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Description
Panting quietly, Guzma leaned against a palm tree on the sandy beach of Hau‘oli, trying not to make any more noise. It had been so close this time. His father had almost caught him. Guzma could only imagine in what state he’d be in by now if he had gotten to meet his newest golf club. Just imagining the painful spots all over his body made him feel sick. How much he hated his father… he couldn’t describe the burning flames of despair inside him, convincing him to try and make him proud over and over again – without success.

The crushing of the waves in the distance, combined with the quiet voices of various bug Pokémon haunting the summer night, soon managed to calm Guzma down again. There was not a sign of his father looking for him anymore, and he quickly decided it was better not to go home. His mum would probably worry about him, but he honestly would rather have her worried for one night than getting beaten to halfdead (if he could beat him dead, he would at least be free). But where else should he go? He could ask his friend Kukui to let him stay over. Hopefully, his parents would allow him to.

Slowly, the teen made his way to Kukui’s house, careful not to trip over any rocks. It was already pretty dark, he could barely see where he was going, but he could make out the light coming from the windows. At least he didn’t have to wake anybody. Grunting to himself, he knocked on the wooden door carefully. What would he say? Excuse me, can I stay over tonight, my dad’s gonna kill me when I get home?

Nobody answered. Guzma tried to knock again, much louder this time. For a second he grew desperate and anxious, then a female voice responded from inside, calling „Coming!“, and the boy was relieved to hear how friendly and calm it sounded. Soon, Kukui’s mother opened the door for him, and she was visibly surprised to see Guzma out there in the dark.

“Sorry”, he said in a stiff voice. For some reason, he had trouble holding back his tears.

“Can I stay for tonight?”

“Why, all of a sudden?”, she wondered and observed him carefully. Though he felt uncomfortable, he tried to look her in the face while he spoke.

“I don’t want to go home”, he answered truthfully. The woman caught a glimpse of various, slightly green-brownish spots on his belly, when he adjusted the glasses on his head and his shirt lifted slightly as he moved. She immediately knew very well why he wanted to avoid his parents.

“I think I’ll have to talk to your parents, though.”

“No!”, Guzma shouted, but he tried to quiet himself down. He didn’t want to let her see how anxious he was about being sent home.

“No, please. It’s alright.”

“Let me at least tell your mum that you’re here.”

Guzma wasn’t sure if it was right for her to know where he was, because she’d most likely tell his father about it. If the bad luck was on his side tonight after all, he’d show up here and drag him home by his hair. The woman watched the look on his face and sighed deeply.

“I’ll make sure you can stay, alright?”

“Please… and thank you.”

“Hey, Guzma.”

The teen looked behind the tall woman, only to see his friend Kukui in pajamas and Rockruff-Slippers. If he’d been in a better mood, he’d laughed at him for still being such a baby, but at the moment he could only force a tiny smile out of himself.

“Kukui.”

“Why are you here? Is everything alright?”

“Guzma will spend the night with us”, Kukui’s mother answered. Just hearing that made the teen’s heartrate finally slow down a little bit. He was safe, at least for a few hours. Maybe he could also kill some time by sleeping in long.

“Do you have some room to spare, Kukui? Or shall I prepare the couch?”

“I think I can spare some room for my boy”, Kukui grinned. For some odd reason, Guzma felt the blood rush into his cheeks as his friend said that. He often referred to himself in front of him as ‘his boy’, but when Kukui said it, it suddenly felt kind of different and oddly embarrassing.

“I’ll prepare you some sheets then”, the mother smiled and went upstairs. Guzma sure was happy Kukui’s parents were such nice people. His mum cooked very delicious meals and made the best cocoa in the world. She was a great listener and always had time to spare when he told her about his problems. His dad also was a very nice guy, but sadly they didn’t meet very often. It was almost like a little holiday when he could stay for a while.

“Why don’t you go home?”, Kukui asked while walking up the stairs. Guzma didn’t want to say he was scared, but he also didn’t want to lie to his friend.

“I just don’t wanna.”

“You can do whatever you feel like, huh Guzma? Your parents sure give you a lot of freedom.”

Guzma blushed yet again, but this time it was anger building up inside him. He wasn’t free to leave, he had to flee in order to save his ass from being whooped until the point he couldn’t sit anymore. He wanted to be able to pee without a catheter tomorrow. He didn’t want his eyes forced shut by being black and blue. He was scared of the golf clubs and the trophies he had won, scared of feeling the cold metal slap against his skin and shatter his nose. He was scared of having his hair ripped out. He was scared of being dragged by his arm until it broke, scared of empty cups and plates sent flying after him and downright terrified of his father’s eyes.

When those eyes looked at his sister, they were beautiful. They were grey and sparkling, his voice was soft and friendly. He laughed and smiled, way more than he did around him.

“My lovely girl”, he’d often say.

“My lovely girl I’m so proud of.”

When those eyes looked at him, they were nowhere near beautiful. They looked like raven’s eyes, a volcano spitting fire and drowning an entire city in smoke.

“Well well, it’s Guzma.”

That small sigh he let out whenever he mentioned his name, slowly destroying the teen’s hopes of ever hearing something nice out of that mouth.

“Guzma, what is wrong with you!? Answer me already! And don’t you start crying, I swear, I’m going to kill you if you do!”

Every punch he’d received to his stomach as soon as he had made a small noise of discomfort or pain had summed up to a massive, never ending belly ache. As soon as he thought about anything that made him uncomfortable or scared for too long, his intestines were agitated and upset, causing him indigestion and stomach cramps.

“You have no idea”, Guzma replied coldly after pushing all these thoughts far away. Kukui reacted to the sound in his voice, which made him feel very uncomfortable. He must have said something wrong. But how and why? Kukui felt like being able to go out whenever and wherever he wanted was a lot of freedom, and sometimes he was jealous of how much his friend could go out. Nobody ever called him to come home and do chores. In fact, Kukui had never met his parents before, and he now wondered why Guzma had never cared to introduce them to his best friend.

“I hope you don’t mind sleeping next to each other”, Kukui’s mother said as she left the room after finishing the sheets. The boys shook their hands and thanked her before she went to bed herself. She knew Guzma would get himself food and drink whenever he wanted, and she honestly thought it was good this way. She didn’t want to ask him every few minutes if he wanted anything.

The brunet prepared his own bed, humming quietly, and Guzma stood at the door, the thoughts overwhelming him, no matter how hard he fought them down. Very often, he fantasized about how his father would treat him if he were like his sister. If he were good golf player, someone who shows a lot of interest and always keeps a big, bright smile, naturally beautiful and blessed with healthy optimism, enthusiasm and self-confidence, maybe then his father could love him. Maybe then he’d sit on the side of his bed and stroke his cheek for once instead of slapping it. Maybe he’d play with his hair instead of ripping it out. Maybe he’d give him a kiss on the forehead, even. When Guzma cried, he wouldn’t yell at him to kill him if he kept it up, instead he’d wipe the tears away and give him a hug. When Guzma was in pain, he wouldn’t punch his belly, he’d try to make him feel better. Guzma fantasized about his father apologizing to him in tears, desperately trying to convince him how he didn’t mean to hurt him and it was all just because of some curse or something. Maybe his chronic indigestion would finally become better again, because his father would give him occasional stomach massages as an apology.

“My dear son”, he’d say.

“My dear son I’m so proud of.”

Without him realizing it, burning hot, thick tears had started streaming down Guzma’s face. He was barely able to breathe, his throat was blocked by the water gathering in his eyes, and every attempt to inhale resulted in a helpless, childlike whimper. Kukui reacted to the odd noises his buddy made, and he widened his eyes as he saw Guzma trying to wipe the salty water away with his jacket.

“What’s wrong?”, he asked worriedly and came closer to him, unsure how to act. He had never seen him cry before. Usually, Guzma was a jokester who enjoyed himself with all kinds of stupid ideas. The thing he knew best about him was his villainous laugh whenever one of his dumb plans succeeded.

Guzma tried to stop the flowing of his tears, but no matter how often he wiped them off his face, more and more water gathered anew and began dripping down his chin, onto his shirt. His cheeks were completely red and streams of salt slowly grew visible.

“I’m so tired”, was all Kukui could make out of his words. It sounded like he was trying to tell him much more, about how happy he was to be here and not at home, how happy he was about Kukui’s father not playing golf and no trophies being in his room, but the brunet only heard his voice cracking as he fought against himself and his own weakness. Instead of asking him to repeat it all, the boy gently wrapped his arms around the taller male and hugged him tightly. He didn’t know how to feel, having Guzma sob into his shoulder uncontrollably while getting his back rubbed.

“You’re hurting me!”, he suddenly yelled between his cries and snorts, and Kukui quickly pulled back from the hug.

“I’m not doing anything”, Kukui replied with a shocked look on his face. But when Guzma lifted his shirt to wipe his face with it once and for all, he noticed the same spots his mother had noticed before. The dark circles surrounding his belly button, reminding him of human knuckles pushing themselves into his flesh rapidly and powerfully.

“Buddy…”, Kukui whispered. Very slowly, Guzma began to stop. His heart was racing, his nose was blocked, and occasional sobs still escaped from his throat.

“Buddy, who’s done that to you?”

“Done what?”, Guzma asked firmly, and his gaze froze as he realized he had accidently lifted his shirt without thinking first. He had shown Kukui the results from the last time he had cried without wanting to. The boys were completely silent for a few moments, and Kukui shook his head in disbelief a few times.

“No… I just… no… That just can’t be true…”

“You see it’s true”, Guzma hissed. He was confused and frightened, and all he could hope for was for Kukui to forget about it or ignore it. It would be the worst if his only friend left him behind now that he knew about it.

“Guzma… is your dad behind this?”

The male didn’t respond to the question and only crossed his arms, signing Kukui that he didn’t want to talk about it. It was no use, it wouldn’t change a thing. When he got home tomorrow, he’d still have to say Hello to his father’s newest golf club. He’d have to watch that beautiful face of his sister smirking at his misery, wishing he’d just be gone.

“Is this why you came here?”

“You take forever to notice things, ya know.”

Kukui bit his lower lip. He had to admit that was true. He hadn’t noticed that his friend was getting abused at home until now.

“Can I help you somehow?”

“Just… be nice to me.”

Guzma’s voice broke once again, and tears shot out of his eyes, quickly running down to his neck. Kukui was so overwhelmed by how sorry and guilty he felt that he couldn’t help but pull Guzma onto his bed with him.

“I’m so sorry”, he whispered, rubbing his back gently, careful not to hurt him this time. Though Guzma flinched a little, he returned the hug tightly, and Kukui felt the hot, salty water run down his own neck.

The white haired teen enjoyed every single second of the hug, wishing to never have to let go again. Softly, Kukui placed a kiss on his forehead, meaning to calm him down a little, but it only caused Guzma to sob even louder.

“I love you”, he bursted out, and Kukui felt his heart skip a beat when he heard that.

“I… I love you too, Guz”, he replied quietly, carefully stroking his hair with his other hand. He noticed a few spots without hair and tiny wounds, and he just wished to punch himself for not seeing them earlier. The teen’s crying seemingly came to no end, especially after Kukui saying he loved him, and the brunet gently lifted his gaze by touching his chin.

“I mean it”, he whispered.

“I really love you.”

“That’s a lie”, Guzma sniffled while Kukui wiped his tears away with his thumbs.

“I’m bad, I suck. Nobody can love me.”

“Don’t say that”, Kukui answered calmly, giving him a warm smile.

“I can love you. And I’m glad I can.”

“I’m always giving you a hard time”, Guzma whimpered.

“I always copy your stuff, I never listen to you, I entertain myself by pissing you off!”

“That’s fine”, Kukui said and gently pushed him down to the bed to lie down.

“I wouldn’t stay your friend if I didn’t like it, would I?”

Guzma nodded slowly, not wanting to get on his nerves much more by insisting how horrible he was. He cupped his hands over his face in shame.

“Guzma, what is wrong with you…”

“Many things”, Kukui sighed.

“But you’re my boy after all, aren’t you?”

Guzma’s heart skipped a beat and he again felt his cheeks turn bright red. Why did it feel so odd to hear him say that?

“Yeah… I’m your boy, Guzma.”

Kukui giggled and patted his shoulder.

“Yeah, my boy I’m proud of.”

The look Guzma suddenly gave him… Kukui couldn’t help but raise his eyebrow at it. He looked like he enjoyed it when he talked to him this way. Probably because his situation at home, at least that was the only explanation Kukui had for this. He didn’t mind, in fact, he was happy to help him at least a little. Maybe he should…

“My… my boy.”

“Hm…”

Telling by how soft his facial expression grew while hearing that and shutting his eyes, Kukui was sure of it now. He’d had a small feeling that Guzma showed signs of a daddy complex, but now he was absolutely certain it was true. Was it alright to even call him ‘his boy’? As long as he enjoyed it, it was alright, or not…?

“Who’s my boy?”, Kukui asked quietly as he lied down next to him, facing him. Guzma opened his eyes again and gave him a look of both comfort and confusion.

“I am your boy…?”

“That’s right”, Kukui smiled.

“And that makes me your…?”

“… Friend?”

“No”, Kukui chuckled.

“That makes me your daddy, numbskull.”

Guzma blushed intensively, and Kukui wanted to laugh at his face desperately, but he kept it down, for his sake.

Was Kukui trying to make fun of him? Or was he trying to have fun with him? Did he maybe find a spot on him that Guzma hadn’t seen before?

“My daddy…”, he repeated. The thought of having a father with a personality like Kukui’s was very pleasant. Someone who was always up to help, cheer on him, build him up, encourage him. Kukui was the kind of daddy Guzma wished for. With that in mind, he chuckled to himself.

“That’s embarrassing and stupid.”

“I don’t think it is”, Kukui admitted.

“I think it’s kinda cool. Let’s pretend I’m your daddy just for a while. It’s like playing house.”

“Dude, we’re too old to play house.”

“But too young to let our inner child die.”

Guzma sighed deeply. Maybe it would keep his mind off his home for a while to attempt to play house with his best friend.

“So… You’re my daddy… and I’m your boy.”

Just saying that made him feel an odd, tingling sensation creep down his back. Kukui didn’t want to admit it, but he felt it as well. It was embarrassing and weird, but somehow enjoyable.

“What are we going to do then… daddy?”

Kukui didn’t want to get too close to him, but he carefully pulled up Guzma’s shirt to his chest. Quickly, the white haired teen began to squirm underneath him.

“Hey, don’t do that!”

“Don’t talk to your daddy like that”, Kukui said firmly.

“If you don’t like what I’m doing, there’s other ways for you to say it.”

Guzma bit his lower lip desperately. He couldn’t think of anything fast enough to prevent him from seeing the dark circles and spots around his belly button.

“Please, daddy, don’t do that, I don’t want you to see that.”

“Don’t want me to see… what? Are you hiding something, my boy?”

While Kukui grew to like this kind of roleplay, Guzma only got redder and redder. For some reason, he could see his father talking to him, and he felt tears rush into his eyes yet again.

“No… I’m not…”

“Why are you lying? You know you don’t need to lie to me. I’m not going to get angry.”

After a short pause, Kukui continued.

“No matter what it is, I will still love you the same.”

Guzma began to sob again, and it took him a while to catch his breath and answer.

“The spots… I don’t want you to see them, daddy…”

“Why not? Are you ashamed?”

“No… I don’t want you to think I’m weak…”

Kukui carefully dared to put his hand on his belly, and Guzma flinched for a second, expecting to be punched deep inside. But when he opened his eyes and saw the dark brown color of Kukui’s eyes, friendly, warm and loving, he knew nothing was going to happen. He was his daddy now. A much better, much more caring daddy.

“You’re not weak, not at all”, Kukui declared softly.

“You’re very strong. I’m really, really proud of you, my boy.”

“Thank you, daddy…”

Kukui couldn’t help but notice just how stiff his voice sounded, so he slowly began to rub his belly. Guzma gasped for air and leaned back a little.

“Daddy, don’t…”

“Why not?”

“My stomach is so upset, it hurts so much…”

Kukui was surprised to hear that, but he soon felt the constant, quiet yet angry grumbling underneath his fingers himself.

“Do you want daddy to make you feel better…?”

Guzma nodded quickly, his eyes shut tightly. Slowly, Kukui massaged his belly in circles, careful to avoid the sensitive dark spots and not to push too hard. It was almost like he could feel the cramps loosening in his intestines, resulting in relieving sounding groans. Guzma moaned along quietly, an for some odd reason, the sensation Kukui had felt earlier grew stronger.

“Is this alright, my boy?”

“Yes daddy… that feels good…”

Growling, gurgling and bubbling erupted from Guzma’s belly, as Kukui kept massaging it lovingly. The teen had lied down on his back by now, almost pushing his belly and hips against the warmth, and the brunet couldn’t help but notice the bulge in Guzma’s lose pants. Wondering if it was time to stop, he wanted to pull the shirt back down, but the white haired teen pushed his hands onto his belly. Kukui felt the warmth of his skin wander into his own fingers, and blushed a little.

“Guzma…”

“Mhh…”

“I think we’re overdoing it a little…”

“No… please don’t stop… that feels so good…”

Kukui nodded slowly and continued to massage his friend’s belly in circles, this time with Guzma massaging along with him. The moans the white haired teen occasionally let out made Kukui blush furiously, and the sensation began to wander from his back to his front side. He didn’t only feel it in his stomach, but down in his pants as well, and Kukui knew very well in what it was going to turn pretty soon.

Guzma slid his hands up to Kukui’s bare chest and slowly drew circles across his chest and belly as well. The brunet was surprised about how good it felt, even without an upset belly, and he couldn’t help but grunt and gasp.

“Damn…”, he hissed as he watched the bulge in Guzma’s pants grow bigger. His own penis started getting curious of the situation as well, and just watching his friend slowly get erected kind of turned him on as well.

Guzma had completely forgotten about pride and holding himself back. He knew how much he truly loved his friend, and right now it didn’t matter to him if he returned that love or not. Kukui’s grunting as he let his hands wander across his upper body caused him a massive turn on, and all he wanted was to see the bulge in his pants grow as well. He had already noticed that Kukui reacted to his touch, but he yet had to find the right way to get it done perfectly.

“Fuck, Guzma, I’m…”

“Me too”, the teen hissed as he noticed just how good the fact that Kukui’s hands were so close to his privates felt.

“If you massage me any more, I’m gonna cum in my pants.”

**Censored**

Panting quietly, Kukui looked Guzma in the eyes. The moonlight coming from his window reflected in them, and even though they still were quite wet, Guzma looked deeply satisfied.

“How did daddy do? Is his boy satisfied?”

Guzma nodded slowly and chuckled.

“I hope your boy satisfied you as well.”

Kukui grinned at him. He had to admit he was really satisfied. Maybe even for an entire week.

“Dude… what are we?”

“Partners in crime”, Guzma replied and shut his eyes, signing Kukui to shut the hell up and go to sleep. Gladly, he took the option and lied down next to him.

Description
Panting quietly, Guzma leaned against a palm tree on the sandy beach of Hau‘oli, trying not to make any more noise. It had been so close this time. His father had almost caught him. Guzma could only imagine in what state he’d be in by now if he had gotten to meet his newest golf club. Just imagining the painful spots all over his body made him feel sick. How much he hated his father… he couldn’t describe the burning flames of despair inside him, convincing him to try and make him proud over and over again – without success.

The crushing of the waves in the distance, combined with the quiet voices of various bug Pokémon haunting the summer night, soon managed to calm Guzma down again. There was not a sign of his father looking for him anymore, and he quickly decided it was better not to go home. His mum would probably worry about him, but he honestly would rather have her worried for one night than getting beaten to halfdead (if he could beat him dead, he would at least be free). But where else should he go? He could ask his friend Kukui to let him stay over. Hopefully, his parents would allow him to.

Slowly, the teen made his way to Kukui’s house, careful not to trip over any rocks. It was already pretty dark, he could barely see where he was going, but he could make out the light coming from the windows. At least he didn’t have to wake anybody. Grunting to himself, he knocked on the wooden door carefully. What would he say? Excuse me, can I stay over tonight, my dad’s gonna kill me when I get home?

Nobody answered. Guzma tried to knock again, much louder this time. For a second he grew desperate and anxious, then a female voice responded from inside, calling „Coming!“, and the boy was relieved to hear how friendly and calm it sounded. Soon, Kukui’s mother opened the door for him, and she was visibly surprised to see Guzma out there in the dark.

“Sorry”, he said in a stiff voice. For some reason, he had trouble holding back his tears.

“Can I stay for tonight?”

“Why, all of a sudden?”, she wondered and observed him carefully. Though he felt uncomfortable, he tried to look her in the face while he spoke.

“I don’t want to go home”, he answered truthfully. The woman caught a glimpse of various, slightly green-brownish spots on his belly, when he adjusted the glasses on his head and his shirt lifted slightly as he moved. She immediately knew very well why he wanted to avoid his parents.

“I think I’ll have to talk to your parents, though.”

“No!”, Guzma shouted, but he tried to quiet himself down. He didn’t want to let her see how anxious he was about being sent home.

“No, please. It’s alright.”

“Let me at least tell your mum that you’re here.”

Guzma wasn’t sure if it was right for her to know where he was, because she’d most likely tell his father about it. If the bad luck was on his side tonight after all, he’d show up here and drag him home by his hair. The woman watched the look on his face and sighed deeply.

“I’ll make sure you can stay, alright?”

“Please… and thank you.”

“Hey, Guzma.”

The teen looked behind the tall woman, only to see his friend Kukui in pajamas and Rockruff-Slippers. If he’d been in a better mood, he’d laughed at him for still being such a baby, but at the moment he could only force a tiny smile out of himself.

“Kukui.”

“Why are you here? Is everything alright?”

“Guzma will spend the night with us”, Kukui’s mother answered. Just hearing that made the teen’s heartrate finally slow down a little bit. He was safe, at least for a few hours. Maybe he could also kill some time by sleeping in long.

“Do you have some room to spare, Kukui? Or shall I prepare the couch?”

“I think I can spare some room for my boy”, Kukui grinned. For some odd reason, Guzma felt the blood rush into his cheeks as his friend said that. He often referred to himself in front of him as ‘his boy’, but when Kukui said it, it suddenly felt kind of different and oddly embarrassing.

“I’ll prepare you some sheets then”, the mother smiled and went upstairs. Guzma sure was happy Kukui’s parents were such nice people. His mum cooked very delicious meals and made the best cocoa in the world. She was a great listener and always had time to spare when he told her about his problems. His dad also was a very nice guy, but sadly they didn’t meet very often. It was almost like a little holiday when he could stay for a while.

“Why don’t you go home?”, Kukui asked while walking up the stairs. Guzma didn’t want to say he was scared, but he also didn’t want to lie to his friend.

“I just don’t wanna.”

“You can do whatever you feel like, huh Guzma? Your parents sure give you a lot of freedom.”

Guzma blushed yet again, but this time it was anger building up inside him. He wasn’t free to leave, he had to flee in order to save his ass from being whooped until the point he couldn’t sit anymore. He wanted to be able to pee without a catheter tomorrow. He didn’t want his eyes forced shut by being black and blue. He was scared of the golf clubs and the trophies he had won, scared of feeling the cold metal slap against his skin and shatter his nose. He was scared of having his hair ripped out. He was scared of being dragged by his arm until it broke, scared of empty cups and plates sent flying after him and downright terrified of his father’s eyes.

When those eyes looked at his sister, they were beautiful. They were grey and sparkling, his voice was soft and friendly. He laughed and smiled, way more than he did around him.

“My lovely girl”, he’d often say.

“My lovely girl I’m so proud of.”

When those eyes looked at him, they were nowhere near beautiful. They looked like raven’s eyes, a volcano spitting fire and drowning an entire city in smoke.

“Well well, it’s Guzma.”

That small sigh he let out whenever he mentioned his name, slowly destroying the teen’s hopes of ever hearing something nice out of that mouth.

“Guzma, what is wrong with you!? Answer me already! And don’t you start crying, I swear, I’m going to kill you if you do!”

Every punch he’d received to his stomach as soon as he had made a small noise of discomfort or pain had summed up to a massive, never ending belly ache. As soon as he thought about anything that made him uncomfortable or scared for too long, his intestines were agitated and upset, causing him indigestion and stomach cramps.

“You have no idea”, Guzma replied coldly after pushing all these thoughts far away. Kukui reacted to the sound in his voice, which made him feel very uncomfortable. He must have said something wrong. But how and why? Kukui felt like being able to go out whenever and wherever he wanted was a lot of freedom, and sometimes he was jealous of how much his friend could go out. Nobody ever called him to come home and do chores. In fact, Kukui had never met his parents before, and he now wondered why Guzma had never cared to introduce them to his best friend.

“I hope you don’t mind sleeping next to each other”, Kukui’s mother said as she left the room after finishing the sheets. The boys shook their hands and thanked her before she went to bed herself. She knew Guzma would get himself food and drink whenever he wanted, and she honestly thought it was good this way. She didn’t want to ask him every few minutes if he wanted anything.

The brunet prepared his own bed, humming quietly, and Guzma stood at the door, the thoughts overwhelming him, no matter how hard he fought them down. Very often, he fantasized about how his father would treat him if he were like his sister. If he were good golf player, someone who shows a lot of interest and always keeps a big, bright smile, naturally beautiful and blessed with healthy optimism, enthusiasm and self-confidence, maybe then his father could love him. Maybe then he’d sit on the side of his bed and stroke his cheek for once instead of slapping it. Maybe he’d play with his hair instead of ripping it out. Maybe he’d give him a kiss on the forehead, even. When Guzma cried, he wouldn’t yell at him to kill him if he kept it up, instead he’d wipe the tears away and give him a hug. When Guzma was in pain, he wouldn’t punch his belly, he’d try to make him feel better. Guzma fantasized about his father apologizing to him in tears, desperately trying to convince him how he didn’t mean to hurt him and it was all just because of some curse or something. Maybe his chronic indigestion would finally become better again, because his father would give him occasional stomach massages as an apology.

“My dear son”, he’d say.

“My dear son I’m so proud of.”

Without him realizing it, burning hot, thick tears had started streaming down Guzma’s face. He was barely able to breathe, his throat was blocked by the water gathering in his eyes, and every attempt to inhale resulted in a helpless, childlike whimper. Kukui reacted to the odd noises his buddy made, and he widened his eyes as he saw Guzma trying to wipe the salty water away with his jacket.

“What’s wrong?”, he asked worriedly and came closer to him, unsure how to act. He had never seen him cry before. Usually, Guzma was a jokester who enjoyed himself with all kinds of stupid ideas. The thing he knew best about him was his villainous laugh whenever one of his dumb plans succeeded.

Guzma tried to stop the flowing of his tears, but no matter how often he wiped them off his face, more and more water gathered anew and began dripping down his chin, onto his shirt. His cheeks were completely red and streams of salt slowly grew visible.

“I’m so tired”, was all Kukui could make out of his words. It sounded like he was trying to tell him much more, about how happy he was to be here and not at home, how happy he was about Kukui’s father not playing golf and no trophies being in his room, but the brunet only heard his voice cracking as he fought against himself and his own weakness. Instead of asking him to repeat it all, the boy gently wrapped his arms around the taller male and hugged him tightly. He didn’t know how to feel, having Guzma sob into his shoulder uncontrollably while getting his back rubbed.

“You’re hurting me!”, he suddenly yelled between his cries and snorts, and Kukui quickly pulled back from the hug.

“I’m not doing anything”, Kukui replied with a shocked look on his face. But when Guzma lifted his shirt to wipe his face with it once and for all, he noticed the same spots his mother had noticed before. The dark circles surrounding his belly button, reminding him of human knuckles pushing themselves into his flesh rapidly and powerfully.

“Buddy…”, Kukui whispered. Very slowly, Guzma began to stop. His heart was racing, his nose was blocked, and occasional sobs still escaped from his throat.

“Buddy, who’s done that to you?”

“Done what?”, Guzma asked firmly, and his gaze froze as he realized he had accidently lifted his shirt without thinking first. He had shown Kukui the results from the last time he had cried without wanting to. The boys were completely silent for a few moments, and Kukui shook his head in disbelief a few times.

“No… I just… no… That just can’t be true…”

“You see it’s true”, Guzma hissed. He was confused and frightened, and all he could hope for was for Kukui to forget about it or ignore it. It would be the worst if his only friend left him behind now that he knew about it.

“Guzma… is your dad behind this?”

The male didn’t respond to the question and only crossed his arms, signing Kukui that he didn’t want to talk about it. It was no use, it wouldn’t change a thing. When he got home tomorrow, he’d still have to say Hello to his father’s newest golf club. He’d have to watch that beautiful face of his sister smirking at his misery, wishing he’d just be gone.

“Is this why you came here?”

“You take forever to notice things, ya know.”

Kukui bit his lower lip. He had to admit that was true. He hadn’t noticed that his friend was getting abused at home until now.

“Can I help you somehow?”

“Just… be nice to me.”

Guzma’s voice broke once again, and tears shot out of his eyes, quickly running down to his neck. Kukui was so overwhelmed by how sorry and guilty he felt that he couldn’t help but pull Guzma onto his bed with him.

“I’m so sorry”, he whispered, rubbing his back gently, careful not to hurt him this time. Though Guzma flinched a little, he returned the hug tightly, and Kukui felt the hot, salty water run down his own neck.

The white haired teen enjoyed every single second of the hug, wishing to never have to let go again. Softly, Kukui placed a kiss on his forehead, meaning to calm him down a little, but it only caused Guzma to sob even louder.

“I love you”, he bursted out, and Kukui felt his heart skip a beat when he heard that.

“I… I love you too, Guz”, he replied quietly, carefully stroking his hair with his other hand. He noticed a few spots without hair and tiny wounds, and he just wished to punch himself for not seeing them earlier. The teen’s crying seemingly came to no end, especially after Kukui saying he loved him, and the brunet gently lifted his gaze by touching his chin.

“I mean it”, he whispered.

“I really love you.”

“That’s a lie”, Guzma sniffled while Kukui wiped his tears away with his thumbs.

“I’m bad, I suck. Nobody can love me.”

“Don’t say that”, Kukui answered calmly, giving him a warm smile.

“I can love you. And I’m glad I can.”

“I’m always giving you a hard time”, Guzma whimpered.

“I always copy your stuff, I never listen to you, I entertain myself by pissing you off!”

“That’s fine”, Kukui said and gently pushed him down to the bed to lie down.

“I wouldn’t stay your friend if I didn’t like it, would I?”

Guzma nodded slowly, not wanting to get on his nerves much more by insisting how horrible he was. He cupped his hands over his face in shame.

“Guzma, what is wrong with you…”

“Many things”, Kukui sighed.

“But you’re my boy after all, aren’t you?”

Guzma’s heart skipped a beat and he again felt his cheeks turn bright red. Why did it feel so odd to hear him say that?

“Yeah… I’m your boy, Guzma.”

Kukui giggled and patted his shoulder.

“Yeah, my boy I’m proud of.”

The look Guzma suddenly gave him… Kukui couldn’t help but raise his eyebrow at it. He looked like he enjoyed it when he talked to him this way. Probably because his situation at home, at least that was the only explanation Kukui had for this. He didn’t mind, in fact, he was happy to help him at least a little. Maybe he should…

“My… my boy.”

“Hm…”

Telling by how soft his facial expression grew while hearing that and shutting his eyes, Kukui was sure of it now. He’d had a small feeling that Guzma showed signs of a daddy complex, but now he was absolutely certain it was true. Was it alright to even call him ‘his boy’? As long as he enjoyed it, it was alright, or not…?

“Who’s my boy?”, Kukui asked quietly as he lied down next to him, facing him. Guzma opened his eyes again and gave him a look of both comfort and confusion.

“I am your boy…?”

“That’s right”, Kukui smiled.

“And that makes me your…?”

“… Friend?”

“No”, Kukui chuckled.

“That makes me your daddy, numbskull.”

Guzma blushed intensively, and Kukui wanted to laugh at his face desperately, but he kept it down, for his sake.

Was Kukui trying to make fun of him? Or was he trying to have fun with him? Did he maybe find a spot on him that Guzma hadn’t seen before?

“My daddy…”, he repeated. The thought of having a father with a personality like Kukui’s was very pleasant. Someone who was always up to help, cheer on him, build him up, encourage him. Kukui was the kind of daddy Guzma wished for. With that in mind, he chuckled to himself.

“That’s embarrassing and stupid.”

“I don’t think it is”, Kukui admitted.

“I think it’s kinda cool. Let’s pretend I’m your daddy just for a while. It’s like playing house.”

“Dude, we’re too old to play house.”

“But too young to let our inner child die.”

Guzma sighed deeply. Maybe it would keep his mind off his home for a while to attempt to play house with his best friend.

“So… You’re my daddy… and I’m your boy.”

Just saying that made him feel an odd, tingling sensation creep down his back. Kukui didn’t want to admit it, but he felt it as well. It was embarrassing and weird, but somehow enjoyable.

“What are we going to do then… daddy?”

Kukui didn’t want to get too close to him, but he carefully pulled up Guzma’s shirt to his chest. Quickly, the white haired teen began to squirm underneath him.

“Hey, don’t do that!”

“Don’t talk to your daddy like that”, Kukui said firmly.

“If you don’t like what I’m doing, there’s other ways for you to say it.”

Guzma bit his lower lip desperately. He couldn’t think of anything fast enough to prevent him from seeing the dark circles and spots around his belly button.

“Please, daddy, don’t do that, I don’t want you to see that.”

“Don’t want me to see… what? Are you hiding something, my boy?”

While Kukui grew to like this kind of roleplay, Guzma only got redder and redder. For some reason, he could see his father talking to him, and he felt tears rush into his eyes yet again.

“No… I’m not…”

“Why are you lying? You know you don’t need to lie to me. I’m not going to get angry.”

After a short pause, Kukui continued.

“No matter what it is, I will still love you the same.”

Guzma began to sob again, and it took him a while to catch his breath and answer.

“The spots… I don’t want you to see them, daddy…”

“Why not? Are you ashamed?”

“No… I don’t want you to think I’m weak…”

Kukui carefully dared to put his hand on his belly, and Guzma flinched for a second, expecting to be punched deep inside. But when he opened his eyes and saw the dark brown color of Kukui’s eyes, friendly, warm and loving, he knew nothing was going to happen. He was his daddy now. A much better, much more caring daddy.

“You’re not weak, not at all”, Kukui declared softly.

“You’re very strong. I’m really, really proud of you, my boy.”

“Thank you, daddy…”

Kukui couldn’t help but notice just how stiff his voice sounded, so he slowly began to rub his belly. Guzma gasped for air and leaned back a little.

“Daddy, don’t…”

“Why not?”

“My stomach is so upset, it hurts so much…”

Kukui was surprised to hear that, but he soon felt the constant, quiet yet angry grumbling underneath his fingers himself.

“Do you want daddy to make you feel better…?”

Guzma nodded quickly, his eyes shut tightly. Slowly, Kukui massaged his belly in circles, careful to avoid the sensitive dark spots and not to push too hard. It was almost like he could feel the cramps loosening in his intestines, resulting in relieving sounding groans. Guzma moaned along quietly, an for some odd reason, the sensation Kukui had felt earlier grew stronger.

“Is this alright, my boy?”

“Yes daddy… that feels good…”

Growling, gurgling and bubbling erupted from Guzma’s belly, as Kukui kept massaging it lovingly. The teen had lied down on his back by now, almost pushing his belly and hips against the warmth, and the brunet couldn’t help but notice the bulge in Guzma’s lose pants. Wondering if it was time to stop, he wanted to pull the shirt back down, but the white haired teen pushed his hands onto his belly. Kukui felt the warmth of his skin wander into his own fingers, and blushed a little.

“Guzma…”

“Mhh…”

“I think we’re overdoing it a little…”

“No… please don’t stop… that feels so good…”

Kukui nodded slowly and continued to massage his friend’s belly in circles, this time with Guzma massaging along with him. The moans the white haired teen occasionally let out made Kukui blush furiously, and the sensation began to wander from his back to his front side. He didn’t only feel it in his stomach, but down in his pants as well, and Kukui knew very well in what it was going to turn pretty soon.

Guzma slid his hands up to Kukui’s bare chest and slowly drew circles across his chest and belly as well. The brunet was surprised about how good it felt, even without an upset belly, and he couldn’t help but grunt and gasp.

“Damn…”, he hissed as he watched the bulge in Guzma’s pants grow bigger. His own penis started getting curious of the situation as well, and just watching his friend slowly get erected kind of turned him on as well.

Guzma had completely forgotten about pride and holding himself back. He knew how much he truly loved his friend, and right now it didn’t matter to him if he returned that love or not. Kukui’s grunting as he let his hands wander across his upper body caused him a massive turn on, and all he wanted was to see the bulge in his pants grow as well. He had already noticed that Kukui reacted to his touch, but he yet had to find the right way to get it done perfectly.

“Fuck, Guzma, I’m…”

“Me too”, the teen hissed as he noticed just how good the fact that Kukui’s hands were so close to his privates felt.

“If you massage me any more, I’m gonna cum in my pants.”

**Censored**

Panting quietly, Kukui looked Guzma in the eyes. The moonlight coming from his window reflected in them, and even though they still were quite wet, Guzma looked deeply satisfied.

“How did daddy do? Is his boy satisfied?”

Guzma nodded slowly and chuckled.

“I hope your boy satisfied you as well.”

Kukui grinned at him. He had to admit he was really satisfied. Maybe even for an entire week.

“Dude… what are we?”

“Partners in crime”, Guzma replied and shut his eyes, signing Kukui to shut the hell up and go to sleep. Gladly, he took the option and lied down next to him.