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Trevor and I got history, complicated fucking history.
Franklin didn't understand the statement at first. Obviously he didn't because he didn't know anything about Trevor and only a glimpse of Michael. He knew fucking nothing about their past but over the months he worked together with the other men and befriended them, he understood the statement better and better. The pain in Trevor's voice every time he spoke about Michael Townley and their shared past was unmistakably that something had happened. Something heavier than simple betrayal.
Franklin wasn't sure yet what the real deal was between the two older men, but he had an assumption. He wasn't stupid, he saw their constant fighting like his parents used to do when he was still a kid and Trevor's looks.
The looks Trevor gave Michael every time Michael lost his temper, got aggressive or violent. The look of complete devotion every time Michael held a gun in his hand, face blank, eyes hard and voice demanding. It seemed like Trevor would fall on his knees right then and there to worship Michael.
It was…, well disturbing? Franklin didn't know a better word for it. Michael was ruthless and had no regard for human life, he was cold towards others and had problems pinpointing his emotions right. Franklin liked Michael a lot regardless, but he also knew that Michael had flaws.
Michael had told him once, after too many beers, that his psychologist diagnosed him as a borderline sociopath. He seemed deeply offended by it, a deep frown on his face and lips pressed together. It nearly seemed like Michael was sulking over it. But for Franklin's understanding it was not that far fetched even when he would never tell Michael that.
Michael's emotions were semi-stable at best and setting him off was way easier than Franklin had expected. Not as easy as setting off the bomb Trevor Philips was but still… too easy. Franklin had seen how good Michael was in shooting, in killing, no emotion clouding his eagle eye.
Franklin didn't like the feeling of a gun in his hand and being the most wanted person in LS. He didn't like this kind of life, the gangster and gangbanger shit, he didn't like it. He wanted out and built a better life for himself, just like Michael had done it.
Meanwhile Michael loved a life with a gun in his hand and a price on his head and hated himself for it.
And Trevor…, well Trevor loved guns, loved being chased, just like Michael but he was clear about that with himself.
Michael and Trevor were so alike it was kind of creepy sometimes. Franklin had observed them for months now and he was probably the person who knew them and their relationship the best and slowly he understood the comment Michael's wife had let slip once. The other person besides him who knew Michael's relationship with Trevor the best.
It was half a year after the big one when Michael invited Trevor and Franklin over to his house for dinner. Franklin didn't want to refuse the invitation even when he wasn't really in the mood for dining together with three people who had different stages of hatred for eachother but well Michael was one of his closest friends by now and he seemed eager about the dinner so Franklin agreed to come.
It wasn't as big a disaster than he feared it would be. Trevor turned down his bickering with Michael to zero and only gave Michael's wife here and there a toxic glance or comment. It was almost peaceful until…
“I’ll help you”, Franklin hurried to say and followed Amanda De Santa in the kitchen, his hands full of dirty dishes.
Michael and Trevor sat on the couch in the living room. Trevor refilled Michael's glass with more pure alcohol while taking a swing out of the bottle himself. Michael’s cheeks were already getting rosier and rosier during the meal, a good indicator he was getting tipsy and now, with Trevor sitting next to him pouring one glass after another he was heading from tipsy to drunk.
Trevor sat beside him, a wobbly smile on his face while leaning more and more in Michael's personal space.
When Franklin came out of the kitchen again to gather another load of dirty dishes, Trevor had sneaked an arm around Michael's neck and was leaning on his left side. Michael had turned his head around looking at Trevor with eyes that were practically gleaming, no wrinkles of worry and stress were on his face.
After another trip to the kitchen, helping Amanda finish the cleaning of the dishes, Michael's head was laying on Trevor's shoulder, hair messy and body lax. He was snoring quietly and peacefully. Trevor had pushed his nose in Michael's hair, eyes closed while pressing the body of the other man close to his. He seemed to be asleep as well.
It looked so intimate that Franklin had to look away. To natural, to familiar.
“I’m not even fucking surprised”, Amanda said, coming out of the kitchen and stepping beside Franklin. She had a twisted expression on her face while looking at her husband and his best friend, “It was always like that.”
“What was always like that?”, Franklin couldn't help but ask. Even when he wanted nothing to do with Michael's and Trevor's toxic relationship, it was still interesting to know more. Especially from someone who was not one of them.
“This”, Amanda gestured to the two men, “Like they're fucking in love with eachother.”
In love.
Franklin had considered that as well, like everyone else who had ever met Michael and Trevor together but hadn't dwelled on the thought for too long. Now hearing it out loud made it a true possibility.
It oddly made sense.
-
A few weeks after Franklin's strange dinner experience he got invited to Michael's birthday or more, Trevor pushed Michael to invite Franklin and Lester to celebrate his birthday. Michael had been weirdly closed about his birthday, hadn't even spoken once about it even when his party was only a few days away.
Strange for a man who was so self-centered and loved attention.
Franklin had asked Trevor about it and Trevor had only wiped it away with, Mikey didn't have a good childhood.
They didn't speak further about the topic afterwards.
When Franklin arrived at the Vanilla Unicorn, Trevor and Michael were already there. Obviously. They sat in the furthest corner, Michael had a bottle of beer in one hand and resting his head on the other. Trevor sat beside him, in front of him were white lines and a bottle of something clearly high percentage.
When Trevor saw Franklin stepping through the door, his entire body jerked up, he waved enthusiastically and climbed over the table, nearly falling on the floor on the other side. His movements were already more sluggish than usual.
“Fraaaaaaaankliiiiin”, Trevor said, smiling brightly from one eye to the other, “You're fuuuucking late my young friend”, he threw an arm around Franklin's shoulders and pulled him towards with a jerk, “Soooooo fucking late. Mikey and I already smashed a few bottles and maaaabyeeee a little tiny bit of coke. I hope that's alrighty with you. But don't worry”, Trevor gestured back to the table, “we left plenty for you of course.”
Trevor spoke even faster than usual and he smelled faintly of booze and weed. They had definitely started early today.
Before Franklin could open his mouth to say something in return, Trevor continued his babbling, now uncomfortably close to Franklin's ear, “Mikey is a bit in a…, well, mood, because he always gets all whiny and sad on his birthdays, every fucking year”, he sighed, “so go fucking easy on him.” Trevor drew back and started to guide Franklin to the table but then he stopped and his hot wet breath was back on Franklin's ear, way too close, “Oh and he's already pretty fucked, he started the drinking early.”
Franklin just nodded, he had seen Michael drunk and also very drunk before. He mostly got more aggressive or incredibly melancholic depending on what mood he had been in before he started drinking, so Franklin already knew a drunk Michael.
Trevor pushed Franklin forward the table. Michael had turned his head towards them, eyes already heavily lidded and cheeks red under the colorful lightning. His eyes didn't have the sharp glance they usually had, instead they seemed clouded and far away.
Michael appeared lost and he looked so fucking sad. Nobody should look like that on their birthday.
But when he saw Franklin he smiled, it was wobbly and tiny but a smile nevertheless.
Franklin tried to push down the pity he felt for the older man. Michael didn't need pity and sure as fuck didn't want it.
“Franklin”, Michael said, his speaking was already slurred, “glad you made it to my fucking birthday.”
“Sure, man”, Franklin said, a smile stretched over his face, “It's your birthday after all.”
“Yeah”, Michael said, suddenly sounding bitterly, “it’s my fucking birthday. It's -”
“Mikey”, Trevor immediately cut in, sliding beside Michael again, one arm got thrown over Michael's shoulders, leaning way too close in Michael's personal space to use the word best friends, “it's your birthday. We'll fucking celebrate your sad ass here. We're gonna have some fun.”
Michael hummed, lifting the beer up to his lips and gulped the remaining liquor down in a few gulps.
Shortly after Franklin Lester turned up and they really started drinking, sniffing coke (or more Trevor sniffed the most and now and then laid a line for Michael), eating sickeningly sweet chocolate cake and getting too many strippers on their table. The girls drank and ate with them, laughing and touching them. Franklin quickly lost the uncomfortable sting of pity he had felt for Michael before and let his senses dulled from alcohol and a joint. He didn't do the hard stuff, too many bad memories were attached to it.
Through the evening Franklin had drunk himself to the edge from tipsy to drunk. One girl was sitting on his lap, smiling down at him, arms loosely wrapped around his neck. She talked about something but Franklin didn't pay attention. Another girl leaned on his side, legs thrown over Lester's legs, listening to him talking about computer stuff.
Franklin's attention wandered from the girl in his lap to Lester and then to Michael and Trevor. Trevor had lost his shirt through the evening and only wore his ripped jeans while his Aviator Glasses had sneaked their way on his nose, he looked ridiculous wearing sunglasses in a dimly lit club. Michael wasn't really there anymore and he seemed on the edge of falling asleep or passing out. He had stripped his suit jacket off, only wearing a white shirt and loose tie.
Trevor had his head crooked, looking at Michael. They were way too close again, Michael's head dropped forward, forehead leaning against Trevor's. They were nearly breathing each other's air by now. Way too intimate for best friends. One of Trevor's hands lingered over Michael's neck, playing with his black hair. Michael's eyes were slowly closing on their own accord, mouth slightly open.
Suddenly the stripper in Franklin's lap slipped off his lap, talking about getting new stuff to drink. Pulling his attention shortly away from his older friends, looking at her how she stood up and walked away with swinging hips. Shortly he got caught up looking behind the woman and when his eyes snapped back to Michael and Trevor. He didn't even know why he was looking at them, he had no right watching them even when they were in a public space. If Franklin had been sober he wouldn't have watched them, he would've turned his gaze away. Especially when he saw how Michael's body went lax and melted in Trevor's hands which were cupping his cheeks now. They looked wet.
Franklin’s heart dropped as realization washed over him, Michael was crying, his cheeks reflecting wetness in the light as he ran the back of his hand over his snotty nose. Trevor smiled at him, a soft and tender smile. Franklin had never seen such an expression on Trevor's face before, he didn't even know Trevor was capable of such an expression. His thumbs were stroking Michael's cheek and then… then Trevor leaned forward and kissed Michael. Directly on the mouth and Michael honest to god sobbed, while his hands were coming up and tangled Trevor's light hair, pressing him closer.
Like they're fucking in love with eachother.
“Jesus”, Lester groaned besides Franklin, “nothing has changed really.”
Franklin ripped his gaze away from the two older men, looking at Lester, “What?”
“Them”, Lester said annoyed, “Back when they fucked each other it wasn't that melodramatic but -”
“What!?”, Franklin cut Lester off, “They fucked eachother?”
Lester gave him a hard gaze, raising his right eyebrow, “Are you surprised?”
Was he surprised? If Franklin was honest with himself, no he wasn't.
“No.”
Lester sighed, “They fucked with eachother until North Yankton. It made things easier and more complicated at once, very annoying.”
Franklin glanced back to Michael and Trevor, Michael had passed out, sitting half in Trevor's lab and head on Trevor's shoulder, drool was slowly soaking the shirt. Trevor had leaned back against the backrest, eyes closed, while one hand rested on Michael's back.
“I guess they're fucking again”, Lester said and shrugged, “We’ll see if this will make our working life more complicated or not.”
They fucked with eachother until North Yankton.
“Yeah”, Franklin said, ripping his gaze away, “Yeah, we’ll see.”
-
Michael didn't seem to remember his birthday at all. He didn't remember drinking so much alcohol that it had been replacing his blood stream for the evening nor sniffing lines of coke with Trevor and especially he didn't remember kissing his best friend.
Everything went on as usual, Michael and Trevor annoying each other and complaining about the other one. But one thing changed. Michael's drinking habits.
Michael had told Franklin once he wanted to do the right thing. Stop being a selfish prick and looking out for his family and friends. Michael had started to do some dating stuff with his wife, doing trips with his kids or even the whole family and hanging out with Franklin, Trevor and occasionally Lester. It had worked well for a few months but since Michael's birthday everything started to crumble again.
Trevor had once said to Franklin in a haze of coke that Michael lied to himself, always had lied to himself. At first Franklin couldn't put a finger on the meaning behind the words but slowly he understood. Michael desperately tried to build up the perfect family or rather his picture of a perfect family in his mind. According to Trevor he had already tried it once, twenty years ago.
Michael built that life up again he wanted, needed and still Michael didn't seem happier, no he seemed more depressed than Franklin had ever seen him.
Michael drank more and more every day since his birthday and called Franklin more often, asking for hanging out together. It felt like Michael's life was crumbling down again, even when he had everything he wanted. A perfect American family and more money than he could ever spend and still Michael looked more miserable from day to day, it felt like a black hole was sucking him in.
Michael had asked Franklin to hang out together with him and Trevor, only the three of them. Franklin had agreed mostly because he didn't have anything better to do but also because he liked the two men. In a very twisted way but he liked them, even considered them as family.
They met at Michael's home, which was really rare. Normally they would met everywhere except Michael's home but okay, Franklin rolled with it.
The door was ajar when Franklin drove his car in the yard, Trevor's truck already parking next to Michael's car. When Franklin pushed the door open and slipped in the house, his gun felt heavily in his waistband. He didn't expect any danger but he couldn't be careful enough. Michael and Trevor attracted violence and cruelty magically so yeah, Franklin never knew.
He walked quietly through the hall and froze in his step when he heard voices.
“You're fucking pathetic, you know that. Lying like a coward and drinking reality away. Just like you did twenty fucking years ago.” It was Trevor, Franklin recognized, he sounded angry, “You know Michael, I really thought you would finalfuckingly be honest with yourself. Just once in your shitty life.”
Franklin shuffled forward the voices until he saw Trevor's back facing him. He stood in front of Michael, hands pressed against the edge of the kitchenette and caging Michael who leaned against the kitchen counter, he had a glass with an amber liquid clutched in his hands.
“I don't fucking lie to myself”, Michael hissed, “I’m just trying to bring my fucking life in line again, do things right this time.”
Trevor huffed and said sarcastically, “Oh really Michael, I can't really see you doing a good fucking job with it.”
“I’m doing my fucking best”, Michael said, voice louder now, “I know it's not how you fucking like it, but it's not about fucking you, it's -”
“It’s about fucking you”, Trevor spit, suddenly stepping away from Michael. Franklin jerked back and pressed himself against the wall at the entrance to the garage, trying to minimize his breathing to zero when he heard how Trevor started to pace around in the kitchen. He definitely shouldn't be here. He should've been gone the moment he saw Trevor and Michael in such a position.
“I -”, Michael sounded unsure suddenly, Franklin heard how a glass was placed on the counter, “I - No, Trev”, Franklin heard footsteps on the tiles, “I wasn't lying when I said I want you to be happy.”
“Yeah well and I wasn't shitting you when I said it was never about the money”, Trevor bit back.
Silence. Nothing was audible for a few seconds except the breathing of the two older men.
It was never about the money?
Oh.
Oh.
“I know”, Michael cut through the silence, his voice cracked around the edges, “I fucking know.”
“Then stop that”, Trevor said, “Stop this fucking pretending and be fucking honest with yourself once in your stupid shitty life.”
They were silent again a few seconds then Michael said quietly, “I don't lie to myself.” It was desperately spoken like Michael wanted to convince himself and not Trevor.
“Oh really?”, Trevor spit, “Not lying to yourself of being a fucking faggot. Not fucking lying to yourself of being just like fucking me.”
Franklin's heart dropped.
“I’m not -”
“Shut the fuck up”, Trevor hissed, “You're always so high and fucking mighty, pretending like you're something better, only fucking me drunk and high, only using my affection when you're a pathetic mess nobody else would like to touch except me. I -”
“Trevor”, Michael abruptly cutting in, “Trevor, don't -”
“I love you.”
The words felt like a gunshot and suddenly everyfuckingthing about Michael and Trevor made sense.
“I fucking love you”, Trevor said, “I always fucking did and you can't even admit to yourself that the only person in the world who loves you the way you are is fucking me. Instead you abandoned me, you - fuck…”, he inhaled deeply, footsteps coming to a stop.
Silence again. Heavy, uncomfortable silence.
Franklin lowered his eyelids. Shit.
“I know”, Michael said quietly, “Fuck, I know.”
“You fucking left me, Mikey. You fucking abandoned me even when you knew”, Trevor said, he sounded defeated.
And suddenly Franklin understood.
Trevor and I got history, complicated fucking history.
Michael had broken Trevor's heart.
"I'm sorry", Michael said, words nearly silent, only a whisper in the air, "I'm sorry, Trevor."
Franklin could hear how Trevor inhaled heavily, not moving, "Are you really?", Trevor's voice sounded bitter, "Because you're always saying I'm sorry but as far as I can tell you only say it to save your sorry fat ass, to put guilt from your shoulders, to -"
Hurried footsteps and Trevor was cut off, then Franklin heard stumbling and the high sound of glass clicking together.
Franklin's heart leaped into his throat, did they fight? He carefully leaned to the side and glanced around the corner, if they fought he had to step in. He was not interested in witnessing a beating between them, if they -
Oh.
Franklin immediately drew back, pressing himself to the wall again, cheeks warming up. Trevor was sitting on the kitchenette, hand buried in Michael's hair and was kissing him, open mouthed and with a lot of tounge and spit involved. Michael stood between Trevor's legs, hand clinging to his back, dirty white shirt twisted in his fists. Their eyes were closed and their bodies melted together.
Franklin would never get the picture out of his head again.
"I love you", Trevor said, voice muffled and hurried, "I love you. I love you. I love you. I always fucking did."
Trevor sobbed and Franklin's stomach twisted. He should fuck off.
"Fuck", Michael said, his voice was cracking around the edges, "Fuck I'm sorry. I'm so fucking sorry, Trev. I'm sorry. I'm sorry."
Michael sounded on the verge of tears, "I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm -"
"Fuck me Mikey", Trevor cut in, "Please fuck me", he sounded so desperate and needy Franklin got uncomfortable goosebumps, he should definitely fuck off. Now.
"Yeah", Michael said, voice wobbling, "Yeah, fuck."
"Always want to fuck you", Trevor said and pulled up his nose, "Even when you left me for years, always thought about kissing and fucking you. Only you, M, only you, only you, only -"
The last thing Franklin heard when he left the house was the clicking of metal and how zippers were pulled down.
...
He definitely had to tell Lester that his guess had been right.