The Burglar

Homes were his favorite.  Not just houses or apartments but homes.  They had a certain feeling to them, that everything was fleshed out, even if a pack rat lived there they had something in every corner.  Homes of the middle class- husband, wife, and kid were the best.  They had enough money to buy jewelry, entertainment systems, and all that but not enough sense, at least not until their first robbery, to lock it all up properly with safes and security systems.

They would get wise, after this.  And they had the right mix of priceless stuff and things with street value.  A diary or some comic books meant very little but a necklace or some rings could get a couple bucks.  He would take the diary anyway, the home videos too.  He had a collection of them.  He liked to live vicariously through them.

The little arguments, the celebrations... and if he was lucky a sex tape.  Amateurs, the bad camera angles or placement was usually improved by the way they talked to each other, the ways they touched each other.  He had a collection of those too.

As he walked past the large flat screen television his finger traced a line through its dust, had he been better prepared he would take that too but all he could grab, all he ever grabbed anymore, was small things.  Things that fit into his bags, that didn't look too suspicious on the subway.  He had once been with a group of guys who would take the whole apartment.

Eddie and his crew, they had moving vans and uniforms and were so bold as to steal in the day time.  It was his first big lesson as he stood nervously beside Eddie who was pointing to all the surrounding houses.

"What do you think they know?"  He asked in that thick, scratchy voice of his.  "Do you think they talk with the Marshes here?  Do you think they actually give a fuck if these people are being robbed?  No, they don't care.  We’re just moving people.  Maybe Mr. Marsh got a promotion or got fired?  Too embarrassed to say anything to his neighbors so they would just disappear some weekend."

It had only confirmed what was his earliest suspicion.  Most everyone was running around in the world with little knowledge or concern about what was happening to anyone else.  Of course Eddie was a little too bold, got caught with his crew "moving" a house out in Shedwood.

Luckily he had not been along or else he would also be in jail.  Too old to end up in juvenile detention again.  This time it would be to the adult prison where a nice young thing... he didn't want to think about it.

Going to go to stop soon, not get caught, he thought to himself as he opened the freezer door.  He pulled out the first few boxes, half empty with food.  At the back though, in one of those one time purchases was the goods.  He spilled the contents out onto the counter.  Make sure they didn't have any food in there to disguise their valuables.  Pearl necklace, a nice medallion, and some rings- he collected them in his hand and put them into his bag.

Thirsty, he opened the refrigerator and removed a carton of orange juice.  Two healthy gulps and he set the carton on the counter beside the boxes.  Never have to worry about cleaning up.  He was about to turn away when he realized he had seen some take out cartons in there.  He turned back, opened the door, grabbed the cartons.  Leftover Chinese, his favorite and with chopsticks too.  He opened the carton and began to walk, not caring when bits fell from the sticks onto his clothes or to the floor.

Last stop, the son's room... he turned the handle and flung the door open.  A dark room with the blinds closed he flicked on the light.  Finished with the Chinese he dropped the carton.  A game system, laptop with a DVD player, a box just under the corner of the bed with a small amount of pot.  He took the lap top but left the game system because it was too bulky.  A few nick-knacks from his desk and a couple of books from his shelves.  Maybe he would have a good skin magazine.  He lifted the mattress and tossed it aside.  Three magazines, each with a different man on the cover.  A laugh escaped his mouth as he pulled them out and threw them about the room.  Son would have some explaining to do.  On his way out he turned off the lights.

It was easy from there to make his way down to the street, out a back exit and into an alley.  The taste of Chinese still on his tongue he took a piece of chewing gum from his pocket and unwrapped it.  He stuffed it into his mouth and began to chew loudly as he walked.


On the other side of town, in through an exit, up a narrow flight of stairs, through a door he had secured himself with a chain and combination lock he secured behind himself so he could get back out.  Another lock, another door... hallways, corners, he moved through them all quickly until he reached his little spot.

A room of good proportion, a collection of sheets and blankets made a bed on the floor and he had a book shelf, a windowsill, and a desk, each with a collection of items.  There was no heating but it was only fall, he told himself, come winter it would be worse but someone else before him had jacked into the power grid so he could get a few space heaters.

Coming back after looting a place was like when he was a child and his mother would buy him a toy or two.  When they got back home he would take them out of their packaging and look them over.  Make sure their accessories worked and that they had good flexibility.  And he would play all night but now he liked to give himself a break of about an hour, to come down from the burgle and get himself mellow.

He put the bags in the corner.  Soon he would be looking through the laptops and everything else he had collected.  Two shots of whiskey and having little to eat he began to feel warm in a few minutes.  He removed his clothes.  Down to his boxers he stepped into his bed.  Five foot six and skinny he wore several necklaces and bracelets most of hemp or a similar material with beads and charms on them.  A sentimental collection from homes and people he had met.  Some people called him a kleptomaniac but he just knew they wouldn't appreciate what they had, at least not like he could.  He raised two blankets up over his body, wrapped them around his body, and sunk to the floor.

An hour or more later awoke from his nap and looked about the room.  It was as he had left it.  Oh great, back here again, he thought to himself but he pushed the thought aside and stood, unwrapping himself from the blankets he picked up an old tea bottle.  He walked from the room into the barren room next to his opened the bottle.

Tea bottles usually made the best urinals, wide opening and could hold a good amount of fluid.  When he finished he screwed the cap back on and laid it down on its side against the floor.  Today he would roll it to the right.  Away it went.

Cold, he went back to his room where he pulled the blankets back around his body and he retrieved his bags.  In his bed he sat and opened his first bag.

He made two piles, one he would keep usually just collectibles and the like and the second pile of things he would try to sell.  This usually contained jewelry, laptops once they had been cleaned, and other electronics.

Making the piles was easy and he was disappointed until he saw the son's laptop and he remembered the magazines he had found.  What games and treasures would he find on it?  He connected its power cord.

Back to his bed and the warm sheets.  He opened the laptop and waited.  He was mildly discouraged when a password screen popped up.  He tried a few common passwords like god, password, and secret.  They didn't work.  He tried the kid's last name, his first name, but that didn't work.  Then he smiled to himself as he remembered the flaw in this version of Windows and hit the close window of the password screen.

He was pissed when the desktop appeared in its most generic form.  No doubt the kid would have custom everything.  He went to the My Computer icon and tried to get into the kid's files by going through the User files.  No luck.  It was starting to piss him off and his first thought was to kick it away, toss it across the room so that it broke into pieces but that wouldn't do anything.

Well, it would only give him momentary satisfaction.  He needed to do something else.  He checked the clock.  It was midnight.  He had one other option.  He gently pushed the laptop away, threw off the covers and stood.  A quick flex, grunting as he did.  The cold had always been in the room and now it was taking this chance to bite into his skin.  He dressed quickly feeling colder still as he pulled the clothes on, a few minutes he told himself.  He collected his things.  Especially the laptop. And began his path back out into the world.

***************
Twelve thirty, staring at his flat-screen monitor, Luke was trying to convince a dwarf to trade him a sword.  He had been at it for the last ten minutes.  Had been offering gold, weapons, and items but the dwarf just wouldn't give it up.

His last option was a straight out attack but of course that wasn’t allowable here in the trading grounds.  He would have to get the midget to go into the dungeon.  And then, at the best moment when they were nearly outnumbered by monsters attack him.  If he could get a few good strikes, then he could kill the monsters with a couple of spells and he would pick everything up.

All before 1:00 he said to himself.  I need to be up for work tomorrow.  Then there was a knock on his door.  A surprise.  Who would be visiting at this hour?  He didn't want to get it.  Last time it was a couple of tripped out tweekers from down the hall who had gone to the wrong door.  But there was another knock.  So he paused the game, turned off the monitor, and began to walk to the door.

He looked out the peep hole and sighed.  He could only see the top of a head, spiked brown hair.  I could walk away and pretend like I was asleep, he thought but his hands moved to unfasten the chain and open the door.  His guest pushed through.  In the half lighting of a few stray lights it wasn't hard to see his guest had several bags.

"What did you steal this time?"  He sighed.

"Luke," the voice was coy, "No hello?"

"Look Gibby you can't keep bringing your shit over here.  Last time you almost got caught on my line.  It’s my ass if you do."

"And a nice ass it is."  Luke looked down into those brown eyes.  He should have never brought him home, he thought.  He could already feel his cock hardening.

"You want to see what I brought?"

"Sure."

Gibby handed over the laptop.  "It has a password thing.  I tried canceling out of it but I still couldn't look at the files."

"Amateur."  he took the laptop and headed to his room.  "No one's home but you still should be quiet."

Gibby sometimes would let out a yell for no reason.  It was always annoying to anyone but him but he could see Luke walking away in t-shirt and boxers.  A quick hack, maybe a blow job...


Gibby walked to the refrigerator and took out a styrofoam container of leftovers and a beer.  Moments later he was back on the couch.  Only a vague wonder as to what Luke was doing he began to eat and drink.  After ten minutes of stuffing his mouth he sat back, resting his hands on his stomach.  It was warm, he was full, and he closed his eyes.

He didn't know how long he had been like that when Luke walked into the room.  "I have it open.  The password was beetlebullet."  Luke held out the laptop but Gibby didn't want to take it so he set it down on the coffee table beside the container.  "Shit, that wasn't my food."

"Write them a note.  They'll understand."

"They understood my last two notes and my explanation of you spending a week here.  They were happy when you were gone."

Luke was mad and he suddenly thought of how Gibby had just disappeared.  At first he was happy but then he missed having him around.

"Sit down," Gibby said lowly.

"Not tonight."

"Work?"

"Yeah, and..."

"Come here," he began to stand.  Luke thought to step away but that only caused his shoulders to move a little.  Gibby got close, hands around his back, down his boxers.  "I have to pay you back."

"You," he was about to say, “don't” when Gibby leaned close and kissed him on the neck.  "Okay, my room though.  And bring that stupid laptop and your bags."  He turned out of his arms and walked away.  Gibby picked up the laptop, his bags, and followed.

When he stepped inside Luke was cleaning his room.  Gibby grabbed him on the ass making Luke let out a cry of alarm.

"Sh, don't be so loud.  The neighbors,” Gibby said before he stepped to the foot of the bed and began to drop his things.  First his bags then his clothes until he only wore his necklaces and his bracelets.  "Do you mind if I shower first?"

"No, go ahead."

He went to the bathroom attached to the bedroom, turned on the light, started the shower, adjusted the water temperature, and took off any jewelry that would be ruined by water.  He smelled his pits and grimaced.  It had been days since he showered.  He stepped inside and picked up a bottle of shampoo.

When he was done he returned to Luke who sat at his computer.  Gibby moved beside him.

"This could be a while," Luke said.  “I just got this dwarf into a dungeon and he has something I want.”

“Well, hopefully I won’t be too distracting,” Gibby replied before he fell to his knees and crawled under the desk.

He grabbed hold of the bottom of Luke's boxers then began to pull.