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Mickey and Luke tumble through the door twenty minutes after they said they would, Luke with a black eye and Mickey with what looks like some kind of flesh wound on his left side. Everyone stops at the sudden movement; Mickey and Luke stand frozen halfway into the house, Luke's hand still on the doorknob.
“Mick,” Ian chokes out after a minute as he runs to his boyfriend, the first of the group to snap out of it. Ian looks terrified. It makes Carl’s throat close up.
Ian gently runs his hands across Mickey's chest and stomach, eyes flying wildly as he looks for other wounds. The process seems routine in a way that implies that they've been in this exact same situation on numerous occasions.
Carl doesn't know how to feel about that, only that hopes he never finds himself in Ian's shoes.
“I'm fine, Gallagher,” Mickey remarks dryly, only to wince when Ian stares pointedly down at the growing blood stain on his shirt.
After another minute of scanning over Mickey with jerky, panicked movements, Ian lets out a quiet sigh of relief; he seems to have reached the conclusion that none of Mickey's injuries are life-threatening because he immediately drags Mickey upstairs as he mumbles something about getting him a change of clothes.
Everyone remaining immediately shift their focus to Luke the moment that the pair are out of sight, and his boyfriend grimaces minutely at the sudden attention.
“Hey, sorry for the delay,” he says slowly, his voice raspy and deep in a way that never fails to make Carl's stomach turn. “We got into a bit of an, uh, situation. I’m Luke.”
When nobody makes any move to acknowledge him, their jaws still wide open and eyes bugged out, he winces again before walking over to Carl.
He keeps walking until they're close enough that Carl has to tilt his head up a bit to look at him. Once he does, Luke reaches one hand up to cup Carl's cheek and gently begins rubbing his thumb across his cheekbone, an action that Carl discretely leans into. Luke smirks a bit at his reaction before moving to wrap his arm around Carl's shoulders and kiss his temple. “Sorry it took so long, sweetheart,” he murmurs into Carl’s ear, his voice quiet enough that nobody else can hear.
“It's okay,” he responds breathlessly, his voice just as quiet.
“Damn, he’s hot,” he hears Veronica whisper to Fiona in a voice that's far too loud to actually be considered a whisper. Carl glares at them for a second before flicking his gaze up at Luke, who miraculously—and thankfully—doesn’t seem to have heard the comment, before turning back to resume glaring at the pair.
Thank god for small miracles.
“You think everyone is hot,” Fiona responds with a smile. They proceed to laugh until they can't breathe, only to laugh even harder when they notice Carl glaring. Fuckers.
Carl closes his eyes and takes a deep breath. “Let's go sit in the living room.”
Debbie shrugs in agreement before walking in and sitting on the floor to color with Liam. Once Veronica finally stops laughing, she and Kevin somehow manage to squeeze themselves into the chair. Luke pulls Carl to the couch and sits them down on the right side before strategically maneuvering him so that he's between Luke and the arm of the couch. Fiona plops down next to them and Lip remains standing.
Fiona opens her mouth to say something, but Lip beats her to it. “So, Luke,” he drawls, crossing his arms. “You’re the guy that's fucking my little brother?”
Despite the fact that Fiona turns to look at Lip incredulously and Kev chokes on his beer, Luke looks completely unfazed by the relatively accusatory question. “Well, I prefer the term dating,” he responds with a shrug before wrapping his arm around Carl’s shoulders. “But I guess that works too.”
Lip, who clearly wasn't expecting that response, is shocked silence for a minute, and it’s because of his lack of verbal reaction that Carl foolishly thinks that the rest of the night might actually be alright. He's proven wrong the very next second when Lip decides to shift to a different—yet just as confrontational—route of conversation.
”Why is it that Luke is so open about his relationship with Carl when it took Mickey forever to even look at Ian in public?” Lip asks with a sneer.
“Lip,” Fiona warns, her eyes hard. In a twisted way, it makes Carl happy that Fiona's going against Lip on this one. Mickey's awesome, and Carl considers him a friend. He's getting really fucking tired of Lip constantly ragging on him.
And despite the fact that Lip throws his hands up in an insincere gesture of surrender, it's accompanied by a smirk that Carl's pretty sure everybody in the room wants to punch off by this point.
“Probably because my family isn’t run by a tyrannical, homophobic douchebag,” Luke responds angrily, always ready to defend his friend. "Not anymore, at least." Carl turns his head into Luke's shoulder to hide his smile.
Kevin squints before adding, “Lip, dude, you really don’t know shit about Terry Milkovich.”
“And you do?”
“He’d been going to the Alibi for years before he got arrested, man. He almost beat Mickey to death in the damn place a couple years back. Your brother was there, remember? Or did you not know about that?” Kev asks, raising an eyebrow expectantly.
Carl feels Luke’s tense at the mention of the bar fight; no matter how many times Carl told him that there was nothing he could've done, Luke still blames himself for not being there to help Mickey and Ian.
“Of course I remember,” Lip bites back. “I just also happen to remember that the whole fucking thing wouldn’t have happened if Mickey hadn’t gotten that bitch pregnant.”
“I didn’t want to,” Mickey says quietly, causing everyone to turn and look at where he and Ian are standing at the top of the stairs. Ian looks ready to fucking murder Lip.
“The fuck you didn’t,” Lip spits back, lip curling in disgust.
“I didn't," Mickey responds defensively, and despite the fact that Mickey is clearly attempting to sound hostile, the effect is ruined by the way his voice cracks at the end.
Ian turns to Mickey and whispers, “It’s okay, Mick, you don’t have to talk about it,” before turning to glare at Lip, fists clenched. “And you,” he starts, hatred all but dripping from his voice, “you can step the fuck down, Lip.”
“Why the hell do you always stick up for him?” Lip yells incredulously. “He cheated on you! He abused you! He-”
Luke's tense next to him, Carl's hand in his the only thing grounding him. Mickey looks the closest to crying that Carl's seen in a long time, if ever, and he hates it. He discretely takes his phone out of his pocket and types a message.
To: Svetlana
From: Carl
u need to come here and tell lip what happened with u and mickey
The response is almost immediate.
From: Svetetlana
To: Carl
Why
Carl sighs. This night is definitely going to end the same way as Ian and Mickey's meet-and-greet shit show.
To: Svetlana
From: Carl
lip is giving mickey shit abt it. he thinks he cheated on ian w/ u. mickey actually looks like he might cry.
From: Svetlana
To: Carl
Be there in minute
Carl closes his eyes and takes a deep breath before putting his phone back in his pocket and leaning closer to Luke. “I texted Svet. She’s comin’ over,” he whispers.
Luke raises an eyebrow before chuckling. “She gonna rip Lip apart?”
Carl looks up at him and smiles. “Hell yeah.” And she fucking is, because no matter how often she claims to hate Mickey almost all of them know she doesn't. If anything, she's actually pretty protective of him.
When Svetlana finally steps through their front door two minutes later everyone finally stops arguing.
“Hey, Svet,” Luke calls out as he raises a hand in greeting, a gesture that Svet responds to with a small nod of acknowledgment. Carl has always thought that their friendship is a bit weird, what with their initial hatred of each other.
Lip blinks. “Is everyone friends with Svetlana?” Then he blinks again. “Wait. What the hell is she even doing here?”
“You hurt piece of shit husband,” she responds tersely, fondness gracing her features when she glances at Mickey.
“Piece of shit is right,” Lip mumbles as he rolls his eyes before announcing louder, “He cheated on Ian with you.”
Her expression hardens and her eyes narrow at his words. “He didn't want to,” she eventually responds through her clenched jaw.
“Why the hell-”
“Alright!” Fiona screams, making Carl jump a little. “I'm done with this. We’re gonna fuckin’ listen to the other side of this damn story, okay?”
And honestly fuck his life at this point, because while Carl knows that he’s the reason Svetlana’s actually here in the first place, it’s only now that she’s standing in their living room that the gravity of the shit that’s about hits him: everyone is finally going to know what happened that day, something that only Svetlana, Mickey, Ian, Luke, and Carl have known about for four years.
“Are you sure, Mick?” Luke asks, nervousness etching his features.
Mickey shrugs impassively, but the fear on his face shows how nervous he is. He shuts his eyes when Ian pulls him closer. Carl holds his breath.
Svetlana exhales. “He was raped.”
The room fucking explodes. “By you?” Fiona asks slowly, her expression more confused than angry. Carl can't help but feel absurdly grateful for her calmness and the fact that she hadn't immediately jumped to conclusions, especially considering she knows that Lip is about to do the complete opposite.
“No,” Luke snaps as he unconsciously tightens his hold on Carl a little.
“This is complete shit,” Lip screams, and yep, there it is. “Is anyone buying this?”
“Neither of them wanted it,” Ian growls. “I should know. I was there.”
“How could neither of them have wanted it?” Lip growls before turning to Mickey. “I thought you’d have a better explanation than this pile of bullshit.”
“Terry,” Svetlana starts, causing the argument to simmer down a little. “He call for me, made me fuck him. Made Orange Boy watch.”
He hears Fiona gasp. “Are you serious?”
Svetlana raises an eyebrow and crosses her arms. “Why would I lie?”
Debbie looks up from her place on the floor, her jaw clenched and her complexion almost as red as her hair. “There really is a lot you guys don’t know about the Milkoviches,” she says defensively.
“Or the Agnes family,” Svet adds as she shoots a small smile at Luke, and the words cause Lip to jerk forward a bit, clearly having forgotten that Luke is even here in the first place. Carl can’t say he’s at all surprised that Lip forgot his boyfriend was here; this night isn't about him and Luke anymore, it's about Mickey. And Carl couldn’t be happier, because Ian and Mickey have needed to get at least some form of closure on this for years.
Carl glances over at Mickey, and the tear he sees running down his cheek makes his throat tighten. He then shifts his gaze over to Ian, and is a little surprised when he sees his brother looking right back at him, a questioning look in his eyes. It takes him a moment to realize that, for some reason, he’s asking if it’s alright for him to take Mickey away. Carl nods, and they both snuck back upstairs.
He turns back to see everyone else in different states of shock, still trying to digest that information. Luke clears his throat, making everyone look up. “I think it’d be best if I came back another time,” he says as he stands up. “But it was great to meet all of you. Well, most of you," he amends. It doesn't slip Carl's notice that Debbie and Fiona have to duck their heads to hide their smiles at Luke's revision.
He holds out his hand to Carl with an exhausted smile on his face that almost reaches his eyes. Carl takes it.