Devil's Effect

Breakdown

Chester sat on the downstairs bed, his legs hanging off the side. He stared at the floor, or what he could see of the floor, around the clutter that lived everywhere in the loft. After a hard night with Mike, the romantic evening that had turned into one awkward disappointment, he wasn't sure what to do. He had woken up first, and had snuck around the room, trying to be quiet as he pulled his ripped jeans back on and headed downstairs. He'd started coffee, and then sat at the table, watching as all three of his roommates started to get up. When Mike appeared, barely anything was said between the two of them, aside from normal morning greetings and generic talk of running late and seeing each other later.

I don't know what happened. Why didn't he want me? Chester dropped his head, his hand going into his curly blonde hair. He pulled at it, and the thought to cut it suddenly hit. It was starting to get shaggy and annoying, and that meant it was time for a change.

He slid from the bed, and headed for the bathroom.

Ryan was in the kitchen, pouring another glass of orange juice. "We have that conference call with Forrest in an hour," he called, reminding Chester of their one and only work obligation for the day. He watched as Chester raised his hand, but didn't say anything - a silent signal that he knew.

Ryan let out a long breath before he tossed the empty orange juice container in the trash. Jason and Mike had already left, and he and Chester were finally alone. They had things to talk about, and as Ryan checked the time, he was growing anxious. He was beyond curious to hear how Chester's night had gone, even though he could tell just by the other man's appearance and downtrodden mood that things probably didn't go well.

He sipped his juice as he crossed the loft, and sat down on the edge of the bed, right where Chester had been sitting a few moments ago. My night was a doozy. Maybe I'm being paranoid. It was a new thought, that what he'd seen and heard last night from Jason was wrong, and just something he'd made up in his mind. He cupped his hand over his mouth, just as he heard a buzzing sound coming from the bathroom. He straightened up, his head cocked as he listened. It only took a few seconds for him to recognize the sound of the electric shavers.

"Chaz?" he called, as he sat his juice on the end table and headed toward the bathroom. "Chazzy?" He got to the door, the sound distinct now, and Ryan grabbed for the handle to open the door, but it was locked. "Shit! Chester!" he yelled, pounding on the door. "Chester! What are you doing?!"

Ryan could hear his heart drumming in his ears as he shut his eyes and leaned closer to the door, his hand still on the knob. "Chaz!" he called one last time. "Chaz, let me in!"

He waited, his mind scrambling through what he knew was going on behind the locked door. He was shut out, not only from the bathroom, but Chester had locked him out of whatever meltdown was happening. Fuck. Fuck! Ryan leaned against the door, listening as the shavers went, as images of Chester's blonde curls dropping into the sink flipped across his mind.

It was minutes before Ryan finally heard silence fill the space, and the lock on the door released. It opened slowly, and the first thing Ryan saw was Chester's sad face and red eyes. "Chaz," he whispered, before he took in the full scope. The sides of Chester's head were shaved down almost to the skin, but he'd left a thin strip of blonde curls, a tiny mohawk. "Why?" Ryan asked as he reached to touch it, and Chester let him. Ryan's hand started on his head, but soon he was pulling him into a hug.

"I don't know," Chester cried into Ryan's dark t-shirt. "He didn't want me, Ry. Last night, he didn't want me. He always loved my mohawk."

Ryan's heart cracked. "No, Chaz," he whispered, his arms wrapping Chester up a little tighter. "Don't ever do that for someone else. If he doesn't want you for you, then nothing will ever change that. Not even your hair." He felt something sick sink into his stomach as he pictured Mike's face, and his mouth that never stopped. The mouth that had obviously hurt Chester last night.