Chapter Text
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"Alright, alright. Listen, if you can beat me in racquetball you get to top —BUT if I win, I'm topping."
Marvin grimaced, crossing his arms over his chest.
"Oh, come on. You ALWAYS win, thats not fair." He pointed his racquet at the taller man's face in detestation.
"I'll go easy on you!"
He glanced at the latters' disbelieving face and quickly switches to begging, putting his hands together in a praying position and crouching down to the others' level.
"Cmon' Marv... please? I pinky promise I wont go hard on you."
Marvin's resolve started to fade, his racquet lowering to the floor and his free hand rests on his hip. He huffs before his expression softens, giving in to Whizzer's begging.
"Fine."
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"Fuck!"
Marvin exhaustedly stops chasing the ball and drops his racquet, panting heavily.
"That was going easy on me?"
Whizzer laughs boisterously, his hands on his knees, and not a drop of sweat on his face.
"I was going easy on you! I guess you just cant keep up."
Marvin groaned, closing his eyes as his hand ran through his now sweaty hair. Whizzer walked toward him and grabbed his boyfriend's love handles with his surprisingly gentle hands.
"So does this mean I'm topping tonight?
Marvins hand moved to Whizzers' deep brown hair strands, pulling him in by the back of his head— stopping just before their lips touch.
"I guess it does." He pressed their lips together, lingering for a moment before Whizzer pushed him back, keeping a hand on his broad chest.
"Okay, let's get our stuff, change, and head home then." He smirked at him teasingly before he pushed him again, as if to tell him to hurry up.
Marvin wasted no time in grabbing his and Whizzer's racquets and their Seamco branded balls, stuffing them into their shared bag.
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