Devil's Effect

Jealousy, An Old Friend

Jason sat back in the tall chair at the high table he was sharing with Mike at Mel's and watched his boyfriend as he finished the last of his onion rings. It wasn't the kind of place he would have chosen for their last night together in L.A. There was nothing quiet and intimate about the bar they were sitting in, and there wasn't a wine list or an extensive list of delicate appetizers to go with them. But Mike seemed to be fine, having put away a huge bar pretzel with melted beer cheese dipping sauce, a bacon cheddar burger, and onion rings like he'd been starving for weeks. Jason couldn't help but smile over his glass of iced tea. He was sure if they were at home Mike would be licking his fingers.

"What?" Mike asked when he looked up, catching Jason's eye as he pushed his plate away a little.

"You," Jason said with amusement. "If people were watching us they would think I was starving you at home."

Mike looked down at his plate. There wasn't a crumb left on it, and he felt his cheeks flush a little. "I was hungry," he whined a little, giving Jason his best puppy dog eyes. "Lunch was a long time ago." He picked up his Sprite and took a long drink. It seemed like it had been forever since he'd had one. "You know what they have here that's really good?" he asked, his eyes lighting up with excitement.

"It all seems pretty good," Jason answered. "But what? You can have anything you want, sweetheart." He reached over and laced his fingers through Mike's on the table top, smiling at him indulgently.

"They have this brownie they make in a cast-iron skillet, and it comes out all hot from the oven, with vanilla ice cream and fudge and caramel sauce, and it's sooooo good." Mike squeezed Jason's hand. "In other words, I think we should have dessert."

Jason laughed. "I don't think I can eat another bite. But if you want this skillet brownie, you can have one." He looked around to see if he could spy their waitress, but she wasn't anywhere to be seen. "As soon as the waitress gets back, it's all yours."

Mike smiled in excitement. "You can have a taste," he offered generously before he leaned closer to Jason. "I know this wasn't what you had in mind tonight, but I was craving a burger. We can always open a bottle of wine when we get home for our last night." Even though the bar was a favorite of his, Jason had seemed a little out of his element the whole time they had been there. It's just loud. I'm sure he wanted to talk, and it's hard to talk in here. "We can talk when we get home, on the couch, right?"

"Of course," Jason assured him. "It's going to be so hard to go tomorrow and leave you here. I want every second I can get tonight. I might not let you go to sleep." He raised one eyebrow at Mike and laughed.

"I can sleep when you're gone," Mike responded, catching sight of their waitress. "Look, here she comes."

On the other side of the restaurant, Chester followed the hostess, his pace slow as he moved with his set of black crutches, the tops tucked under his armpits. Petey Sly was right behind him as they weaved around the tables until they finally stopped at one by the windows, the shades pulled.

"Will this work for you?" the hostess asked, motioning the menus in her hands toward the taller stone table.

"It's fine, thank you," Chester was first to say as he scooted himself around to stand beside one of the two chairs. He watched as Petey thanked her as well, and after she'd sat their menus down and told them their waitress would be around in a minute to see what they'd like to drink, she left them.

"This is a nice place," Petey commented as he looked around the sports bar/grill combo. There were televisions mounted in the corners, all of them with baseball or basketball games playing, but the sound was turned off. He pulled his lightweight jacket off, and slung it over the back of his chair before patting down the front of his deep blue dress shirt. He was ready to sit down, ready to get situated and enjoy his first date with Chester, but he stopped the moment he noticed the other man struggling. "Oh, Chaz, let me help."