~PART FOUR~
One Never Knows

“So please don’t shed anymore tears
That is the energy most dear to me.”
~Miho Matsuba ‘What’s Up Guys?’


“I thought you meant the other Italian joint where they found a rat in the bouillon base,” Gateau snickered as Marron led him up to the doors of Squisito’s. Once inside, they had a seat at a table, and both unfolded their menus to make a selection.

“I think I’d like pizza.”

“Marron, we already had pizza.”

“Last week.”

“Still, this is a nice place. We should get something we couldn’t get at home.”

A few contemplative seconds passed in silence as each party examined his menu, looking for something that would tickle his fancy (besides pizza).

“The Spaghetti Bella Grande looks good,” Gateau noted.

“Yes,” Marron agreed, sighting the picture of said dish. True to it’s name, the platter was rather large, but nevertheless heaped with a droolworthy amount of noodles, sauce and good-sized meatballs.

“Why don’t we get one to split?” Marron suggested.

“That’s cool with me,” Gateau agreed, folding up his menu. Marron followed his example, laying his own menu flat on the table. Once rid of this obstruction, Gateau was able to stare at Marron, admiring how very nice he looked; He was wearing a tight black velvet shirt, along with his kilt and patent leather platforms. He was so incredibly pale that his skin provided a clean contrast to the black he wore.

“What’s the matter, Gateau?”

Gateau blinked for a moment, tearing his eyes away from Marron, “No... Nothing...”

Marron shrugged to himself, and casually brushed an errant tress of burgundy hair behind his ear. As he lifted his hand, the glint of the light on his ring caught Gateau’s attention. Gateau looked down at his own ring, unable to suppress a joyful moronic grin. He was going to marry Marron. Not so long ago, it seemed as though Marron would never be more to him than a mere friend, and here he was now, eating dinner with Marron, his fiancee, who would be his husband in barely a few days. This thought left Gateau feeling all warm and plushy inside as his heart squealed like a schoolgirl, turning his blood more sugary than Log Cabin maple syrup (it’s all artificial sweeteners. You have to know that that crap is practically VOID of the stuff you get from a tree).

After a very satisfactory dinner of more spaghetti than they’d ever begun to think they could fit into their stomachs, Marron and Gateau left Squisito’s, feeling fat and happy. As they ventured down a more ‘dodgy’ area of town, they had a very interesting encounter with a being of the past. As they were strolling past an alleyway, a voice crooned from their left,

“Hey, Tiger, you wanna taste of this town’s most delectable hospitality?”

Both men froze as a soft, nasal voice that was hauntingly familiar drifted out of the alley.

“Your friend can come too. There’s enough of me to go around.”

Gateau’s and Marron’s jaws just about hit the sidewalk as a slender woman slid out from the shadows of the alley into view. She wore black patent leather knee-high boots, fishnet stockings, an obscenely short black skirt and a tight, shiny red leather top that showed a lot of cleavage. Her hair hung in red, flossy ribbons that were a little past ear-legnth in an overgrown bowl cut. Her facial features were heavily made-up, but through the excess of brown eye shadow, you could still see her piercing, dark blue eyes. No... It couldn’t be... but it was...

“Chocolate?!”

The woman’s blue eyes went wide as she heard her name leave the lips of the stripe-haired blond. How did he know her? She certainly didn’t remember servicing him. But there was something very familiar about him... and his femmie sidekick...

“Oh my gods...” She breathed, “Gateau?” she asked, pointing to said person. He nodded.

“And Marron?”

He smiled as the path of her finger found him, “Hello Chocolate.”

“Oh my GODS!” she repeated, throwing her arms around Gateau, and then embracing Marron, “You guys! Haven’t seen ya in forever! Well, don’t just stand there! Come on in, and let’s have a little sit-down reunion.”

Chocolate seized Marron’s hand and bade Gateau follow her as she led her friends to her home.

Chocolate lived in the ghetto-ish part of town. Her house was a tiny run-down cottage-looking thing with two rooms; one with a table and four overturned wooden crates pretending to be chairs that was for eating in, and other with a gaudy set-up of pillows and blankets on a mattress that was for... exercising her profession. Except for said furniture and a rickety cabinet, Chocolate’s house was bare. The floor was laced with evidence that termites were enjoying her home as well, and the walls showed quite a bit of dry rot and a vast array of cracks. Her roof looked as though it was rotting and the some dust fell from the dry rafters every once in a while. The place looked like crap, but of course Gateau and Marron said nothing, and seated themselves upon two of the overturned wooden crates at Chocolate’s behest. She retrieved a few Juice Boxes and a package of sugar wafers from the cabinet, and set the items on the table before having a seat.

“Nice place, huh?” Chocolate said, an edge of cold sarcasm embedded in her voice. Neither man knew how to answer, so both remained silent.

“Sorry I can’t offer you more,” Chocolate said humbly, punching her straw into her Juice Box, “But times are hard. Not many people have come a’calling lately. ‘Guess the hormones are in hibernation this time of year.”

As she extended her hand, offering Marron a Juice Box, Gateau noticed a few fresh bruises along her much-too-skinny arm.

“No problem,” he said, pretending to not see what he was seeing.

“Yes,” Marron nodded, equally uneasy, “We understand.”

They did understand, but it made them feel no less awkward. There was not a lot you could say to someone living in what couldv’e been called poverty without worry of offending her. One would think that this wouldn’t be true, because prositutes and bums and the like have seen everything. This was not the case. Chocolate had always been a proud and passionate lady. Her personality was as firey as her hair was red. She stubbornly kept her soul nailed upon what she believed in, no matter what anyone said. A hurricane could not have swayed her. Yet, to see her now, in such a broken state... Not only did it make Gateau and Marron feel squirmy inside. It was heartwrenching. But Chocolate never wanted pity. Such a gift disgusted her, and hell hath no fury like Chocolate scorned. Noting their own unease, they decided to let Chocolate do most or all of the talking, and would speak when spoken to. That path was much safer.

“Well I dun wanna got into gruesome detail about what a bitch Life has been to me,” Chocolate said, crossing her legs and allowing her hands to support her face as her elbows were supported by the table, “so why don’t you guys tell me all about what you’ve been up to?”

“Nothing really,” Gateau said, shrugging, and trying to look as casual as possible, “But Marron just graduated from college.”

“Oh?” Chocolate said, looking over at Marron, “Well, you always were the smartest of us all. You never had the complications of unrequited love and the other such bullshit riddling your life,” Chocolate said, a bittersweet half-smile playing over her cherry-vinyl lips, “So now that you’re ready to face the world what are you gonna do?”

“Teach,” Marron said, trying not to let his pity show in his voice, “I’m going to be a Special Education teacher.”

“Awesome,” Chocolate said, raising her eyebrows, “Share your smarts to the rest of the dumb world. Gods only know people these days could get a little smarter. It seems that everyone but a select few actually get to be all they can be in the life. The rest just get stupider and stupider, and end up filling themselves up with shit like drugs and drinks. And... wasting away...” Chocolate’s voice, which had turned bitter and dark, trailed off, as her expression turned to a cold frown. Both men remained silent for a few seconds, while she made her way out of the frigid silence she’d fallen into. Slowly, but surely, her voice brightened a bit as she continued, “But, it looks like there’s a little light at the end of my tunnel,” Chocolate said, her voice maintaining only a few of the dark traces of bitterness, “I’m happy to inform you two that I underwent therapy for a year, and I graduated last week. No more shots for moi. I’m now officially clean.”

“That’s wonderful, Chocolate,” Marron said, smiling to lighten the mood.

“Yeah, congratulations,” Gateau added.

“Well, at least it means no more hangovers. No more stealing. No more ducking the police. It’s also quite liberating in the financial sense. But there are still taxes to be paid, so I’m still a lousy, lumberjacking bitch-ho.” Chocolate lamented, snorting with disgust, “Gods... I never thought that I would sink so low as to defile myself like this, just to stay alive...”

Gateau and Marron held their breath, not knowing how to look or think as Chocolate continued, “Fifty bucks... Fifty. Freaking. Bucks... So some louse can push me down and sweat beer all over me. Make me feel as though I’m a silly toy, a pet he can pick up and then drop like a newborn girraffe. Like I’m not even human.”

She sighed heavily, her starved, abused body going lax into a forlorn droop. She only looked up when Gateau reached across the table and gently touched her hand in a gesture that was comforting, but not out of pity. She managed a tiny smile for him.

“Back when I was a fall-down drunk, what I did for money was not so bad,” Chocolate continued, “To some extent, I even managed to get some pleasure of my own out of it. I was happy because, like a stalwart companion, or a best friend, alcohol could always take my pain away. But now... Everytime I lie with a man, I feel as though he’s sleeping with someone who is and was already dead. It’s killing me. It’s absolutely killing me. But I know I can’t go back. I can never go back. If I do, then I will die for real.”

Marron sighed sympathetically, willing waves of comfort to seep from his aura, and soak into Chocolate’s. Somehow, this seemed to have at least some effect, for she shook her head and sighed, waving her hand dimissively.

“Well, they always say that you gotta put the past behind ya, so I plan on making a major effort toward a reasonable life. It’ll be hard, but I know I can do it.”

“I know you can too,” Gateau said bracingly, releasing her hand and smiling his encouragement. Marron nodded in agreement. Both men believed with all their hearts that Chocolate would, someday, find a sunrise that would bring about the dawn of a new life for her. She would have to struggle, and deal with a good lot of hardship, but Chocolate was extraordinary. Some people would say she was stubborn as a bull. Better people would say she was stout-hearted. Her stamina was incredible, as was evident in her teen years when she’d been crushing on Carrot. She’d been very open with her feelings. Often too open for her own good, in fact. Her extravagant displays of affection often scared Carrot more than pleased him. Thus, for years, Carrot spent a great deal of his time giving Chocolate the red light. No matter how many times she was spurned, Chocolate never gave up. She kept on going and going like a red-haired Energizer Bunny. Her shy baby sister, Tira had also held a candle for Carrot, and suffered in silence as Chocolate continued to throw herself at his feet. It wasn’t that Tira was not honest with her feelings. It was just that she was far too timid to say anything while Chocolate was so boldly latching onto Carrot, and supposedly making it clear that they were destined to be together. Not to mention the additional attempts of a certain bisexual crossdressing lunatic. Mille would also ruthlessly pursue Carrot, glomping onto the elder Glace boy and calling him Cutie, along with other such simpering tags of affection. With the colorful and endless parade of open flirting from Chocolate and Mille, Tira often felt as though her hopes and dreams were pointless and stupid. However, the ironic whim of Fate had brought Carrot to Tira. If it had been another woman, you could be sure that Chocolate would’ve immediately lept between them and given Carrot a good maiming. But it was her little sister, whom she loved dearly. Thus, incredibly, Chocolate had accepted defeat. Even though Marron and Gateau secretly thought that Tira and Carrot deserved eachother, they still felt for the elder Misu sister, with whom Ugly Fate had so cruelly dealt with.

“I’m glad you guys still believe in me,” Chocolate said, her voice possessing a faint note of gratitude, “My courage is somewhat less than it was. But, I like to look at it like this; I’m already on my way, thanks to my sister and that husband of hers. Oh, did you hear? Tira just had her baby.”

“Really?”

“Yup. Toffee Glace. Female. Two weeks old on Thursday. I got to see her after I came out of the therapy place,” Chocolate said, actually smiling, her iced-blue eyes softened a bit with adoration at the memory, “Gods, she’s adorable. She’s got curly black hair, and your eyes, now that I think of it... only hers are blue,” Chocolate said, gesturing at Marron, “Oh, by the way Marron, have you heard from Carrot at all? When I asked him about you, he looked out the window and started talking about the weather.”

“Um, it’s kind of-”

“No, Gateau, it’s alright,” Marron said, putting a hand on Gateau’s arm, cutting him off gently before taking a quick breath and turning back to Chocolate, “I don’t think Carrot would’ve spoken of me even if the weather weren’t worth mentioning. He’s quite angry with me and as of a year ago, I’m disowned.” Marron said, perfectly calm, a little surprised himself at how okay he was with saying that out loud.

“My gods, that’s awful!” Chocolate gasped, before crossing her arms and frowning bitterly, “So, Carrot cast you aside like a four-cent pair of socks. I know how that feels.” Chocolate grumbled, rolling her eyes, “So, what was his excuse for flicking you off?”

“Well, let me put it this way,” Marron replied, “are you busy on Sunday?”

“Marron,” Chocolate replied flatly, giving him a no-nonsense look, “I’m busy everyday.”

Gateau nearly gagged on his juice. Marron’s only reaction was a slight twitch of the brow.

“I see...” Marron said, pulling a card out of his pocket, “But do you think you could take some time out of your busy schedule to come to our wedding?”

“Whose wedding?” Chocolate asked, puzzled as she accepted the card. Upon opening it and reading the names inside, she let out a little gasp.

“Well, shoot me if I miss this!” she declared, leaping up from her seat and placing the card carefully on the cabinet top. She drooped a little as she sat back down, looking at the guys with a soft shame dimming her blue irises, “but, are you sure you want a skanky whorebag like me profaning the joyous atmosphere of this blessed event?”

“No,” Gateau said, giving her a smile, “but above all, we want our friends to come, so please do.”

“You’d be seen with me in public?”

“Chocolate,” Marron said with a small, but reassuring smile, “You’re our friend, and we want you with us.”

“...Alright. I’ll be there,” Chocolate said with an almost cheerful shrug. She then rose from her seat, “Well you guys, it’s been nice, but I’m losing valuable money-earning time. You never know when some gutter rat with a promising pocket is gonna walk by.”

“Very well,” Marron said, “We’ll be off then.”

Chocolate escorted the two men back to the alley entrance, where she bid them each farewell.

“It was really great seeing you both again,” she said, giving them each a smile, “I can’t wait till Sunday. I know your wedding’s gonna be beautiful.”

“We’ll see ya then.”

“Before we leave...” Marron said, digging into his pocket and retrieving his wallet, “I want to give you this.”

“Oh no, Marron, I can’t take your money...” Chocolate declined as he held out a couple twenties.

“We used over a half an hour of your business time,” he reasoned, “It’s the least I can do.”

“Well, I thank you, Marron,” Chocolate said, accepting the money and tucking it away in her cleavage, seeing as she had no pockets, and giving him a warm, grateful smile, “You always were too kind.”

“Goodbye Chocolate.”

“Bye guys!”

Chocolate waved until they were out of sight, then the redheaded whore set herself up in the alley entrance, her keen blue eyes on a sharp lookout for anyone who wanted a quickie and was willing to pony up the moolah for a damn good one.


“Would you kindly close your window?”

“But there’s a nice breeze. Why d’you want it closed?”

“I just do.”

“Well, why?”

“Gateau...”

“Oh gods, Marron, will you PLEASE stop giving me the stink-eye? I HATE that!”

“I’m not giving you the stink-eye.”

“Yes you are. You’re doing it right now!”

“I just want the window closed. PLEASE.”

“Okay... Okay...” Gateau mumbled, finally surrendering, and closing the window. The loud jaugernut of the road was thankfully gone, as was any noise for that matter. The only other occupant of the bus was an old lady who looked as though she was living proof that dinosaurs once walked the earth. She was probably as blind and deaf as the fossil she resembled, so the two men paid her no mind. She was way up in the front of the bus while they were in the very back anyway. Gateau broke the silence only to bitch.

“It’s hot. I don’t see why we can’t just open one window.”

“I want it closed.”

“You mean you’re afraid you’re gonna get sucked out.”

“No, that’s not it.”

“Yes it is,” Gateau teased, “You’re afraid you are going to be sucked out. Admit it!”

“The wind is blowing my hair, and I want to keep it nice,” Marron said, “Do you really want to marry me with my hair going every direction at once? And the noise bothers me.”

“Alright, fine. No more open window from me, no more stink-eye from you, deal?”

“But I wasn’t giving you the stink-”

“Deal?” Gateau insisted.

Marron rolled his eyes, “Fine.”

Silence. For a few seconds, both parties continued to stare out of their respective (closed) windows. Then both turned their heads at the same time, looking at each other and burst out laughing. A full minute later, Marron’s breath was still shaking with laughter as Gateau was leaning his head on Marron’s shoulder, dispensing the last of his own amusement and wondering what the hell was so damn funny. They remained this way until the bus stopped at the Seven Eleven.

“That’s our stop,” Marron said, starting to get up. He laughed, “Don’t forget your head,” he muttered, carefully lifting Gateau’s stripey-blond cranium from his shoulder with one hand.

They left the bus and the old lady, and from the Seven Eleven, the two walked hand in hand to the church.


“So, are ya with the groom or the groom?” the brown-haired white-robed usher whose name tag read ‘Cinnamon Koocha’ asked before laughing, “Just kidding. So who are you with?”

“I guess we’re with Marron,” the rose-haired woman replied, shrugging. When her husband snorted disdainfully, she swatted him with her free hand (she was holding her infant child with the other arm). Cinnamon led them into the the church and had them sit down, then he hurried back to the door to escort the next party in.

“Tira, this shirt is absolutely strangling me,” Carrot grumbled as his wife shifted her baby daughter to one arm, so she could straighten her older son’s bow tie with the other.

“I’ll take it back next Thursday, honey,” she said, without looking over at him.

“Well that doesn’t really help me, now, does it?”

“Oh, for pete’s sake, hold still..... Carrot, this shirt is fine.”

“Well, it feels too tight around the neck.”

“Maybe it’s because of your tie,” Tira suggested, then smiled knowingly, “Or maybe it’s because you’re just ancy about having to see him again.”

“I am not,” Carrot said, in dark (futile) protest. Tira shrugged and said “Whatever,” before turning to her son again, “Aw, honey, you’ve got a spot!”

As his wife was trying to get the offending stain out of the collar of her son’s shirt, Carrot began to realize how right she was. He was indeed very squirmy inside at the thought of seeing the brother he’d shunned for so many years. Despite the qualms he felt in the pit of his stomach, Carrot decided it would be best to talk to Marron before the wedding and get it over with. He scanned the church sanctuary for his brother, seeing all kinds of rainbow-y decorations and banners, triangle-shaped sequins littering the floor, a few flower arrangements off the to side, and some more guests filing in, but there was no sign of his younger brother anywhere. He didn’t even see that moronic corruptor of innocents- yes he did... Gateau was standing off to the side, talking to a young woman with green hair that Carrot didn’t recognize. She nodded and left Gateau’s side. As his attention was no longer held by her, Gateau happened to look in Carrot’s direction and he froze for a moment, noticing that he was being watched. Gateau then made his way over to where Carrot was sitting with his wife and children. Carrot stiffened slightly, feeling a sharp edge of annoyance bristling throughout his body as the blond man approached. He was wearing a black tux with... black motorcycle boots? And a dog collar? His hair, which was greased into a deep side-part, was candy-striped red. The guy had always been a weirdo, but still...

“Well, hullo Gateau,” Carrot said, almost coldly, but politely and not looking for trouble.

“Hey Carrot.” Gateau said as casually as he could, trying to disregard the half-glare Carrot was giving him. And he thought Marron gave him a nasty stink-eye. Ouch.

“Hello Gateau,” Tira said warmly, giving him a congenial smile.

“Hello there Tira,” Gateau said, having no trouble greeting her. When he’d last seen her, Tira was a petite little cherub who wore coke-bottle glasses. She was skinny as a bean pole, shy, and skittish. Now she was more laid back and casual, and a maternal warmth seemed to radiate from her as she cradled her baby. She wasn’t beautiful so much in the ‘sexy’ sense anymore. Her beauty had undergone a shift into a more down-to-earth ‘glow’. But she was still quite beautiful, nonetheless, with her curly strawberry-red hair (which had gotten a bit longer) and her gentle eyes, like rose petals, in front of which were wire-framed glasses.

Carrot looked pretty much the same. He had wire for hair and his black cowlicks were subdued with about a ton of grease for this occasion. His skin didn’t look quite as tanned, and was pockmarked in a few places. Despite all of this, Carrot was still skinny as hell, and he still had those adventurous chestnut eyes, though they seemed a bit less soft than they used to be. Of course, this was very possibly due to the person he was looking at, but still...

“Where’s Marron?”

“I dunno,” Gateau shrugged, “He’s around. He said he wanted to go use the bathroom, but that was ten minutes ago.”

“Oh, I see,” Carrot said.

‘Big gorilla... Can’t even keep track of his own fiancee,’ Carrot thought, mentally snorting.

“OH MY GAWDS, IS THAT YOU, CARROT!?”

Carrot’s disdainful sentiments came to a screeching halt as two strong, wiry arms locked around him from behind. Gasping for breath, he looked over his shoulder, only to get a face full of aquamarine hair. It was that woman who’d been fluttering around Gateau a few minutes ago. And she was glomping onto Carrot now. Couldn’t she see his wife sitting right next to them with their kids?!

“Ooooh! You’re soooo cute! It’s been soooo long, Carrot!” the little lolita squealed as she huggled Carrot like little girls hug onto kitty-cats. Gods, for a girl, she sure had big hands...

Thankfully, Gateau came to his rescue.

“Whoa, Milphey! Down boy! He’s married, you idiot!” He said, laughing as he pulled Carrot’s harasser off of him.

“Wha-? M-Mille?!” Carrot gasped, between coughs, worshiping the bountiful air he so graciously sucked into his lungs. He then took a moment to get an eyeful of the person who’d attacked him. A red, crushed velvet dress, white gloves, long, wavy green hair (it had been re-dyed, course). No tits. Yep, the guy was a trompe l’oeil work of art; beneath the make-up and the drag, he was, indeed a man. A man who had spent many of his teen years pursuing Carrot, along with Tira and Chocolate. Of course, ramrod-straight, homophobic Carrot was quite put-out by Mille’s flamboyant and open bisexuality. Mille was also VERY much the touchy-feely type, and when he displayed his infatuation in a more physical way, Carrot couldn’t help but feel as though insects were crawling over his skin.

Nevertheless, Mille had been a good friend to Carrot all those years ago (when Mille’s hand was not groping at Carrot’s shirt and pants, of course), so Carrot greeted him in a relatively nice way.

“Hi Milphey.”

“Hey you,” Mille said, giving Carrot a smile that almost made his skin crawl, “Guess what? I’m the best man!”

“I’m sure,” Carrot said, nodding, ‘Best (wo)man’.

“Well, I’d love to chat, but I gotta go mingle, so I’ll see you lovely people later, mmmkay?” Mille said, giving Carrot a peck on the cheek before dashing off. Carrot made an annoyed noise in his throat as he wiped away the gift of black cherry lip gloss that Mille had so thoughtfully left him with.


“Oh, where to start...” Marron moaned at the mirror, as if it were actually listening to him, like a very shiny shrink. He leaned against the wall, breathing deeply and trying to will his tensed body into relaxing... But who could relax when they were in the hot seat he’d ended up sitting on? “Okay, let’s see... ‘Carrot... I’m sorry for using your bed-’ no... ‘Carrot, brother... Whether or not I like men, I’m still-’ no, that’s no good either... ‘Carrot, why can’t you see that love is love no matter WHAT I love? What is the big froopy deal?! Why can’t-’ ...Oh gods, oh gods, why do I even bother?” Marron asked his reflection, and the rest of the uncaring restroom, as he paced along the tiled floor, “Maybe if I just stay in here until the last second, and don’t look at him at all during the actual ceremony, then I won’t-”

“You’re going to have to face him sooner or later.”

“I know that, but not just yet. I still need time to- I mean, um... face who, Mille?” Marron said, whirling around, noticing the presence of his crossdressing friend, who was standing just behind him, grinning, and looking cool as a cucumber.

“You know very well who, Marron,” Mille said, giving Marron a knowing look.

“I just don’t know what to say to him, Mille,” Marron said dejectedly.

“You will know,” Mille said, opening the door and turning to leave, “You’ve known all along. Whoa, and it looks like you’re in for some rough company now, so I’ll just be going. Bye bye!”

With that, Mille darted out of the restroom, the door drifting closed behind him, leaving Marron looking a tad bit corn-fused. A few seconds later, the door opened. Mille coming back to give Marron some last-second advice, no doubt.

Wrongo.

“Hey Marron.”

Marron swallowed the lump in his throat before shakily replying, “Hello, Carrot.”

Carrot took another step into the bathroom, hardly daring to look at Marron. Then, finally, he did get the courage to look.

“Jeezus, Marron, what is up with your hair?!”

“I’m glad you came,” Marron said, studying the toe of his shoe, and disregarding Carrot’s question, “I didn’t think you would.”

“To be perfectly honest, I didn’t really think I would either,” Carrot admitted, “Why did you invite me anyway?”

“I think you know the answer to that question,” Marron said, the hint of a frown crossing his features, “I think you know it very well.”

“Marron, it’s been two years.”

“It could have been less. It should have been none at all.”

“I was angry.”

“So was I. What you did to me made me feel ungodly angry, but did I make you feel ostracized and alone?”

“Well, what about what you did do to me?”

“You ripped my heart out, Carrot! Did you come back to do it again?!”

“Shut up, Marron, just shut up! I don’t wanna do this!” Carrot half-shouted, “Let’s not get into a big shit about who did what to who! Let’s leave our petty differences in the past where they belong, for the love of whatever gods you revere!”

Marron nodded, “You’re right, Carrot. I’m sorry.”

“And don’t do that either. Neither of us have anything to apologize for. You betrayed me and I betrayed you,” Carrot reasoned, “We're even now, so let’s start from zero, okay?”

“Carrot, what are you saying?”

“Look, Marron. I don’t wanna get all sentimental and sappy, but, bottom line, I miss you,” Carrot nodded, upon seeing Marron’s shocked face, confirming his words, “Hey, you’re hella cool guy, no matter what you marry. And you’ll always be my brother, whether I like it or not. Being apart from you made me realize how much you really mean to me. I... I want you back.”

“.....” was Marron’s response.

“So... will you give me a chance to be a better big brother?”

“Are you serious?”

“Of course,” Carrot nodded, “What can I say? You’re my kid brother. I love you, Marron.”

“.....”

“So... um, whaddya say?”

Marron said nothing, but his smile spoke volumes, as did the single nod he gave Carrot, before going right up to his long-lost brother and hugging him. After recovering from his shock, Carrot managed to return the hug.

“I like having you for my little brother,” were the words Carrot spoke before he gave Marron a quick kiss on the forehead.

“I love you too, Carrot,” Marron finally said, his voice like velvet, soft with fraternal affection.

“Yeah, well, it’s nice having you back,” Carrot said, then released Marron, “But whaddya say we bring this sentimental crap to an end and go and get you married before this turns into some pruny soap opera?”

Marron nodded, unable to suppress a smile as he followed Carrot out of the bathroom.


It was a pretty small wedding. Not many guests. Just the former band members of Horny Unicornie, some of the workers Gateau had befriended when he’d worked at McDonalds, some of Marron’s friends from college (including Mozerella and NOT including Biscotti), Chocolate, Tira, Carrot, and their children. And of course, Eclaire. She was one of the last guests to arrive, running up to Gateau and hugging him forcefully.

“So, my big brother got married!” Eclaire said, her one eye sparkling as she gave Gateau a playful punch in the shoulder.

“Not quite yet, Gateau said, smiling and straightening his collar, “Not quite yet.”


One nice thing about a Unitarian Universalist church is the sense of equality. As the name suggests, there is an undying sense of unity. Those who attend seem to be so in touch with the universe, too. The religion is not really a religion at all, seeing as there is no real ‘Godly figure’, there are no people that are better than others, and everyone is on the same rung of the social ladder, no matter who they are, or what they believe. Bottom line, they are just more open-minded. Gateau’s and Marron’s marriage wasn’t anything legally binding (seeing as that would be against the law), but a ceremony would make the whole thing more ‘authentic’ than just plunking on rings and saying, “Hey we’re married. Bada-bing bada-boom”. Such a place also provided a setting where they both felt at ease and secure about what they were doing. It was for this reason that Marron and Gateau chose to be married in a Unitarian Universalist church.

One shining example of the diversity of the church was its reverend. The reverend was a woman, whom everyone called ‘Mother’. The title suited her perfectly. Though still very young, and single, she was the parent of nine adopted children, and had found loving homes for countless others. Eat your heart out, Rosie O’Donnell. Mother lived to help the world, and was very down-to-earth and humble. She was also very beautiful. She looked not a day over twenty-eight, with her fair skin, impeccable grace, and obscenely long wavy hair that seemed to possess a soft, ethereal glow. She was well renowned and had been a speaker for many big charities, and the head of countless projects, when she was not speaking at the church, of course.

She stepped delicately out to the front of the sanctuary, her loose white dress trailing behind her. Upon seeing her finding her position before them, everyone had a seat and quieted down. Gateau took his place at the front of the room, while Marron waited in the back. Yes, they had agreed that Marron would play the part of the bride.

There was no organ in the church, so they had to settle for plain old piano music, which was perfectly fine. As Gateau watched Marron walk down the aisle, carrying a bouquet of lilacs, he couldn’t remember a time when Marron had ever looked so... aaah... He was wearing a white, somewhat form-fitting tuxedo, and dainty white shoes that resembled slippers. Despite Gateau’s many pleas and puppy eyes, Marron had refused to wear a wedding dress, but did wear a veil that covered the upper half of his face, and had an attached trail that went just past his shoulders. He’d done his makeup in the time he’d spent hiding out in the restroom, so Gateau hadn’t seen his face since they’d entered the church. Still, Marron was... beautiful. As feminine as that sounds, there was no other word to describe him. Marron was, in an ageless, sexless way, beautiful. Like a living sculpture almost, his skin was white like porcelain, his eyes brilliant like gold, and his hair... had undergone too many different looks to fit one description. He would never fade, it seemed. Never grow old. He had partaken of the ambrosia from the fountain of youth, damned to eternal perfection as he watched the world wilt around him...

Gateau slipped a finger under his collar and pulled it out a bit to give himself more breathing room. The passage of time seemed to lapse into a crawl as he watched Marron approaching, so pure and angelically graceful. Suddenly, Gateau felt very humbled. As if he was a lowly human earthling about to take the hand of a heavenly being. A fallen angel, perhaps...

Gateau shook his head once to clear his mind... He was going to marry Marron. Hearing those simple words sent pleasurable shivers throughout his body. He watched his husband-to-be, who was being escorted by his green-haired crossdressing friend. The little girl who danced in front of them, leaving showers of white flower petals in her wake, he did not know. He only knew that she was one of Mother’s adopted daughters. Marron had visited this church many times, and had gotten to know her. He was not a regular member, but he simply came to the Sunday services every once in a while when he felt the need for spiritual stimulation and crap like that. Either way, she was the only young girl Marron knew, so the Daughter had been nominated as flower-girl. She did indeed look very pretty in her pale blue dress with her dark hair done up in twin buns. She’d been adopted from a far- away country, and was said to be the child of an ancient tribe. Her face was rounded, but had petite, angular features, and large olive-green eyes. As she pranced along the aisle, she seemed to almost float above the ground, as if she had wings.

Another of Mother’s adopted children, Cerise, was the ring bearer. He was a bit older than Daughter, a Paranoid, and disabled. He rolled down the aisle in his wheelchair, behind Marron and Mille, with the ring-topped pillow in his lap, his gaze darting nervously from side to side. Cerise had been diagnosed with paranoia and tuberculosis when he was very young. The physicians at the adoption center decided that he had been born with the mental disorder, but the infection was due to the unsanitary conditions of the third-world country he came from. Despite his ragged condition, Mother had adopted Cerise, and he was fortunate enough to recover under her care. This, however, did not come without a price. The disease had done permanent damage to his legs, and left him unable to walk. As for his paranoia, it wasn’t as serious as it could’ve been, but one of the more profound impacts of it was the fact that Cerise hardly spoke. The best explanation anyone could give as to why was that he felt anything he said could easily incriminate him. He also felt nervous and shaky when he was around strangers. This was evident by the way his sharp gaze flitted back and forth, like a bird’s, almost. Like he was constantly on the lookout for someone who sought to do him harm (which was, very probably, the case). He only ever looked beyond remotely secure when he near his adoptive mother. Thirteen-year-old Cerise would latch onto Mother’s dress, and nestle up against her side, looking for all the world like a little toddler. Often when Cerise did this, Mother would lift him out of the wheelchair and set him on her lap, where she would let her son lay his head upon her shoulder while she spoke gently to him. Even so, he would still clutch at her clothing as if for dear life. He could be totally relaxed otherwise, but his fists were always as firm as stone, as was his expression. The look on his face was indifferent, but if you looked closely, you could see the fear glittering in his proud, cold eyes. Despite all this, Cerise was a fine, healthy-looking young boy. He had thick, dark hair with a rat-tail in the back, and a very brown but smooth, even complexion. He had beautiful slanted eyes that were the same color as Marron’s, and looked almost feline. He was the only other person Gateau could remember that had those intriguingly golden-yellow irises. It was almost creepy in a way, if he thought about it long enough. But then again, Marron was one of a kind.

As Marron made his way to the front of the room, one baby-step at a time, he happened to cast a side glance over to his left. His gaze fell upon his brother. Carrot smiled and winked at him. Marron returned the smile and gave Carrot a small nod before continuing on his little journey up the aisle. He felt warm joy welling up in his heart. He was going to spend the rest of his life with Gateau, the one who’d given him love enough to help him recover what he thought he’d lost, and Carrot was welcoming him back with open arms. So life didn’t suck so much after all. Go figure.

After what seemed a miniature eternity, Marron was beside Gateau and the two of them were standing before Mother, who was beaming down at them in adoration.

“Friends,” she began, “We are gathered here today in the sight of the heavens, of those who keep an eternal vigil over this and all of the other three-thousand worlds, to witness the union between two souls, who have found unity already, in their own special way. Gateau Mocha,” she said turning to Gateau and taking one of his broad hands into one of her own, which was soft and fair, “Do you take Marron Glace to be your husband and so much more, to be your steadfast guardian, to be your loving accomplice, to stand at your side for the duration of your days in this world, and for the eternity you shall find in the next?”

“I do,” Gateau said, unable to suppress a smile.

“And Marron Glace,” she said, turning her gentle gaze upon Marron and taking his hand, “Do you take Gateau Mocha to be your husband and so much more, to be your steadfast guardian, to be your loving accomplice, to stand at your side for the duration of your days in this world, and for the eternity you shall find in the next?”

“I do,” Marron said in soft declaration.

“And Gentleman,” she added, placing their hands together, “Do you marry for life, for love, and for ever?”

“We do.”

“Then confirm your vow” Mother said, “Gateau, Marron, you may kiss.”

Gateau nodded once, then turned to Marron, who looked up at him almost expectantly from behind the translucent veil. As Gateau lifted the shining fabric from Marron’s face, he decided his thoughts concerning the fallen angel-Marron association had been correct. Marron was wearing very little make-up. Just a very subtle purple coloring on his lips and a lot of glitter around his eyes. Who said angels had to have blue eyes and blond hair anyway? Gateau genuinely thought that, in this way, black-haired, gold-eyed Marron looked like a child of the heavens. And his smile, as slight as it was, was enough to make Gateau feel about ready to melt into a fluffy little pile of pink goo. Yes, the smile was that good.

As he watched Gateau lower his head to kiss Marron, and Marron rising to meet him, Carrot felt something squirm in the pit of his stomach. It could’ve been disgust, it could've been guilt. It could’ve been a bit of either. Marron was going to be stuck with another man. Ick. No, that wasn’t right. Marron chose to be stuck with another man. Yes, ick, but not such a bad ick this time. If Gateau could make Marron happy, then Carrot could deal with it. Even if Gateau was a dinosaur of a guy, and a real dunce, and a clumsy dork- wait... Carrot shook his head. He couldn’t be thinking like that anymore. If he wanted Marron to be happy, then he’d at least have to be a bit more accepting. Then, any sounds that might’ve remained in the church fell away, and Carrot watched his baby brother through a deaf man’s eyes. He could hear nothing. Not even his own breath. And all he could see was Marron, gently touching the lips of another man with his own. As he watched them kiss, Carrot was amazed that he felt no nausea ghosting up the back of his throat. Nothing twitched in the pit of his stomach. And no sirens went off in depths of his brain, reserved for dark, slimy Disgust. He felt nothing whatsoever, by watching his brother and Gateau united in muted passion. That in itself was a revelation.

The reception that followed the service was small, but grand in its own way, because everyone was absolutely apeshit with happiness (thanks to lovely array of fine wines and liquors). Mille ended up plastering himself into passing out right in the middle of the sanctuary floor. When Marron threw the bouquet, Chocolate caught it, and the smile on her face was just so precious. Everyone danced and danced until they themselves collapsed and the afternoon became evening, and the evening became lost in laughter. There was a slew of damn-good food, and by the end of the day, everyone felt fat and drunk and peachy-why-the-hell-is-the-room-spinning-keen. All the guys were slapping Gateau on the back, and all the ladies were babbling at Marron about honeymoons in Fiji and the Bahamas. There was a delightful cake-fight that wound up sending the DJ running down the street, screaming that “the church had gone crazy”. Beforehand, he’d played a David Bowie song called “As the World Falls Down”, which resulted in Gateau and Marron slow-dancing cheek-to-cheek. This was just about the only peaceful moment in the whole wild reception.

Finally, Gateau and Marron exited the church, only to find a limo waiting for them, with the traditional “Just Married” in a huge rainbow font across the back, along with all kinds of other happy shit written in shaving cream all over the sides. Smiling, the happy couple made their way over to the vehicle, hand in hand, and bade the driver take them home.


As they lay together upon their all-too-small bed, Marron with his back to Gateau, they mulled over their memories in silence. Gateau remembered seeing his nephew and niece for the first time at the reception (before it had gone haywire, of course). Carrot had proudly shown his children to them, introducing them to Uncle Marron and Uncle Gateau. Gateau had sunk into a kneel, so that he wouldn’t seem so imposing and had greeted the little boy, Turnip, with a smile. Turnip inquired of Daddy why he had two uncles instead of an uncle and an aunt. Daddy replied that some families were different, and the matter was left at that. Then, Tira offered to let Marron hold her daughter, Toffee. Marron carefully took her and held the baby girl in his arms as if she was made of porcelain, staring adoringly down at her angelic face.

“She’s beautiful,” he had stated softly.

“That’s your Uncle Marron,” Tira cooed at her infant daughter, “Can you say ‘hi’?”

Toffee just giggled happily, extended one chubby little hand, and latched onto a bit of Marron’s hair. She tugged a bit, but all Marron could do was smile down at his little niece. His expression was priceless. It had also gotten Gateau into thinking that he might like to have a child. Mother was always dabbling into child welfare and adoption, so they might be able to get in touch with her, and put some serious thought/effort into acquiring a cherub of their own. But it was much too soon to be thinking such things. There was plenty of time for that. Gateau planned on being with Marron for a very long time...

An amused smile crossed Marron’s face as he recalled the conversation he’d had with Gateau in the limo on the way home...

“So, Marron, are you gonna keep your last name?”

“Yes, I’d prefer to. You don’t mind, do you?”

“Naw. I wasn’t planning on changing mine either. Marron Mocha and Gateau Glace both sound kinda wacky.”

“I despise that word.”

“What word?”

“Wacky.”

“Wacky?”

“It’s just a horrible-sounding word, Gateau! Wacky. I hate it.”

“Now that you mention it... So do I. Wacky. Eugh... Man, you’re right! It sucks!”

Laughter.


All of a sudden, Marron sensed a chemical change in Gateau’s aura. He felt himself grow more and more nervous as it went from a warm, molten gold, to a searing neon-white. Marron could also hear the eager chittering of a party of lust demons that were bouncing around on Gateau’s shoulders, clacking their little vulturine mandibles hungrily...

Gateau’s pulse quickened as he stared at the figure before him. So peaceful, so innocent, so... achingly tempting. Gateau felt a hunger moaning within him. It didn’t come from his stomach and it certainly did not have anything to do with food. As he was looking at Marron (and mentally undressing him), Gateau found himself ‘musing the forbidden musings’ over his gorgeous husband. Gateau couldn’t help but think that Marron, with his talented hands and agile, graceful body, would be fantastic in bed. And they were married after all...

No.

There would be plenty of time for that later. Marron was still an innocent virgin, and he probably wanted to stay that way for at least a little while longer.

Oh well. Gateau could wait. Not to say that it would be easy, but he could wait. He would wait as long as it took...

“You can if you want to.”

Hot damn and flippity joygasm! Impeccable timing, Marron. Good boy.

“What?!” Gateau breathed, a little baffled.

“You heard me,” Marron replied smoothly, rolling over onto his back and turning his head so he could face Gateau. For a long, silent moment, the older man could only stare at Marron, lost for words, almost afraid to touch his mate, who seemed to sparkle with purity...

Coming to his senses, Gateau brought himself closer to Marron, carefully taking the smaller man into his arms and pressing a kiss to his forehead. Marron sat up so that Gateau could easily remove his shirt. Gateau did just that. Once Marron’s shirt had disappeared over the side of the bed and fallen in a forgotten heap upon the floor, Gateau gently lowered his husband onto the bed. As he looked over Marron, who was topless and lying in a blissfully supine position, the younger man blushed slightly at being stared at. Gateau paused in his pursuits, his fingers frozen on the drawstring of Marron’s pants. Uncertain as to whether or not he really wanted to give Marron a chance to ‘call it off’, he asked humbly,

“Marron, are you sure...?”

Marron sighed, his golden eyes half-dimmed in contemplation, “To be perfectly honest, Gateau, I’m really not. I’m never sure about anything. But I do know that one cannot go through life, or love, dwelling upon old fears of new things. Besides...” Marron looked up at Gateau, his eyes shining, and his smile inviting as he whispered, “You never know.”

~End~



Well, thassit peeples. Good? Bad? God-awful? All three??? I'd really love ANY comments/criticisms you have for me (I spent over four months writing this monster...oy). Oh, and if you wanna see a cover pic I drew for this story, you may do so by clicking , or by going to this address (if the link don't work); http://inky.topcities.com/art/kzmcover.jpg
Anyway, I really hoped you liked this fic, because it's sort of my 'baby', and I only aim to please ^_^
Plez R/R, or email moi (SalPaws@aol.com). Thanks again ^_-






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