the argument in the other room to Mickey like he he's watching some demented version of a tennis match. Veronica and Fiona, to their part, are standing in no man's land—the little juncture between the kitchen and the living room—in case a physical disbandment is in order. And, if the clenched fists are anything to go by, is seeming more and more likely.
To say that it's getting awkward is really an understatement, what with Lip yelling about how Ian just needed to find another ass to stick it into and Ian screaming about how he liked Mickey's ass just fine. So, because apparently Carl hates himself almost as much as he hates seeing his siblings argue, he decides to sacrifice himself for the good of the people who didn’t want to know anything regarding Ian’s dick.
"I'm dating someone," Carl states quietly.
Mickey, however, glances over with a glint in his eyes that Carl couldn’t place. "What's her name?" he asks, and if Carl didn’t know any better he would say that he hears a hint of amusement in his voice.
Carl sits for a minute and listens to the rapidly progressing screaming match between Lip and Ian, because he hadn't thought this far ahead. He’d thought that maybe people would just hear his voice, not his words, and then he could fix Lip and Ian. How was he supposed to explain to Mickey, as well as Debbie and Kev—who were now also listening—that he was dating the only son of the family feared even more than the Milkovich's?
"His name's Luke. We met in detention," Carl eventually settles on, keeping his eyes on his beer so he doesn't have to see anyone's reactions. He stays that way for a minute before the lack of verbal reaction begins making him uncomfortable enough that he can't help but look over.
Kev has his mouth hanging open in surprise; Mickey has a smirk on his face like he already knew (a fact that Carl is deciding to ignore for his own sanity); and Debbie looks like she's scanning her brain for something possibly incriminating, which is something that Carl has come to learn never means anything good, especially considering it makes her made look like Bonnie used to right before she was about to do something dangerous or highly illegal.
Carl can't help but smile at the memory.
"Wait a second! You're not dating Luke Agnes, are you? Like, the Luke Agnes? The guy that was arrested last year for having drugs at school and graffitied guns onto principal's car last month?" Debbie finally exclaims, despite knowing exactly who he is, because apparently her inherent desire for shock value has decided to make an appearance. Either way, unfortunately—or fortunately, Carl isn’t too sure anymore—her voice is loud enough that it manages to stop Ian and Lip's argument from going any further.
And okay, yeah, that was him. But to really understand it’d probably be beneficial probably to know who Luke was.
So pause. Rewind.
Luke Agnes is considered one of the most terrifying guys at their high school, and he’s commonly avoided strictly on principle. When he walks down the hallways people parted like he was fuckin' Moses, and if he near you for even a second then you’d shrink away in fear. He was intimidating and attractive and if you dared to look long enough, you’d realize that looking at him was kind of like looking at a hurricane: they were both beautifully destructive.
His dark hair fell into his eyes and he has a sleeve of tattoos on his right arm that look like a second skin. He towers over Carl, and even though Carl will deny it until he’s blue in the face, he actually kinda likes it. His family is a part of an old school South Side gang, and he had a bandana in his back pocket with their colors on it that he wore like a brand. His eyes were always alive and alert, scanning for threats and scouting for possible weapons, but when he looked at Carl they melted. His smiles are stunning and his smirks are always laced with cruel intentions.
Fuck it all, but Carl is pretty sure he’s in love with him.
Press play.
So yeah. He’s amazing.
And Carl honestly thinks that what Luke did to the principals car is completely awesome, considering she's the biggest bitch on the planet, but that might just be because she looks at Carl and Debbie with disgust whenever they pass by her. Actually, if Carl really thought about it he had no idea why Luke did that to her car; he wonders what kind of grudge his boyfriend holds against her.
Carl opens his mouth to defend Luke before he notices the shell-shocked looks on Ian and Fiona's faces. He isn't sure if the cause for their expressions is the fact that he has a boyfriend in the first place or from the shit that said boyfriend has done. Carl doesn't know which option he likes better, so he decides to just ignore it as he slumps down in his seat, crosses his arms, and points his beer bottle in Debbie's direction in confirmation.
"I didn't know he was gay," Debbie muses, then smirks and adds, "that's probably why he turned Holly down last year."
“He’s bi,” Carl mumbles in a voice quiet enough that only Debbie can hear. He doesn’t give her time to respond before shrugging and announcing, “That’s probably not the only reason.” Debbie snorts.
"A-Are you gay, Carl?" Fiona asks awkwardly, finally breaking free from her frozen stance near the entrance to the kitchen.
Carl rolls his eyes. "No."
Lip proceeds to wrap his arm around Ian, seemingly forgetting about their argument—which means that at least one good thing came from Carl's decision to literally ruin his own life, thank God—as he gestures at Ian with a sweep of his hand, "You're either gay, like this asshat, or you're straight, like me." Distantly, Carl hears Kev laugh.
"Actually, you can be bisexual," Debbie pipes up, "which means you are romantically and sexually attracted to both genders and are mostly impartial to which you prefer."
Carl rolls his eyes again, because you can always count on Debbie to know the most useless shit, and nods. Out of the corner of his eye he notices Ian's mouth twitch upwards.
"Wait, so your boyfriend's been to juvie?" Lip asks, apropos of absolutely nothing, before flicking his eyes toward Mickey in distaste. Ian immediately tenses, his previously relaxed stance changing so quickly that Carl almost gets whiplash. He can't decide whether he wanted to smile or vomit at Ian's instinctive need to defend Mickey.
"Hey, no, Luke's chill," Mickey exclaims before Carl has the opportunity to say anything. "His family always gives us a little more of the cut after a successful deal, and they’ve saved me and Mandy’s asses more than once. 'Sides, they couldn't pin that dope on him anyways. He was only in a couple months, and that was only ‘cause of his last name."
"Comforting," Fiona mumbles.
"Wait," Ian turns to Mickey, and what he says next makes Carl physically throw his head onto the table, "is he the guy that broke that officers jaw when-”
"Yes, sure," Carl exclaims quickly, not because he doubts that the story is true, but because it is not helping his case at all. "That's him. Jesus, this isn't a fucking interrogation."
"Well, seeing as you take it up the ass now," Lip pauses when Ian cuffs him on the back of the head before smirking, "I think this is an interrogation."
Fiona snickers, temporarily forgetting her apparent dislike for Luke. Thank God for the small miracles. But sadly it was short lived.
“Or,” Mickey begins slowly with a shit eating grin on his face makes Carl lament existing, “Luke could come over himself. Me and him are goin’ on a drug run next week with Iggy and Luke’s sisters Layna and Lexi. Me and Luke could come over here after.”
Carl closes his eyes, regretting every action that has led him to this point; he really hadn't thought this through at all.
Smiling, Ian walks over to where Mickey is sitting and stands behind his chair—leaning over him, resting his forearms on Mickey’s shoulders. When Carl looks up he has to physically fight the urge to gag as Ian kisses Mickey’s head and smirks. “Remember when we had to come here for dinner?”
“Yeah,” Lip barks sharply, his eye twitching. “I remember.”
Carl definitely remembers. The night had ended with a knife in the wall, a black eye, a visit from the cops, a mob of angry hookers, and really really loud sex. Hopefully when Luke comes the last one will be the only reoccurring theme.
Veronica, who has remained more or less silent up until now, begins fanning herself as she says, “Oh yeah, that night was hot."
“Agreed,” Kev responds, smirking as he nods in his wife’s direction.
Fiona turns to Mickey and winks. “I think that's an awesome idea,” Fiona says.
“Do I get a say in this?” Carl asks even though he already knows the answer.
“No,” everyone responds in unison, before bursting out laughing.
Carl slumps even farther into his chair; he wonders if this is what it feels like to die.
He glances at his phone and kinda wished that Luke wasn't at a deal with his sisters, because right now he wants nothing more than to call him and hear his voice. Carl wants to punch himself in the face the moment the thought crosses his mind. When he looks up he notices Debbie smirking at him, which means she’s obviously noticed.
Next week is going to be hell.