Devil's Effect

Picture It

The sun was setting over the water when Jason looked up from the new whitewashed table and out the giant windows. He had stuff scattered over every available inch of the oval table that could seat six if necessary. He leaned back in the sage green padded chair and twisted his neck from side to side to release the tension before he picked up his phone and looked at the time. Mike would be calling soon. It was getting late, and the angle of the sun was throwing colors over the water and the clouds, turning everything into magnificent hues of pink, orange, and purple. So far, his very favorite thing about the Seattle houseboat was the incredible views, and Jason was looking forward to having Mike at his side to enjoy it all with him.

Jason tried not to worry about the fluster he'd been able to hear in Mike's voice as they chatted or Facetimed the past few days. It's just stress. The stress of moving, and practicing, and working. Once he gets here, once he's where I can take care of him, he'll be fine. He won't have to work so much and he can concentrate on his education and his music. His eyes moved over the boxes neatly labeled with Mike's initials in the blocky style he always wrote them in - the "M" with the triangle in the middle and the "S" that looked like the five on an old analog alarm clock. He'll have time to get all of his stuff organized. He'll be able to relax and sketch on that new drafting table, or paint upstairs with all the light. He'll be fine once he's here. Once we're together.

He rubbed his hands over his pale blue pajama pants and took a deep breath. Things between him and Mike were still so new, and there were moments in the past three days that he'd looked around the houseboat and wondered what they were doing. Even having lived in the same space for more than half a year, there was still so much he didn't know about Mike Shinoda, though there were things he knew on the surface. Mike came from family money but was estranged from that family. He was artistically and musically gifted. Jason was only the second person he'd ever had sex with.

Jason stopped on that thought and dropped his head. He'd only been with Chaz until I finally convinced him we'd be happier together. I watched them struggle, and I watched Chaz and Ry together. Chaz was better with Ry, and God knows he deserves to be happy after all he put up with from Mark. All of us did. But Chaz is still tortured by him, and Ry made that better. Ry's always been in love with him. I can't believe they aren't together. It makes me and Mike look like jerks.

He hadn't heard anything from Ryan since he walked out the door the night the truth came out about Mike, but he knew Ryan was living with Talinda. He knew that Ryan and Chaz weren't together because Mike had told him as much, and the thought that Mike still had contact with Chester was something Jason tried not to dwell on. It was hard to not feel a little hurt that Ryan obviously didn't want to talk to him, hadn't tried to contact him at all.

Jason lifted his chin and looked over the piles of photographs spread all over the table. Organizing them had been a way to keep his mind off Ryan and Chester, and to a lesser degree, Mike. He knew having physical prints was passe in the digital age, but he had always loved photography, and there was something about holding a photo that was so much more satisfying than swiping through his phone or camera. He didn't know how much longer he'd be sorting, but the goal was to get to the bottom of the box he'd started by bedtime. He reached into the box and pulled out another stack of prints and started sorting them into the piles - a vacation to France; flowers from the garden he'd loved at his and Mark's house in the hills; sunsets; a vacation to Canada.

The next picture was one he'd snapped of Ryan, shirtless, lounging by the pool with the other YRS boys. It wasn't obvious. If Mark had happened upon it, there were two other employees in the frame, but Jason remembered the day he'd taken that picture. Ryan had been strutting all afternoon in a pair of short swim trunks, his tattoos flashing in the sunlight. Jason had a hard time concentrating on anything but what Ryan was doing, who he was talking to, the water games the boys were playing. And that night. Mark was passed out and we made love after a dip in the hot tub together. It was always terrifying and thrilling to be together while Mark was there.