Chapter Text
“Get out of my apples, you thief!”
Laughing as he clenched a pile of juicy red fruit in his arms, Marshall Lee Abadeer hovered above the ground, zooming through the air. Behind him, a small yellow creature with a long nose chased after him, grumbling and shouting.
There was no way Tree Trunks would catch up to him. Even if the guy didn’t have stubby legs, he was getting old and slow. These chases had been a weekly occurrence for some time and each time his opponent seemed to get slower.
Ceasing his hurry as he went into the neighboring trees – the little dude usually gave up around then – the Vampire King began the leisurely stroll back toward his home. The sun had just finished lowering and he had the entire night to enjoy. Shopping had seemed like a boring venture, so he’d settled on swiping some apples and calling it a trip.
The journey back was easy, but long. Usually he took the time to go around the creepy woods outside of Tree Trunk’s orchard, but considering the fact that Lumpy Space Prince was hosting a wicked party in a few hours, the dark-haired man decided to toss out the idea and just make his way through the forest.
Careful not to drop his meal, Marshall began to float along the ground, dodging the thick trees with ease. He thought about flying above them, but he’d never been fond of going too high. For some reason it seemed to put pressure on his ears and it wasn’t really a pleasant feeling.
He could feel eyes watching him, but he brushed it off as squirrels or cats or something. The ancient man was pretty sure that the rumors about this place were absolute beef and people were just pansies. What could be so scary about a place full of trees? It wasn’t like the objects themselves could reach out and-
Ouch!
Gasping, Marshall spun around, crystal blue eyes wide with surprise. Something had bitten him! His lower back stung, his racing heart doing nothing to help the sudden ache.
With a groan of frustration, the young man turned toward his destination once more.
He hit the ground moments later, apples spilling all around him.
In all honesty, the Candy Kingdom Prince wasn’t quite sure what the big deal was. From what he understood, Marshall Lee spent tons of time alone and yet Fionna seemed extremely flustered about the whole thing, practically throwing a fit in his lab as she paced back and forth.
“He was supposed to show up!” She screamed, arms in the air as he and her best friend, a feline named Cake, watched her groan in frustration. “We set this day like, two weeks ago! But nope, nothing! So I called LSP and he tells me Mar bailed on him too! What’s with this, Peej!?” With a deafening growl, the blonde suddenly whirled on the Prince, who jumped in surprise. “This is totally unlike him!”
“…It is?” Bubba inquired, only to cringe at the glare he received. “Alright, alright… I’ll call around and ask if anyone has seen him.”
“You’re globbing right you will!” The teenager shrieked. She was acting crazier than normal… it must have been those female hormones or whatever. Girls were weird and he hated dealing with them, save for the adventuress.
“I’ll let you know if I find something,” he mumbled, just to get her out of the lab. Truth be told, he intended to call perhaps one or two people before deeming the Vampire a useless, lazy bastard who abandoned his friends. Math, if he didn’t care so much about Fionna, he would have just done that anyways.
Before his best friend could yell at him some more, Cake grabbed hold of her and pulled her from the room, screaming. Yep, it was definitely those girl hormones. Icky.
With an annoyed noise, the Candy Prince picked back up where he’d left off, trying desperately to discover a way to stop sugar from melting in water. Truth be told, it was an idea he’d defaulted back to several times in his long life, yet every time it ended up a failed experiment and eventually the man would scrap all of his notes, deeming it impossible.
After several hours of very little progress, he finally flopped into his seat in defeat. Hoping to distract from the impending failure, Bubba pulled up his phone and dialed the number of the most random person he could think of, knowing there was no possible way he could have seen Marshall.
Several moments later, he sighed heavily as Tree Trunks cried, “Yes! That little butter ball stormed my house and stole some of my apples!”
Great. So he had seen the snarky Vampire King. “When did this happen, Tree Trunks?”
“Three days ago!” The yellow being declared, before starting off on a frustrated rant. The Prince only halfway listened until the other man cried, “Then he disappeared into that creepy forest!”
Oh. Well, at least that was something. For all the pink-haired man knew, Marshall had tripped and bumped his head on a rock and died. Oh, if only such a thing were possible… “Thank you. You’ve been very helpful.”
Hanging up on the other man mid-sentence, Bubba dialed up Fionna, only to frown as Cake answered with,
“What is it, Your Highness? Now isn’t really a good time.”
“I have news about Marshall,” He informed, wondering what was so important that it took away from Fionna’s attention. Something to do with her stupid boyfriend, probably.
“Look, you’re going to have to look into it yourself,” Cake informed, sounding flustered. Somewhere beyond her, the Prince could hear Fionna cry out something about needing chocolate and how painful her cramps were. With a heavy sigh, the feline breathed, “It’s just not happening right now.”
Gasping as he was hung up on rather unceremoniously, the pink-haired man glanced down at his phone with his mouth open. “…Honestly!” Darn women and their monthly issues!
Tempted to simply return to his research, Bubba gave a heavy sigh. He knew that if something happened to Marshall and he’d ignored it, Fionna would take her current mood and multiply it but an unnamable number. For some strange reason she was fond of the lazy fool and he knew he needed to look for him.
With an annoyed noise, the candy Prince cleaned himself off and changed into more suitable clothing, before exiting to his balcony and calling for his faithful friend, Lord Monochromicorn, (usually just called Mo-Chro).
It was a short trip to Tree Trunk’s house. From there, he asked his companion to fly low, but it was nearly impossible to peer into the forest, the tree tops too thick. With a frustrated sigh, Bubba asked the stallion to land and slipped from his back.
It was probably best to enter from the place that the snarky King had, though it was nearly impossible to tell which section he’d gone into without asking Tree Trunks. Deciding to take the chance of failure rather than listen to several minutes of rambling (as he couldn’t exactly hang up on and in-person conversation), the candy-haired man entered the line of trees.
Honestly, who did Marshall think he was? Knowing him, he’d probably been hiding out in here on purpose, waiting to see if someone would come and find him. The idea of him missing in the woods was a preposterous one and Bubba was about ready to turn around and give up when he spotted it.
A display of apples appeared to be spilled all around a still form, red flannel shirt and black skinny jeans giving away just who it was instantly. His heart jumping into his throat, Bubba sprang forward, stumbling to his knees and shoving his way around the ring of fruit that surrounded the other man.
Pink sugar arms reached out and lifted the vampire’s head, cradling him against his chest. Instantly, his gut twisted as he saw the other’s pale face, an even lighter shade of grey-blue then it should have been. His normally warm skin (due to his demon blood) was icy and his breathing was labored.
“Marshall?” Bubba called, giving him a gentle shake. If Tree Trunks had seen him three days ago… had he been out in the woods this entire time? Was he unconscious for the duration, just lying there in the dirt? “Marshall, wake up… please!”
A small, meek noise left the Vampire and the Prince felt his stomach twist a second time. With his youthful face wiped free of that snarky smirk, Marshall Lee looked like a child, soft features smudged with grime.
Deciding not to linger on it any longer, the Prince shrugged off his jacket and covered the other man as best he could, before scooping up his practically weightless form and carrying him to the edge of the forest.
Mo-Chro stamped out a message of concern as his friend climbed onto his back, cradling the Vampire King against himself, trying to shield him from the sunlight as much as possible.
The trip back to his palace seemed to take an achingly long time and he clung to the man against his chest, listening to his labored breath with a tight stomach. As another small groan left the pale form, he nearly choked, lowering his face even closer to the other’s to assure himself the older man was still breathing.
As soon as his steed landed, Bubba was climbing from his back and rushing the still Vampire King inside, laying him out on his bed. From there he turned, intent on calling for a doctor, only to stop suddenly as the dark-haired man let out a loud gasp of pain, fingers reaching up to grasp at his chest, above his heart.
“Marshall!?” The Prince cried, turning back toward the other and grasping his shoulders. To his surprise, the older man’s pain stopped almost instantly, his unconscious body relaxing. One more attempt proved a repeat situation – pulling away, even an inch, caused the Vampire to shriek in pain – and his skin against the other’s was the only thing that seemed to ease it.
Swallowing, the sugar-skinned man let his shoulders fall. He couldn’t begin to imagine what was going on, but it seemed that somehow Marshall had been cursed… for some reason he needed the touch of someone else, or he’d feel extreme agony.
With a heavy sigh, Bubba scooped the other into his arms and took a seat on the bed. Carefully slipping out of his shoes he sat back, resting the Vampire King against his chest. He couldn’t, in good faith, just walk away and let the shorter man scream. Unlike the dark-haired king he actually had a heart and despite the fact that he thought the younger looking man was a waste of space, even he didn’t deserve that.
And so, leaning back against his headboard, the bubblegum-haired man decided to just relax and wait it out. He doubted that Marshall could sleep much longer and if he did, he’d just haul him toward Fionna’s to see if she had any ideas.
Because if anyone could figure out something like this, it was the blonde-haired adventuress.
The suddenness in which Marshall Lee awoke made Bubba jump, violet eyes snapping down to the older man’s alarmed form. He’d been deep in thought, trying desperately to come up with any sort of solution to the situation at hand. He would have to keep at the other’s side at all times, so figuring out what kind of spell could have put them in their current predicament was going to be very difficult.
Blue eyes glanced around in alarm, before finally resting on him. Seeming appalled, the Vampire jerked away, letting out a hiss of surprise.
“Marshall, wait-!” The Prince cried as his opposite stumbled out of the bed, breaking their contact.
Almost instantaneously, the dark-haired form let out a loud shriek of pain, reaching up to grasp his chest as if in intense agony. As quickly as he could, the younger sprang forward, pulling the other against him.
Body tense, but no longer shaking, Marshall attempted to gather his breath for a moment before he wheezed, “…What the beef was that?”
“As unpleasant as this is going to seem,” Bubba breathed, a sour look crossing his features at the very sound of the other’s voice. “It appears somehow you’ve caught something. And now, for some glob-sent reason… you have to constantly be touching someone or risk your heart racing in pain.”
“…You’re not joking, are you?” Came the small response, so meek that the Prince found himself surprised. Could words that soft really come out of such an uncivilized person? When he earned no response, the King let out a strained sigh. “…Oh grod, this is really happening, isn’t it?”
“As if I would choose touch you, even in jest, Marshall Lee,” The younger man scoffed, unable to resist the urge to roll his eyes. The only answer he received was a small noise of distain. “Now that you’re awake we can visit Fionna to see if she has any idea how to fix this.”
“What, do you think Fi is your magical fixing machine?” The dark-haired man asked in distaste as his opposite pulled away, grasping his hand in a tight hold. “She doesn’t know everything.”
With an annoyed glance, Bubba glared down at the shorter man. “But she certainly knows more then you.”
With a mutter of, I doubt it, Marshall hovered after him as the Prince slipped his shoes back on and started for the door, their hands clenched tightly. “Wait!” He cried suddenly, ceasing their movement with a strong tug that nearly pulled the younger off his feet, earning a glare. A sour expression crossed his pasty face before he snapped, “What? I’m trying to help you out!”
“By keeping me here with you?” Came the sneered response.
Scoffing, the older roughly shoved the pink-haired man’s hand away, only to wince and quickly grab it again, cursing under his breath. “No, you snob,” He snapped. “By making your huge head stop and think for a minute.” Violet eyes narrowed, but he didn’t give the younger man time to speak. “What are your subjects going to think if they see us walking through the halls, holding hands?”
A solemn look crossed Bubba’s face as he realized that, for once, the snarky King was right. No doubt his subjects would think it odd and rumors would spread all around the Kingdom – and possibly beyond – like wildfire.
“What do you purpose we do, then?” He inquired, trying his best not to spit out the words like a bad taste. It apparently didn’t work, however, as blue eyes glared at him in response.
“Either you call that globbing eel to pick us up,” Marshall stated, – instantly ignoring the cries of, he’s not an eel, he’s a horse! – before tossing his hair from his face with his free hand. “Or I carry you out of here. Your choice.”
Well, this was between a rock and a hard place, the Prince was certain of it. On one hand, Mo-Chro would no doubt ask questions and he didn’t really have many ways to answer them, but on the other hand Marshall wasn’t exactly discreet with his giant bat form.
A thought occurred to him, then, and he spared a glance out the window. A frown crossed his lips. “It’s not really a choice, is it?” He ignored the raised black eyebrow on the other’s features. “You can’t fly in the sunlight.”
“What?” Seeming dumbstruck for a moment, the vampire turned his gaze toward the window. “Oh. Well, I’ve done it once for you already, so…”
Instantly, Bubba’s cheeks flushed and a sour look crossed his features. Oh, honestly-! They promised to never talk about the flan or the whole fiasco with Flame Prince. Not that the older was known for keeping promises. Trying to change the subject, the candy man tugged his opposite toward the closet, pulling him inside.
“What in Gob’s name are you doing?” Marshall asked as the younger man began to shift through some clothes one-handed. He frowned in annoyance as he was ignored, reaching out to poke at the back of the other’s neck. When that didn’t work, he tried a few more times, before speeding up and rapidly continuing. “Pay attention to me! I’m still here, you know!”
“Oh, trust me, I know,” came the irritated response. Before the dark-haired man could answer, his companion plucked something out of the row of clothes and held it up, nodding. With one graceful motion, he pushed it into the other’s arms. “Put this on.”
Seeming surprised, the vampire glanced down at the wine-colored sweatshirt in his arms. “What?”
“Put it on,” Bubba repeated, almost coldly. As blue eyes stared at him blankly, he gave an extravagant sigh and rolled his own. “How else are you supposed to go out in the sun, you dolt?”
“Uh… an umbrella?” Came the snarky response as Marshall gave an annoyed look toward the shirt, which looked massive against his small frame, making the Prince feel a bit of pride. “Or do you not have those? Oh, right, you call them parasols, right? Because you’re fancy.”
Resisting the urge to scoff and tell the other man how immature he was, the younger straightened up his body and held his head high. “And what do you think would happen to a parasol if you were to ride on Mo-Chro?” He allowed himself to feel victorious at the blank look that crossed the other man’s face. “That’s right. The wind would cause it to fold inside-out. So stop being so frustrating and just put on the shirt.”
The Vampire curled back his upper lip for a moment, revealing his long fangs. After realizing his defeat, however, he allowed the taller man to rest a hand on his hip (noting that the touch worked to stop the pain, even though his clothes) and shrugged the massive shirt over his arms, before doing up the coat, making note of the cupcake charm on the zipper.
“…Are you serious?” Marshall asked as the sweatshirt slid off one shoulder. He’d never before realized how much broader and taller the Prince was in compared to him and truth be told it left him feeling a little dismayed, a frown on his pale features.
“If any of your suggestions are as good as your umbrella one, then we’ll never get out of here,” Bubba responded, reaching up with his free hand to pull the hood over the other’s head. He then tightened the strings to pull it further over the dark-haired man’s face. “Try to keep your hands in the sleeves.”
“Oh, that won’t be a problem,” The Vampire huffed as his companion grabbed his upper arm and dragged him toward the balcony. The sleeves dangled over his hands as if the shirt were meant for a giant, the bottom of it dangling halfway down his thighs.
With a frustrated groan, the shorter man allowed himself to be pulled into the sun, keeping his head down to block out the sunlight. Bubba wasn’t being the least bit patient, calling upon Mo-Chro and climbing onto his back without even a second to spare, barely remembering to hold onto Marshall as he dragged the older up by one arm and plopped him down behind him.