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When Marvin and Whizzer first met, neither were healthy.
After all, Marvin was stuck in a loveless marriage with a son who seemed to hate him, overwhelmed by the stress of trying to both hide and indulge his homosexuality. He was snide and cruel at times, lashing out rather than admit to his own faults for fear of seeming weak. He was miserable, and he drank far more than he should at seedy little bars.
Whizzer was no better. He’d moved to New York at the age of 19 when an indiscreet boy back home in the Midwest gave him away and got him thrown out of the house. 8 years later, he’d learned how to live on nearly nothing, how to steal and fight and what closeted businessmen liked to see in a hotel room. But Whizzer was snarky and he was self assured; the men who bought him nice clothes and food didn’t stick around for long, and Whizzer learned to how stomach rich steak for dinner one night and nothing else for two days following.
When Marvin met Whizzer, one was tipsy and horny and the other spied the nice looking wallet. Both expected it to be a one off, to have the bad parts of themselves stop anything before it could start.
10 months later, it ended up being a stupid game of chess that tore them apart.
So they parted ways. Marvin’s hands trembled in self loathing when he thought of how he treated Trina and Whizzer, and he vowed to be better. He found new friends, he learned to apologize and he admitted to his faults. He learned to grow up and appreciate what he had, and what he lost. Try as he might, no other man could replace Whizzer in those two years.
Whizzer fell back into old habits out of necessity. He no longer had Marvin paying for his clothes and meals and giving him a place to live. Though he had tried to ignore it, Marvin had always been more than a warm bed. The man had his gentle moments that had made Whizzer’s chest ache and made his head spin, and God, he loved him. But they were over, and the love couldn’t help him now. Whizzer learned how to go without meals again, how to trick rich men into paying him and nursed a few bruises and split lips from picking the wrong men. But he missed Marvin, and he missed Jason. He missed the closest thing to a family he had ever known.
Two years later, Whizzer’s photography just about supports him, and in the tiny apartment he shares with two other people, he gets a call on the phone. Though he was supposed to be meeting a man for lunch, Jason’s invitation to come to the baseball game has him dropping his plans and asking for directions to the field in an instant.
When Marvin and Whizzer meet again after two years, they’re healthier. They’ve recovered, they’ve grown and when Marvin asks for his number and holds onto his jacket as Jason hits a home run, they remember what they missed so dearly.
Though neither is proud to admit it, they make out in the bathroom at the baseball field and Whizzer comes over for dinner that night.
Marvin isn’t in the house that he once shared with Trina, but a nice enough two bedroom apartment. The lesbians live next door, and there’s a small backyard where a few scattered baseballs lay.
“Jesus,” Whizzer laughs as he looks at the messy apartment. “You really have been living like a bachelor.”
“Half of this mess is Jason’s.” Marvin defends himself. “He’s here on the weekends. Never cleans up.”
“He’s 12, Marv.”
“Yeah,” and Marvin smiles with such warmth that it nearly takes Whizzer’s breath away. “Still needs to pick up after himself.”
Whizzer rolls his eyes and looks at the table that’s covered with mail and scattered belongings. Marvin is leaning his hip against it, arms crossed and his hair ruffled. He almost doesn’t look like the man Whizzer used to know; he’s somehow softer now. In his baggy slacks and red zip up, he looks more like a dad than ever, and something stirs in the pit of Whizzer’s stomach. So he blinks slowly, licks his lips and says, “What’s for dinner?”
Marvin shifts, swallowing as his eyes drag across Whizzer’s face and chest and finally look to the kitchen with almost helplessness. He turns to the table and uncovers a pile of takeout menus and holds them up, his cheeks tinged pink. The sight sends a chill down Whizzer’s spine as memories of Marvin’s passion flushed skin flood his mind, and he has to shift his legs.
“Take your pick.”
Whizzer snorts. “Chinese food is no way to seduce a man.” That’s a lie, but Whizzer wants to see how far he can take this; though he’s not complaining about this newer, softer Marvin, it was the light in his eyes and the fight in his soul that had once attracted Whizzer to him. As much as he loved Marvin in quiet, gentle moments, he craved the fierceness all the same.
Marvin doesn’t scramble for a different menu, doesn’t back down. He frowns a little and his eyes go soft. “Who said I’m trying to seduce you?” He worries his lip between perfect teeth and Whizzer breathes deep.
“Whiz, I don’t know what you’re looking for this time around. But I’ve been waiting two years to see you again, and I’m not gonna lie.” Marvin gives a little laugh. “I’m a messy divorcee who eats too much takeout. I’m not trying to seduce you because well, I’m still in love with you.” He shakes his head and rubs at the back of his neck. “I...understand if you don’t feel the same way. But can you give me the chance to try and change that?”
Whizzer is frozen, staring at his former lover. Marvin had laid himself out, his heart flayed open for Whizzer to see. His brows are drawn as he looks to Whizzer for a reaction, and Whizzer finally grins, ducking his head and nodding.
“Chinese food is fine.” He says, and he closes the space between them to kiss Marvin.
Whizzer moves in a week later. He becomes friends with Charlotte and Cordelia, and the doctor complains to him about Marvin only when the man is within earshot, grinning wickedly as he rolls his eyes.
“Whizzer, he’s been eating takeout nearly every day. I’m not his doctor, but I won’t be surprised if he has a stroke at the door one morning. If I see one more pizza box, I just might kill him myself.” Charlotte laughs when Marvin makes a rude gesture and Whizzer smiles into his glass of wine. They’re at the lesbians’ apartment for dinner and chatting, and though it’s a small group, he feels more surrounded by good friends than he ever has.
“You need vegetables!” Cordelia squeezes Marvin’s shoulder with a smile. “And something other than wine to wash your food down with.”
Marvin pointedly drains his glass as he sits down next to Whizzer on the couch, his hand curling around his thigh.
“Listen, I’ve been trying.” Whizzer laughs. “I made dinner when Jason was over for the weekend and the poor kid looked close to tears, he was so glad to have something other than pizza.”
“You’re gonna get a gut if you keep it up, Marv.” Cordelia teases. “Just because you are a dad, doesn’t mean you have to look like one.”
“Whizzer loves my dad bod.” Marvin looks to his boyfriend for confirmation and though Whizzer does honestly love it, he knows that Marvin could use a better diet. So he avoids his eyes with a smirk and snickers when Marvin is outraged.
The next day, Marvin gets home and Whizzer gives him a flyer. A racquetball court had just been added to their local gym and starting tomorrow, they’d be visiting it.
Together, they begin to get better. Marvin learns to cook a little and Whizzer buys more fresh vegetables. They cook dinner together in the kitchen, sometimes with the radio on, and other times the sounds of their work fill the air. Marvin takes the leftovers for lunch instead of having coffee and Whizzer swears that he’s practically glowing. Though Jason isn’t keen on it, he’s willing to have anything over pizza for his Friday night dinner again and Marvin is smug when Trina finds out that he somehow got their son to eat broccoli.
The racquetball pays off too. Though Marvin always had strong arms, his chest and shoulders broaden with muscle and Whizzer feigns sleep some mornings to watch Marvin dress. The power in his legs takes a little longer, but when Marvin pins Whizzer to the bed one night with just his thighs, he very nearly comes undone on the spot.
Marvin readily admires the change in Whizzer’s form as well. Though Whizzer had always been lean, often it was unhealthy, due to nights where his measly check couldn’t afford dinner. He didn’t drive like Marvin did, and there wasn’t always money for transportation, leaving him with no choice but to walk most places. Where Whizzer had once been lean muscle underneath tanned skin, he began to fill out, gaining a little weight from regular eating. His cheeks rounded and when he smiled, Marvin could feel his heart swell. When Whizzer slept, Marvin couldn’t help but run his fingers down his lover’s face, mapping the contours and lines and wishing to kiss them all.
Whizzer had moved in with Marvin in late spring, just a few games into Jason’s baseball season. It’s months later, after Jason finishes baseball and Whizzer and Marvin have fallen into newer, healthier routines that he notices it.
After Marvin has left for work one morning, Whizzer enters the bathroom to shower. It’s the height of summer and even with the air conditioning, warm and humid in the apartment. Standing in front of the mirror, Whizzer examines his face and body, and a spot near his armpit catches his eye. He pauses and lifts his arm, turning it to stare.
It’s not very large, but Whizzer is certain it wasn’t there before. It’s a dark red mark but it doesn’t hurt, and Whizzer can only frown as he looks at it. He’s been eating his greens, so what’s up with this?
He wracks his brain, wonders if there’s any medical jargon he knows that could describe it. Charlotte hasn’t described anything new at work, and he finally grumbles as he goes to shower. There’s a clinic not far from the apartment and it would be far quicker than going to the actual hospital. Besides, Whizzer is positive that he’s fine. Medical confirmation is just a precaution.
It takes a few hours out of his day, but he goes and gets it checked out. The doctor tells him not to worry and that he’ll hear back in a few days. Marvin comes home looking heat exhausted, and rather than force him to play racquetball, they find exercise in other ways.
True to his word, the doctor calls Whizzer two days later and reports that he has Kaposi’s sarcoma. While it is skin cancer, it’s benign and should cause him no problems. The doctor tells him to keep eating healthy and exercising, and to come back if anything should arise.
It eases the worry in his heart, and Whizzer forgets about it until the weekend. Jason doesn’t come by on Friday, instead attending a sleepover at a friend’s house. Despite his complaints, Whizzer forces Marvin off the couch and says that they’ll play racquetball tonight to make up for the last one they missed.
Whizzer wants to shower beforehand, and Marvin throws on his gym clothes as he patiently awaits his lover. Whizzer takes his time, letting the water cool him down and grinning wickedly as he walks around their bedroom nude, looking for his shorts.
“We were supposed to leave an hour ago.” Marvin says from the doorway, leaning against it and smirking. Whizzer rolls his eyes as he pulls on his shorts.
“You like watching me dress, so shut up.”
“Hm, true.” Marvin grins as he walks into their room, going to snake his hands around Whizzer’s middle. He stops, and his finger points to Whizzer’s arm.
“What’s that?”
Whizzer looks down at the spot on his arm and shrugs.
“Oh! I went to the doctor’s. It’s a rare type of skin cancer.”
Marvin jerks back, the humor and color gone from his face. He grabs Whizzer by the wrist and turns his arm to get a better look.
“ Cancer? ” Whizzer is quick to kiss him and pat Marvin’s hand, giving him a smile.
“It’s benign , Marvin.”
Marvin drops Whizzer’s wrist with a huff, rolling his eyes as Whizzer grabs his shirt and begins to pull it on.
“You had me worried!” He complains, and helps Whizzer to pull on his polo when it gets stuck on his head. Whizzer grins and kisses him again.
“Oh Marv, please. I’m a man in my prime!”
“You’re an ass.” Marvin corrects, and he finally smiles when Whizzer pulls him in close and brushes their noses.
“And you love it.”
“God help me, I do.”
Marvin wins two games that night, but he doesn’t gloat or brag. Instead he kisses Whizzer hard when they get home, and they leave a trail of sweat soaked clothes in the hallway in their frenzy. Marvin confesses his love over and over, through moans and breathless pants and when it’s over, he holds Whizzer in his arms and just watches him, his fingers trailing over the marks on his neck and chest, and his eyes lingering on the spot on his arm.
Whizzer wakes to Marvin’s loving gaze and holds up the comforter, allowing him to slip further beneath the sheets and hold him tightly.
Whizzer is no longer healthy two months later.
Though it was gradual, Marvin notices the weight loss. He notices how Whizzer’s appetite diminished, how his eyes grew heavy and his cheeks looked more sunken. More spots appeared but Whizzer told him over and over, they’re benign, Marvin.
When Whizzer collapses during their game of racquetball, and when he’s admitted to the hospital, Marvin is sure to tell Charlotte about the spots. Her expression is tight with ill disguised dread, but she tells him, it’s supposed to be benign .
Watching his lover die is hell. Whizzer can’t breathe with his pneumonia and he’s constantly nauseous, the weight dropping from his frame ever more. He can hardly stay awake some days, his voice cracking with weakness as he lays there and begs for Marvin to go to work. He lives for the bar mitzvah, and Jason has hardly finished his prayers before Whizzer is dropping in Marvin’s tight grip and reaching for Jason and mumbling thank you.
Whizzer passes away, and Marvin doesn’t get out of bed for a week.
When he finally drags himself up, it’s to return to work. He has no choice if he wants to keep his job, and he’s so numbed over that the threat of unemployment nearly doesn't reach him.
That morning before work, he gets up and looks in the mirror. His hair is stringy with grease and he’s pale, his own face thin from the grief of losing the only man he could ever love.
And on his neck, there’s a red spot.