Devil's Effect

**** Seattle

Jason glanced at his watch again. The boarding time for his flight back to Seattle had come and gone, and Mike still hadn't come home. He pushed himself up off the couch and shuffled into the kitchen, his shoulders drooping. Any shred of hope he'd held onto that Mike would come back to Seattle with him was gone. His boyfriend had been gone all weekend, and had lied to him on the phone each of the last two days.

More like the last week. One week. I've been gone eight days, and we're over.

He gripped the edge of the counter and shut his eyes. Jason didn't want his fledgling relationship to be over, not yet. Not when they hadn't really had a chance. Regret struck him as soon as he had that thought, though, and Ryan's blue eyes came with it. He knew he hadn't given Ryan a fair shot, either, but it was too late for that now. Just like it was too late with Mike.

He'd kept himself somewhat occupied with work, doing on his laptop what he could while he waited. The whole weekend had been waiting. Waiting for Mike to call. Waiting for Mike to come home. He'd thought about all the things he could say, things he probably would say, and knew it would come down to what happened in the moment. What Mike said, if he tried to defend himself, or if he was contrite. Jason didn't know what he would say if Mike tried to apologize. It would all be easier if he didn't.

With a sigh he opened his eyes and looked around the bare kitchen. It had become obvious that it wasn't just this weekend Mike was spending with Chester. Jason could tell that at some point in the week, Mike had been home to shower and change - even to sleep - but that was all. I don't blame him. We moved everything with me and he's got nothing here. But I really thought it would be fine for two weeks. With him working and practicing, he didn't need much. Maybe that was the first mistake. Leaving him here alone. As he'd thought things through the past twenty-four hours, it felt more and more like the bigger mistake was Mike.

Jason shook his head as he pulled the bag he'd left on the counter toward him. After his solo dinner out, he'd gone and bought a bottle of red wine he knew Mike liked, and two cheap wine glasses. It was late enough he was inclined to open it now, and if Mike never came back, Jason wouldn't care by the bottom of the bottle. I could just leave, instead of waiting for him. He wouldn't have to know I was here. I could go back to Seattle, call him tomorrow and tell him not to come. I wouldn't even have to tell him why, or look at him. Just tell him to find somewhere else to go, to get out of this loft. This cursed loft. It's been nothing but a reminder of things I thought I'd have since I've had it. Since Mark took it away from me and gave it to Chaz.

The ball of resentment that had been building all weekend grew tighter, heavier, as Jason stubbornly opened the wine. He decided he didn't want to lose the opportunity to see Mike's face when he told him to get out. After everything that had happened, Jason wanted to watch as he took away everything Mike was counting on having once he'd committed to Jason. In his head he scoffed at the thought of commitment. It was clear Mike had never committed to the idea of them being together, not when he was holed up in a swanky hotel somewhere with Chester, making love and repairing their relationship. Jason wanted Mike to hurt a little. He wanted to tell Mike Shinoda that he'd made a mistake, choosing Chaz over him. Everything they could have been would never happen, because Jason wasn't going to sit around and be played for a second time. I learned that lesson well, hon. I'm not going to be the kind of man who lets anyone walk all over me. I'm not going to live that life again, trapped with someone who doesn't value me. Fuck Mike if he's changed his mind. We could have been perfect.

Jason took the bottle to the table and set it down in front of the chair that faced into the apartment, his back to the windows. He'd opened them earlier to listen to the ocean, to lose himself in daydreams of what it would have been like to come here with Mark to hold on to that spark they had when they were first married. He'd imagined what it would have been like for this loft to be his secret hideaway with Ryan once their affair started. His thoughts had turned from opportunities lost to thoughts of Ryan, sweaty and panting his name in adoration, locked away in far rooms at the YRS house Jason was a prisoner in, and for a while in the afternoon, Jason had wanted to call Ryan and ask him to come over. It would have been sex for the sake of nostalgia, and something Jason didn't think he could do after he'd broken Ryan's heart. For Mike. I broke his heart for Mike, and so Ry could be with Chaz, and look at us. Chaz never wanted him, and Mike never wanted me. It's all been one lie after another. All fucked up and twisted because of this place.