"Why didn't you tell me sooner?"

Bubba raised his arms upward, stretching the muscles that hid underneath several layers of baby soft skin, the kind they rave about in Aveeno commercials.

"This isn't the kind of thing that it's really easy to bring up. Do you first introduce yourself to strangers by mentioning your deceased alcoholic mother and your attachment issuses that lead you to make yourself so emotionally vulnerable (and shockingly obedient) towards anyone who so much as sleeps with you?"

Marshall coughed; choking on his Cheerwine and struggling no to snort it back out.

"Not just anyone." He corrected, wiping at the corners of his lips in case of any escaped liquid.

Bubba batted his shockingly long lashes in return, allowing the slightest of smiles to meander across his face like a river careening down a deepened path.

"Oh, so I'm special, am I?"

"You're changing the subject."

"Very well." Bubba uncrossed his legs. Recrossed them. Uncrossed again. He gestured for the other boy to sit on his lap, but Marshall lit up like a Christmas tree and vigorously shook his head in protest.

"Fine. I figured you'd be more than happy with any gracious excuse to sit on me, but suit yourself. You have something else you'd like to ask me then?"

"Look, I'm really, really sorry," Marshall said, "about your dad." Bubba leaned forward, purposefully allowing his hand to linger against Marshall's as he reached for the half-emptied can of Cheerwine. He downed the sugary sweet remains in a single swallow, and then returned it from whence it came.

"Questions and lap-sitting, Lee. Those are your two options as of now."

"Did all the other guys get only two options?"

Ouch.

Their verbal interaction went from sympathy to distrust in mere seconds. This is why Bubba wasn't so keen on lengthy conversations.

Bubba squinted his eyes, as if staring into something brighter than the sun itself.

"God. You really don't get it, do you? You're different."

Different. Marshall wasn't sure exactly what the word contextually meant, or whether he should be flattered or terrified. Possibly both.

Marshall finally surrendered to Bubba's second offer and plopped himself down on the other boy's lap, straddling both of his legs so that the two could remain facing each other even in such a form of contact. This was potentially a very physically betraying moment of exposure, as Marshall was already breathing much more rapidly and his heartbeat began to quicken and Bubba could now feel the coarse vibrations of the rising and falling of his chest, like a melodic lullaby that only he was permitted to experience. He sort of enjoyed that type of a notion. Sort of.

"Different how?

Bubba sighed. He hadn't realized that voluntary honesty meant hours worth of annoying ass interrogation. He toyed with the other boy's hair, avoiding his eyes as much as possible. Telling the truth in such an intimate manner gave him a queasy sort of feeling in the stomach.

"God damn it Lee, do you want a cookie or something? I already told you I loved you. Hell, I begged you to stay here did I not?"

Pen drop.

"You also said that you were afraid of me."

Bubba hummed softly, a tune Marshall could almost recognize, but not filly make out under layers of other thoughts and sounds and emotions. His breaths remained slow and even, as if he couldn't be touched by anything or anyone. His breaths were liars. Bubba slid his hands out of his companion's raven-toned hair, down the canvas of his back until they found his neatly carved hips.

"Not like it was a lie."

"You think I'd hurt you?"

Bubba was still humming, but he did pause his mumblings to give the question a bit of thought, just for the courtesy of it all. "Almost did."

Marshall sighed. "I mean, more like your dad did. That kind of hurt."

Bubba wasn't sure of the right answer to that particular question, but he knew it wouldn't align with the truthful answer anyways so he deemed it his best option not to say anything at all.

It was a miracle his butler hadn't burst in on them yet, Bubba felt sure that it was bound to happen eventually if they continued to "hang out". His aunt, on the other hand, at least knew better than to barge in uninvited when Bubba had boys over. Unless that boy was Angel, but even then she avoided unannounced entrance out of a mutual and unspoken respect for her nephew.

Marshall quickly grew quite annoyed by the sudden silence. "Are you going to answer me, or not?" Bubba's hands remained lingering amongst the lower portion of Marshall's body, yet somehow they had now found their way into his waistband. And lower.

Marshall narrowed his eyes, Despite his rosy cheeks splattering red across creamy brown skin, and the way his body seemed to react positively and fall neatly into place of the transaction like the final portion of a jigsaw puzzle, Lee began quickly prying the ice-cold hands off of his body.

Bubba groaned, "You're killing me here,"

Before that day Marshall might have caved in at that point. But this was not before. He glared right back, eyes ablaze with everything that words cannot express. His furrowed brows dug downward like miners busy at work, trying to make a living that they could utilize to support their families.

"Likewise," he replied, voice as bitter as straight black coffee.

"Ooo, that's like a three-point vocab word for you, isn't I t?"

"You're trying to distract me," accused Lee.

"Am I?"

"Are you?"

Bubba just shrugged. "Maybe a little bit."

Marshall closed his eyes, breathing inward slowly. Then out. Steadying his system of respiration, trying to get in sync with his company. "Why do you do that? Push me away from any legitimate bonding or confrontation with all your tricks and excuses but not ever let me truly leave?"

Bubba reached into his pocket, quickly retreating when he realized he reached into the wrong one, and checked again, in his left this time. "Gum?"

Marshall shook his head. Their faces were both so close together in proximity that in doing so several locks of his inky black hair brushed up against Bubba's face and tickled his smooth skin on contact.

"You answer my question first, then maybe I'll consider it." As if Bubba cared either way.

Bubba finally looked him in the eyes, blowing a bubble at him with the sugar free gum from his pocket that smelled ever so distinctly of watermelon. He then returned to chewing. Slow, rhythmic, steady as the start of the tide.

"Guess."

"You don't want to be alone?"

Bubba laughed, snorting a little. It was odd to hear something so vulnerable and realistically human coming from someone who painted themselves to be a god. It was alluring yet…comfortable. Marshall could feel his own body rise up a little as it was swept away with the vibrating motion, only to quickly return to its original position.

"In contrary, I quite enjoy my alone time. Guess again. I'm afraid it's a bit more specific than that."

Marshall slapped at his thighs in exasperation.

"You promised you'd just tell me this stuff!"

Bubba blew another bubble, so very close to Marshall's face that if he were to so much as twitch even slightly, the gummy goop would be sure to transfer over. The watermelon scent both teased and irritated his nostrils, burning his senses like a newly lit match. Satisfied by the effect, Bubba withdrew his creation once more, and returned to simply chewing.

"Did I?"

Marshall through his hands up in the air in surrender, officially done with making an effort. Clearly this was getting him nowhere, it was just another limitless mind game meant to give him a way to busy himself, but keep him right where he had been all along. Square 1.

"You're doing it again. I'm leaving."

"I don't want to lose you. Is that what you want to hear?"

"…What?"

"I don't want to lose you specifically, but I don't want you to end up like him."

"Think I will?"

When there was no answer Marshall immediately outstretched his arms. At first Bubba wasn't quite sure what he was meant to expect, and he automatically tensed up and wrapped his own arms around his torso instinctively in order to defend his vital organs, only to find himself surrounded by warmth before he could cry out any sort of a protest.

Oh. He's…hugging me?

Bubba wasn't used to this sort of an embrace, he wasn't exactly sure what sort of retaliation was socially acceptable or what retaliation he was even comfortable with making and so he simply sat there, alone in his room with a young man perched on his lap hugging him like they were the only guys on earth. And maybe Bubba wouldn't have minded if they were.

"I'm sorry," Marshall whispered, still holding him tightly and Bubba was starting to feel it in his bones like a good soulful song.

But of course all good things must come to an end, and soon this philosophy was proven by the slamming open of the bedroom door, allowing unwanted light to flood the picture perfect bedroom.

God I need to teach him to knock, Bubba thought, but his thoughts were interrupted by actual words and those words by legitimate actions.

"Guys," a very out of breath Flame began, gently raising the unmoving body he cradled so cautiously in his arms as if to prove his very point, "I think there's something wrong with Angel."

Currently I'm having internet problems at home and this is like my last day of school, so this might be my last update for a while until I get things sorted out. Sorry.

-Writer