Devil's Drop

Dinner For None

Chester opened the oven, his trained eye inspecting the top layer of his homemade lasagna. The cheese wasn't bubbling or browning yet, which meant there was still time. He shut the door and stood up straight, stretching his neck with a sigh before he glanced at the clock on the wall. 6:30. It's 6:30 on a Sunday night. Normally we'd just be getting home from YRS right about now. But no. Not this weekend. . .the extra time at home has been nice though. I don't know why I keep letting this bother me.

Refusing to think about it anymore, he turned around, and looked out over the loft. The television was on, the news playing quietly, so quietly that Chester couldn't hear it. Mike was planted on the couch, in the exact same spot he'd been for almost the last hour. Every time Chester crossed the room and laid a hand on his lover's shoulder, or sat down for a moment next to him, Mike was on his phone. He'd put it down the moment Chester was near, lending his attention to conversation and eye contact, but the moment Chester walked away, he could tell Mike was back to doing whatever had captured him so completely. Would it be nosy if I ask him what he's doing? Probably. He's never been a big phone person...

Chester's eyes dropped to the rose gold bracelet around his wrist, the dainty chain covering up most of the bruise that had been left there two days ago by the handcuffs. Oh. Maybe he's looking for a present for me. That's probably it. He's so silly. He looked up again, this time with a smile on his face. "We got about twenty-five minutes," he said, raising his voice so Mike would be sure to hear him. He still had to get the salad together and get the garlic bread in the oven.

"Can't wait," Mike called back quickly, glancing up from his phone to look at his boyfriend. He bit down on his bottom lip and watched Chester move around with complete confidence in the kitchen. A feeling of self-hatred washed over him for a moment as he clutched his phone. Chester was working away in the kitchen, with no clue of Mike's indiscretions, which seemed to be adding up. It wasn't just the forced blow job that he secretly loved. Now he couldn't seem to get Jason out of his head, and instead of diligently focusing on Chester, he'd been on and off searching up pictures from Jason's porn days and toying with the idea of watching videos of Jaxon Deep. Since he'd come close to clicking links yesterday in bed, he'd stopped himself two more times, with promises that he didn't need to see them.

"Do you need any help?" Mike asked guiltily. He knew he needed to put the phone away for the rest of the night. Any desire he felt toward Jason was wrong, and focusing his thoughts and energy on Chester was what he should do. No, not what I should do. It's what I want to do. He tossed his phone on the couch and stood up, stretching his arms over his head before taking a step toward the kitchen.

Chester was just getting the lettuce out of the refrigerator to wash it and get it chopped up. "No, I'm good, Sexy Boy," he said as he tossed Mike a kiss through the air. "Unless you want to chop up the tomato." He watched as Mike nodded, and Chester was about to go back to the refrigerator, when there was a knock on the door. "You want to get that first?" he asked, figuring it was probably someone at the wrong apartment. No one ever showed up at the loft on Sunday nights, since normally they would just be getting home from work.

Mike changed direction, turning toward the front door with a frown. "Okay." He didn't know who it could be, this time on a Sunday. Nobody had called them, and it had been a while since he'd seen Anna, or even Dave. I should call my friends some time. Texting isn't the same as hanging out.He opened the front door, surprised to see Ryan on the other side. It had barely been twenty-four hours since he'd finally gone home. What's he doing back here? "Ryan, hey. Come on in?" Mike looked over his shoulder to see if Chester had looked to see who was at the door.

"Thanks," Ryan mumbled as he stepped in. Mike closed the door behind him, and Ryan found himself staring at Chester moving around the kitchen, washing vegetables. Something inside Ryan's stomach fluttered a little. Despite their mutual denial the day before, he hadn't been able to get his short kiss with Chester out of his head. I have to talk to him. I have to make sure he's okay with me...Mike let me in the door, so that means he hasn't told him. He cleared his throat before he looked back at Chester's boyfriend. "Sorry, I know I'm hogging your space," he said, and his face flushed a little at his choice of words. "I mean, I know I've been here a lot."