Work Text:
“Wanna get drunk?”
“Excuse me?” Marvin asked, from where he lay on the couch.
“Do you want a drink I mean,” His roommate Whizzer offered him. “In my experience, liquor is the best cure for the post relationship blues.”
“I wouldn’t call it a blues,” Marvin corrected him. He repositioned himself so he could look at Whizzer in the kitchen. He was already pouring a drink from a bottle that appeared to be extremely over priced wine. At that, Marvin stuck up his nose. He’d never been much of a wine guy. Trina had loved the stuff. But he’d take some gin or beer over it anyday. “I’m fine,” He told Whizzer, which was greeted by a laugh.
“Suit yourself,” Marvin chuckled and continued to pour wine than any functioning human being needed to have at 5pm. He then proceeded to walk over to the living room and sit down on the small section that was left of the couch, so close that Marvin’s bare feet touched thigh and he could smell some sort of wood that Marvin didn’t recognize and honestly could care less about. In their one month of being roommates this was the closest the two had ever gotten. Usually if one of them was in the living room, the other was in their bedroom. They hadn’t exactly been chatty. When they do talk it’s usually Whizzer scolding him, saying things like “Hang up your clothes Marvin” because apparently not being unpacked after a month of living in one place is a crime.
“Not sad huh,” Whizzer mused. He was so casual the way he said it, as if he and Marvin weren’t so close together that if someone walked in, (and people were always barging in), they would have some questions. “Didn’t you date this girl for like, two years?”
“We hit three last month.” Marvin said, and Whizzer rolled his eyes. The condescending gesture, angered Marvin. Stirred something in his core and made his eyebrows furrow. Anger that’s what it was. What else could make his stomach turn like that, make his heart feel like it was going to fly out of his chest. “I moved out last month. We didn’t break up then. We just thought we needed some space.”
“I’m not here to judge,” Whizzer assured him. “But that sounds like a break up. Especially since you found a roommate and didn’t just crash with a friend.”
Marvin finally sat up, being so close to him was making him feel uneasy. He tucked his knees into his chest, wrapped his arms around his shins, and leaned back against the armrest. When he and Trina had “mutually” decided that Marvin should leave, he had originally tried to bunk with his friend Charlotte, but as luck would have it her fiance had just moved in and they were in their “pre-wedding honeymoon phase.” Instead Charlotte hooked him up with her fiance’s previous roommate, who was looking for someone to split half the rent, and as long as Marvin paid it for as long as he was living there, he could stay in the extra bedroom. Hence how he ended up living with Whizzer. A perfect stranger who recorded reruns of That 70’s Show and America’s Next Top Model, a show he had begrudgingly started watching when it was late and infomercials just weren’t doing it for him. He had to admit that it wasn’t half bad. He’d always loved a good competition.
“No offense, but what exactly are you doing here,” Marvin asked. “It’s Friday. Shouldn’t you be out with, what’s his name.”
“Walter or Nathan,” Whizzer asked, because of course there had been more than one guy in a month. “Doesn’t matter both of those are over. Besides, I love juicy relationship gossip. So spill. What wasn’t working?”
As Whizzer took a sip of wine, cocking a perfectly shaped eyebrow, Marvin wasn’t sure he wanted to tell him exactly what wasn’t working, and why. He loved Trina, cared for her more than any person in the world. Yet the whole time he was dating her it never really felt like a relationship, more like an extremely close friendship. He had decided early on that that would be enough for him, he could spend the rest of his life with her just the way they were. What he had not taken into account that it wasn’t enough for Trina to carry on the way they had been.
“We wanted different things,” Marvin told him. That was a lie, the problem was that they both did want the same thing. Whizzer smiled, and Marvin really couldn’t help but smile back despite of everything. This was probably the first time he’d ever really seen Whizzer smiled and really allowed himself to pay attention to all of the little details. The dimples that pull up the corners of his lip acting like small anchors, and the way his whole face lights up, and god-damn this was the kind of thing that screwed up his relationship with Trina.
“Well does this mean you are a permanent resident of the apartment?” Whizzer asked. “Because if so I think we need to talk about the dishes in the sink.”
“Dishes in the sink?” Marvin asked.
“You know the dishes you leave in the sink despite the fact that we have a perfectly functioning dishwasher right next to it,” Whizzer explained, quite passive aggressively.
“Is it really that big of a deal?” Marvin asked.
“Well, it’s kind of a disgusting habit,” Whizzer said.
“I’m in a rush in the morning.”
“Maybe if you woke up a little earlier,” Whizzer muttered,
“Oh trust me I’m awake. You blast your garbage at full volume,” Marvin complained.
“It’s indie music,” Whizzer argued.
“It’s trash,” Marvin said.
“Speaking of trash it wouldn’t kill you to take it out once in awhile,” Whizzer countered.
“Where is all of this coming from!” Marvin exclaimed. This was all extremely sudden, and he was caught off guard. Whizzer had never seem like the confrontational type to him. It was infuriating, but Marvin decided to control his emotions. He was a professional at that.
“You know what the second best cure for a break up is?” Whizzer asked, and when Marvin didn’t answer he continue. “Yelling. Yelling helps. Anyone who says it’s unhealthy is a damn idiot.”
“So...you want to me to scream at you?” Marvin asked.
“Why not. I’m a team player,” Whizzer shrugged, taking another long sip of wine, and then placing it on the coffee table, moving closer to Marvin, sitting cross legged.
Marvin didn’t want to fight him. And of all the lesser passions, he usually liked fighting the most. However fighting Whizzer seemed pretty unappealing. Doing other things with Whizzer seemed more appealing. He was sitting so close to him right now. Did this man not understand personal space. Not that he minded, he was just making it really hard for him not to do the one thing he really shouldn’t do. Whizzer sat in front of him, expectantly. What did he expect from him. The man looked sweeter than a doughnut, he had nothing against him. Except for the fact that he spent hours doing his hair. Hair that always looked perfect, without a bald spot in sight. Oh God he was so close that if he wanted to he could reach out and touch his hair. Damn these thoughts. He was smarter than this. He had some self control,
“Ah fuck it,” Marvin muttered, and he reached forward, grabbing the fabric of Whizzer’s shirt and pulling him in for a kiss. The second their lips touched, it felt like his mind was disintegrating. All there was, was Whizzer’s lips and the overwhelming taste of wine that for once he didn’t mind. Then there were Whizzers hands slowly but surely moving to his hips. He’d never known something could feel so good or so right.
They probably continued like that for a solid thirty seconds, barely stopping to take a breath, before Whizzer stopped, breaking into a fit of laughter, bumping his nose against Marvin’s causing the two of them too separate.
“That,” Whizzer said, unbuttoning the top few buttons of Marvin’s plaid shirt teasingly, “Was not yelling.”
“But it was better right?” Marvin inquired, with a dopey lopsided grin, He couldn’t help it. It was kind of like that one kiss revived him. Like he’d finally figured something out.
“Oh definitely better. In fact it’s now definitely the best way to get over a breakup,” Whizzer concluded, to which Marvin laughed in replied, and Whizzer grabbed his belt loops and pulled him in for another kiss, and fuck it if it wasn’t even better than the first time.