Devil's Effect

Blue

Mike could feel his anxiety ticking up notch after notch as the miles brought them closer to Jason's. It didn't help that he hadn't slept well last night and had been fighting fatigue while he and Ryan traded off driving since early that morning. He glanced over at Ryan, who looked a little tense in the passenger seat. At least he slept last night. I know he did. He was out way before me. I don't know if I slept more than ten minutes at a time all night.

He shifted in the cargo van bucket seat, gripping the steering wheel a little harder and trying to hold in a sigh. I know it's not anything he's looking forward to, either. I still can't believe he came with me. I guess he really will do anything for Chester. Mike figured Ryan was as anxious as he was, maybe even more so. The other man had been talking in his sleep one of the many times Mike got up to go to the bathroom in the night, and at once point, Mike knew he heard Jason's name in all of the mumbled words. Thinking about it again sent a wave of shame over Mike. If he hadn't been so stupid, Ryan wouldn't have to see Jason again. It was clearly upsetting if he was worrying over it in his sleep. Well, if I hadn't been stupid, Ryan would be living here with Jason, and I wouldn't even be in this van.

Mike looked at the directions on his phone again. He had never been the best at navigating to places he'd only been to once. The drive through Seattle looked vaguely familiar, but the weekend he'd spent there looking at real estate with Jason was kind of a blur. They'd looked at so many places in such a short period of time it was hard for Mike to remember, but as they got closer to the docks, it started to come back to him in a rush. I don't know if I can do this. I don't want to see the house again. I don't want to go inside. Maybe Jason has put all my stuff on the front porch and we won't even have to see him. I should have asked him to do that. Why didn't I ask him to do that? Mike squirmed a little more in his seat and finally let out a long, heavy breath. He felt like he was about to vomit.

Ryan looked over from the passenger seat. He'd already changed his position a dozen times since he'd seen the docks come into view. They wouldn't be able to drive right up to the houseboat, which he knew in his head, but actually sitting in the van and looking down on the docks over the small embankment wasn't what he was expecting either. From where they were, in a medium sized parking lot, he could see a row of about a dozen houseboats, and then more down a separate stretch. Each one looked different, in size, style, and color. Ryan had no idea which one was Jason's, and that was a little unsettling.

"So we're going to have to lug your stuff up this hill?" Ryan asked, before he spotted a staircase off to the right.

"I promise, it's really not too much," Mike said apologetically. He hadn't turned the van off yet, and was staring out the windshield, wishing he could do anything to make this less painful for all of them. Fast. We need to just get my stuff and get out of here. It's not too much. Clothes and paint and pictures. That's really all I have. It can't be that much. He wiped his sweaty palms down the thighs of his jeans and took a deep breath. "We should bring the paintings out first, so we can get them arranged back there. Hopefully on the side, and then the boxes. I don't remember there being too many." Mike bit down on his bottom lip and tried again to remember how much he'd sent with Jason to Seattle, but everything had happened so fast. He had no idea how much there was, or if it would all fit. The only thing he knew he had to take home was his paintings, especially the one he'd made for Chester. He wanted to give that one back to his boyfriend.

Mike closed his eyes for a second and braced himself. "I think I'm ready. You ready?" He avoided looking at Ryan as he reached for the door handle.

Ryan was as ready as he was going to get. He opened his door and stepped out, making sure to take one last glance at himself in the side mirror. He had his leather jacket on, and he pulled it around himself as he stuck his hands in the pockets. Unlike the warm L.A. weather, Seattle had a cooler wind that had picked up, right off the water. Ryan shivered as he followed Mike down the stairs. "Which one is it?" he asked, but the moment the words were out of his mouth, his stomach sank with the reality that Mike knew, and he didn't.