Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you.
Predator Prey - 1. On the Prowl
It was cold outside, and dark. The temperature was dropping, and the wind was picking up. There would be rain soon, lots of it. He was glad to get inside the warm, dark tavern. His blue eyes scanned the bar, considering the possibilities.
He was definitely hot, and definitely on the prowl. He was bored with his roommate. Bored with the usual encounters he had on campus. He needed something different. Someone new. Tonight.
The place was nothing special, but it was off campus and alive with a younger crowd, many of them students, but lots of younger twenty-somethings, (and probably a few illegal late teens) who were out for a good time on a Friday night. The lighting was dim, the walls dark and covered in forgettable sports memorabilia. The smell of beer and bar food was unmistakable. Some kind of music with a strong, insistent beat thumped away, but the noise of conversations and the laughter of a couple of dozen groups was too much for it to be anything more than indistinct.
Most of the tables were taken with groups of four or five in mixed groups. He frowned. He was looking for pairs, or for isolated boys waiting for something to happen.
He sat back to watch, to observe.
There.
That one might be a good catch. Not too young,, smooth shaven, strong jawed, and chatting in a detached way with a couple of others. Clearly they were just acquaintances, not a party. When the others moved off, he would move in.
He was a predator watching the unwary prey. He smiled at the thought.
It had been too long since he had broken in someone new. There was always the delectable surprise of what he did to them; how the knowledge of what he had done with them choked them with guilt and shame. And then watching them crumble from it; knowing he had the power to hold them back from the precipice, and the power to let them go over it. Playing that string out, letting them run, then reeling them back in - it never failed to turn him on. It was a game that could last for weeks, months even.
There were endless possibilities. After the initial shock, guilt and fascination in equal measure would have the prey creeping back for more. Of course, sometimes a little incentive helped. But that was for later.
This boy, now. Hell, maybe a man, by the look of him. He was a little older than his usual prey, maybe mid-twenties. He might not fall prey to seduction, not easily. Might need some encouragement. Great build, hot body, even under that shirt. Even from where he sat, it was obvious that a hot, tight, desirable piece of ass filled those jeans.
The two acquaintances moved off. The target was alone. This was it.
He rose and strolled over. He smiled his best, most dangerous smile.
“Hey. I’m new here. Can I get you something?”
The target looked surprised. They always did.
“Sure, I guess. My name’s Ted.”
He stuck out his hand. The warm, firm grip sent a tingle down the spine. The game was on.
“Beer?”
“Yeah, OK.”
The beer was smooth and like the conversation that followed, it went easily enough. They exchanged pleasantries, checked out classes and hometowns, swapped some lame jokes, and watched the bar fill up. He couldn't tell if the bigger man would come to him willingly, or if he'd need some kind of inducement.
He was careful to let Ted drink more quickly.
He flirted with Ted, subtly at first, but a little more openly as Ted drank more. He didn't mind buying. The hook was being carefully baited.
Before long, they were old friends.
He knew Ted lived in residence – he’d seen the key card in Ted’s wallet when he fumbled trying to pay for a beer. He’d picked it up before Ted could get out any money. Really, Ted would be repaying him far more later on.
Time to pull on the line a little.
“Hey.” He almost needed to shout, now. “I’m gonna head out. Do you need a ride back to campus?”
Ted looked up at him, handsome, open, innocent. Deciding.
“Sure, that’d be great.”
Coats gathered, hats pulled on, they made their way outside and over to the car. It was chilly still, and heavy droplets were falling steadily now.
He parked in the student lot, careful to put the car in a place that meant they would have to pass his own residence hall. Getting out of the car, he turned up his collar against the rising chill and caught up to Ted who was starting down the sidewalk. At the doorway to his own residence, his pulse quickened. He paused, trying to control the tremble of anticipation he felt inside. Ted would definitely need a little convincing.
“Hey, I got some stuff with a little extra kick up in my room. You up for some?”
He flashed his best smile, despite the wind and spray in his face. The security lights glared in the darkness, illuminating the rain beginning to slash down across the campus walkways.
Ted seemed to hesitate. A gust of wind blew a spate directly into their faces.
“Sure, why not?” Ted grinned.
In the room, they stripped off their wet hats and coats, tossing them on a chair. The central living area was picked up but not particularly tidy.
“Hey, make yourself at home. We have cable,” he said amiably, gesturing at the forty inch television that graced one wall of the social room.
The couch beckoned. Ted sank down onto the cushions.
“So what is this stuff you’ve got?”
This was the tricky part with guys who needed to be persuaded. It worked best to keep one’s back to the mark, so he turned away.
“Hey, it’s a surprise.”
Glasses came out of a cabinet. Unseen, he slipped out a little packet of powder. He deftly deposited the contents in one of the glasses. He covered the action by rummaging in the cabinet, clinking bottles. He poured a little Stoli – not too much – and some tonic into each glass and turned back.
The glasses were set on the table in front of the couch.
“So, can you get the Leafs game on that thing?” Ted pointed to the television.
“Sure. There's hockey even in the tropics,” he laughed. But he couldn’t find the remote, so he stepped across the room to turn on the TV and found the station.
He reseated himself, watching, waiting.
His blue eyes glittered when Ted reached for his glass.
He picked up his own, shook out his blond curls, and smiled wickedly.
“Cheers.”
Ted made a face. “Wow, what is this?”
“It’s special Stoli I got from a friend out west. What do you think?”
“Not bad. A little weak though.” Ted took a long pull.
He took a pull of his own.
Ted watched the game for a moment, quietly following the action on the screen.
“Is the game OK with you, or did you have something else in mind?”
He most definitely had something else in mind, but it would wait a few minutes. His game wasn’t on the TV, and it was almost over.
They watched in relative silence for a time.
He looked over at Ted.
“Maybe I did have another idea.” At least, that's what he'd meant to say.
Suddenly, he seemed to have trouble concentrating on watching Ted for signs the little packet was working. The world seemed to slow down around him.
He tried to say, something like “Turn off the TV,” but the words just didn’t want to form properly.
And then the fog rolled across his brain, he remembered nothing more.
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Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you.
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