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16 July 2005 @ 04:32 am
Certainly not Saccharine, or The Cocoa Conundrum  
Titile: Certainly not Saccharine, or The Cocoa Conundrum
Author:Wendy and her dearest Amy
Fandom: M&M's
Pairing: Red/Orange, Red/Yellow implied
Rating: PG-13
Content: m/m Slash, Angst, implied sex, drinking.

Disclaimer: I don't own M&Ms.  Not the rights to them, anyway.... Also, this was written under the influence of sugar. Angsty sugar...

Red awoke, his head throbbing, much like his violated nether regions. He tried to recall the sordid details of the previous night, but his mind was clouded with the remnants of Chocolate Liqueur; Only when he reached for the pain killing marshmallows did Red realize the gravity of his plight. Lying next to him was the sensuous, naked (read: gloveless) and delectably crispy Orange.

Red moaned and threw an arm over his eyes. He had vague memories of a fight with Yellow, and then drowning his sorrow in a seedy bar in the Tootsie Roll part of town. Yellow's constant concern over his previous carcinogenic transgressions only served to fuel Red's anger. He would never be able forgive himself for his previous misdeeds, and he believed Yellow would never forgive him either. Ever since his return from exile, their once trusting relationship had become strained, but they avoided their conflicts, applying a candy coating to the real issue.

Red studied his unfortunate bedmate. Orange's frequent crying spells had left white rings around his eyes. He supposed it was a pity fuck for the both of them: Red to escape from the troubles of his relationship, and Orange being the social pariah of the candy pack.

Orange slowly opened his eyes, widening them at the realization that Red was still present.

"You- You're still here.  Usually everyone leaves me..."

Red sighed. He had no idea how he was going to get out of this now. Truth be told, he had planned to escape before Orange regained consciousness.

"Listen, you can't tell anyone, okay? This was a mistake. You were a mistake." Red explained as he pulled on his gloves and prepared to leave.

"Funny, that was what my mother said before she stabbed me with a knitting needle," Orange sniffed. He turned away from Red, staring at the soiled, now multi-colored bed sheets morosely. Red barely glanced back as he left.