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A month had passed since the baseball game that changed everything. The game where Whizzer had waltzed in, looking as good as he had two years ago when Marvin had kicked him out. His hairline was receding, it had been already when they’d been together. Marvin had used to get some sick pleasure out of commenting on it. Maybe it had been the one thing he had over Whizzer. The one thing about him that wasn’t flawless. It had never bothered Marvin much. Whizzer’s hair was beautiful regardless, and it still had been at the baseball game. And it still was now, a month later, as Marvin found himself sitting opposite to Whizzer at a restaurant for the second time that week. After their meeting at the game, Whizzer had agreed to meet Marvin for dinner, and that first one turned into a second one, which then became a third and a fourth. A month had passed, and they were on their fifth dinner. Never more than that. They’d meet up at the restaurant. They’d have dinner. The first two times, Whizzer had even insisted on paying for his own meal, though after the third one he'd let Marvin cover it. Marvin understood the hesitation. Their relationship two years ago had been heavily influenced by the power Marvin had financially over Whizzer. He’d paid his rent, covered groceries, taken them out, gotten Whizzer clothes and flowers and cologne. Marvin still wanted to get Whizzer gifts. He wanted to pay for dinner. But he didn’t want to flaunt his wealth.
Marvin wasn’t sure what he’d been expecting when Whizzer agreed to go out with him. From the way Whizzer had been eyeing him up and down, he’d half expected Whizzer to only want another quick fuck out of him. But their first night had ended outside the restaurant with nothing more than a goodbye. On the third night, Whizzer had pressed a kiss to Marvin’s cheek as he left. On the fourth, Marvin had pulled Whizzer in for a quick hug. Tonight… Marvin didn’t want to push. Two years ago, their relationship had been defined by what Marvin wanted. He would yell and throw a fit whenever things didn’t go his way, and Whizzer would either comply, or leave. This time, he wanted everything to be on Whizzer’s terms. He let him pick the restaurants, the time, and he would let him decide when to take things further. If that was even something he wanted.
Their dinner ended on a pleasant note. They’d been discussing a movie both of them had seen recently, and one of Marvin’s comments had made Whizzer laugh. Not a quiet chuckle or a smile, but an out loud laugh. Something had pulled at Marvin’s heartstrings, then. A feeling so familiar that he thought he’d never feel again, back in full force just from that. Maybe the bottle of wine they’d shared had helped put them both in a more relaxed mood. The sun had gone down when they stepped outside of the restaurant, and a chill was starting to set. Marvin had fully lost track of how long they’d been in there.
“Well,” he said as they stood outside, neither making a move to leave. “Tonight was really nice.” He didn’t want the night to end. But he didn’t want to pressure Whizzer. He didn’t want to give the impression that sex was all he wanted out of this, or that he was ready to just fall back into old habits. That was the last thing he wanted.
Whizzer was close now. Close enough that two years ago, Marvin would have stepped away. Instead, he instinctively glanced around them, making sure no one was paying too close attention before looking up at Whizzer. His heart was beating fast in his chest, old flight responses still kicking in even after Marvin had worked so hard to get rid of them. Still, he steeled himself, hoped Whizzer couldn’t see in his eyes just how nervous he was. “Marvin…” Whizzer was speaking quietly. His eyes intense as he looked into Marvin’s. Their breaths were mingling, the air between them hot. “Come home with me,” he finally said. He was smiling. Oh, how Marvin had missed that smile. Marvin could do nothing more than nod, eyes captivated with Whizzer’s. And then Whizzer was holding his hand, and he was being pulled along the sidewalk and he couldn’t quite believe this was happening.
Whizzer didn’t live far. Perhaps that was why he had picked this restaurant. It was less than ten minutes before Whizzer was pulling him into a building, up five flights of stairs, and in through the front door. Marvin got just a moment to look around, taking in the surroundings before he was pressed against the door, Whizzer’s lips on his neck.
How easy would it have been to just go with it? He wanted it, god, he wanted it. He wanted Whizzer, how could he not? But as Whizzer’s hands came to his shirt, untucking it, unbuttoning, Marvin knew he couldn’t do it, he didn’t want it like that. “Whizzer… Wait.” Marvin placed two hands on his shoulders, gently nudging him away. “I don’t… could we just talk, first?” The look on Whizzer’s face was a painfully familiar one. Hurt, frustration, anger. Marvin felt like he was letting him down. “I just, I…” Communication had always failed them before. Marvin had a habit of pushing any questionable feelings far away. Two years ago, Marvin wouldn’t have stopped. Whizzer looked confused, now.
“Is there something wrong, Marvin?” His voice was controlled. Calculated. What if Whizzer didn’t want what Marvin wanted? What if all of this, all their dinners, had all been building up to just this? A quick fuck and nothing more? Marvin couldn’t live with that. Not again.
“I don’t want to do this,” he blurted out. His back was against the door, Whizzer pressed against him. He felt trapped, trapped in the same cycle he had been two years ago. Trapped in lust and want and sex, while the rest of him hid and cowered and withered away. But then, Whizzer was gone. Stepped away, putting distance between them. Marvin couldn’t read his face. His eyes were guarded. “I don’t want to do this,” he repeated, stronger this time. “Not like this. Whizzer, I… I can’t go back to how we were.”
Whizzer’s eyes softened. Just a bit. He stepped closer again. “We won’t, Marvin.”
“Could we… talk about it, first?” They’d never talked about it before. Other than stopping to ask if something was okay, or to suggest something, they’d never had a real conversation. About wants, boundaries, preferences. About anything, really. Marvin hadn’t allowed himself to think much of it, and Whizzer only brought it up when he wanted to wind Marvin up, to press him about his refusal to bottom, or to reciprocate a blowjob. Marvin hadn’t let himself think of such things, back then. They’d been too emasculating, too feminine, for him to even consider doing them. Any urges he’d had when looking at Whizzer had been pushed down and buried beneath anger, taken out on Whizzer in yelling fits and and tantrums.
“You want to talk about it?”
Whizzer sounded doubtful. Marvin couldn’t blame him, and yet it hurt that Whizzer couldn’t see how much he’d changed, how hard he was trying. Still, Marvin couldn’t blame him. After everything he’d done, all the things he’d said, Marvin could only be grateful Whizzer had given him another chance. God knew he didn’t deserve it. Marvin nodded. He wasn’t sure he could trust his voice. He wasn’t sure what he wanted to say. Whizzer must have taken pity on him.
“Come here.” He held out his hand, Marvin hesitantly took it. Whizzer pulled him along into a small living room, a two-seater couch and a tiny tv. There was a small coffee table, some fashion magazines and a camera laid out there. Marvin didn’t fail to notice the bottle of lube placed right in the middle. Clearly, Whizzer had had this in mind when he’d agreed to dinner that night. Whizzer let go of Marvin’s hand to sit down, and Marvin quickly followed. Whizzer crossed his legs, stretched his arm over the couch. His shirt riled up slightly, revealing a sliver of skin. When had he untucked it? “What’d you want to talk about, Marv?” The nickname was painfully familiar. Whizzer had never failed to bring it up when he wanted to rile Marvin up. It had always worked. Marvin fiddled with the buttons Whizzer had undone, closing them back up. This was what he wanted, this conversation needed to happen. And yet, Marvin didn’t know what to say. The instinct to run away was thrumming through his body, bouncing his leg up and down, quickening his heartbeat. He probably looked like a miserable mess.
“I… I’ve really been enjoying our dinners.” He finally said. Whizzer raised an eyebrow but said nothing. Marvin picked at his nails, pulling at loose skin. A bad habit he’d never been able to kick. He took a deep breath before continuing. “And I really like spending time with you. And I… I know last time was an absolute disaster, and it was all my fault, but I—” Marvin cut himself off. He couldn’t come off too strong. That had never failed to drive Whizzer away. Whizzer looked less composed now, but still nonchelant. This wasn’t where he’d expected the night to go. There was a loose thread on the couch. Marvin pulled at it. “I want to do this with you. You’re still… gorgeous, but I can’t have this be a one time thing. And I can’t go back to how we were.”
Whizzer was quiet for a second. Marvin desperately wanted to fill the silence, and yet he didn’t know what more he could say. Not without being too much, driving Whizzer away. Finally, Whizzer spoke. “I, uh… I wasn’t really expecting this,” he said. Marvin didn’t think he’d ever heard Whizzer hesitate. He was always so confident in what he said, in himself. “Look, Marvin, I really wasn’t looking for a relationship going into this. I thought we would… you know, have dinner, fuck, move on. What exactly were you hoping to get out of this?”
Of course, it was Marvin’s own fault. For getting his hopes up, for thinking he had a chance. Of course Whizzer wouldn’t want to give it another go. He’d gotten nothing good out of their last relationship. Marvin had gotten everything. Everything he’d ever wanted, even if he’d ruined it all for himself. For a few moments, spread far and few between, Marvin had truly been happy. More so than he’d ever been before in his life. More so than he’d been in the last two years. Marvin stood. He could tell when he wasn’t wanted. “I guess I just wanted to… to try again. To treat you how you deserve to be treated. I want to do this properly. But I understand that you don’t want that. I can’t blame you.” He tucked his shirt back in. Part of him screaming to stop, to turn back, to take what he could get. Whizzer was right there, closer than he’d been in years, and Marvin was turning away. Whizzer looked unbothered, but he’d turned his face away. A year of dating and Marvin still couldn’t read him. He never knew if Whizzer’s behavior was performative or real. He never knew what he did to make Marvin mad, or what he truly felt. “I… I appreciate you hearing me out.” Marvin turned away, hesitated, turned back. “Listen, Whizzer. I… I don’t expect this to change anything, but I need you to know that I’m sorry. For how I treated you, and all the things I said and did. It was unacceptable. I took all of my hate and anger, and… and shame, and took it out on you, and Trina and Jason. It wasn’t fair. You deserved so much better than me. And you still do. So… I wish you the best, Whizzer. Goodbye.” Maybe it had been foolish of Marvin to think Whizzer would change, that he would even want to. After all, Whizzer had always wanted to live out his promiscuous lifestyle. He’d always laughed at Marvin’s wants of settling down, of building something real. And he seemed happy. Maybe. Though Marvin never knew just how much of it was for show, just how much of Whizzer was real at all. And if Whizzer didn’t want to share himself with Marvin, if he didn’t want to build something deep, and real and meaningful, Marvin wouldn’t force him. Not again. So he walked away.
He got as far as the front door before something stopped him. “Marvin, wait.” A hand on his shoulder. Marvin turned around. Whizzer’s hand dropped. He looked nervous. He’d run his hand through his hair, breaking it out of its perfect style. Marvin remembered how protective Whizzer was of his hair, how angry he’d get when Marvin messed with it. He remembered doing it anyway, pointing out the hairline, the gray hairs, just to hurt him. Just to make Whizzer feel a fraction of the pain he would bring Marvin, as he’d come home covered hickeys and someone else’s cologne. “It wasn’t just your fault. I was horrible to you.” Marvin immediately shook his head, but Whizzer didn’t give him the chance to speak. “No, I was. You did something really brave, leaving everything you knew to… to be with me. And you were scared and alone and you needed support, and I refused to give you anything. In fact I… I spurred you on, and winded you up and put you down. I’m sorry.”
They stood, for just a moment, in complete silence. Months of treating each other horribly, of hurling insults and crossing lines, and not once had they apologized to each other. They would fuck, forget, move on, but nothing was ever resolved. No boundaries discussed, no apologies ever spoken, no feelings acknowledged at all. Finally, Marvin spoke up. “Guess we were both pretty bad at… this, huh?” It was meant to come off as light, funny. It sounded more nervous than anything.
“Yeah.” Whizzer’s answer came as an exhale, an unsure chuckle mirroring the awkward tension Marvin felt. Their first real conversation and they were already failing. Marvin didn’t know what to do. In his hours spent imagining this, going through this conversation in his head, this was never a situation he’d imagined. If the lesbians were there, they would’ve known what to do. They always did. But as it was, Marvin was alone. Alone with Whizzer and maybe half a chance at fixing the worst mistake he’d ever made. And yet he didn’t know what to do.
Whizzer was close, now. He’d stepped closer as they were talking, though Marvin could see he was mindful to keep a small distance. Marvin wondered if Whizzer’s heart was hammering just as hard in his chest as Marvin’s was. Marvin didn’t know how long they stared at each other. Eyes locked, bodies frozen, just watching each other. And then Whizzer took another step closer, and he was close enough that Marvin could reach out and put a hand on his chest. Marvin had to look up to meet his eyes. He’d forgotten the feeling of dizziness he’d gotten from looking up at Whizzer, the way his knees would go weak and his breath would catch in his throat. He’d hated it, before. Forced it down and forced Whizzer down, too. With a rough hand in his hair, or on his shirt. He’d pull him down, bend him over, push him around just to get rid of the exact feeling he was feeling that moment. Before he could stop to think it through, Marvin stepped closer.
“I think I could be better,” he murmured. The silence in the room was deafening. Marvin was afraid speaking too loud would break the moment. He’d waited too long for this moment, for this chance. “I think I am. I’m trying to be, and for you… for you, Whizzer, I will do anything.” Too strong, coming on much too strong. Marvin could already see Whizzer’s eyes hardening, could hear the scoff, feel the hands on his chest pushing him away, pushing him down. And yet, that didn’t happen. Instead, there was a gentle hand on his cheek, a thumb swiping away a tear he didn’t even know he’d shed. A voice was yelling in Marvin’s brain, telling him to man up, to hide, to stop being so pathetic. Marvin did his best to push it away.
“Marvin…”
Whizzer’s voice was soft. It rarely had been before. Marvin remembered quiet moments of peace, moment that happened and then got glossed over, pushed aside and ignored, hidden away in shame. Moments of affection, of emotion. Moments of too much to drink. A quiet morning, whispered words in the privacy of their bedroom, in the dark of the night. Few and far between, yet making it all worth it. The yelling and the screaming and the hidden away crying, all worth it for those short moments of affection, of something real. Marvin wondered if Whizzer had lived for that, longed for it just as much as Marvin had.
“Let me kiss you?”
Marvin’s breath caught, time froze. It wasn’t a demand, or an expectation, but a genuine question. Something they’d never taken the time to do before. Whizzer was looking at him hopefully, fondly, and Marvin couldn’t have said no if his life depended on it. He nodded, once, and then Whizzer was on him. So gently, he brough their lips together, his free hand moving to Marvin’s waist to pull him closer, as close as they could get. Marvin wrapped his arms around Whizzer’s neck, holding him close, caressing the skin of his neck, playing with the short strands of hair. He didn’t know how long they kissed, how long they stood, idly touching, embracing, sighing into each other’s mouths and just kissing. He knew this had never happened before. A kiss with no intention behind it, with no need to take it further, to turn quick and urgent.
At one point they were no longer kissing, simply sharing air as they rested their foreheads against each other. Marvin felt filled to the brim with… with something he couldn’t quite understand, a warm feeling he had been yearning for for so long, and yet pushing away whenever it came. He didn’t want to push it away anymore. He wanted to let it consume him, to feel it and feel Whizzer in any way, to truly be with him and to let himself be with him. If that was what Whizzer wanted.
“Whizzer,” Marvin started, pulling back just enough to breathe fresh air, to steel himself. “Do you think maybe we could… figure this out? Try again?”
Whizzer smiled. Soft and gentle and real. Marvin had gotten so used to his taunting smirks, his sadistic grins. The real smile made his heart jump. “I think I would like that,” he answered, just as quietly as Marvin had asked. He reached a hand up, and Marvin took it. “Come on,” he said, gently pulling Marvin back to the living room. “I think we have some things to talk about.”