The Dynamics of Primitivity || A Whizzvin Fanfiction

Blackout Good Morning Texts & The Art of Forgetting || Chapter Three

Marvin's life is beginning to fall apart. He laughs at that realization.

His newest hobby is venturing to gay bars, all dressed up and his liver lubricated for a night of pure alcoholism. Fake smiles with liquor-stained teeth. It's like a masquerade, but his mask is put-togetherness.

No, Jamie doesn't know.

He downs as much as possible. If there isn't a drink to his lips, he's running his mouth to his Boy Of The Night. Then, as soon as his movements become clumsy and his vision gets hazy, Marvin welcomes the concept of forgetting with open arms. He doesn't care where he wakes up. If he's dead or alive when tomorrow comes.

That is, until one adventure unfolds in an unideal way.

Wells' morning proceeds as usual. His head throbs. His mouth still reeks of whiskey. His eyes are in pain. His memories of the previous night come up empty. Marvin smiles to himself -- what a wonderful world, one which we have the choice to inflict pain on ourselves. To feel something.

Surprisingly and suspiciously, he wakes up in his own home. In his own bed. But Marvin just assumes he must've asked a guy to take it to his own place for the night, and the man just left before he woke up.

After drinking some water and convincing himself to not be such a little bitch, Marvin turns to his nightstand. He notices his phone flashing a blue light, meaning that he received a text message. He rolls his eyes and hesitantly picks up his phone.

Marvin unlocks it and is too caught off-guard by the brightness of the light that he doesn't even remember that he's supposed to be checking for a message until the phone screen turns off automatically. He switches it on again.

Unknown Number

- hey. u probably dont have me in ur phone anymore. this is whizzer.

- u tried to hook up with me last night. i deadass almost fought u bcuz of it. but then u seemed to have no clue who i was. that's how i knew u were too drunk n just decided to take u home.

- i hope ure taking care of urself marv. maybe u should talk 2 charlotte. she's going thru something similar.

- but im glad i got away from u when i could. all the best, asshole.

Wells nearly kicked himself. Nice going, Prince Charming. You tried to hook up with the only man you ever truly loved while you were drunk out of your mind. He hates you now. You're a stupid, old alcoholic.

But then Marvin forces himself to pause. Even hungover, he tries to analyze the entire situation.

Whizzer cares about him enough to have taken him home. To question his well-being.

+++

Marvin recently recognized a flaw in himself. He craves attention. Especially from pretty boys that he thinks he doesn't deserve.

Whenever Whizzer wears his constant smug, bored face that he was once convinced just made him angry, it really just breaks his heart.

He feels tears well up and threaten to spill as his thoughts run wild in his (empty) bedroom. Marvin's lips curl pathetically as he tries to ease the knot in his throat. He recalls his own pettiness. The hurt in Whizzer's eyes that Wells refused to acknowledge as genuine. Whizzer had been the mouse. Marvin made a victim of himself.

A wail escapes his throat as a nauseous tear slides. All he wants is for Whizzer to be happy. Even if it makes Marvin miserable to be without him.

His throat itches for a drink.

Spoiler alert: Marvin would reach for a drink. He would also text that same unknown number again that night -- with drunk apologies, of course.