Late December, 1978~ A Falsettos Fanfiction

Dawn [Go Away]

When Marvin wakes up, he stretches luxuriously and notices the empty side of the bed. Whizzer is gone. He probably went out somewhere and didn't want to wake him.

Which, you know, is totally fine.

He takes a glance at the room in the light of the cracking dawn, the candles that were burning last night have been blown out. The radio last night isn't playing music anymore, a blessing and a curse, because now it's completely silent, and the songs playing were not Marvin's type at all. The open curtains that weren't open last night for privacy. The part of the floor that was covered with Whizzer's clothes last night but have been picked up and put in the washing machine of the apartment's basement, probably.

Now the room just looks sad.

Who knows. Maybe he's taking a shower.  Or he could be in the bathroom, that's always possible. Maybe he got hungry and couldn't wait for Marvin to wake up. Maybe he had to fix his hair.

Maybe he's being screwed by someone else. Right in this very moment.

Maybe he didn't like Marvin, and just left.

He seems like the person who would do such things.

Marvin looks out the window that overlooks the strangest and yet most lovely city to exist, and watches as the sun slowly rises over his hometown. He tries not to think about what Whizzer could be doing, and admires this waking city.

He doesn't want today to happen.

He doesn't want to go back to his apartment and pretend like nothing happened last night. He doesn't feel like ruining his family. He doesn't want to leave Trina on the verge of breaking down. He doesn't want to drive Jason more crazy than he's sure he already is.

He just wants to stay in this apartment forever, with this man, (who may or may not be in this apartment right now) in this kind of lifestyle.

He wants to live like none of his problems exist and be in a paradise for the rest of his life.

But that's not possible. That's not how life works at all.

He sighs and takes the messy blankets off his naked body, hearing a door in the apartment open and close.

He almost smiles across his whole face.

Thank God he wasn't doing any of the weird shit he thought he was doing. He's just at home, and woke up early, not wanting to wake Marvin.

He waits in bed for Whizzer to come back, wondering what he's doing. He closes his eyes and imagines him doing something fancy with his hair, or taking a long and relaxing shower. Maybe he just came back from burning another incense cone or lighting another candle.

Then the bedroom door opens, and his eyes jolt open. He subtly watches his him walk in the room from behind.

When Whizzer comes back, nothing but a small, white towel wrapped around his toned body and dripping hair, Marvin can almost feel his heart pound faster and faster at the sight.

His hair is so pretty when it's wet, though wet hair is such a pain, it flops onto his forehead and drips down his face. He's panting, like a dog, almost. In and out, he breathes, every breath is loud and sexy, and he repeatedly licks his soft yet slightly cracked lips.

Marvin didn't notice how good Whizzer's body was until now. His body is tan, all the way- tan, tan, tan. His stomach is almost as flat as board, Marvin can tell when he watches him look in the mirror.

He takes his towel off, either aware or unaware of Marvin's eyes on him, and glances at his perfect figure. He runs his hands down his stomach, saying, "Fucking disgusting," to himself.

Interesting. Marvin thought a man as pretty as Whizzer wouldn't point out his imperfections, until now. He doesn't even have any, his body is perfect, what is he seeing that Marvin isn't seeing?

Then he works his way down to his firm, muscular thighs. He pokes one of them, until a white mark appears on it. "Oh my fucking God," he gasps. "Oh shit,"

If he thinks he's fat, he's losing his mind.

Someone as perfect as Whizzer should not be doing this in their mirror.

Then he walks to his scale, and looks down, his fingers crossed so hard they're a weird, pink color.

"145? Fucking kill me, this can't be happening."

He steps off and presses his fingers to his temples. He's still stark naked, and looks at Marvin's eyes plastered on his. "Oh, didn't know you were up. Sorry you had to hear all that shit." He stops, then walks to the bed. Sits down. Sits like he's a cat in a windowsill.

Marvin looks down at Whizzer's smooth arms and legs. He's so pretty up close, if you didn't already know. "It's- It's okay, I guess."

"Anyways, want breakfast? Or is breakfast not your thing?"

"Uh," he doesn't really know what to say. All he does is try to push the past events into the back of his mind and pray that Trina isn't going to be upset when he gets back. "Do you know what time it is?"

Whizzer makes a face, but reluctantly looks at the clock above his bed. "7:53, in a rush?"

"Oh God!" He jolts out of bed and hurries to put his clothes on. "I'm so sorry, you don't even have my number! I hope we can see each other again, I really do, but-" he buttons his shirt up, and checks his slobby-closeted-gay-dad-who-doesn't-want-to-come-off-as-a-twink-because-of-fragile-masculinity appearance in the mirror. "I'll see you soon, I just have to be home as soon as possible. Bye!" He slips his shoes on and runs out of the apartment, his mind racing a mile a minute.

When he's reached the outside of the surprisingly nice apartments, he doesn't hesitate to walk home, instead of being reasonable and boarding a subway.

He doesn't have the motivation to board a subway in his shitty thrift store clothes that now have a mixed scent of incense and cheap shampoo from being in Whizzer's apartment all night. It's almost 8 AM, it's too early to be judged by the public.

You know what else it's too early for? Processing the fact that Whizzer is now a distant memory, and it's all Marvin's fault. He should've just asked for his number and gone on with his unsatisfied, boring life. Or even better, told him he loved him and that he'd love to see him again, but with the situation he's in, it'll never work out.

So, in conclusion, even if he did have that pretty boy's number, he'd never have the time to call him, because he has a busy yet unfulfilling life. His wife always nagging him to do something, his stupid job as a stupid radiologist, his crazy son always having something new to gripe about.

When he reaches East 15th, he puts his hands in his pockets. He feels a piece of paper in the right pocket, and his heart stops beating for a second. He had nothing in his pockets last night, no microscopic slips of paper in either one.

He pulls it out, his hands trembling.

《Here's my number hoe~
Whizzer Brown- (xxx)-xxx-xxxx
Call me soon, anytime. If I don't answer then that means I'm doing something important for once. Anyways,
I love you so much, even if you're a closet queen. ♡♡♡》

His eyes water as he reads the note and lets it sink in. Whizzer must've put it in his jacket while he was sleeping, and that sends Marvin into a twister of thoughts, emotions, and extremely repressed feelings.

He heaves a sigh, and jogs to his apartment. It's not too far from here, just a couple more blocks and he can fantasize about what Whizzer and make up bad excuses as to why he just got back from his 'late night meeting'.

He wishes this stupid day to come would leave him the fuck alone.