Mr. Gumm stared at his blaring television, watching the colors fly across the screen and enthusiastically zigzag their way into his mushy brain. Mr. Gumm loved his television. (Even the pesky, screeching commercials that came at you with too many lines and waves all at once.) It understood him and did as he said, without crying out like that horrendous boy.

Ah yes, the boy. Gumm looked down at his shiny golden wristwatch,one of his few items of any value, hoping school would soon be over. For even indulging in television grows boring and uninspired over time. And though he hated the boy, the boy who was weak and fragile like his whore of a mother, he still tasted, so, so sweet. And who could pass up such an offer?

The trill of his aging doorbell set him on his feet, unlocking the front door and sliding it open to allow his companion inside. Gumm suppressed a growl, one that was equally as lustful as it was hateful. He was wearing his bright blue rain boots today, despite it being summer, simply because he adored both rain boots and the color blue. And is if that wasn't enough of a fashion statement, the ensemble had been topped off with his bright blue winter coat, the baggy one that reminded Gumm of those clowns at the circus, too colorful and far too loud. Like they had something, anything, that was worth showing off.

As soon as the door closed, Gumm was on him, a lioness craving satisfaction from fresh meat.

"I missed you," the rigid voice hissed, just before the man's tongue invaded his mouth and overwhelmed his senses. Of course, the boy was not entirely dimwitted. He knew that he was not wanted specifically, it was only his few qualities and accessibility that made him a frequented target. But he did not dare point this out, lest he willingly make the situation even worse.

And he tried his hardest to remain silent as the savage worked away, he always did, but at one point the pain became too intense for one child to bear, and words slipped out before he could stop himself. "Please," he panted, choking on his own breath, "I'm very tired and if you could just be a little more gentle-" To which the tall man grimaced, his crystal blue eyes popping like angry fireworks.

"What the hell did you just say?"

. . .

His father took him out to ice cream to make up for the new bruises, and he kissed his son when they went into the bathroom to wash their sticky hands, carefully so as not to disturb his already sore and split lips.

"I love you," he said. "You are delicious, my very own Candy Prince."

"Okay," Bubba responded, because he understood that's what he was supposed to say.

"No, not okay. Now you say it too."

"I am your candy prince."

And tomorrow would be just the same, tomorrow Gumm would watch his beloved television and check his golden wristwatch, tomorrow Bubba would come home and be punished for something, and finally they would both go out to ice cream, and look at the stars through the shopkeeper's large windows.

I just remembered I can't link helplines on here jjdhhjjjsdhjdshh , I swear I put some on my original drafts but that must've been on AO3 or Wattpad. Maybe I could put links in my bio?

Either way I get you can just search this stuff but y'know, anything to make it easier to get help. So if you or a loved one is going through any of the negative things mentioned in my angsty gay ramblings(or not mentioned at all), I implore you, GET HELP.I love and support you.

-Writer