whole and happy
He’s never done something this slow before. Something this calm. It happens over entire weeks. Proper dates, to the fair and the movies and coffee shops and even proper fancy restaurants. Walks home and quicks kisses goodbye. Holding hands, once it’s dark enough. Whizzer takes Marvin to the stonewall inn. Marvin looks like a kid at purim the whole time. Halfway through the night one of the queens pulls Whizzer up to dance, which he does. Marvin watches the whole time, grinning and laughing, all the while with that soft look in his eyes. The queen spins Whizzer around, dips him, kisses his cheek (leaving a purple lipstick mark) and sends him to sit back down, which he barely manages to do due to dizziness. Marvin giggles at his expression and presses a kiss to his temple. Whizzer’s happy.
He’s never done something this soft before. Something this gentle. And Marvin is gentle, these days. Never too loud, never too rough. Undoubtedly himself, but softer. The first time Marvin stays over at Whizzer’s he asks if it’s okay for him to share the bed. Whizzer’s not sure, so he says not tonight. Marvin goes sleeps on the couch. At four in the morning Whizzer wakes up from a nightmare, almost runs to the front room and onto the couch. Marvin stirs. Opens his eyes. Asks Whizzer if he’s okay. Whizzer shrugs. Marvin slings an arm around him, pulls him close and falls back asleep. He snores a little. Whizzer doesn’t mind. Whizzer falls asleep fast. Whizzer’s happy.
He’s never done something that makes him feel this good before. Something this beautiful. He eats properly for the first time in forever, three meals a day. They’re still small, but they’re there. Some days he has snacks. It’s beautiful. He stops being so skinny. He’s still svelte, sure, but his cheeks are a little softer. His eyes are less misty. His ribs don’t stick out. He doesn’t look so fragile. It’s beautiful. He looks in the mirror and feels pretty. Feels beautiful. Whizzer is so, so happy.