Chapter Text
Whizzer, simply put, was not having a good day.
Usually, he loved his job. Being a photographer was all he’d ever wanted to do. He’d had this passion for as long as he could remember. Though the job was a bit unreliable at times, he had no regrets over his career choice.
Today was not one of those days.
He’d been harassed by ignorant clients who couldn’t be bothered to read the “by appointment only” sign hung outside the door. He'd gotten spit on by a young child with one of the families he was taking an Easter portrait of. He had to fight with a customer who refused to pay in advance (even though that’s what it said in the fucking contract they signed). He didn’t even get a lunch break dealing with all this. He was starving, tired, and looking forward to flopping facedown on the bed and sleeping for about 10 business days.
So when he finally got there after walking five blocks and saw Marvin standing at his front door, he was about ready to jump in front for the nearest car right then and there.
“So where the hell were you?” Marvin leaned up against the doorframe, pointing to his watch. “Late again, hm?”
Whizzer sighed and stepped towards his front door. “It’s none of your business. Now move.”
Marvin stepped to the right and blocked Whizzer from reaching the doorknob. “It is when you tell me to come to your apartment at three o’clock and you’re not here until three forty-five. So come on, out with it. Where were you?”
“Marvin- just drop it. You can go home now, I’m tired and I wanna go to bed, I’m not up for anything right now. Sorry to bring you out here for nothing, okay?” He pushed him off to the side and unlocked the door, stalking inside.
Marvin followed him inside and shut the door behind him. “Fine, I’ll go. After you give me an explanation and tell me why I had to wait an extra hour for you to get here.”
Whizzer flopped facedown on the sofa. It wasn’t as relaxing as he thought it’d be. The grown man throwing a tantrum right next to him was definitely not helping matters. “I said, drop it. I don’t want to talk about it and I don’t owe you anything.”
“Fucking someone else, huh? Whoring around per usual? That’s what got you so exhausted, isn’t it?” Marvin’s mocking voice struck a nerve and Whizzer sat up.
“No, for your information, and even if I was I don’t see how that has any-fucking-thing to do with you.”
“So what then, if it wasn’t that, which I doubt. Where. The hell. Were. You?”
“I swear to god, Marvin can you shut the *fuck* up for 2 minutes?!” Whizzer pushed himself off the couch and whipped around to face him. “I was at work, having a shitty fucking time, kinda wanting to quit right then and there, if telling you will shut you up. It’s none your business where I am every minute of every day. I’m not your fucking ward.”
He continued, finally having reached his breaking point. “And who the hell are you to judge me even if I was with somebody else? I told you straight from the start. I don’t stay with one person, I’m not tied to anyone, and I am not your fucking property! And still, you calling me a whore for being 'unfaithful' even though you’re doing the same damn thing.”
Marvin raised his eyebrows and glared. “What the hell are you going on about?”
“Your wife? The one you aren’t attracted to but stay with for appearances? That one? Yeah, that seems a little ‘whorish’ to me, fucking around whenever your wife isn’t looking. You're so hypocritical, it'd be hilarious if it weren't so damn sad.”
“First off, that’s a completely different situation.” Marvin brushed him off. “And second I am too attracted to her! She’s my wife, how couldn’t I be?”
“Oh, here's an idea, just putting this out there: you’re a raging queer who’s so deep in the closet he couldn’t find his way out with a fucking flashlight?”
Marvin gritted his teeth, agitated. “I am not a fucking queer. We’ve been over this.”
“Then why are you here? Why are we in my apartment right now? Why are we hooking up every other day while she’s at work, huh?”
“I have a kid! I’m married. I have a family, Whizzer. I can’t be gay.” He spoke as if he was trying to convince himself more than Whizzer.
“Oh, so you’re exactly like every other closet case in New York City? Why are you risking your marriage, your son, your family for this if you’re not gay? You have to admit it to yourself. And I for one am sick and tired of watching Trina drive herself insane trying to get your approval. When you don’t even give her the time of day because you’re not attracted to her. You don’t love her, Marvin, and she deserves to be with someone who can.”
“What are you talking about, I do love her-”
“You know what I meant, Marvin. You love her, but not how you’re supposed to. I know you know the difference,” he said, stern. Then, his voice got softer, more sympathetic. “You can’t keep doing this. You’re killing each other. There’s no universe where the two of you end up happy because you’re gay. You’re as gay as I am, and I promise if you keep putting yourself through this, you're going to be miserable."
Marvin faulted and looked at him, and for a split second, Whizzer could see his real feelings. The snarky, assertive exterior he always showed fell away for a moment. It was there only for an instant, and the walls were quickly put back up but Whizzer had already seen. Marvin was terrified of what this meant, of what was next and he didn’t know what to do. He was scared.
"I know, what it's like, I've been there." Whizzer continued, trying to get through to him. "It gets better, Marvin, but you have to take the first step and admit it.”
“You’re fucking crazy,” Marvin scrambled to the door, almost running. He reached the doorknob, then turned. “And I am not queer, so get that out of your head right now.”
The door slammed with a loud bang and Whizzer heard his neighbor pounding on the wall yelling at him to keep it down.
Even more exhausted than before, he walked over to the couch, lied down, and fell into a restless sleep.