Chapter Text
Little glints of yellow light hit the pieces as summer winds blow the blinds in. The wooden columns made a clack-clack-clack sound on the drywall behind them.
It's hard to gauge if Marvin has been taking small periodical glances up at Whizzer for the past couple of minutes.
Whizzer, who pushed a chess piece forward with no real idea what he was doing, where he'd end up by the end of this, or why his opponent was so calm this time around.
I can't forget when things were bad, he tells himself. He can't. He thinks he never truly will. But staring at his (un-exed) lover now, he smiles.
He doesn't think Marvin catches it; the small smile spread across his lips. Far too focused for that.
Whizzer thinks for a moment that it's sort of cute how much of a fuss he's making over moving one of his pawns, essentially one of the most useless pieces.
Sure, it could wipe out a few of the other team's own, but really, what good was a pawn without a king? Or a queen? Or a player, it was mostly the player.
Whizzer likes to think he may embody the royalty pieces in the game.
Within telling this to the man before him, he chuckled while wiping dust from Jason's old chess set and led him to the living room, to which this ongoing game began.
And then another unspoken fact; Marvin looked so much like Jason, if only for the moment. He realized some vague similarities beforehand, but this was something far different.
This reminded him of digging through Marv's closet a month or two back, and striking gold when he found his old highschool yearbook.
That small black and white photo was proof enough of Jason's heritage.
Marvin slides his pawn forward, left-center. He doesn't seem smug, a stark contrast from when he used to be in any instance where he was able to lord his knowledge over Whizzer.
He sat up from his hunched position, gesturing to the board with a flap of his hand. Whizzer leans back, head full of fog.
What do they all do again? Ask Marvin, he'll know, the nerd.
His bishop nearly goes toppling over as he moves his hand to hover above a different pawn.
Steadying it, almost frantically, he straightens his shirt. Straightens his hair. Tries his best not to feel his audience's eyes on him.
Usually it would strengthen his performance to have some attention directed his way, but chess was not a strong suit of his.
It baffles him how impeccably different him and Marvin are from each other.
On the other hand, it surprises him when he finds his judgement clouded by a love-centric haze.
It used to frighten him, but now he only laughed and took Marvin's hand and played these silly little games that no longer felt tense and stale. They were bittersweet, and a little boring, he would explain to his opponent.
He loved Marvin, sure, but chess was pushing it. Or at least that's what he'd say next. He would play the game regardless, and in turn he would lose. A lot.
But until Marvin actually refused to go with him to the racquetball center in the area, he didn't have much of a choice. Favors for favors, he supposed.
His composure stands strong, yet they're only two moves in and Whizzer already feels trapped.
He tries to look interested, mimicking Marvin's earlier stature, and suddenly an idea hits.
He smiles sweetly, perking up and playing around with a pawn, catching his lover's eye. Watching as Marvin practically melted into the carpet, he starts to ask;
"Can I cheat?" Marvin glances down at the board. He sighs, overdramatic as ever as he goes to pull his hands up to his eyes.
"Just don't rearrange the board." He says, more of a suggestion. He shuts it afterward.
Whizzer snaps into action, fiddling with pieces until he was carrying three pawns by his side from Marvin's team.
He feels oddly proud. His pawns were halfway across the board, nearing a triumphant victory. "Open up."
He watched as Marvin grinned slightly at the new arrangement, seemingly unfazed by Whizzer reshaping their game.
He leaned in, placing his chin on his hand. "It's a little overwhelming," Whizzer bends down to his level, locking him into eye contact for only a few seconds before Marvin redirected his gaze.
"What?" He shakes his head.
"your game." He finishes, warranting Whizzer to knit his eyebrows together, a sarcastic comment brewing on his tongue.
But none were too vicious. He stopped spitting poison long ago, now he only released the tensity in his glare and fell to leaning up against his seat.
"You're not too shabby either, Marv." Marvin rolls his eyes. It wasn't the same, but he doesn't say a word about it. He's more invested in the other's happiness, if anything.
Marvin slides a piece toward him, faster now. Whizzer moves another of his. It goes back and forth, and now that they've hit a steady pace, Whizzer relates the game to that of racquetball.
It made the experience slightly more enjoyable, imagining the days they would go.
The days he was waking Marvin up at early hours of the morning to go out and practice with him. He gets stuck along the way somewhere.
Metaphorically, he would've flung his racquet, his grip too loose. The ball bounces and ends up in some obscure corner of the room. Or maybe it rolled out the door.
"Close em'," Whizzer commands, and Marvin's hands return to his eyes. Pride swells in his chest as his path to victory unfurls.
He's collected his equipment at record speed; he's back on the court.
"alright. Open." He sort of laughs this time, but doesn't say anything else. His absurd reactions are, in a way, what makes this so intriguing.
Then Whizzer takes him by surprise. He sweeps the queen off of her throne, so to speak. He wins the game.
"How'd you do that?" The hint of awe in his voice is what Whizzer continues playing for. He shrugs. It seemed simpler when he made the move. Now, of course, his motives were indecipherable.
"Winning's everything to me," He remarks, in a sardonic tone. He knows he took those words right from the mouth of the man sitting in front of him.
"Nothing.." His smile returns, and they both begin to reset the board together. "nothing is everything to me."
Whizzer scoffs, and Marvin sits up again.
"Except you."
"Who you love?"
"And so on,"
And so on. It echoes in his head. And so on, Marvin loved him plus more. His hand fumbles for a missing piece─ he feels a gooey warmth swallow him whole.
He feels Marvin and his fingers collide, he feels himself pull both of their hands to the side, hanging on as if it were a lifeline. He wants to repeat it.
"And so on," He imagines himself articulating in a softer voice "man, your cheesy. I love you too." But he shuts it and hunkers down. He's still playing the game.
He slowly lost desire to cheat as the grid of the board made it's way through his mind, the moves he made were premonitions that flowed through him and left just as easy.
One second he was decimating Marvin's side, the next he was wondering what to do with the single pawn he hadn't yet moved.
As the speed increased, and as he won time and time again, his confidence climbed. Five wins under his belt felt like nothing, he thinks he could go five more if he so pleased.
But in a slow moment of contemplation, he finds himself in a different category of thought.
He's letting me win.
The idea is one of low self reliance. But it is suspicious. Now he's suddenly stuck again, the game half-through.
"Here, I'll close my eyes." Marvin says in nonchalance. Whizzer waves a hand in the air.
"No, I want to win this right." He remembers flipping through something or other left out on the coffee table once.. something chess related─
A book on chess strategies. He flipped through it, it wasn't too thick of a book. More of a pamphlet. "You keep those eyes wide open." Traces of joking and warning hung in his tone.
"Really?" A nod.
"Really." A tilt of the head.
"No help?" Finally, a small grin and laugh. Marvin returns the first.
"Nah." He finds his courage, and moves the piece. Soon after, he's moving another. And so on, he repeats. He wonders if Marvin is rethinking those words as well.
He looks around, maybe something has changed. Maybe, in the apartment a few floors up from theirs, Cordelia is cooking something grand.
The world slows. It's just another summer afternoon. Marvin had taken one of his sick days, he had woken Whizzer up with a peck on the cheek, and from there it was only their chaotic bliss.
And then chess, though technically that could be considered part of it. "Can't keep this pace," Whizzer mumbles, thinking it must not be audible.
Then, as if it were clockwork, there's a squeeze at his left hand. "Slow." He nearly whispers back. Whizzer curses the word.
No. Not slow. Can't be slow, slow doesn't win the game. Winning is everything. Isn't it? And suddenly that same brilliance from before shines through. He defeats the opposing side. Six to nothing.
"What the fuck?" Whizzer hardly contains his amusement at that.
"There a prob?" Another shake of his head. "No prob."
He responds, barely paying attention as he rearranged. Whizzer tilts his head. 'Come on, Marv.' his expression says. 'One more game,' Marvin's shoots back.
"Fine." He says aloud, spinning the board around so the beginning set was on Marvin's side. "Your move." He's growing a little bored. His bleakening moments of victory will surely stay. It's just luck.
Just some dumb luck. And maybe a paragraph or two from that book collecting dust on the other side of the living room, somewhere.
This game finishes quicker, and nearing the end the silence is broken once more. "How the fuck did you do that?"
He combs a hand through his mop of brunette hair. As he pulled back strands from his forehead, the grey hairs became more visible. Whizzer didn't think about it. Aging. It was safe to say it frightened him.
But god, he knew how to pick em'. The salt-and-pepper hairstyle that Marvin is slowly growing toward fills him with fondness.
Jesus, you're getting old he'd say, but he'd say it with a smile.He'd say it going in for a kiss. Yeah, and you're still young somehow. Explain that.
"Marvin," He lets the 'n' drag on. "I've hardly a clue what I'm doing. Not one. Plus, this chair's getting me stiff, come straighten out with me."
He strokes a thumb over Marvin's own. The man tries to contain his lips slowly pulling upward. "Tell me how," Whizzer shrugs, but doesn't expect Marvin to continue.
"how're you so charming? Sure, Whizzer Brown, I'll straighten out with you." I'll do just about anything with you by my side, his tone reads.
He stands up, letting go of his lover's hand, stretching. "Never did understand chess. Too many rules." He helps Marvin up.
"Not bad though, right?" Picking up the king and studying it beside Marvin for a minute, he grins.
Grins like a child. Like Jason when he won a match he knew he'd win. Like Marvin when those new Star Wars movies got ads on the television.
"No, not bad. With the right company." Whizzer snakes his hand around the latter's waist. He holds him close, chess game totally amiss.
The king is set near the edge of the wooden coffee table, queen far off on the pulled-out ottoman, chess board soaking in the last rays of afternoon sunlight, forgotten again.
Both kings now, so close they were touching. Sometimes solemn, sometimes even lonely, but never when near each other.
Off in a separate room, a relationship almost exactly identical continues on. In another home, an energetic blonde woman bounces around her kitchen, set off to bake.
Isn't life just such a funny surprise?