So Much Smut...

Preacher's Son-Troyler

I  babysat the preacher's son, Troye. I had no idea why they even wanted him to be babysat, he was 18 years old. But, whatever, the money was good, and I'd never even seen the boy. He just stayed in his room while I was there. Sometimes, I tried to talk to him, ask him if he wanted something to eat, but he always turned it down. 

Although, I have to admit, he was damn cute. His voice was adorable, when I heard it singing through his door, and I saw pictures of him throughout the house. His eyes were this innocent, blue color.

Sometimes, albeit guiltily, since he turned 18, I had thoughts about making him mine. But, I'd heard his parents' sermons, "to sleep-eth with-ith another man-ith is-ith a sin-ith." Or some bullshit like that. 

Anyway, Troye's parents had just returned from a Thursday night sermon, they were only like two hours, yet I got $200. I actually had more than enough money to buy an apartment of my own, after only 5 years of babysitting for them. Thanking them, I walked to my car. Eerily, I felt a pair of eyes on me as I opened the door. Turning around, I looked down the street and towards the bushes. Satisfied that it was my imagination, I climbed into my car and put the key into the ignition. Looking towards the house one last time, I caught a glimpse of a pale face, Troye's, looking down at me. When he saw me looking back up at him, his eyes widened and the curtains  flew back down to cover the window.

Confused, but not really caring, I put my car into reverse and backed onto the street, eager to get home.

***

The next day, I received a call from the preacher. He and his wife were going out of town for the night and needed me to babysit Troye overnight. Jumping at the chance to make a truckload of money, I eagerly accepted. I know, I know, what self-respecting teenage boy would give up his Friday night to work for money he didn't need? One who was going to be a millionaire by 25, that's who.

That night, I drove over to the house and let myself in. I heard a quiet whimpering, so I figured maybe Troye was scared. 

"Troye? It's just me, Tyler." I called up the stairs. Slipping off my shoes, I dialed the preacher's number, letting his wife know I was here with Troye. 

"Thank you so much, Ty, dear. You're always such a help."

"Not a problem, Mrs. M. See you tomorrow."

"See you tomorrow dear!" I smiled slightly, hanging up. Turning on the TV, I went to the kitchen to make dinner.

***

Placing two coldcut turkey sandwiches on a plate and pouring a glass of orange juice, I walked up to Troye's room. 

"Um...Troye?" No response. "I made sandwiches for dinner..." I knocked lightly. I heard the bed creak as someone stood up, and a stifled whimper. 

He opened the door, and I was knocked back by his beauty. Believe me when I say, he was beautiful. His hair, tousled from hanging around on his bed, his cheeks slightly red. His eyes, blue. His eyes? They looked puffy, like he'd been crying.

"Are you okay, Troye?" I asked gently. He met my concerned gaze and blushed, nodding.

"I-I'm fine. Thank you for the sandwiches." He said, gesturing to the plate. I swiftly nodded once. 

Before he closed the door, I whirled back around. "If you need anything, you know you can come get me, right?" I asked him. He nodded, forcing a smile and closing the door. Sighing, I headed back downstairs. He was cute, very cute.

***

I hadn't realized that I'd dozed off, until I heard a "Tyler? Excuse me, Tyler?"

I sprung awake, looking around quickly, it was dark, not even 10 pm yet. My glasses hanging slightly askew. I gasped when I saw the boy standing in front of me.