Creep

Chapter One

Kyung-Min's POV

I always made sure that I stayed a good ways away when I was tailing him, just in case I needed to duck and hide when he figured something wasn't right, that someone was watching him, tailing him. It didn't happen often but sometimes I guess he got that prickle under his skin, the little niggle in the back of his mind that told him, "Turn around", but when he listened, when he turned, no one would be there, which prompted him to stop listening to the little warning. It was right though, the little voice he probably had in the back of his mind that was supposed to keep him safe, his instinct that told him when something wasn't right.

Since he stopped looking over his shoulder nowadays, I've been able to get a lot closer when I followed him. I didn't think anything of it, just thought that he'd stopped being suspicious of someone actually being there, tired of always being overly cautious only to have apparently no reason to be acting such way, even though he actually did. Not that he knew it though. I'd finally been able to get close enough to his house to look inside though, due to this new development. He's stopped closing the curtains when he gets home. Maybe he's just forgotten to do so or maybe he just doesn't care who sees him anymore, which is a plus for me.

He lives in a pretty much abandoned neighborhood, so I don't have to worry about anyone else creeping on him or anyone else wondering what I was doing outside this person's house, outside his window yet not going inside. I didn't know what to do at this point, I've never been able to get a glimpse of the inside of his house - it was thrilling, exciting, new. I wanted to explore, the inside intrigued me and I wanted to commit every corner and crevice to memory so that if I returned I wouldn't get lost.

I ducked into the bush near the window when I saw movement cominf from the stairs. I heard shuffling from inside before I heard the front doow creak open, making my heart thump wildly inside of my chest, breath catching in my throat as I watched him lock the door before turning around and beginning to walk away from the house. I was clearly visible from where I laid to the door and the fact that he didn't notice me was a miracle. Or at least, that's what I thought. I peeked through the leaves of the dying bush and watched him disapear behind a fence as he walked away from the house he occupied and I considered following him but froze when a better thought entered my mind.

I looked back at the house, getting up and studying the window before my breath hitched, again. This was just too lucky to be a coincidence. He had to know, had to know that someone had been following him home, was trying to trap them. Only someone stupid could not tell that the unlocked window, the stupidly unlocked window was a trap. Obviously I was of the stupid variety because I took the chance and hefted the window up, pulling myself inside before shutting it behind me, not locking it or pulling the curtains closed - I couldn't leave any evidence that I was here, right?

I turned around and took in the simplistic style of the home I had technically broken into, heart beating rapidly inside my rib cage. I was inside. His. House. How insane was that? I've watched him, followed him, dreamt of him, loved him since my freshman year and I've finally made it this far. Some people might think that talking to the person they secretly loved was a huge step, and sure I would consider that a step up in our relationship as well, but this? This was a leap, really.

I had to hold back an almost strangled giggle as I begun exploring the place, starting with the living room before going to the attached kicthen. They were open to one another by a wide, arched wall, the dining room apart of the kitchen like most cheap houses were built and it was lightly furnished, just the necessities one person would need to live comfortably. After that was done being explored I headed back to the living room, barely glanced inside a coat closet before gidily going to and up the stairs that I'd seen him go up and down not moments before.

Upstairs there were only two doors. A bathroom and his bedroom I assumed, and I assumed right. The door to the bathroom was open and I could still feel the light steam from the seemingly quick shower he must have taken. My eyes immediately landed on the towel thrown haphazardly on the floor and I had to swallow hard to get past the lump that had formed in my throat. That towel... he must have just used it right? I walked slowly towards it and bent down, picking it up and the dampness to it confirmed my suspicions and it made the front of my jeans tighten with arousal when I brought the fluffy fabric to my nose, moaning at the musty but clean smell to it.

Keeping it pressed to my face, I turned and made my way towards the only other door up here, which was closed unlike the bathroom - his bedroom. I opened it after taking another deep breath in of the towel and held my breath as I took in the asthetic of the room that was solely him. I wasn't  disapointed either. It was pretty plain, like him and the rest of the house, dark rich colors and a few band posters scattered about, a computer desk with a computer on one wall and a small bookshelf with books on another. A door on the wall next to the entrance gave way to a closet that smelt heavenly, like him. Then there was the bed.

Towel still in hand, I crept over to the messy piece of furniture and didn't waste any time in laying down, tangling myself in the covers that smelt purely of him, of a fresh breeze, of the ocean, musky - it made me hot, made my cock leak like a faulty faucet and the knowledge that I had the towel he'd just used to wipe off his naked body didn't make the situation any better. I couldn't help myself, really, I couldn't. I knew I shouldn't, knew the first rule should have been not to touch a thing, to leave everything as it was so that there would be no suspicions when he came home, but it was too tempting to resist.

My hand was down my pants in no time and I laid on my side, pressed into the sheets, my other hand pressing the towel to my face. I couldn't hold in the sounds I made as I imagined his hands on me, his mouth on me, his dick in me, and I knew I was lost to the pleasure that my imagination and hand brought me. I was so lost that I didn't hear the front door opening and closing, cautiously though, as if the person who opened it didn't want to make a sound. Maybe that's why I didn't hear any footsteps on the stairs. They knew someone was here, knew that if they wanted to catch them, they had to be as sneaky as the person following them had been. I didn't hear a door creak, because I'd left it open, like a fool so when I turned onto my back and came with a gasp, his name heavy on my tongue, capturing any evidence on my chst and in my hand, and opened my eyes, the next gasp that left me wasn't one of pleasure and release, but of shock, fear.

The look on his face was dark. Dark, confusd yet not surprised and slightly... aroused. He liked what he saw to a degree but I could definitely tell that he did not like what he saw. I stuttered, fumbled with my words, could feel my cheeks get how, my neck and my chest. It was a full body flush as I tried to find a valid excuse even though I knew there wasn't any that could explain why I was in his bed, in his house, saying his name, face shoved in his towel and bed covers as I masturbated to his scent.

"Liam... I - I..." I froze, body becoming stiff as he approached me, anger in evident in every step he took, in the way his hands were clenched tightly in fists. I sat up, throwing my hands up quickly to protect myself from the inevitable but it was no use as he grabbed both of my wrists in one of his large, callosed hands, and yanked them away from my face. I couldn't help the moan that left my lips as the sparks from where he was touching me eploded through my post-orgasm body but that was replaced by pain and eventual unconsiousness as his fist met my face harshly, effectively knocking me out, probably what he'd been aiming for. The last thing I remember doing before succumbing to the darkness, was letting out that giggle I'd been holding, smiling dumbly at the object of my obsession as he slowly swam and mixed with the blackness that took over my vision.

A/N: Uhm... I don't know? Need something to get the creative juices flowing to help me with my other stories and I've always wanted to do something with two fucked up boys so.... here ya go?