Kai Parker One Shots

The Boy Next Door

Music thumps through your speakers as you twirl in front of your full length mirror, examining the royal blue crop top you'd be wearing to your friend's party this upcoming weekend. It's a gorgeously sunny day in downtown Los Angeles, your bedside clock reading 4:00pm. "Hey, I heard you were a wild one," you sing to your barely clothed reflection, belting out the lyrics to the early 2010s Flo Rida ft. Sia hit and feeling better than you had in a long time. Everything was working out in your life at the moment, you'd secured the job of your dreams and this newly purchased townhouse had been in the city you'd wanted to live in since you were just a child. Your feet glided along the wooden floor, careful to avoid the pile of already tried on clothes littering most of its space. Side to side you bumped your hips, laughing as you showcased your dance moves to an audience of one: yourself. Or at least you had assumed, as you happen to peek out the window and find a stranger gawking.

There, comfortably sat in a lounge chair is your newly moved in neighbor, Kai Parker. Rays of sun caressed his golden skin as the small of his back leaned into the fleece pillow, bare chest on display and not much more covering his modesty than a pair of figure-hugging gray sweatpants. Eyes locked on yours as he parts his thighs, and runs his palm gingerly up the extent of his member so as to make it spring to life in the constricting cotton fabric. Without having uttered even a simple word, just his expression alone translates as a provocative invitation. To mirror him, or maybe even to just to walk out the door and crawl into his lap. Shock courses through your veins as you duck out of view and scrimmage through all the discarded outfits circling your mattress. A robe sticks out and you hurriedly pull it on, peeking once more to find he hasn't moved an inch. It seems he had expected a different reaction, but wasn't giving up at the first sign of a rebuff. It would take a bolder response than that to rid yourself of him, and so instead you decided to yank your ivory curtains fully shut. It's not as though he could just enter your house, and this guaranteed safety at least until the next time you left. Maybe picking this specific community had been an error in judgment if this is what you'd be putting up with daily. The only remaining solution besides avoiding the problem altogether was one you weren't keen on - confronting. Men were more often than not persistent, but sometimes laying down the law could be enough and it was at least worth the chance. Tomorrow would serve as a reckoning.

The evening rolled around quite fast, and yet regardless of whatever distraction you'd had for the past couple of hours it had been impossible to keep him off your mind. Why? It was the question you simply could not answer. You had watched a two-hour movie and yet the image of him played on a loop in your brain as though he was better entertainment. You'd had a nice phone call with your best friend, and still zoned out wondering his thoughts after you'd ignored him entirely. All the way until now, as you gathered ingredients to make a sandwich for dinner, had you not stopped. As you smear a dab of mayonnaise across the honey turkey sat atop a slice of lettuce and American cheese, you contemplate only to reach no true verdict and so you eat in a bit of a huff.

Hours pass, and next thing you know, you're stirring in bed. It's pathetic that not even your silk bedsheets and weighted blanket are enough to relax you anymore, and so you toss from left to right planning exactly what you'll say to him when the moment happens. Damn him for ruining the sleep you already lack, and for making you suffer through this flurry of confusion and stress. Originally, the plan had been to be the bigger person and speak of your discomfort in an understanding manner, but as you grow more exhausted you know that it's all going to be aggressive instead. Sympathy isn't for people as gross as he was and would probably continue to be unless you put your foot down. If he wanted to go to war, then so be it. In order to take down an enemy, you have to be as smart and calculating as they are and you'd be damned if you didn't fight to the absolute death.

The following day you shuffled into a beige cardigan so you wouldn't be as exposed, especially since you were in a nightgown and trudged down the stairs. A quick check outside confirms he's already out there again, except this time he's oblivious that it is now him being watched. Kai is busily hosing down the hood of his Ford Mustang, shirtless once more except today he dons a backwards Padres snapback and dark wash pair of Levi's jeans. Back muscles flexing as he moves from left to right, making sure not a dot of soap remains and the car's exterior is glossed to perfection. It pains you to admit, but the whole idea of secretly observing someone without their knowledge is actually thrilling. That you could get caught any moment, but the subject of your attention is of utmost importance above all else.