It's 3am when Trevor shows up at Michael's trailer.
He'd purchased the place four months after meeting Amanda, stars in his eyes and a fire in his heart. It made Trevor sick, everything about it. The windows were too clean, the steps too perfect, the white picket fence too cliché. It was the epitome of what Michael claimed to hate; it was the great scam of the American dream.
Michael had told him it was all bullshit, going on a coke fueled rant one night about how his parents drank too much and cared only about putting on a perfect front. He'd sworn off the whole farce, sworn he'd never repeat their mistakes.
Liar.
Presently, he laid in his perfect bed, the sheets smelling of detergent and Amanda's cheap perfume. His arm was slung around her swollen belly, protecting the nightmare he'd created within her. The ring on his left hand glinted in the headlights of a passing car.
Scratching at an already picked wound on his arm, Trevor bit the inside of his cheek until he tasted metal. He could burn it down, turn it all to ash until the faux perfection of it all was floating away in the cold winter air. He could, no one could stop him.
He couldn't.
No matter what he did, he knew that he'd lost Michael. He'd lost him to some fake slut with big fake tits, and there was nothing he could do about it.
He'd never had Michael in the first place.
"You fucking sell out," Trevor whispered.
Michael didn't wake.
"You. Fucking. Sell out," Trevor repeated, grinding out each word through clenched teeth.
Michael shifted, but didn't wake.
Trevor took a deep breath, felt the meth drip from his brain to his toes, felt it bury his every rational thought until all that remained was the betrayal, the ever present fear that he was losing- that he had lost- the one person he'd ever dared to love.
"How could you?" He roared, tearing the blanket from their sleeping forms.
It was soft, impossibly soft, a stark contrast to the stabbing pain Trevor felt in his chest.
Michael was shouting something then, jumping up pathetically in nothing but his boxers. Amanda was screaming as well, adding to the hazy chorus of indignant rage.
Trevor's fingers curled into fists, and he turned his attention towards Amanda. She was the cause of this, she was only using Michael for his money, she didn't deserve him, she didn't deserve any of it, she didn't even know the real Michael, she only knew the lies he fed her, she didn't deserve him, she didn't-
Trevor took a single step towards Amanda, unbidden tears stinging the back of his eyes. Michael stepped in front of him, shoving him into the wall behind him hard enough to dent the plaster. It was then that everything came back into focus, as if Michael's violent touch brought him back to reality, the roar of the noise becoming clear.
"Don't you fucking touch her!" Michael shouted, shoving Trevor back into the same spot.
Trevor's hip caught the edge of their second hand dresser, a bruise blooming on his tired skin.
"You hear me? What the fuck is wrong with you?" Michael's voice was thunder, cracking against Trevor's ears until they rang. "Get out, get the fuck out!"
Amanda whimpered, clutching at her belly. Trevor locked eyes with her, and Michael grabbed his arm. He dragged him out, past the half built crib littering the living room floor, past the freshly signed marriage license, past the blurry ultrasound photo carefully hung on the fridge, and out into the frigid night.
Trevor was thrown down the steps, stumbling into the snow. Just as he was about to lose his footing, Michael's hands were on him again, gripping both his shoulders to slam him against the frosted metal of the trailer.
"You pull this shit on my wedding night?"
Michael was still shouting, hot minty breath coming in violent white puffs against Trevor's face. Trevor tried to focus on what he was saying, tried to choke out an answer, but could only stare as flakes of snow dusted Michael's short hair. The bruise on his hip throbbed in the cold as Michael shook him.
"Trevor!" He roared.
Between the cold and Michael's grip, Trevor was finally able to focus. "You lied," he said.
Michael's fingers softened minutely. "What?" His eyes flashed as the fire of his rage was dampened by confusion.
"You-" Trevor clenched his jaw, squeezed his eyes shut. "You said you'd never be the type to have this shitty life. You said you weren't cut out for a wife and kids."
Michael's face transitioned from anger into something softer, a look Trevor had only ever seen directed at him. It wasn't pity, but it wasn't condemnation. It wasn't love, but it wasn't hate. It wasn't confusion, but it wasn't understanding.
It was regret.
"That's what this is about?" The anger in Michael's voice melted as fast as the flakes upon his flushed cheeks, replaced with disbelief. "Her?"
"Not her," Trevor spat, the word stinging like poison upon his chapped lips. "You."
"Me?"
"You."
Michael pressed his lips into a thin line and shut his eyes with a slow tilt of his head. "The fuck is that supposed to mean?" His eyes opened.
Trevor's fingers stung from the cold. "You take scores, man, you fuck over the system and everyone involved in it. You're not this fake fucking act you put on trying to pretend you're somebody good." He paused, meeting Michael's defeated eyes. "You're my best friend."
"Yeah, well best friends don't break into each other's houses and threaten them in their fucking beds." The anger began to seep back into Michael's gaze. "The fuck, T?"
Trevor wanted to get angry again, wanted to match Michael's rise to rage, but couldn't. Instead, he slumped against the wall of the trailer, Michael's fingers the only thing keeping him upright. It was like he was a child again, his father slamming him around until he was nothing but an empty husk. "Why does everyone abandon me?" His voice was hollow, his quiet words swept away in the swirling snow.
"T, I told you... I'm not gonna stop taking scores. We talked about this."
Suddenly, something snapped in Trevor, his hands coming up to clutch either side of Michael's face. "Don't you get it?" He said, words like knives as his fingertips curled around the back of Michael's cold ears. "It's not about the money." Unbidden tears welled in Trevor's eyes, resting fat and heavy on his lower lashes.
"It never was." Desperately, he careened forward, crushing his lips against Michael's.
Michael kissed back.
He sucked in a sharp breath and stepped into Trevor's space, pressed his barely clothed body into his, smashed their teeth together and bruised their mouths until they both ran out of air, until their lungs burned to match their hearts.
When Michael pulled back with a gasp, tears were rolling down Trevor's cheeks, his entire body trembling with years of unsated need.
"I-" Michael shook his head, stepping back from Trevor like he was diseased. "No. Just get out of here, alright? Stay the fuck away from my family."
And just like that, Michael was gone, frozen feet carrying him up the icy steps into the home he'd built upon lies.
Trevor dabbed a shaking finger upon his bloodied lips, and, alone again, walked numb into the night.