Part Fifty-Two: Perfumed Soap Shit

I can't shit in fucking peace. Mandy barges in while I'm taking a shit and tells me to, "go find my boyfriend." I had forgotten she knows about Ian. This is the first time we've openly talked about it, even though my base instinct is denial.

"You're the reason he left. So go find him."

"Not my problem," I say. I'm an asshole.

"I have to get to work. Make something your problem. By the way, asshole, I know about the picture. You want him back. Go fucking get him. He works at the White Swallow."

"Why can't Lip get him back?"

"Because he's an asshole like you, and his schooling is more important apparently. Go find him. If I come home from work and you haven't found him I'm kicking your ass. Ryan's not going with you either. This is something you're doing."

She takes my cigarette and leaves the door wide open. I try to shut the door without getting up to no avail. Thankfully, Ryan shuts it for me. I think about what Mandy said all day. I should go find Ian. He's close by if he works at the White Swallow.

I hop in the shower. Ian, I'm coming. Hold on. My heart flutters at the thought of seeing him again. I haven't seen him in ages. I wonder if he's changed at all. Still, it will be nice to have him in my arms again, to kiss him again, to hold his fucking hand again, and to smell his red hair. To fuck.

I can't slow the rampant stirrings inside me. I will finally be reunited with Ian. I shake like a fucking epileptic as I go through my closet and drawers for something to wear. I want to look nice for him. I decide on dark jeans, boot cut, and still new looking. I stole them from Wal-Mart ages ago.

The shirt is the hardest thing to pick out. I hold up a few of them in front of the mirror. I finally decide and get dressed. I leave the rest on the bed where Svetlana is sleeping. I find some of Kenyatta's cologne in the bathroom and spray it on myself.

"Hey," says Kev barging in to my house. "I need a gun."

"Who you gonna kill?" Let it be Frank. Maybe if he's gone Ian will feel better.

"You own a bar on the Southside how the fuck do you not have a gun?" I ask. I look up and spot Ryan. It's almost like I sensed he was there. He sniffs the air and shakes his fat face.

"Not everyone's a thug? Are you wearing cologne?"

"No, its Kenyatta's perfumed soap shit."

"You use another dude's soap?"

"So what?"

"It has pubes on it," says Kev.

"No it doesn't."

"What guy's soap doesn't have pubes on it?"

"My soap doesn't have pubes on it."

"Then you're not washing your pubes."

"Did you come all the way down here to talk about my pubes?"

"Alibi got robbed. Someone took the keg that I keep the money in."

"You keep your money in a keg?"

"I don't trust banks." Neither do I, but I'm not that fucking stupid.

"The Rub 'N' Tug money?" I ask.

"Seeing how that's the only money I'm pulling in these days yeah."

"Kev, that's my money."

We argue about who gets what percentage until my stupid wife wakes up.

"Steven Segal here let someone steal all our cash."

"Where're you going?"

"I have something important to do. Don't worry, I'll be back to protect your asses later."

"No. You can't go if it's not safe."

"It's not going to get robbed twice in one day. If it does, please shoot them in the fucking face."

I walk out of there. If I don't I'm likely to punch Kev in the face. Ryan follows me obediently.

"Important, huh?"

"Yeah, it's fucking important," I say putting on my coat and shoes.

"I'm so proud of you," says Ryan. I flip him off and head out the door. I sigh before I light up. I can't believe I have to go to fucking Boy's Town to find Ian. Why couldn't he work in a fucking bar around here?

Ian isn't at the White Swallow, but some fat faggot hit on me. I want to kick his fat fucking ass. He's what I imagine Ryan looking like in fifteen years. "You seen this kid," I ask fatty.

"Oh, you like 'em skinny. I can lose thirty pounds if you want."

"Maybe in your ass man, where's the manager?"

He points to a man leaning on the bar. I walk past fat ass and the two queers he's talking to. I can almost feel his eyes on my ass. I flip him off over my head without turning around. Quit looking at me, faggot.

"You the manager?"

"Who's asking?"

I should kick your stupid ass. He has a fucking handlebar mustache. I slam his head into the table and threaten him for information. He tells me what I need to know. I squeeze his 'stache and pat him on the head.

Ian was transferred to another club called the Fairy Tail. What is it with queers and their stupid ass names for clubs? I take a fucking cab, because I have no idea where the fucking place is. I am happy the place doesn't have a queue for me to stand in to wait. I just walk in and pay the cover fee. I'm not carded.

My heart is trying to escape my chest. I can almost feel it getting lodged in my throat. Ian is in here somewhere. I turn a corner and my heart starts careening against my rib cage. Ian is sliding up and down on another man. He's wearing gold fucking shorts, and a black top that is see through and has a fucking lei around his neck. He looks…different. He looks like he lost weight and grew out his hair.

I watch the asshole slip a pill into Ian's mouth. You ain't going to roofie him on my watch, motherfucker. I stomp over and slap the man on the arm. "Okay, lovebirds, time's up." The man doesn't budge. I grab him by his shirt. "I said get the fuck up, it's my turn."

Ian does a double take when he sees me. He's wearing eye liner. What the fuck have you done to yourself? Did I cause this? Is this because of me? I'm fucking sorry.

"Twenty-Five bucks gets you a dance. Don't want a dance gotta move on," Ian says. He's shaking. Why the fuck is he shaking? What did that asshole give him? I pull twenty-five dollars out of my pocket. Ian makes me slide it into his shorts, which are way too fucking short for him to be wearing.

"I never had to pay for your ass before," I tell him as he pushes me into a chair. Ian gives me an awkward dance. I know it's supposed to be sexy, but I feel uncomfortable. I've never been into this shit. It might be fun if we were alone, but I don't like this at all.

"How was your day going?"

"How's my fucking day going?"

"Having fun?"

"No, I'm not having fun. I spent the whole day looking for your coked out ass." He slides down my thigh. I cringe. Ian turns over. "I can't talk to you like this. These fudge packers have so much snow up your beak you're tweaking like a little bitch. Can we go outside? You can tell me where you've been all this time."

"Time's up. That was fun. We should do it again."

What the fuck? I grab his shoulder to stop him. He's still shaking like crazy. I explain everything that's been going on to him. He doesn't seem fazed by the news that Frank is dying, but Liam almost dying gets him to look at me. I missed you. Where the fuck were you?

"Let's get out of here," I tell him.

"Everything alright, Curtis?" asks a black man coming over to intervene.

"Everything's fine, Roger."

"That man over there looks like he may want a dance," Roger tells Ian. Curtis is literally the worst name ever. Nice choice, Fire Crotch.

"Don't choke on any gray pubes," I tell Ian miming sucking dick. The black man forces me to leave. "Relax, Shaft, I'm leaving."

I wait in the fucking cold for Ian to come out at the end of his shift. I've been out here what feels like ages. He finally comes out wearing a tank top and jeans, in the middle of fucking winter. There is an old man groping him. When he shoves his hand down Ian's pants I start planning his fucking murder. It's not until he licks him that I grab him.

"Why don't you molest someone your own age you jerk," I punch him in the stomach.

"You're an animal," he tells me.

"I'm not the one licking on underage boys, am I?"

"We were just having some fun."

"Shut the fuck up. Now, give Curtis some money before he calls the cops on you." He hands me fifty bucks. I bet you offered to pay him for than that, you queer fucker. I kick his ass. He runs away like a fucking sissy. "Learn how to run like a dude."

I look over and find Ian on the frozen ground passed out. People are walking around him but no one pays any attention to him. Fuck all of you. I kneel beside him. He's out cold. Whatever he took has finally caught up to him. I hoist him up on my shoulder. He's surprisingly light.

A man in an uber pulls over. Lip mentioned something to Mandy about Ian living in a crack house with Monica. He gave me the address. I leave Ian in the uber with the driver, where it's warm. The place has no electricity and its fucking dark, but I look for his shit anyway. I step on a fucking corpse. A flashlight would be terrific. I'm a fucking idiot.

A man is laying on what looks like Ian's R.O.T.C sleeping bag. I assume everything around that is his stuff. I pile it all into a bag. I should check it for fucking rats and roaches later, I just want to get the fuck out of here.

"I'll blow you for some crack," a naked man asks tugging on my pants. He smells like shit and death.

"Get the fuck off me."

I step over the corpse I stepped on earlier. It's starting to rot. If I wasn't used to this sort of thing I probably would have thrown up. Thanks, Dad. Ian is still out cold in the backseat. I slide in.

"I see this boy a lot. He's usually with old men. They don't take such good care of him."

"I've noticed," I say.

"You take care of boy," says the driver. He has a weird accent. "I trust boy with you."

"I trust boy with me too," I tell him. I consider taking Ian to the Gallagher house, but I really don't want his siblings to see him like this. So we go to my house. The driver offers to help me take Ian inside, but I don't want anyone touching him save for me and Ian's own family. No one else.

Ryan comes out to help me. I toss him Ian's bag and tell him to check for vermin. He drops the bag and offers to carry Ian. I stop and stare at him with Ian unconscious over my shoulder.

"Don't fucking touch him."

"You look like you're going to drop him."

"Don't worry about that. I've got him. Just carry that and get the fucking door."

Ryan does as instructed, but he still tries to help carry Ian. I give him a hard shove away. He gets the message. I lay Ian down gently on my bed. It's been made today, Svetlana has been doing that lately.

"He looks different," says Ryan handing me Ian's shit.

"Yeah," I say, sitting down beside my bed to stare at Ian while he sleeps. I can't believe he's here. I watch the rise and fall of his chest as he breathes. I look at the freckles on his arms and the red of his hair. I look at the black eye liner on his eyes. I look at how thin he is. I look up and catch Svetlana watching me watch Ian.

She doesn't make a comment. She just leaves. I know I should feel guilty, but I don't. She comes back in dressed for bed twenty minutes later. "I want him off the bed."

"I don't give a fuck what you want," I tell her.

"Move him off the bed now," Svetlana says.

"Fuck off," I tell her. She tries to touch him. I reach out and stop her hand before it gets close to him. "I will break your fucking hand. Don't touch."

"Then put him on the floor or the couch or outside. I don't want him on the bed."

"Fine," I tell her. I go to the linen closet that Mandy keeps stocked. I take out all the blankets and make a place on the floor for Ian. I had layers to make it soft. I steal some pillows off our bed and put them down there for him.

"Need some help?" Ryan asks.

"No. I got it," I say, as I slowly and carefully lift Ian. He twitches. I panic thinking he's going to wake up but he doesn't. It was probably a reaction to the drugs. I lay him down on his stomach and take off his shoes. I turn up the thermostat in the house so he doesn't get cold. "There, happy. He's off the bed."

"Is that him?"

"What the fuck are you talking about?"

"Is that the boy who you were with when your father caught you?"

"You got a problem with that?" I ask getting in her face.

"I have a problem with you, you piece of shit."

"I got him off the fucking bed, and if you ever call me a piece of shit again I'll kick your fucking ass out."

Svetlana walks around Ian to get to her side of the bed. She looks at him like she wants to kick him. I challenge her. She climbs into the bed. I watch Ian sleep a little more and check his vital signs before I finally get into bed.

"You can't keep him," says Svetlana.

"Fuck off," I tell her.

Yes I fucking can, and yes I fucking will.