This might not end up being the first chapter (or a chapter of something larger at all) but I'm planning on continuing it, so here's hoping!


"You're mine." The low growl echoes in Travis' bones and his entire body seizes up. The darkness pressing in on his eyeballs is filled by the weight of the large body behind him. Claws play over his skin and his lungs forget to do their job for a few seconds. "Mine." The darkness breathes hot air over his back.

Travis licks his lips with his sandpaper-dry tongue. "What do you want?" he whispers.

The body presses him chest first into the wall. He can smell the old wallpaper and the dust drifts into his nose, making him sneeze. "You." Travis feels tears well up in his eyes. This thing is either going to rape him or eat him, maybe both, and no one will ever know. Adrenaline pounds in his ears. As terrified as he is Travis' body keeps telling him to relax. There's something in that voice that his subconscious wants to trust and it's freaking him out.

Eli presses the boy to the wall so his head is turned and one cheek is flat against the peeling floral print, then drags his clawed fingers down the front of the boy's shirt. The thin fabric tears easily and a whimper of fear slips out of the small one's mouth. Eli hadn't noticed in his hurry to scare the boy away, but he has a beautiful mouth. The dusky pink shapes are drawn into a tight line now, the boy clenching his jaw to stop the screams that obviously wanted to come tumbling out. Eli touches the skin under the torn fabric and relishes the way the boy shakes. He inhales sharply, making the boy freeze and then shake harder. He smell the fear on him, drowning out almost all else, and the adrenaline rushing through his veins. He imagines he can hear it screaming for him to run as he's held here, unable to obey. The thought makes him smile.

"Scared?" he asks, his rough voice low and soft.

A sob escapes those perfect lips, but the boy is far too petrified to manage any other sort of response.

Eli finds himself smiling, watching the swell of his boy's lower lip tremble. Then the smile falters. His boy. In the eighteen years he's been scaring people away from his home he's never had a thought like that before. His boy. So possessive, and yet… He shakes it off and takes a deep breath, the scent of unadulterated terror setting him back on task. "You should be." He flattens the boy to the wall with his body. "You're trespassing." He grips his sides with his hands, his claws pricking the skin and leaving two symmetrical rows on either side of his belly button. Eli feels the red dots begin to drip and almost feels bad for marring the pale expanse of the boy's stomach, but then he thinks of how beautiful the contrast in color must be and has to resist the urge to spin him around and see his handiwork for himself. His frown deepens. Something has him really off his game tonight, and it's not the boys who egged his front hall. He shakes it off and continues. "Trespassers must be punished."

The threat slides past his ear and wraps itself around his panicking mind, smooth as silk. Travis feels his frantically beating heart pass out, only to be revived moments later and resume its frenzied pace. Something in the tone makes punishment sound positively delicious, and he feels something shift in his groin even as stifled pleas fall from his mouth and the terror in his mind starts blocking out his logic. "Nonononono, please no… no, please… I'm sorry…"

The overwhelming dread rising off the boy fuels Eli as he growls and touches him roughly, leaving bruises in the wake of his hands. He could tear him apart if he wanted to, but he has never liked the idea of having to get rid of a body, so he simply toys with his prey for as long as he can get away with without them realizing they aren't actually going to be killed and eaten. But this boy, oh he's wonderful. Most people would be screaming, but he just begs. Eli loves the way his lips shake and move as he mumbles breathless prayers, a stray tear sometimes sliding to the corner of his mouth only to be unconsciously dabbed away with a dart of his tongue, and—

Eli sniffs. There's something under the fear. He hadn't noticed it at first, too focused on the task at hand to be bothered to look for anything beneath the overpowering terror he was feeding but there's definitely something there. Eli leans in and breathes gently, slowly, sorting through each of the emotions as they come. Fear, pain, anger, guilt, and… he exhales sharply. He wasn't expecting that. He slides one hand over the boy's chest and down the front of his shirt and the boy's whispers get faster, increasing in pitch but not volume. "I'm sorry… I'm sorry, please… please don't…" He almost wants to stop, but he doesn't.

Travis is crying in earnest now, trapped between the monster's body and the wall, his heart hammering in his chest as its hands go lower and— Travis freezes. No. Fuck no. The fingers curl, gently cupping his erection through the fabric of his jeans. Guilt and embarrassment wash over him. He's being abused by a monster in a dark, creepy old house, his clothes are torn, he's bleeding, probably going to die and scared out of his mind… and he's hard. Stupid, stupid, stupid! Am I really so fucking weak that I can't…? Silent sobs wrack his frame. The voice washes over him again, still terrifying but this time undemanding. "What's your name?"

"Tr— Tra—" his voice breaks and cuts him off. The creature makes no move to harm him further but doesn't back off either. "Tr—Travis."

Eli rolls the name around on his tongue before breathing it back down the boy's neck. "Travis."

Travis nods fearfully.

Eli runs the back of one finger down Travis' exposed cheek, so the claw is cool against his skin but doesn't scratch or cut him. "What's something so pretty doing alone in my house so late at night?"

"I— I was— It was a dare, to— to get on the List…" Travis stutters, his voice laughably small in comparison to the bass growl of his captor. "You have to stay in this—I mean—in your house fro—from sundown to—midnight." Travis keeps his eyes glued to the gross floral wall shoved up against his face, feeling stupid. "I should've said no…" he whispers, a new tear tracing a wavering path down his face.

"Yes, you should've." Eli states in a nearly inaudible snarl, drawing closer to the shivering body and wrapping his tail snugly around its thin waist. He pulls the same claw across Travis' neck, feeling his already frenetic heartbeat skyrocket. "Too bad you didn't refuse while you had the chance." Eli is really enjoying this. Something about this boy, the way he fits so perfectly against him, the little whimpers he makes and the smell of his sweat-slick skin mixed with the arousal he's still giving off in spite of his best efforts, is doing something to Eli that nothing has in at least eighteen years. Probably longer, actually. The dull ache in his crotch says that he's ready to drop, but as much as he would like to—as much as he would love to take Travis and use him and get those pretty lips all bruised and dirty and make him cry for a completely different reason—the fact remains that he's going to have to let him go. He's gone this long without truly hurting any of the idiots who invade his home and he isn't about to start now.

Travis's mouth feels like a small desert but he's afraid to swallow, the razor sharp claw still pressing in just below his chin. His eyes are squeezed shut and he's waiting, waiting for it to slit his throat. Instead the rest of the fingers join it until the monster's entire hand is wrapped around his neck, tilting his chin up slightly. Travis doesn't open his eyes. He doesn't want to know what that thing looks like. He can still feel the embarrassment burning his face in the cool night air but he doesn't care anymore. Another tear slips out from under his closed eyelids and hits the side of his mouth. Instinctively he parts his lips to catch it and another tongue collides with his own, mouth closing over his and forcing their lips together. His eyes snap open but they don't do him much good, blurred by unshed tears and looking out into an almost pitch black hallway.

Eli drags his tongue over Travis' lower lip as he pulls away, a satisfied smirk gracing his features at the shock on his boy's face. There it is again. His boy. He needs to get over that, and fast. He shoves Travis roughly back against the wall. "You get one last chance." He snarls. "Run." And with that he lets go and leaps back into the doorway of an abandoned room, fading perfectly into the shadows.

Travis stumbles back, off-balance from his sudden release. He looks around once and takes off toward the stairs. He hits the top step as the grandfather clock next to the front door begins to chime, and the twelfth bell sounds just before he throws open the door, tripping over the threshold and into Brian Daniels' arms. The footballer stands him upright and follows him when he runs down the stairs, not stopping until he's safely on the other side of the street. One of the kids waiting for him there laughs when they see that he's shaking. "See? I knew he couldn't do it."

Brian shrugs, shoving his hands into his pockets as he joins them. "Actually, he did. I heard the bells myself."

Daniel snorts. "No way."

"Way." Brian claps a hand down on Travis' shoulder. Travis jumps and scoots a few feet to the right, away from the crowd, wrapping his arms snugly around his torso as he goes. "Hey, you alright?"

Travis nods, still too close to tears to trust himself opening his mouth in front of all these people.

"Okay then, let's head back. We need to get back inside before room check."

Everyone begins to shuffle off but Travis hangs back. He sneaks a glance up at the house. It… kissed me… He touches his mouth gingerly. It was all weird rough tongue and fangy teeth… but it was definitely a kiss. Travis quickly brings his hand back down and hugs himself more tightly; somehow not at all surprised that no one noticed the tears down the front of his clothing or the bruises blooming on his arms and neck. He steals a final peek at the top window and runs to catch up.

Eli watches the group of teenagers go with a sense of longing. He sees Travis, the smallest of the crowd, with his arms around himself, like he's trying to hold himself together, and for the first time Eli feels a pang of guilt. Then Travis looks up, his eyes sparking with wonder, and touches his fingers to his perfect, pink lips. The lips that Eli just minutes before had claimed as his own. The guilt turns to something else that tugs at his chest as Travis walks away. "You're mine." He whispers, wishing it were true.

The ache in his groin has grown into a throbbing pain that makes it hard to walk, so Eli makes his way back to his room, determined to take care of it and then forget everything that happened that night. On his way there something catches his eye. A black, book-bound sketchbook lies on the floor halfway down the hall with a pencil case beside it. "Travis Daily" is written on the cover in silver sharpie and Eli can't help but smile, the feeling in his chest expanding exponentially as he picks them up and carries them to his room, hoping they're important enough for their owner to risk a return trip to retrieve them.


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Tea. For Anya my love, who is British in her soul. :)