Devil's Effect

Careful What You Ask For

Mike sat on the couch, staring at the muted television as he flipped channels absently. He wasn't really doing anything but thinking. There wasn't anything he wanted to watch, and it would have been pointless anyway without sound. Chester was upstairs sleeping, and Mike wanted to be extra careful not to disturb him.

We've had a good day. I made breakfast and he ate pancakes with tons of syrup like always. It didn't seem like he was struggling, the way Ryan made it sound. Mike's eyes narrowed at the thought of Ryan and the words they'd exchanged earlier in the day. I don't need him giving his opinion. I know how he is with Ches. Does he think I can't see that I left marks last night? It's not like I did that on purpose. Ches said more and I gave him more. He wanted more.

With a heavy sigh, Mike tossed the remote onto the cushion. It looks better now. Not so red. And I didn't mean to do it. I don't know why I get like that. Just lost in the moment. Maybe we need to take a break from the collar for a while. The corners of Mike's mouth turned down in a frown as he thought about putting it away. I thought we both enjoyed using it, but Ches has been a little quieter today. Maybe it's not as fun for him anymore. We should talk about it. But I'm afraid of what he might say.

His eyes lifted to the loft for a moment, then drifted down to Ryan and Jason's bed in the corner. The blankets and pillows were neatly arranged. They hadn't come home all day, and Mike knew at least part of that was because of the small argument he and Ryan engaged in before breakfast. He's so nosy. Well, I guess that's not really his fault, with us all being crammed in here together. Ches and I really need to find our own place. This isn't going to work much longer, not with Ryan and I walking on eggshells around each other. Something has to change. Either we've got to move, or Ryan is going to have to let some of this stuff with Ches go. He's protective. But that's my job. I'm not doing anything wrong.

Mike closed his eyes and let his head drop back onto the couch as soon as those words crossed his mind. He knew leaving marks on Chester was wrong. He knew that getting upset over the advertisements his boyfriend was so proud of was wrong, too. He knew that once things between them crossed the invisible line that caused Chester to want to take it easy all day, to move slowly, to go to sleep early, that he needed to recognize that things weren't all okay. We need to talk. I don't want to mess things up between us. I know he says things are fine, but it's almost the same way he used to say things were fine at YRS. And that's a clear sign that I'm doing this wrong. It's me. And I don't need Ryan to rub that in my face. I'm not stupid.

With a huff he got up and switched off the tv, heading into the kitchen. It was hard to reconcile his frustration with Ryan and the knowledge that Ryan was also right to be concerned. It wasn't the first time Mike had left marks on Chester, though he tended to excuse the first ones as being Mark's fault. But the bottom line at this point was, he was letting himself be out of control, and the last thing he wanted to do was hurt his boyfriend. I love him. And I'm supposed to be the one taking care of him. Protecting him. Making sure he's happy and his needs are met. And I'm not doing any of those things. That's why he's in bed without me.

He got a glass of water and walked over to his keyboard. He could practice with the keyboard turned off. It was easy to imagine exactly what the music sounded like under his fingers, even without the sound. For a second he allowed himself to think back to his life before he met Chester. Everything was centered around his music and his art, his job teaching and the day in and day out survival of being young and broke in L.A. Things had changed so much when Chester came into the picture. He hardly knew who he was anymore.

Mike ended up sitting at his place at the table, looking out the window toward the ocean. It was a familiar view, one he'd contemplated many times over the course of his relationship with Chester. There were never any answers in the ocean view, just more questions than he started with. He knew tonight that he wouldn't feel better until he'd talked things out with Chester, but he couldn't bring himself to go upstairs right now. It would have to wait until morning.