“I’m just the guy who spies on people. No big D,” Prince Gumball mumbled to himself. Once inside his room full of hidden camera monitors, he leaned against the door behind him and sighed. Why was Flame Prince—er, Phyfe—making such a big deal out of it, anyway? It was totally natural for him to take precautionary measures against his neighbouring kingdoms to ensure the safety of his own realm. The Candy People depended on him. He was a good prince, dangit! He was just looking out for his peeps.
So why did he feel like such a...a creep? Phyfe was so young and new to ruling a kingdom, yet somehow he managed to unify his subjects who were rooted in evil to imprison their former ruler and adopt a new life of...what was the word Phyfe had used? “Honesty”? And yet here he was, Prince Gumball, unable to so much as maintain a decent Banana Guard. He was a sham and Phyfe knew it. He was probably just waiting for Gumball to waver so he could swoop in and pillage the Candy Kingdom. Gumball pursed his lips.
“Well hooey to that!”
Pushing off the door, he walked over to his monitors and began disconnecting all the wires. He’d show that Flame Prince. He didn’t need surveillance cameras to protect his kingdom! The Gumball Guardians were still a formidable first line of defense and the Banana Guards could hold their own in a pinch. Prince Gumball disconnected almost every camera, glancing up to find the last one that remained online in the lower left corner. He hesitated to disconnect the wire, eyes lingering on the screen. This one was planted in Marshall Lee’s house. Gumball swallowed as he saw the vampyre come onto the screen.
Slumping into his chair, the Candy Prince rested his elbows on the table in front of him. He sighed, eyes half-lidded as he silently watched Marshall float about the room in his house, draining the red colour from an apple. Gumball had always wondered if Marshall’s vampyrism caused him to consume the physical properties of an object that reflected the red wavelengths of light, or if he somehow consumed the light itself. The latter seemed far less probable, but then again, vampyrism in and of itself was a conundrum. Gumball would never admit it, but he’d always been fascinated to learned more about Marshall’s halfling status. There was so much he didn’t know and that he wanted to learn, but glob Marshall could be so infuriating! He didn’t even have to try to press Gumball’s buttons whenever they were around each other. He had it down to a science and made an art out of it. Gumball huffed just thinking about it.
On the screen, Marshall had been occupying himself with his guitar while Gumball was lost in thought. When he discarded his bass and lazily floated onto the couch, though, Gumball turned up the volume a little. It was rare to see the Vampyre King look so aimless in his own home. Gumball squinted as Marshall glanced over his shoulder to look out the window behind the couch. Very suspicious. When he turned back around, however, he dug his hand between the couch cushions, pulling out a slip of paper. Gumball gasped when he saw the other side.
That was a picture of him! Why on earth would Marshall keep something like that in his—oh. Oh. ...Oh?
His eyes grew wider as Marshall unzipped his jeans with one hand, his own daemonic eyes never leaving the picture. Gumball’s throat went dry as he watched Marshall pull his semi-erect cock from between the flaps of his red boxer-briefs. He couldn’t tear away his eyes from the way the vampyre’s hand slowly stroked it to hardness, the reddened tip swelling beneath his thumb as he teased his slit. The sight was almost dreamlike to witness, so used was he to seeing only weapons and victims of his colourlust gripped in those tanned hands. Not that his dick couldn’t be considered a weapon because really, wow, but—but that was besides the point! Gumball shouldn’t be watching this, he knew better than that, and yet...he couldn’t bring himself to look away.
“Damn, Bubba. When are you gonna stop sendin’ me so many mixed signals?” Marshall asked aloud. Gumball furrowed his brows. Mixed signals? He wasn’t aware he was sending any signals. Just what was that man on about? “It’s like...you don’t even notice...what you do to me…” Marshall trailed off with a pleasured sigh as he pumped his shaft faster. He held the photo over his lap, indecently close to his swollen length, eyes glued to Gumball’s likeness as he fucked his own hand.
Gumball caught his lips between his teeth, warring with himself over his next course of action. Morally speaking, he should just turn off the monitor and forget this ever happened. This was an obscene breach of Marshall’s privacy, far beyond just keeping tabs on him. Was he going to do that, though? Obviously not. How could he when Marshall was all but putting himself on display and he clearly had some kind of feelings for Gumball, so...would it really be so bad if he...just…
His hand was already in his pants, palming at his growing erection over his boxers. Pursing his lips, the prince whimpered as he silenced his morality in favour of pulling out his cock and wrapping his fingers around it. He matched Marshall’s rhythm on the screen, lips parting as he panted lightly. At this rate, he would reach his peak within mere moments, but Marshall didn’t look nearly as lost to the throes of pleasure. He certainly looked pleased, but he was calm, his hand moving smoothly whereas Gumball’s trembled with need. He wasn’t sure why, but Marshall looked so very desirable right now. He’d silently regarded the vampyre as attractive before, but until this point, he had never experienced such a burning desire to have those cool hands all over his body. His own hand was sticky with sugary sweat, only serving to remind him how very alone he was at this moment. How much of a creep he was for doing this. But he didn’t stop. Gob, no, he didn’t stop.
Fire spread through his veins as he neared completion, toes curling as he watched Marshall’s hand work his cock so expertly. He was helpless not to wonder what those hands would feel like on his own dick, sliding along his thighs, slipping between his legs— He shuddered at this last, toes curling as he squeezed his eyes shut and came with a muffled groan. Taking a few seconds to regain himself, he cracked open an eye to watch the screen again. Marshall was close, as well, hand a blur on his cock. He doubled forward suddenly, a hiss escaping through his teeth as he shot his load all over his pants and the picture in front of him. Gumball couldn’t help but be a little offended, but he couldn’t really hold it against Marshall.
Sighing, he glanced down at himself, crying out as he saw the mess he’d made of himself. Oh well. It looked like he was making cake tonight.