Crack Attack: A Collection of One-Shots and Other Disturbing Shit

Candyman (Midgerome)

This one-shot is my entry into TBNRjasmine's Midge crack-ship contest. This story is set in the alternate universe of "Her."

Warning: If you have not read any smut or if you try to avoid sexually explicit content, please skip this chapter.

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"Hey, Mitch."

"Yeah?" So he's in his office trying to be productive again. We'll fix that, friendarino.

"You hungry?"

"Nah, dood. I'll grab dinner after... I finish this." Who's he kidding? He's always hungry. The guy's like a fuckin' garbage disposal, the way he noms his way through the fridge like the Roomba. Truth is, half of Alex's job is keeping up with the dishes Mitch piles up in the sink like a fucking hoarder. I'm sick of being his maid. It's not splitting the work if ninety-percent of it isn't yours. You'd think we were running a car wash in here with all the dish soap we use. No, he's hungry – he just doesn't know it yet.

I pull open the door to the fridge and look around for something that'll go good with my new get-up. It takes a couple seconds for my eyes to find something worthwhile and I catch myself rearranging my junk for the hundred thousandth time. There's no good way to wear this damn thing, is there? I shoulda bought a large instead of a medium but when you're trying to find a sexy ass costume at Party City two days after Halloween, you can't be too picky. I just hope I still have balls after I take this fucking lace thong off. I finally see the bright blue can of tasteless fat-free whipped cream Mitchell the senseless health freak bought for the ice cream challenge we ended up not posting and I grab it and shake it up. Goes real nice with the white lacey frills on my skirt. Maybe Rob's fancy ass design skills are rubbin' off on me. I should get that checked out.

"Mitch?" There's no answer and I bet he's got his ear buds in so he can't hear me anymore. "Meeeetch?!" Yep, nothing. This's even more perfect than I thought it'd be. I pull the little mini-sleeves back up to the middle of my biceps because they can't fit up over my shoulders and I loosen up the ribbon in the corset part in the front so my nips won't hang out. Don't wanna give him too much too soon, ya know? I shake the whipped cream up a little more and walk in his office, silently shutting and locking the door behind me. No need for Alex to walk in and ruin our fun times.

Mitch is wearing a half-zipped hoodie and swim trunks and he's slumped forward on his desk with his hand holding his head up and his dork glasses on so he won't have to squint at the screen. He's still doing off-camera grinding for something on the How to Minecraft server and I bet fifty bucks he's doing whatever it is on our side of the map, the sneaky bastard. If it wasn't for him and his little troop of minions, the two sides'd be at peace, at least until Preston and Kenny got somethin' up with their asses and decided to go conquer the whole fucking world again. I carefully balance the freezing cold can of whipped cream between my thighs under the skirt and slowly walk up behind him, putting my hands on his shoulders and givin' 'em a good ol' rub. He leans back into it like he likes it for a second, then he turns and looks up at me with those big, light brown eyes and an evil little grin. If that's not guilty looking, I don't know what is. That's when he sees my dress and my white thigh-high stockings and his eyebrows shoot up in confusion.

"What the fuck are you doing, Jerome?"

"Can't a Bac just be nice to his Benj for a day?"

"You're standing in my office half-dressed in a silk maid costume. What do you want?"

"You know what I want, sugar daddy. I want you to be my candyman." He looks me up and down and he laughs. But he likes what he sees. He pinches the bridge of his nose and takes his glasses off and turns to log out of the server and, sure enough, the chat log is full of notifications of him and Sidearms crossing back and forth to our side. Goddammit, Mitch.