Work Text:
Whizzer groaned, blinking as he woke up to Marvin’s alarm, hitting him in the head lightly to wake him up.
“What the hell, Whizzer?” Marvin snapped, trying to hit him back. Whizzer dodged it easily.
“Your alarm’s beeping. You never wake up to it.” He sighed, slipping out of bed and slipping off his boxers from the night before, tossing them in the laundry bin. “I’m going to shower. Turn that thing off, will you? It’s giving me a headache.”
He heard Marvin go to respond, but he closed the door sharply behind him, officially ending the conversation.
His time in the shower was the only time he truly got any piece of mind while Marvin was in the house. Otherwise, he was just waiting for the inevitable moment where Marvin burst in, having found something to be upset with him about. So he turned on the shower faucet, stepping in and allowing himself to think about nothing, the white noise of the pitter-patter of water hitting ceramic filling his brain instead as he washed himself down.
And, as he expected, it was hardly a minute after he slipped out of the shower and into his bathrobe before Marvin opened the bathroom door with a little too much force than what was necessary. Whizzer didn’t spare any attention, choosing to keep his focus on his hair rather than the man standing behind him, fuming.
“Get out,” Marvin demanded, crossing his arms. Whizzer cringed as he heard the faint grind of his teeth.
“I’m doing my hair, Marvin. And don’t do that, your teeth will fall out.”
“My teeth won’t- get out of the bathroom and let me take a shower, Whizzer!”
He sighed, giving Marvin a halfhearted glance before placing his comb down and pulling out his hairspray. “You can take a shower just fine with me here. I’ve seen you naked plenty of times.”
“I want privacy!”
“And I want to do my hair,” Whizzer huffed, grabbing hair gel and beginning to lather his hair in it. “I don’t just wake up looking as pretty as I am in the afternoon. If you want something cute to fuck, you have to give me a few moments of your time in the morning. Does that sound okay, dollface?”
Marvin grabbed onto the wrist that Whizzer was combing through his hair with and yanked it out of reach. Whizzer tugged it back without much effort. “You’re acting like a child, Marvin.”
“I just don’t understand why you have to inconvenience me in the morning to do this! You don’t even have a job, you can spend this time getting a nice breakfast on the table instead of taking an hour doing your hair while I could just have a comfortable morning!”
Whizzer sighed, smiling to himself once he got his hair to a position he liked and grabbed his hair spray again. He squeezed his eyes shut, spraying all around until he was comfortable with the amount he’d put on.
“And that stuff is disgusting. It smells like shit, and it gives me a headache.”
“Oh. Like your alarm does to me?” Whizzer remarked, keeping his voice at a carefully calm level. It was so much more fun to watch Marvin lash out while he simply watched, refusing to give him the fight he was begging for.
“Don’t be a dick,” Marvin muttered. Whizzer sprayed a bit more, just to make Marvin fume, but as Marvin reached up, going to grab at it, Whizzer turned it around and sprayed a generous amount right into Marvin’s face, clenching his teeth. “What the hell-!” Marvin yelled, throwing an arm up to guard his eyes and coughing when Whizzer hummed and put it down, crossing his arms. “You can’t- Christ!”
“What's wrong, Marvin? Is it giving you a headache?” Whizzer asked sweetly, tilting his head and pouting.
“You got that in my eyes, you asshole! Jesus!”
Whizzer burst out laughing, holding his weight on the sink as he doubled over. “A little hairspray hurt you this bad? Maybe I should just carry a bit of this around instead of spending so much on mace for whenever I have to walk home drunk.”
Marvin groaned, pressing the heels of his hands into his eyes. “It stings,” he admitted, huffing. “Are you done now? Can I wash this out of my eyes?”
Shrugging, Whizzer checked the clock. “You should probably call in late to work, Marvin. Claim you’ve got a migraine and don’t trust yourself to drive until the Advil kicks in, because there is no way you’re making it on time now.”
And with that, he kissed Marvin on the cheek and left the room to make a brew of coffee for himself—and Marvin, if it was still warm by the time he was ready.
Marvin slugged out of their room a while later, teeth still clenched as the wrinkles he always got when he was awake, that always seemed to smooth out as he slept, lay etched onto his face. Deciding the coffee was still warm enough, Whizzer poured him a mug and set it in front of him, beginning to feel a little remorse from their fight that morning. Marvin glanced up at him, sighing. “Will you make me some toast?” He asked quietly. It was the first time Marvin had ever asked for him to do something. This wasn’t demanding. This was a hidden plea.
“Just this once,” Whizzer murmured, turning around to keep from giving Marvin a gentle smile.
He put some bread in the toaster, glancing over at Marvin from the kitchen. His eyes were bright red, and he couldn’t help but laugh. He took a washcloth and soaked it in cold water, before walking over and tilting his head back. “Let this rest on your eyes for a minute, unless you want to look like you were late for work because you were doing weed,” he chuckled, placing the washcloth over his eyes just as the toaster popped. He put the two pieces on a plate and buttered them, then cut a banana into a few slices, spreading them out on the plate and bringing it over to Marvin. His eyes were back to normal now, and the air was refreshingly light between them. Whizzer sat across from Marvin and sipped at his coffee as he watched Marvin eat.
Once he was finished and Marvin was heading for the door, Whizzer quickly caught up to him. “You have therapy after work,” he murmured, going to work on his crooked tie. “So let’s make a deal, hm? You buy me some roses from that nice little flower shop next to Mendel's building, and I’ll cook you dinner tonight. If not, you can either cook for yourself, or we can go out to eat. Or you can starve, but I don’t think you’d last a day trying a hunger strike. Have a good day. Try not to be a dick to any of your coworkers.”
And with that, he finished fixing his tie, gave him a soft kiss, and handed him his briefcase as he walked out the door.