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He Tells Me to Embrace His Attack

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he had it under control.

that’s what whizzer would tell himself in the mirror everyday, after he brushed his teeth but before he took a bath. he would stand in his and marvin’s shared bathroom and think that word over and over.

whizzer had woken up before marvin, something that only ever happened on the weekends. he put on his binder with haste, knowing that there was no one around to see him but marvin and himself, but that really didn’t make him feel any better about walking around the house without it. without it he felt angry, he felt uneasy and uncomfortable. he felt unlike himself.

he took one last look at marvin’s sleeping face, tired from last night’s activities, before smiling and assuming his place at the bathroom sink.

his teeth were clean, but his face was uncharacteristically worried. control, he reminded himself, was the most important thing. he frowned at his reflection, which didn’t help him look anymore ‘fine’ or ‘happy’ which was what he was trying to project to the world. he turned on the tap for the bath and walked back over to the bathroom mirror.

control. even though he was called ma’am over the phone a few days ago. control. even though he was still thousands in debt, meaning there was no possible way to get top surgery any time soon. control. even though he had to do his fucking testosterone shot in a minute, despite how needles made him want to vomit.

some might call it narcissistic, but looking in the mirror was an essential part of whizzer’s routine. it wasn’t one he enjoyed, however, as every second he spent gazing at his reflection was other feminine flaw found. his face was too round, his lips too plump, his eyebrows too thin! he could go on forever.

he knew logically that he was doing all he could, doing everything in his power to appear in a way that made him comfortable, but his mind refused to listen. everyone can see through it, they have to be able to see through it. they can see through every trait he’s picked up and every strategically shaped shirt to minimise any curve whatsoever.

the bath was dangerously close to overflowing. whizzer didn’t care.

pure nausea flooded whizzer’s stomach, his throat closing up. breath struggled to leave his body and his knees felt weak. it wasn’t painful. no, it wasn’t just painful. it was nauseating. god, he was going to die like this. he was going to die like this, and there was nothing he could do about it! there’s no person, no book, no academic paper that could convince him otherwise, this was what his last moments on earth would look like.

there was a sudden feeling of warmth on his chest, and it came in the form of marvin’s hand. whizzer found himself clinging to this warmth with his entire being as the faint rush of water in the background of his mind cave to a halt. fuck, he’d forgotten about the bath. he opened his eyes (he hadn’t even remembered closing them) to see a wide-eyed marvin, and immediately burst into tears.

he felt arms around him. he heard words like ‘babydoll’ and felt another heartbeat against his skin, a lot slower than his own. he let his eyes close.

“you’re okay with me, angel.”

“hm..?” whizzer murmured sleepily, still in too much shock to feel embarrassed. when his head cleared enough to let him feel anything other than pure anxiety anymore, the shame settled in.

“i- i’m fine marvin, please don’t worry about-“

“no, you’re not. but if you let me take care of you you’ll be okay.”

he took another look at marvin and broke down again. marvin had stopped hugging him but was still holding his hand, and was leading him to their room, to their bed. to whizzer’s surprise, his legs did work, and he made it there with little trouble.

“whatever you need, i’ll get it for you.” was what was whispered into whizzer’s ear as he sat down on the bed.

“you don’t need to get me any-“

“i really do.” marvin was persistent.

“well- okay. some water please?”

“that’s it?”

“yeah.” whizzer paused to think. “actually, wait. a hug too.”

marvin smiled and held him close for a few more seconds, before leaving and heading for the kitchen. whizzer’s eyes didn’t leave him until he left the room.

fucking hell, whizzer thought, he was lucky to have him.