Night Stalker

Pairing: Elijah/?
Rating: R
Warnings: Voyeurism, Masturbation, AU
Summary: Someone is watching…


Night Stalker

Obsession: Compulsive preoccupation with a fixed idea or unwanted emotion.

The moon had long since risen but it was hidden behind a veil of clouds and mist while darkness embraced the neighbourhood like a lover’s possessive hold. So complete was the gloom that even the street lights did nothing to dispel it, its faint luminance seemingly to make the shadows come alive as the cold late night breeze danced lightly over the leaves of the trees.

It was quiet. Gone were the insistent barking that shattered the silence of the night and even the crickets settled down for the moment, the stillness of the air interrupted only by an occasional chirp or two.

But the silence prevailed. And in the distant corner of the street, up on a tree where the shadows dwelled, a pair of eyes kept watch, its dark gaze fixing upon the bedroom window of the house next door.

A small light was lit in the upper left wing of the house, which might surprise any who look out of their windows at that moment for the people took to their beds early in this little town… and especially so in that particular dwelling. But the man knew better as he peered through the thick covering of leaves, his eyes feasting on the boy that stood before him.

The boy was Elijah. It was impossible not to know everyone’s name in a place as small as this – what more this pretty piece of work with large, innocent blue eyes and a shy smile. The perfect picture of innocence.

The curtains did little to shield what takes place in the room, its fabric worn thin after too many wash. And through the tiny crack in the veil of cotton as it flutters gently in the breeze, the man could see him – the boy – quietly standing only in his white, virginal cotton briefs at the foot of his bed, head cocked and eyes darting warily towards his room door, trying to listen to the imaginary sounds of his mother’s footfalls upon the stairway outside. But it was all silent. No one was up. No one was about. No chance of getting caught like a naughty little boy with his hand stuck in a cookie jar.

Such innocence. Such…deception. And in the cover of darkness, the man smiled, his teeth flashing white against his tanned skin.

With a visible sigh, the boy reached down, swiftly stripping himself of his briefs. He folded it neatly, meticulously turning in the corners of the material into a neat square before carefully placing it upon a chair. His eyes flickered one last time towards his door before crawling onto the bed to lie back against the pillows, facing the open window. And in that position, the man could see everything… like he always had every single night.

A slight tremor coursed through the slender frame before Elijah took his cock in his hand and started to stroke. Slowly. Tentatively. His fingers lightly tracing his length, occasionally skimming over the nest of dark hair at the juncture of his thighs, strikingly so against his pale flesh, eyes fluttering close as he became inexplicably lost in the movements of his fist over his burgeoning penis.

Up and down went the hand, pausing every now and again to give a delicate twist over the head of his cock before reaching down to play with his balls. His hips started to lift of its accord, cheeks flushed red with desire and when it became too much, those pink lips parted just a little while he panted in his attempt to stifle the sweet sounds he made.

The Man’s smile widened and he whispered soft encouragements under his breath as one of his hands unconsciously crept towards his own erection, mimicking Elijah’s movements, so in tune was he to the boy’s erotic display.

It was as if the boy had heard those unspoken words, sensing his Night Stalker’s need. It was as if he were giving a performance meant for no one but the man hiding amidst the shadows. Elijah’s head trashed amongst the pillows, throat flexing as he swallowed convulsively. He was so deliciously close and the man unconsciously licked his lips, imagining himself tonguing that stiff, young cock that was starting to bead with the first few drops of precum.

“Come on now. Come for me, boy,” the man whispered, his words riding lightly upon the wind as a mist before it dissipated into the chilly night air.

The boy became frantic with his desires. His hips swiveled uncontrollably, one hand steadily stroking his sex while the other reached up to play with his turgid nipples.

Such innocence. Such deception.

With a startled cry, those blue eyes flew open as he orgasmed, his cock spurting hot seed over his belly, staining his quivering flesh with milky semen while he flopped back against his pillows.

Spent.

Satiated.

Completely ucheuched and loving every second of it.

If only his mother knew.

With that thought in mind, the man allowed himself a small chuckle… as much as he could with his own rock hard cock that screamed for attention.

A last fleeting glance at the window showed the boy cleaning himself up with a handkerchief.

“Always the neat little boy aren’t you?” he murmured, amused.

Of course the boy did not answer as he swiftly wiped away all the traces of his come… wiping away any evidence that could serve as a revelation to his mother that her boy had been very, very naughty tonight.

With a mocking salute in Elijah’s direction, the Man climbed down the tree and crept away with the knowledge that he would return again the next night.

And the next.

And the next.

And why ever not? After all, it *was* an obsession… and a pleasant one at that.

**********


It is silent in the house at this time of the night. But the silence is deceiving and I prick up my ears for soft sounds that have nothing to do with the wind in the trees. The faint rustle of cotton and the patter of feet caught my attention… and with it come a sense of dread.

Momma. She’s awake.

I dive under the covers, just in time before she pokes her head into my room, her keen eyes focusing upon my flushed face.

“Aren’t you asleep yet?” she ask, her eyes narrowing in suspicion.

If she knew…

“Not yet momma,” I murmur, shivering slightly in apprehension.

“You haven’t been doing things you shouldn’t, have you Elijah?” she continues, her voice hardening in warning.

“No momma,” I answer dutifully.

If she knows… if she knows what I did, what I do every night… she would have taken off the skin of my back with her cane. I only know her too well.

“Good boy. Don’t forget to say your prayers before you sleep, Elijah,” she whispers and went away, closing the door behind her. I am safe then. For tonight.

My eyes flickers to the open window just in time to see the silhouette of a figure retreating into the darkness… but not before I see the sharp angles of his face brought into temporary relief under the dim street lighting. And I know then I have been watched.

And I also know who he is. It is impossible not to know everyone in a town as small as this.

The man is Viggo. The town’s very own resident pervert.

I smile.

He will come again tomorrow. And I will once again show him something worth seeing.

After all, it is *my* obsession.

THE END