Gumball paced nervously, dinner sitting in the pit of his stomach like a dead weight. He hadn't really been all that hungry, but the scientific part of his brain knew he would need the energy for...for...

Oh, there was no really dignified way to say it, was there? For when Marshall Lee fed on him.

Night had fallen at least an hour ago, and there was still no vampiric prince at his window. Perhaps the lazy boy had decided the deal was too much trouble and had flown off to the Nightosphere?

A knock interrupted his hopeful daydream. Holding back a sigh, Gumball straightened himself and opened the window.

"Hey there, Bubbles. What's a pretty boy like you doing in a place like this?"

"You're hilarious," The pink prince retorted. "Why don't you stop floating out there and get this over with?"

"That's not much of an invitation."

Gumball could practically hear the honey dripping from his tone, but all it did was irritate him. "It's as good a one as you're going to get."

The grey boy crossed his arms. "Ah, no can do, candy boy. If I don't feel welcome, I might as well go and hang out with Fionna. I'm sure she wouldn't mind letting me-"

"Fine! Fine." Gumball stepped back from the window and gave a mocking little bow. "Would you like to come in, Mr. Lee?"

"It would be a pleasure." Marshall smirked and glided into the room, swooping effortlessly around the other prince and surveying his surroundings with interest.

Gumball turned to keep his eyes on him, emitting a sound of indignation. "Where are you going? I thought you were here to feed!"

"All in good time, Bubbles. I have to feel at home first." Marshall floated to the prince's dresser and started opening drawers curiously.

"Excuse me, do you mind?!"

"Not at all, but I appreciate your concern." Marshall pawed through several drawers before being pushed away by an irate Candy Prince.

"An invitation into my bedroom is not an invitation into my clothes!"

Marshall smirked, fangs glistening. "Isn't it?" He tossed aside a pair of cotton-candy-colored underwear as if losing interest in them. "Don't worry, sweet tart, when I want to get into your panties, I'll be a gentleman about it. That's your thing, right?"

Gumball huffed, fighting the heat in his cheeks. "Gentlemen aren't my thing at all!"

"Of course not." Marshall winked. "You prefer bad boys."

"If you insist on being so juvenile then you can just leave."

Suddenly the vampire was a breath away from him. Gumball hated when he did that. "Oh I assure you, Bubbles. There is nothing juvenile about me."

For once Gumball didn't have a retort. Gawking for a second, he barely managed to collect himself and clear his throat. "Let's get down to business." He sat on the edge of his bed and extending his arm, wrist facing his unwanted visitor. He would be brave about this. He was the valiant hero, after all. "Bon appétit."

Marshall Lee drifted over, that arrogant smile still on his face. "You have a way with words, candy boy, but I much prefer to feed from the neck."

"Your preference wasn't a part of the deal."

And then the Nightosphere prince was looming over him, cold hand gripping Gumball's offered arm. The larger male leaned down, his frame blocking any escape his candied counterpart might have had.

"Are you sure, Bubbles?" His breath ghosted across Gumball's neck, and sent a wave of shivers down his spine. "I'm sure I could make it enjoyable for both of-"

"Wrist." Gumball ground out resolutely. "And wrist only."

Marshall shrugged, once again the epitome of cool. "Suit yourself."

There was a moment then, right as Marshall opened his mouth to sink in his fangs, where Gumball was stuck with a paralyzing terror. For that single instant, he almost backed out, almost lost his nerve and pulled away. But then unrelenting canines embedded themselves in his flesh and the pain wiped out all other thoughts.

And boy, was it painful. It felt like his wrist was being stabbed and burned at the same time and he let out a cry of agony before he could stop himself. Yet the torment was a fleeting one, quickly counteracted by whatever laced the vampire's vile saliva, muting the initial sensation to a mild discomfort. A whimper escaped Gumball's throat and he opened his eyes, not remembering having closed them.

Marshall Lee's lips were pressed firmly against his wrist, the vampire's eyes closed blissfully as the delicate pink arm in his hands rapidly lost color. Gumball suddenly felt lightheaded, but whether it was from being drained or from watching the process itself, he wasn't sure. A cold feeling was creeping up his arm, tingling at his extremities and he glanced down at his body. The fear resurfaced weakly as his rich pink coloring faded. His breaths were coming shorter and faster and the lightheaded feeling intensified.

"Don't be afraid," a low voice purred in his ear. His head was resting against the vampire's shoulder and he couldn't remember that happening either. "You're not dying." There was hot breath on his throat and he knew that was a bad thing but he couldn't remember why. "I don't cash in such an easy meal ticket so quickly."

The pain blossomed once more, now at his throat, and this time, Gumball didn't have the strength to protest.

His body felt heavy and disconnected. He was sure Marshall was lying and was actually going to kill him.

Then something happened. The sinking, draining feeling shifted into one of giddy euphoria. Gumball was hyper aware of everything, from the scratchy rug at his feet, to the dull ache in his abandoned wrist, to the too-warm lips pressed to his neck.

The vampire seemed to sense the change, and he paused his suction to lick at the wound. "There, that's not so bad, is it?"

But the rise of pleasant feeling stopped at the broken contact, and Gumball could only feel the pain and emptiness again. How could two little teeth hurt so badly?

The pink prince let out a small whimper, too confused by the abrupt switch between pain and pleasure to formulate a whole sentence.

"Shhh, now. It'll get better, I promise."

Then his heated lips were back on Gumball's neck and his teeth dug in. The Prince could feel the color draining from his face, and his neck beginning to burn. He gave one last feeble attempt to object, but he slipped into blackness before he could utter a word.

Gumball's eyes snapped open. Bewildered, he tried to sit up, but his whole body was too heavy to budge. Groaning, he slowly gathered his thoughts. What had happened? The last thing he remembered was...

Oh. Right. He had been fed on by Marshall Lee.

His pink hand flew to his neck and he felt two small, tender points on his pink skin. "T-hat, that, that-" The Prince sputtered, searching for an appropriate epithet. "savage!"

A knock sounded at his door. "Prince Gumball, the royal breakfast is almost ready. Do you wish to take it in bed?" Peppermint Maid called from the other side.

"What? No." He glanced to the window blearily, trying to guess the time. "Have I slept in that late?"

"Just an hour or so later than usual, your highness." To his horror he heard the door knob begin to turn. "Is something wrong?"

"No! No. Nothing's wrong. I was just getting my beauty sleep. I'll be out in a minute."

Thankfully the door did not open. "Of course your highness. I will have them prepare breakfast as usual."

Her tiny footsteps faded away and Gumball let out a sigh of relief. With resolve, his pushed himself up and out of bed. He needed to get dressed, and do something about his punctured neck.

The Prince had settled on a lavender cravat that covered both the wound, and the swelling.

The day dragged on like molasses down an iceberg. Royal endeavors that he normally enjoyed seemed tedious and demanding of far too much energy. No matter how many pastries he ate, he still felt sluggish and drained.

The night could not have come any sooner. Once the last bit of light ebbed from the sky, and the candy people began to retire, Prince Gumball stumbled to his room and threw himself on the bed.

"Thank goodness," He murmured into his pillow. "All I need is a good night's-"

A knock sounded on his window.

"Fuck ."