Chapter Text
Marvin entered his home and tossed his jacket on the couch, setting his briefcase down by his shoes.
He heard Whizzer utter a swear.
“What was that?” he asked condescendingly.
“Nothing,” Whizzer spat.
Marvin hummed, unconvinced.
“Have you made dinner?” he asked. Whizzer flipped him off from the couch.
“No. It’s not my fucking job.”
Marvin sighed and shook his head. “I ask you to do one thing around this fucking house, Whizzer. One thing!”
Whizzer stood from the couch and, despite his height, did not intimidate Marvin in the slightest.
“Newsflash, asshole: I am not your goddamn housewife!” he shouted, arms spread out at his sides, “I already cleaned this shithole. It took me all day. You can make yourself some fucking dinner!”
“I make all of the money for the both of us, you can make a goddamned meal.”
Marvin almost saw steam billowing from Whizzer’s ears.
“Oh no. You don’t get to march in here and parade your superiority because you make some money doing that stupid shit you do! All you do is sit at a desk and tell people why they should buy a stupid fucking product. I don’t even know what you sell!”
Whizzer turned away, and Marvin grabbed his wrist.
“I waited for you, Marv. I wanted to maybe go out and eat,” he seethed, “but no, Marvin has to come in here acting like a little bitch because dinner’s not fucking ready at his command!”
Marvin clenched his jaw and let Whizzer go.
“I… didn’t know,” he said softly.
“Because you don’t fucking care to listen. You just walk in and demand everything.”
“That’s not all I do.”
“Yes it fucking is!”
Now Marvin felt himself grow in anger. He thought riling Whizzer up was amusing, but now he was heated.
“No it’s not, and you know it! I take care of us! I buy the food you make! I pay for everything in this house! You just go out and act like a whore because that’s all you fucking know how to do!”
Whizzer’s face dropped, but Marvin didn’t care.
“You’re just a faggot, Whizzer! And you sure do know how to act like it, because it seems like you’ll just sleep with any man who buys you a drink!”
Whizzer was frozen and looked at his socks. Marvin was on a stampede yet, his pent-up anger from Whizzer’s own words spilling out.
“If you’re gonna be a fucking pansy about this, then go: find someone else.”
They stood there in silence for a minute or two. The tension was palpable.
Marvin couldn’t read Whizzer, as his face was still pointed at the floor. He approached gently, grabbing his lover’s hands.
“Whizzer,” he hummed, “come on.”
Whizzer pushed him away. “No.”
Marvin growled and pressed onward again, clawing at Whizzer’s shirt and trying to rip it open.
“What are you, a fucking animal in heat?” Whizzer hissed, finally looking up. His eyes were sad, and there was a bitterness Marvin had not ever seen. He must have touched a nerve. “I don’t want to fuck you! You’re an asshole!”
Marvin frowned. “Whizzer,” he cooed dramatically, “I love you.”
“No!” Whizzer yelled again, “no, you don’t! You only like me because I’m the only fucking guy who will sleep with you despite your fucking family! You know, the wife and child you fucking left behind, asshole! And for a ‘faggot,’ too. You’re no fucking better than me, Marvin.” Whizzer jabbed an accusing finger into Marvin’s chest.
Marvin gently maneuvered his hand away.
“I’m…” he swallowed, “I… didn’t mean it like that.”
Whizzer exhaled. His eyes were bloodshot. “What could you have possibly meant?” he asked quietly, a sharp contrast from his recent shouting.
Marvin stared at the floor and ran his hands through his hair.
“I…”
When he couldn’t come up with a response, Whizzer scoffed.
“Goodnight, Marvin.”
He flung himself over the side of the couch and pulled the throw blanket over himself.
Marvin walked into the bedroom, utterly alone.