Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

And They’re Off!

It had started with a spur of the moment suggestion; a question Whizzer had called while he and Marvin walked past a jeweler.

“Marvin, we should get married.”  He had said. Marvin had become rigid almost instantly, but then, he slowly turned revealing his giddy grin. By the time they had returned to their apartment they had matching silver rings and were planning their impromptu wedding.

For an event that required a listless amount of planning they really didn’t question much, in fact (to the surprise of literally everyone) they hadn’t even argued about it.

They had agreed to have the ceremony at the botanical gardens next to Trina’s house, and that they’ll reveal their plan to the others the next day, and hold the wedding in two weeks, among other things.  However, this next discussion was a tad more tedious.

“Well, who should we invite?” Whizzer questioned. “Aside, from the given Jace, Trina, the girls and Mendel, I guess.” He clarified.

Whizzer and Marvin sat together in their apartment’s living room; the taller man’s legs lazily thrown over his partner’s lap, who dragged his hand up and down his inner thigh and across his knee.

“I don’t mind if it’s just us all, the thing doesn’t need to be massive.” Marvin commented but took a moment to rethink it after Whizzer grumbled. “If you want more people there, I can invite people from work? Or you can?” Whizzer kept quiet, even though, when Marvin lifted and positioned himself in between his legs so he could lay his back on Whizzer’s chest, he still embraced him.

“What about family?” He whispered cautiously into Marvin’s hair, he rubbed his cheek against his scalp, enjoying the sensation of soft brown curls against his skin.

“Family.” Marvin said indifferently.

Whizzer had been mulling over talking about family ever since they first left that jeweler with their newly bedazzled ring fingers. He snaked his arms around Marvin’s torso letting his hands cross over his chest, he felt his chest rise and fall with an especially deep breath.

“Do you have someone in mind, Whiz? Someone from your family?” Whizzer didn’t answer right away, he simply hummed. Marvin elaborated, “I don’t really feel the need to invite my mother, not that she would come even if I did, we never got to know each other.”

Whizzer knew this of course, he knew about Marvin’s non-existent yet strained relationship with his mother, and his father’s death. He knew that Marvin grew up in what essentially was an empty house, made more prominent by its uncanny size.

Whizzer also knew that not once had he told Marvin about his family. About his highly religious parents, or his plethora of younger siblings, or Kevin. He had taken great caution to not mention Kevin. Actually, he had almost completely blocked any memories of his twin brother out of his head, that was until he had gotten a company call, he had learnt that Kevin had moved to NYC and recognised Whizzer from the small photography business he ran. Even if ‘Whizzer’ wasn’t the name Kevin knew him by.

They had promised to stay in touch, but they hadn’t tried to reach out since. Perhaps, that was enough of a sign.

Marvin shuffled back pressing into Whizzer, he let his head fall back on his shoulder and his nose rub against the bottom of Whizzer’s jaw.

He let out a content sigh. Whizzer let his eyes close as he let the tenseness from within him dissipate. He took the prolonged silence as his signal to start rambling.

“I just- I mean, I was thinking that maybe, since he’s living in New York now, maybe I should invite my brother. Kevin.”

Marvin gave Whizzer’s hand a reassuring squeeze.

“I haven’t actually talk-talked to him in a long time, decades, and a lot of his beliefs don’t align with ours. If you know what I mean, but I-” His words caught in his throat, and he shuddered as he let out his last tidbit of concern. “I miss him.”

Whizzer clenched his jaw and made no effort to speak again, Marvin simply continued to huff gentle breaths against his neck while slowly caressing his hand.

“I didn’t know you had a brother.” He whispered and dragged the bends of his fingers across Whizzer’s knuckles.

“I have four and Kevin’s my twin. The rest are younger. I have two sisters too. Or well, I had, I’m not sure they consider me family anymore.”  He mumbled matter-of-factly but he was sure Marvin could recognise the hurt in his voice.

“I don’t have any siblings.” Marvin said slightly louder, and he raised his head in with an acute haste.

“I know that.” Whizzer stated, his eyebrow quirked up at the sight of Marvin’s wide eyes.

“I don’t have any siblings.” He repeated, less to Whizzer, more to himself. He sat up fully, and suddenly Whizzer was deprived of his partner’s warmth. Marvin shot off the couch, standing up, only to bend down and turn Whizzer to face him. Then as if Whizzer was a child, Marvin put a hand on each of his shoulders and nodded at Whizzer as he gently spoke.

“You have to invite him, Whizzer.” He squeezed and smiled, Whizzer grimaced.

“I don’t ha-” Whizzer started,

“Yes, you do.” Marvin interrupted, a tone of absolute certainty ringing through his words.

“I don’t understand.” The taller man admitted after Marvin began nodding again, his big blue eyes locking with Whizzer’s deep brown ones.

“Whizzer, I don’t have any siblings, but you have Kevin. A brother. A twin brother. One you grew up with and one you clearly care about. You can’t forget that.” His hands slid from his shoulders to his neck then to cup his face, Whizzer felt both patronised, but also very tender and warm.

“Baby, I would have done anything to have a brother growing up, you ‘gotta invite Kevin. You have to show him you still want a relationship.” He had opened his mouth to protest, but then Marvin had scratched at the space of short hair above his ear and Whizzer had leaned into the touch.

“Fine, fine, fine!” He semi-whined and swatted Marvin’s hands away, he just chuckled and stood back.

“If he’s anything like you then I bet everyone will love him.” He remarked, Whizzer stood up to tower over Marvin. He slinked an arm around the shorter man, who gladly grabbed on tugging their waists together.

“For the record if this goes wrong in any way, shape or form, its all your fault.” Whizzer squinted at him, while Marvin pouted in faux guilt. He rolled his eyes as he freed himself and he had swiftly swiped his iPhone 7 (the newest model, thanks Marvin) up off of the kitchen counter. The curly haired man fell back onto the couch and Whizzer opened his phone.

Kevin was, Kevin had been the closest person to Whizzer growing up, he had been by his side every step of the way, they went to school together, they played outside together, they went to church together, the studied scripture together. Scripture. That goddamned scripture, Mormonism, religion, God, they were all things Whizzer tried to forget, he tried to forget how his family had chosen religion over him. All while Kevin was on his holy mission to Africa, baptising people and spreading faith and devotion. Being the perfect son.

His fingers hovered over the phone app icon, maybe this was a mistake. Kevin was the super Mormon of the family, he knew every scripture and every rule and all the stories. Whizzer saw how his hands shook, and he clenched his phone, and tore his eyes from the screen, they landed on Marvin.

Marvin inspected his new ring with a smirk, he twisted the silver band around his finger. He smiled at him, at his sweetness.

His eyes returned to the phone in his hand.

What would Kevin think about Marvin? About a wedding? A homosexual wedding with homosexual grooms? Whizzer was suddenly rethinking reaching out, Kevin probably wouldn’t be supportive of him, of him with Marvin. The thought of it gave him this distinct feeling of hands wrapping around his throat, tightening with every breath.

Whizzer turned to steady himself on the counter. Inhale, exhale, inhale, he rehearsed.

Then he swiped open Kevin’s contact, if Kevin hated him at least that meant he’d be allowed to hate him back, he pressed the call button. If things went pear-shaped, he’d get in a good yelling match. Whizzer could totally beat Kevin out in a yelling match.

It had started to ring, and Whizzer brought it to his ear, he held his breath. When he turned to face Marvin again, he had looked up at him and gave him a comforting smile and a thumbs up. Whizzer reached out a hand to coax Marvin to come to him. He padded over and intertwined their fingers together.

“Hello? Whizzer?” He heard the familiar voice of his twin sound from the phone. Their voices were almost identical and had stayed almost identical, but Whizzer had (and still would) defend that Kevin sounded way nerdier than him.

“Hi, Kevin.” He tried to keep his voice clear.

There was a pause, Whizzer held his breath.

“Do you need something?” Whizzer tensed, doubt filled his head, nevertheless he sharply inhaled and responded.

“No, I-I just-” He tried but found himself at a loss for words. Marvin gave him a concerned look then he raised his hand up to the phone as if to take it.

“If you don’t want to..” He started.

“No, no I can do this.” Whizzer recoiled turning away with his shoulder and leaving his back turned to Marvin. He took long strides as he rushed away.

“Who are you talking t-” That stupid voice questioned through the phone.

“Kevin, I’m getting married, we’re having a wedding.” He paced up the stairs to the bedroom. “Do you want to come or not?” His words were steady and raised if not a bit harsh.

Whizzer swung the bedroom door open with a bang and crashed through the bathroom door, Kevin stayed quiet, but the room was filled with noise as he pushed everything off the bathroom counter.

“Congratulations, Whizzer. But-” He stopped again. Whizzer felt this terrible weight fall upon him, he supported himself against the sink and he stared at himself in the mirror. This was it, Kevin was going to tell him just how much he hates him. This was a nightmare, a literal nightmare. His eyes scanned over his face, it was pinched with worry, and with disgust. This is how Kevin saw him; he was sure of it. Whizzer was a mess. A mess and a disappointment.

The sensation like large strong hands wrapped around his throat.

“You’re so damned entitled aren’t you.” Whizzer was heaving now.

“What?” His brother sounded confused, but there wasn’t anything to be confused about. Kevin hated him, they all hated him, there was no doubt about it, Kevin hated everything Whizzer loved, everything Whizzer fought for. Kevin hated everything he loved.

“You’re so fucking dense, that’s all you are selfish and dense.” He couldn’t rip his gaze from his eyes. He stared at the reflection of himself, but maybe deeper down he was yelling at Kevin, who was also a reflection of himself in a way. He was standing up to him face-to-face, telling him everything he never got to say, all the things he wished he could have said.

“Whi-” Kevin’s voice had ringed through the machine, but then he was interrupted, not by Whizzer, but by someone on Kevin’s side of the phone.

“Hey fuck you! What makes you think you can say things like that to him? Fuck you!” A new voice angrily spewed threats and swears at Whizzer. He heard Kevin shout out in the distance, like the phone had been snatched off him.

This voice was high but loud and strict, his yelling seemed to only get louder.

“You’re fucking quiet now aren’t you, yeah wild isn’t it? Kevin has friends who’ll stand up for him, something you woulda never have done. ‘Cause you weren’t there were you? Yeah, that makes you such a fucking shitty fucker.” The voice fired insults and used an obscene amount of ‘fucks’ and ‘shits’.

Whizzer was getting choked up again, he swallowed but a lump formed in his throat. He had opened his mouth to bark something back, but then there was a rumble of voices and thumps on the other line. He heard the other voice yell out, “Give it back! I’m not done yet!”

The noises of struggle ended and Kevin spoke again slightly winded, “Whizzer, I am so sor-”

“No go fuck yourself, thinking you’re all-knowing, that you’re better than me. Go off with your dumbfuck friends back to your cult and get lost. Forget about the wedding, it’s clear you don’t want to go.” Whizzer cried, he was tired of being a terrible person. He was so tired.

“Please, Whizzer, I want to go, I want to be there for you.” Kevin’s voice called out through the speaker, but it sounded almost muffled in Whizzer’s head. Both lines fell quiet, he felt his veins run ice-cold.

“You what? You want to go?” He murmured. Whizzer’s world had fallen apart but suddenly his mind had felt clearer.

“Yes, of course. Whizzer, I want to be there.”  Whizzer looked over his reflection again, his face was reddened, and his chest rose unevenly, he looked and saw himself. He saw himself racked with even the possibility of being cast away again.

“Kevin, you can come. But you owe me, and for the love of go-gosh, do not bring that friend.” He let out a deep breath, he wanted Kevin there, and Kevin wanted to be there. He smiled. Kevin wanted to be there. Whizzer could cry if he wanted to.

“Thank you. I owe you. I’m sorry about Chris.” Kevin was apologising to Whizzer. He hadn’t ever done that before. Whizzer took his head into his hands, wiping away at the sweat on the bridge of his nose. He needed to calm down.

“I need to go now, I’ll call you later.” Whizzer felt his body get heavier, he felt tired, he ached. All his blood had been rushing to his head and now it felt as if he was welting from the inside. Kevin had said his goodbyes, and the call had ended almost in the same way it started, silently and tense.

He returned to the bedroom, immediately crashing onto the bed, a snicker sounded from the bedroom entry. Whizzer held a pillow flush to his face. “I messed it up.” He mumbled through the fabric. Whizzer didn’t move, even when he felt the bed shift with added weight and a warm body curl up in front him. A hand began to stroke his back, curled fingers pressing softly against his shirt.

“I hate his friends.” Whizzer groaned, Marvin huffed a laugh he took his hand to Whizzer’s brown (now messy) hair, he stringed the strands through his fingers.

“As one often does, how about him?” Marvin scratched at his scalp.

“He’s insufferable? Unbearable?” He then asked the tone of his voice still blatantly amused.

“You would not believe it.” Whizzer mumbled into the pillow.

“He really is like you then.”

Marvin then got whacked by said pillow, then Whizzer whacked him again for good measure. And once again just for good luck. Then they had laughed, they had curled up in their bed and laughed, and Whizzer smiled.

Even if Kevin ruined their wedding at least he would be married to Marvin.

~~~

“Well, that was a disaster.” Kevin commented walking back into the living room. He hadn’t expected a call from his twin, and he especially did not expect an invitation to his wedding. But then again, he hadn’t expected his brother to start verbally attacking him either.

“I didn’t do anything wrong!” Chris claimed his hand on his hip and his brow still furrowed in frustration. Chris, Connor and Arnold all sat in various locations of Kevin’s living room. Chris and Arnold had come to visit Connor and himself, and they planned on returning with Connor back to Utah in the next few weeks. Kevin knew Connor was only staying for as long as his family was upset about him, then after he’d go back to living in his apartment there. In Utah, Salt Lake City, Utah. Kevin groaned internally; he had bigger fish to fry.

“Chris.” Kevin shook his head while sporting an intensely incredulous look. Connor was hovering by Chris’ side, he gave Kevin shrug of his shoulders. Kevin sighed and faced Arnold, who was scrunched up in a beanbag in the corner of the room, he hadn’t looked up from his phone the whole debacle, he was texting Naba no doubt. He turned back to Chris, he looked as unimpressed as he could.

“Just promise me, you won’t ever take my phone or try to ‘talk things out’ with anyone I know.” Kevin practically begged, but Chris simply threw his hands up and disappeared into the hall. He moved to follow him but a hand on his shoulder stopped him.

Connor spun Kevin around, and Kevin just about died a little inside, Connor held this bright smile displacing the freckles that spread across his cheeks like hundreds of little paint splatter. He felt his chest warm.

“Well, it was pretty nice of Whizzer to invite you.” He chirped, and his hand rubbed ever so slightly at his shoulder. Kevin might’ve crumbled if he got any closer.

“Yeah, well he also started yelling at me. Then Chris did literally the worst job at mediating.” Kevin sighed.

“Mmh, what siblings don’t argue? And, Poptarts is a menace you should’ve know he’d reign chaos.” He laughed and fireworks sparked within Kevin. He blinked and smiled. Connor went to say something else but suddenly Chris returned shouting.

“Revolution! We should revolt!” He stormed into the room and swiftly sprinted to the middle of the room and jumped onto the coffee table. He had startled Arnold into throwing his phone across the room, it landed behind the couch. Then for the first time in the whole afternoon Arnold contributed to the conversation at hand.

“Oooh, what’s happening? Who we revolting against?” He quipped moving to join Chris on the coffee table. They were relatively the same height to each other now, and slightly taller than Kevin. It was a strange feeling. Kevin had already started shaking his head, after all coming from Chris this couldn’t be anything good, then he and Connor shuffled over to them.

“Wait, what do you mean?” Kevin questioned already slightly peeved.

Chris smiled at him mischievously and happily explained.

“We should revolt against your evil brother-” Kevin tried to defend him but Chris stuck out a finger to cover his lips. “so that he knows not to insult you, or us ever again.” He finished with a tilt of his head. This was the start of a challenge, Kevin stood back, now he was the unimpressed one.

“How do you plan on ‘revolting’?” He mocked and signaled two obvious quotation marks with his fingers. Chris scowled and Connor scoffed a laugh.

Arnold suddenly gasped, he nearly knocked Chris off the coffee table as he waved his hands around excitedly.

“What if! Wa- Wha- What if we-” He stuttered as he breathed exasperatedly, “What if we prank him!?” He shouted much too loud. The others plugged their ears, but Kevin heard as Chris started to cackle.

“That’s it! That’s great! We totally should!” Chris cried out still laughing. This was bad news, this idea had to be shot down right now. But then, Connor had started to shout out in glee.

“That sounds hilarious!” He had laughed and grinned, and then, and then he had turned to Kevin and smiled. He smiled at Kevin! “Doesn’t that sound fun, Kev?” Kev, Connor had called him Kev, he had given him a nickname. Kevin was melting he was sure of it, he was burning hot.

“Yeah, Con.” He had said without really thinking about it, his brain felt like a mound of boiled mush. His mouth felt dry, he licked his lips. His vision focused on Connor’s face, on how when he laughed and smiled, he squeezed his eyes shut and how Kevin was sure it might’ve been the most angelic song he’d ever heard, (even with the years of church songs and boys’ choir).

Chris and Arnold had continued to shout about vanquishing the ‘evil’ Kevin for the rest of the day and Connor had laughed right along with them. Therefore, Kevin had been in a blissful trance.

He hadn’t realised the absolute tidal wave of madness that was about to ensue across the next couple of weeks to his twin brothers wedding. 

Chapter Text

Baby A and Baby B

 “So, I have a twin?” Emmett was rightfully baffled.

Only an hour ago had he been scouring through his mother’s attic with Elle, as they searched for a form Emmett needed for an up-coming business trip, and now he was sitting at his childhood dining table and getting his world flipped.

Emmett held in his hands an ultrasound photo, it was black and grainy but clearly depicted two baby shaped blobs. One was labelled ‘Baby A’ and the other ‘Baby B’ except the labels were crossed out in pen and ‘Baby A’ said Emmett, and ‘Baby B’ said Marvin.

After showing her the photo, her expression had dropped but she smiled and sat down. His mother sat across from Emmett and laid out her hands to hold his, he decided against it.

Elle resigned herself to another room, Emmett had asked for space, and she had smiled and complied quietly.

A mystery twin wasn’t something Emmett had ever even considered being victim of, and yet as his mother wiped a stray tear from her face, Emmett had started to consider things he never had before.

Like, is he adopted? And if he was did, that mean his mother wasn’t actually his mother, or maybe this ‘Marvin’ had died, but if so, why was he never told about it? Or perhaps something worse had happened, something unspeakable, something that had to be covered up. Emmett had seen terrible cases with parents and their children, he would have never imagined he could be a part of that.

“Emmett,” She looked into his eyes and her face softened, then her head dropped, and a look of disappointment crossed her face. It was an expression Emmett had never seen her take on. “when I was still with your father,” Emmett grimaced at that, from what he’d been told his father was a mentally ill deadbeat runaway, a person so unimportant to Emmett that he had never even bothered to ask his name. “we had brought you home from the hospital,”

“And then dad left in the middle of the night with half of his crap and all the family money, yes I know, but, why-who’s Marvin?” Emmett interrupted, his mother was speaking too slowly, and he’d heard this story a hundred times before.

His mother sniffled but that didn’t stop her from biting back, “Emmett, Marvin is your brother, when we brought you home, we brought him home too. But when he left he,” She trailed off as she brought her hand to cover her mouth, Emmett could fill in the rest.

“When he left, he took him.”

His mother crept her hand to hover over his, then she laid it over his and left it there. Emmett thought about Elle, he wanted her to come to him, to talk to him and to comfort him, and he knew she would if he asked. It would be so simple to ask, a single word or look and she’d be right there for him, but he couldn’t. He couldn’t even try to.

“Emmett.” She started again, “Emmett,” she whispered but her momentary look of resolve was quickly replaced by guilt again. “When I woke the next morning and saw that they were gone, I-I couldn’t believe it. I spent the rest of the day waiting for him to return begging for forgiveness, he’d do that and blame his actions of his illnesses. He’d blame anxiety, depression, insanity, anything he could think of.” Her eyes glossed over with more tears as she looked over his face. “Then he didn’t return.”

“Why didn’t you look for them?” Emmett felt anger boil within him, yet it felt like a mask for this newfound grief that enveloped him. Marvin could be dead for all they knew, and to think that was his mother’s fault.

“I did, I had for so long. Cops and detectives and lawyers and every person in the town looked for him.” She explained through quiet unsteady words.

“But then Emmett, I realised something.” Her eyes drifted away, and Emmett let the photo slip from his hand and he laid it on top of hers. “I had spent so many hours searching for Marvin and worrying and crying, that I’d forgotten to love you.” Emmett tried to speak but his mother shook her head and continued.

“I was never home, I was always out panicking, but one night, and I’ll never forget this night. I came home to you, and you were crying, now you were only a few weeks old, and I had forgotten you.” The fear and sadness dripped from her face in small streams of tears, but her face had shifted into one of pure adoration. Emmett’s mother looked at him with pure adoration.

“Then I took you into my arms, and I held you. I rocked you until you fell asleep, and I promised you.” She pulled away suddenly and stood from her seat, Emmett followed suit.

“I promised you, Emmett, that I was going to take care of you, I was going to love you no matter what.” He moved around the dining table and warmly enveloped her into a hug. Emmett embraced her and held on tight, “I said that I was going to make sure I loved you, even if that meant I had to stop searching, that I had to let go, let go of him. I grieved like he passed; I hadn’t lost hope I just needed to get my priorities in order. You were the newborn in my arms, you came first.” She whispered into his shoulder, and he hugged her closer, he could smell her floral perfume, the scent he recognised as the scent of home. Of love.

“Mum, I love you.” He didn’t know what to say and wasn’t quite sure what to believe anymore, but he knew he loved his mother. And he had always been sure she loved him back.

“I love you too, darling.” She pulled away smiling at him, but Emmett still had one thing left to ask.

“Last thing, Ma, why did he take Marvin?” Why hadn’t he taken him instead? Was it random? A fifty-fifty chance? She sighed and raised her hand to rub his arm gently, her words were calmed and content.

His mother paused and Emmett felt her soothing him, “I always thought it was because he had his last name.” She searched his face for a reaction, he only waited. “We couldn’t agree on which surname to use, so you got Forrest and Marvin got Gardens.”

Before Emmett could respond, Elle peeked into the living room from behind the dividing hallway wall, she gave a sheepish smile. Emmett waved her in, and she padded towards him, her blonde ponytail swishing behind her.

“I’ve been searching online for Marvin, but I can’t find anything.” She explained holding her phone up for reference. An app Emmett recognised as Facebook was open to the search engine. He hummed and motioned to take it, she let him and stood back, he heard her briefly ask his mum if she was alright.

Emmett typed the name ‘Marvin Gardens’ into the search bar and handed back to Elle.

“Ohh, okay.” She nodded, and began to aggressively swipe through the results. He watched with a keen eye and quickly increasing amounts of anticipation. Then he changed his attention to his mother, she kept her hands pursed together as she waited, he could see the hope and desperation that filled her eyes.

“I found him!” Elle shouted eagerly, his mother was immediately looking over her shoulder in a stumble of pure mixture of shock and excitement. Emmett followed to peer over the other side of Elle’s shoulder.

Elle’s phone projected the image of a post made from a ‘Trina Weisenbachfeld’ the post itself was from over a decade ago and depicted a taller brown-haired woman in a large white dress getting her hair done by another woman. Emmett noticed how she was clearly pregnant, and worry creased her eyebrow and how it made her smile seem just slightly off. The most intriguing element of the post was the caption, which read, ‘Tonight is the night that I get married to the only person who has truly loved me like this. Marvin Gardens, you make me the happiest woman, I can’t wait to raise our son together and build this tight-knit family side by side. NYC here we come!’

Emmett didn’t tear his focus from the phone screen until he heard a sniffle to the side of him. He looked up to see his mother wiping tears from her eyes. Elle wrapped a comforting arm around her and patted her on the back.

“He got married, and he’s got a son.” She hummed lightly and wiped another stray tear from her cheek.

 “I’m a grandmother.” She said like she was trying to convince herself.

“I’m an uncle.” He added.

Elle returned her attention to her phone, she began to swipe upwards on Trina’s account. “I think she’s really pretty and she looks kind too. But I want to find a photo of Marvin.”

They watched as Elle swiped through photos of her cooking dinner for her family, and one of newly born Jason and Trina in the hospital room (Emmett was slightly put off at the fact Marvin appeared to not be in the room with them.) and then after several small strokes up in the posts, Elle scrolled all the way to the most recent post.

It was a photo of Trina and another man on a candlelit date at some restaurant, the man had tight brown curls and a stubbily beard, he looked at her with infactuation. For a moment, Emmett had considered that man might be Marvin, until Elle opened the comments, and they saw how a user named Mendel had written ‘I truly do love you more than any giant man could. More than any horse or zebra, more than any biblical brother could hate their biblical brother.’

Emmett and Elle’s eyes met when they lifted their heads up again, they gave each other a look, he was certain Elle knew exactly what he was thinking, and he was also sure he had no idea what Elle’s look meant. He could guess it was the same thing he was thinking. He was proven correct after she said,

“Trina and Marvin must’ve gotten divorced.” She tapped out of the comments, “Well, I mean they did get married like a decade and a half ago. Lot of time’s passed.” Emmett hummed in agreeance, and his mother had quietly whispered to keep looking.

This time around Elle had scrolled down a couple swipes, this post now read the date from about three years ago, Emmett gave it a quick scan, it was a white room with an even whiter curtain in the background. There were six people standing in front of it all in a varying degree of colours and heights, most noticeably a young teen at the front and a frail looking man in a white hospital gown to the side. Then Emmett saw him.

Emmett saw himself; he saw a man that looked just like him, and he knew it.

“Marvin.” He said staring into the water filled eyes that were blue just like his, the same roundness, same size. They were the same.

Emmett had been granted the ability to see into his twin brother’s life, to see him with the people he must’ve treasured most, his son, his friends. He saw a life he knew he was meant to be apart of, he should know the names of these people, he should know who they are and what they sound like.

Elle zoomed into the photo and Emmett’s mother pointed at Marvin.

“That’s him, that’s my boy.” She whispered a sad combination of sombre and pride in her voice.

“Wow, he looks just like you, Em.” Elle commented smiling.

Marvin looked just like him, he wondered if he sounded like him or acted like him. Did Marvin think like him? Would Marvin like him? Elle’s finger tapped the screen, and she pulled up the caption.

“This day my boy becomes a man, even if in an unconventional location, as we celebrate Jason’s bar mitzvah. I would like to say that despite our differences, Whizzer, thank you dearly for being here for my son, (and begrudgingly my ex as well) and everyday we wish for your recovery.” She finished. Emmett felt this sudden throb in his head, he shut his eyes and rubbed at the bridge of his nose with his forefinger and thumb. He could hear Elle’s nail tapping the glass of her phone screen.

“I think he must be Whizzer.” She decided.

“And this one Jason.” His mother added.

“Well, look at Marvin and Whizzer, they must be cozy.” The blonde said with a chirp, Emmett let his hand fall and his vision clear. They were scrolling through the comments now, they stopped on one by a Whizzer Brown from only a week ago. His wife cackled at the comment and read it aloud with a giggle.

“We HAVE to retake this photo, why did no one tell me how fugly I was.” He saw his mother smile, and he couldn’t help but smile at Elle’s scrunched nose.

“And then, and then, someone replied with” She continued.

“Because we thought you were dying Whiz, no wants to be told their ugly when they’re about to die, Whiz.” Elle pressed on Whizzer’s contact.

Emmett inhaled a long deep breath, one his body desperately needed. He felt a rapturing ache in his head, this was overwhelming, this was so unreal. He withdrew from Elle’s side and gently pulled his mother to the side, she wore a look of concern on her face, the wrinkles in the corners of her eyes more prevalent than ever.

“Does he even know I exist?” He whispered, logically he knew that his mother wouldn’t know, that she couldn’t know. But he hoped that Marvin had learnt about him, that they both hadn’t been robbed of the knowledge of each other. Though, if Marvin had known about it, about Emmett, why had he never looked for him? Did he know something Emmett didn’t?

“I don’t know, Bub. I wish I knew, but I don’t.” She tried to give him a reassuring smile.

Then a thought struck him, what if Marvin never reached out because he thought Emmett was the one ignoring him. That his own twin brother must’ve hated him because not once had he tried to talk to him.

“Were you never going to tell me?” He had pushed slightly, just slightly, but his voice had sterned, a tone he had never taken while talking to his mother. She recoiled clearly hurt. Emmett expected a response of anger or annoyance, or some type of explanation, but she turned her head and stormed away.

He stepped forward to follow but,

“Hello?” He heard a man’s voice, he paused, it wasn’t a voice he'd heard before, he turned to see Elle with her phone propped up with its speaker to her mouth. Emmett took a double take from where his mother had disappeared off to and back to Elle and the mystery man she was on call with. 'Who is that?' He mouthed concerned, and Emmett had almost had a mini-heart attack when Elle mouthed back ‘Whizzer’. He scrambled to her side again, he could talk to his mother later, he decided.

“Hi, this is Elle. This is going to sound like way crazy, but I have reason to believe that someone you know, is well, ehem, how do I phrase this? He might be my husband’s twin brother,” She had responded in her usual cheerful voice. “you’re friends with a Marvin Gardens right?” She gave Emmett a smile and placed a hand on his shoulder, he was sure it was because of the way his face paled and eyes widened to an insane degree. His look of terror would only dissipate if Whizzer were to hang up right now, but he did not, so Emmett remained pale.

“Yeah, he’s lying in our bed right now.” He seemed to say out of instinct and then immediately backtracked, he asked more pressingly, “Wait, what do you mean, twin brother? Marv’s an only child.”

“Yeah, that’s what I thought too.” Emmett tried to say with snark, but he sounded more shakily unsure than anything else. They heard Whizzer’s voice hitch, and then he shouted out,

“Marvin!” His voice was loud and shrill and slightly grainy, it sounded like he had a lot of experience shouting that specific name. “There’s a stranger on the phone that sounds exactly like you! He says he’s your long-lost brother!”

The reality of the situation finally settled in Emmett’s mind, he was going to talk to his twin brother, one he hadn’t even known existed when he woke up that morning. He felt the bones within him jittering with nerves, he felt more jittery than all those times he had ignored the recommended caffeine intake on all those RedBull cans.

There was a long pause, though Emmett swore he could hear someone walking heavily down the stairs, due to the louder footsteps and creaky wood panels. Elle slid the volume bar on her phone up to max, they could now hear the slew of muffled talking on the other line. They were arguing, from what he could make out, it was about how this was likely a large scam. He heard Whizzer whine that he thought it was a funny scam call, and then Marvin complained that he should just hang up.

“Wait! Don’t hang up.” He called suddenly and quickly pulled Elle’s phone into his hands. Then without a second thought he pressed the Facetime icon.

“I’m not a liar, I’m Emmett and I think you’re my brother.” He brought the camera to his face, and then like the salty ocean waves collide with the rocks on shore, he saw him and with each second that passed, he felt another booming wave crash against his rocks.

His blue eyes searched Emmett’s face with disbelief and he was sure he wore an identical expression, Emmett felt each gaze this man gave him crumble away at the walls he held, the doubt he tried to so desperately cling on to.

He felt so connected to someone who was logically just a stranger but on a deeper level his own flesh and blood, someone he shared a womb with and should’ve shared a life with.

“Who are you?” He spoke finally, his eyes searching his face, another man popped up behind him and stared into the camera with just as much bewilderment. Emmett recognised him as the sickly man from the photo, though now looking much less sickly. Much, much less sickly.

“I’m Emmett Forrest. I’m your… twin.” Any doubt he held was snatched from its feasibility for this man, this Marvin, was most definitely his brother. The two men shared a glance, one with fear and one with excitement. Marvin swallowed,

“This feels like, like a scam, how can you be real? I don’t, I don’t know you.” He stuttered with uncertainty, and boy could Emmett relate, he knew what he needed to say.

“You live in New York, right? Me and my partner are coming for work next week, we should meet up, I’ll be able to tell you everything I’ve learnt today.” But when Marvin didn’t answer right away, Emmett continued, “Just for lunch or something, to catch up on lost time.” They watched as Marvin held his puzzled and speechless expression, but once Whizzer had nudged him in the side and he quickly agreed.

And that’s how Emmett an antisocial introvert who only spoke up when he was required to (or it was in his job description), arranged a lunch with his estranged twin brother.

He had handed Elle back her phone, and regretfully denied a celebratory kiss and hug from her, instead he went off to pursue his mother. With whom he needed to apologise to.

Chapter Text

The Ex-Mormons Strike Back

A trio of Connor, Arnold and Chris (Poptarts) had coined themselves ‘The Ex-Mormons’ and despite their new name had spent the past hour dressing up as true Mormons.

Mormon missionaries to be exact and even though the trio had been excommunicated a little over a decade and a half ago, they hadn’t forgotten about their Heavenly Father approved uniforms. Crisp white collared shirts, clean black tie and pants and most notable their perfectly placed black badges.

Connor had fished out a time capsule he and the rest of the District Nine missionaries had created on their last day in Uganda, within the rusted biscuit tin was all of their badges, alongside polaroid photos of sunsets, a ‘text message’ from Naba and a disturbingly unchanged poptart. He handed each ex-Mormon their respective badge and for the first time in sixteen years Elder Thomas, Elder Cunningham and District Leader Elder McKinley had stood in a room together.

“Do you have a Book of Mormon I could borrow?” Poptarts shouted out from the kitchen, where he combed his hair using the reflective surface of the microwave door as a mirror. Connor was undoing his tie and pulling it back around his neck, he had never had much success at tying a tie.

“No, I don’t think so, I’m pretty sure I threw all mine into a well!” He called back, before considering, “Check Kevin’s room he might still have one!” He turned and saw Arnold swaying back and forth while he struggled to bend forward to tie his shoe, Connor moved down from the hall and to the kitchen entry.

“You do it! I don’t want to see Kevin’s secret stash of Disney porn.” Poptarts faced him and propped his hand on his hip, he gave Connor a smug look.

“You know he doesn’t have that.” The redhead shook his head, but he was vaguely aware of the way his face heated up at the suggestion.

“Have what?” Poptarts taunted with his eyebrow stuck high against his hairline.

Connor had no intention of entertaining Poptarts, so instead he sighed and made his way to Kevin’s room.

Kevin’s apartment wasn’t anything spectacular, it had the necessities with the addition of an extra room, a room Connor had been occupying. The walls were off-white, and the floors were covered in white tiles with black grit, the doors were painted white, and occasionally Connor wondered if the doors were actually wood under there.

He paused in front of Kevin’s door, he hadn’t been inside his room before, and there was a strange mixture of worry and excitement that swirled inside him, he considered that he probably shouldn’t impede on Kevin’s privacy, but he also couldn’t ignore his need to snoop.

And so, he turned the knob and entered the unknown.

The room was small, much like most of the rooms in his apartment, and a single bed split the room down the middle, the wall against its headboard had a window with the curtains drawn open. Connor’s head was on a swivel as he inspected the posters that lined one wall, and the bookshelf pressed against the opposite wall.

The bookshelf displayed a plethora of Disney collectibles and books, and Connor couldn’t help but remember what Poptarts had said to him. With a newly flushed face he walked around the bed and inspect the posters, it was more Disney and one Orlando one, as well as a System of a Down poster that stood out like a sore thumb amongst the pastels.

The ginger shook his head, “Stay on track McKinley.” He mumbled to himself. His eyes bounced around the room before they landed on a box beneath the bed, he got to his knees and pulled the cardboard box out.

He swiped his hand over the top like in the movies, (there wasn’t any dust on the box, so he hadn't any real reason to do it), and smiled at the words scribbled out in sharpie across the top.

“Elder Price Stuff.” Connor confirmed with a breath, he subconsciously traced the writing with his finger.

As Connor slipped his hands under the box’s wings memory flashes of Uganda, and more specifically Elder Price enveloped his mind.

How he had loved Uganda, and he was almost certain he was the only one, he pulled out Kevin’s bright pink dancing vest and laid it on his lap.

He laughed at it, he remembered the music they played from Elder Schrader’s MP3 player paired with the dances he would choreograph for the other elders. But his favourite memory was when they had convinced Elder Price (through vigorous peer pressure) to sing, and man could Elder Price sing.

Uganda had been the only place Connor had ever felt comfortable dancing, or singing, or wearing pink for that matter. It had remained the only place until he moved to NYC, with Kevin. He sighed.

Connor shuffled the items in the box, a book Connor recalled was one Kevin read cover to cover a hundred times during their mission, its name was unfamiliar to him The Pilgrim's Progress, and there were many black ties but singled out one. He rubbed the fabric, and he could feel scabs of dried stains across it, and then realisation struck him, and he quickly dropped the tie. He inspected his fingers slightly concerned at the prospect of sixteen-year-old dried blood coating his hand.

It fell half into the box and half out of it, and he carefully flicked it back inside, he cautiously picked up the stack of letters next to it. Then with gentle (hopefully clean) hands he untied the twine and folded open the first letter.

Immediately, Connor recognised the letter as one of Naba’s, Connor had received one just like this on their last day in Uganda. He looked through the open door behind him, he could just faintly hear Poptarts and Arnold conniving over a ‘game plan’. Connor recalled how Arnold had bawled when they were leaving, how he had promised Naba, he’d take her to Salt Lake one day, that he loved her. He had fulfilled his promise only three years later.

He folded it back up and slipped it to the back of the pile and behind Naba’s letter had been a photo. One of Kevin and his younger brothers and sisters, except Connor, wasn’t sure which one Kevin was. There were two identical teenagers standing behind the tweens and children. Though, he guessed Kevin was the one with the big smile and Whizzer was the one sneering.

“Oh, Kevin, you’re so stinking cute.” He snorted and opened the handwritten note behind it. His smile dropped.

“Kevin, my son, I have the misfortune of informing you that Michael has disobeyed Heavenly Father’s wishes, and by doing so abandoned our family. We wait impatiently for your return, but once you do, your brother will not be waiting for you. Kevin, you are our only eldest son now.” He read aloud. The world suddenly seemed very quiet, and very tense. He traced his finger over Kevin’s name, and then over Michael’s.

“Whizzer.” Kevin had told the group about Whizzer, back in Uganda he had told so many stories about him and Michael, but one day he just stopped, to the point where Connor had forgotten about Kevin's twin entirely. Until, he had stormed into his apartment in a panic and frantically explained how he had found Michael. Except, Michael wasn’t Michael anymore, he was Whizzer Brown.

With this newfound heaviness within him he set the letters down and removed the thin black book at the bottom of the box, then he put the items inside and shoved it back under the bed. He had gotten what he came for, Kevin’s Book of Mormon, or well his Book of Arnold as it read.

Connor didn’t bother looking back into the room as he left and shut the door tight.

“Here, he only had one and it says ‘The Book of Arnold’ on it.” Arnold cheered at the mention of his cult religion, and Connor walked back into the living room, and tossed Poptarts the black book from across the room. However, while in mid-flight a photo flew out of it and fell to the tiled floor like an autumn leaf from a tree.

Poptarts caught the book but quickly chased the photo, he swiped it up then smirked and gave Connor a look. What kind of look, Connor didn’t know, but knowing Poptarts it was either the response to something unfortunate or funny. (Or unfortunate, which makes it funny.)

Poptarts crossed the room to him, smirk ever present and handed him the photo.

Connor took it hesitantly and… it was him. It was Connor. It was a photo of Connor, he recognised the photo as one Kevin had taken of him whilst in the airport, it was right before they took their flight to NYC.

Connor wasn’t sure what his face looked like, but it certainly made Poptarts chuckle, he was probably red, scratch that, he was most definitely red. Poptarts took the photo back and slipped in back into the book, and Connor made his way to the door.

“Forget Disney, y’know what he probably does with that photo?” Poptarts taunted.

“Let’s go.” Connor ignored, his pace towards the door quickening.

“He totally uses it to-”

“We’re going now!” Connor interrupted and waved his arm back and forth like he was rushing them out the door.

~~~

Jason sulked in his dad’s apartment, he slumped further into the couch choosing to ‘forget’ about his new assignment. His teacher had told him to write an apology letter, but Jason didn’t see any reason to apologise, so he sulked. His chess set sat fully prepared and organised a mere few feet away, but that was few feet too many, never mind the fact he had no desire to play by himself. If his dad was at home, he would’ve played a game with him (and won of course), but his dad was at work, and Whizzer couldn’t play.

He heard Whizzer pacing from one room to another, he had asked what he’d been up to, but only received a rushed ‘I’m busy’. Jason guessed it was something work related as he watched Whizzer fumble by with a stack of papers, a photo or two flying out and leaving a trail behind him. He disappeared deeper into the apartment.

The teen yawned loud and hard, his eyes felt heavy, and his muscles felt bruised, he wasn’t sure anything could cure his boredom, that was until he heard the doorbell ring.

Jason didn’t move from his position of uncomfortable lounging, but his eyes followed Whizzer as he popped his head out from the hall and whispered,

“Who’s there?” Jason shrugged in response and Whizzer sighed and went to open the door. The door clicked and Whizzer opened it three thirds of the way, it revealed on the other side two men in pressed white shirts and black trousers, they had identical black ties and nametags.

The taller of the two (a ginger with blue eyes Jason noticed) went red at the sight of Whizzer, and Jason internally groaned, he hated when people had that reaction to Whizzer. He hated how men swooned over his dad’s boyfriend, or well his dad’s fiancé, he wished people could just stop, stop like everything.

Before either man could speak a word Whizzer very pointedly said “I’m gay.” And slammed the door shut. He turned from the front door and pulled an exasperated face at Jason. “Mormons.” He complained with a strange exaggeration of the ‘r’ consonant.

“Well, actually we’re gay too!” One of the men had shouted through the door, it muffled his words, but Whizzer grumbled and spun back around.

The door clicked open, “I’m Jewish.” It slammed closed again, and Jason chuckled and that had momentarily made Whizzer smile, before he rushed back to his office again.

Jason sat up at the sound of muffled talking outside the front door, he wondered if they were going to ring the doorbell again, he took quiet steps to the door and pressed his ear against it.

“What are we going to do?” One voice questioned.

“I’m still hung up on the Jewish thing, Kevin’s not Jewish.” The other spoke with amusement.

“Maybe he converted to Judaism after leaving the church?” The first voice theorised, and that made the cogs in Jason’s head turn. Did they know Whizzer? Who the heck is Kevin? He side stepped to where the window was and peaked cautiously though the curtain.

The shorter man with dirty blond hair fiddled with the book he held, and for a split-second Jason swore it had the word ‘Mormon’ crossed out.

“Let’s ignore it, like we’re ignoring the fact you’re bright red.” He said and turned to face the door, the redheaded man flush deepened and his hands moved to loosen his tie slightly.

“I can’t control it,” He tried to defend, he somehow looked redder than before.

“He’s not even Kevin, why are you blushing?” Jason tilted his head, he really wanted to know who Kevin was and what these Mormons had to do with Whizzer.

“He’s Kevin’s identical twin and his shirt is undone.” Jason froze, not at the suggestion that Whizzer’s ‘cleavage’ turned some random Mormon on, but Whizzer had a twin, an identical twin at that. Jason looked back into the house, no one was there, but a creeping crawling sensation tickled at his neck and ankles, he knew something he shouldn’t. The Mormons (wait did that mean every time Whizzer said he was half Jewish his other half was Mormon?) kept talking, the blond teasing the redhead. 

“It was like three buttons, get over it.” Jason squinted at them and tried to listen.

“Just, let’s just- we’ll get Arnold to try. Where is he?” The freckled one fumbled, he was obviously trying to change the subject.

“Keeping watch, I told him to make sure Whizzer’s boyfriend doesn’t come home.” The shorter man said with smugness, and Jason furrowed his brow he didn’t like the strange Mormon men talking about his dad.

“…We don’t know what he looks like… or if he’s already in there.” The ginger Mormon questioned shaking his head slowly.

“Shhhh, I’m texting Arnold.” He quickly cut-off the other and he held a finger up at him shushing him.

Jason pulled away from the window and the curtain swooshed back from where he had tugged it aside.

Arnold was probably just another Mormon right? Another strange man in black trousers and white dress shirt. Jason had never come in contact with a Mormon missionary, if that’s what they really were, and had never really come in contact with Mormonism at all. In fact, every time Mormonism was mentioned at all Whizzer would groan and his dad would laugh. Two dots connected within Jason’s head, maybe Whizzer really was twin brothers with this ‘Kevin’, and therefore also half-Mormon which would explain his afflictions towards the religion. Though, that wouldn’t explain why he’d never met him, or why he’d never even heard Whizzer talk about him. This felt wrong, this felt secretive, like maybe Kevin was a secret spy or-

There was talking again, muffled talking from outside. Jason peeked through the curtain once more. The redhead and the blond Mormons were still standing there but now they were accompanied by an even shorter man with thick black curls, he wore the same Mormon get-up and black rimmed glasses. This was Arnold, Jason presumed, he hadn’t envisioned much except for Mormon man, but he was presently surprised by the pen that sat in Arnold’s pocket.

From what he could see it was a Chewbacca pen where the fur was actual faux fibre fur and Jason could appreciate a fellow Star Wars fan. Star Wars was one of Jason’s favourite things, he shared his love for it with his father, and he cherished every time they would watch The Empire Strikes back. They would lounge on the couch, Whizzer would fall asleep in the first ten seconds and he and his dad would just watch, except his dad was always busy now. He was always busy; Jason wasn’t sure he even noticed him anymore.

As Jason watched the new Mormon missionary reach for the doorknob an idea struck him.

He rushed to the door and swung it open, even before the doorbell ringed. He was met with two faces of shock and one face that smiled.

“Hi! I’m Elder Cunningham!” He announced a smidge too loudly, and Jason smiled back at him with a mouthful of braces.

“I’m Jason.” He said simply, not bothering to look at the other two Mormons. “I like your pen, do you want to watch Star Wars with me?” He smiled and he hadn’t realised that his words left his mouth slightly slurred, Jason was the only person who didn’t know Jason had a lisp.

Arnold, or well, Elder Cunningham beamed at him and nodded his head energetically, and Jason glanced at the appalled faces either side of him. He quickly clarified,

“Not you two, just him. I don’t want you ogling over my dad’s boyfriend, and you seem like a prick.” The dirty blond had scoffed, and the redhead went red once more, but Elder Cunningham didn’t seem to mind as he waved off his missionary compatriots and followed Jason into the house. The pair flopped onto the couch (it was ugly but incredibly comfortable, his dad had picked it out) and Jason spared no time pulling up The Empire Strikes Back on the TV. Arnold sat back on the couch as happy as a camper could be, crossed his legs and toyed with his Chewbacca pen.

Jason slumped down beside him, and despite the fact that he was a total stranger (and a Mormon), he felt oddly comfortable with him, perhaps it was his joyful aura or the kiddish grin he wore.

He watched as Arnold held the pen to his ear and a slight whisper of a voice emanated from it.

“What’s that?” He couldn’t help but ask, and Arnold tore his eyes from the screen, he gave him a ‘hm?’ face. “What does it say?”

He laughed, “Oh, it’s- well, it’s actually my favourite pen because it can record, which is super cool, but also,” His way of talking was more stumbling around words than talking but Jason couldn’t do much better, he presented the pen to Jason. It felt fuzzy in his hands, and he pressed the audio button on the side.

“I love you.” The prerecorded message played, it was a woman’s voice, and she had an accent Jason couldn’t place, he liked it though, it tickled his brain. He looked up to meet glances with Arnold, who smiled even wider.

“That’s Narwal-arena, sorry, sorry, Naba, Nabulungi. It’s a running joke in my friend group that I can’t pronounce her name, though I don’t think they know it’s a joke. But that’s Naba, my girlfriend, she recorded that, that message for me when we had to be part for a long time. I love it. I, I mean I also love her too, of course. She’s great, so great.” He literally twiddled his thumbs, and he had a loving look in his eyes, one produced by just the thought of his girlfriend.

“Can Mormons have girlfriends?” Jason asked, and semi-ignored the urge to talk about how the look in his eyes reminded him of the way his dad looked at Whizzer.

“I’m not actually Mormon, not anymore, I’m technically an Ex-Mormon but also, I’m the prophet of Arnoldism. We were only pretending to be Mormons so that Chris can prank Whizzer and Connor can make Kevin laugh.” He explained as if that made any sense, which it did not. Jason turned back to the TV unsure of what to respond with.

“What are you even doing at home anyways? It’s the middle of the day aren’t you supposed to be at school?” He asked, still as chipper as before. Jason paused, mulling over telling the truth or coming up with an excuse,

“No, Whizzer took me home, I… got into a fight. That’s why he’s not at work right now.” The young boy shrugged; he felt that sensation of guilt fall upon him again.

“You want to tell me about it? I got picked on all the time in high school. I sometimes still get picked on.”

“Yeah, okay.”

~~~

I was loitering, hugging the walls really. I mean the last thing I wanted to do was go to class and see my teacher’s stupid face. Drama’s not even a real subject anyways, just something dumb Dad made me sign up for. I don’t usually skip classes but Drama’s just, just, I hate, it’s not good. I hate it, all of it. Makes me want to fit, y’know.

Not to mention my teacher LOVES to keep me in, I did not want to be kept in. I’d for real fit if he kept me in, again.

Sorry, back on track, I had to make sure no teachers were around, so I slinked every corner and took refuge in bathrooms and hallway closets, I know, covert stuff, made me feel like I was undercover.

But, so, I was hiding in one of the boys’ bathrooms, uh, the largest one, and I’m not the only kid that skips of course so there were other boys in there. Three dudes actually, big dudes, I think they’re a year above me, one has this nasty scar over his lips and the other looks more pig than person.  

Then Scarface had the gall to say I was disgusting, and then they started yelling things about my dad and Whizzer. I yelled back, in hindsight probably not the smartest choice, but I yelled back, cruel things like they were yelling at me.

Their words were ringing around in my head, and I swear the walls and floor were spiraling around me and all I could focus on was this pig-faced freak in front of me getting closer with his personal Crab and Goyle behind him. I felt like I was drowning, like I'd dunked my head under water.

FYI, Whizzer has been coaching me through all my baseball games and giving me lessons, so when I grabbed the mop next to me, I put the lessons to use. I swung and it let out this crack, just like the ball against the bat.

And then I ran, I could basically hear the rest of the family yelling at me to run, like they would at one of my games.

Then an hour later they found me in a janitors closet hiding, and Whizzer had to come take me home.

~~~

Jason saw something glint in Arnold’s eyes like a moment of cloudiness getting replaced by clarity. His face softened,

“I can tell when people make things up, Jason, I have a lot of experience making things up.”

Now, Jason was intrigued. Every other adult that knew had believed him, they always believed him, and they believed this story, this one half of it, so who was this ex-Mormon in front of him, and why could he of all people see through him?

Did this mean he had to tell the truth? Surely, not? But maybe, just maybe, Arnold Cunningham would listen. 

Jason smiled, and he had laughed as Arnold explained how he had accidently lied to an entire village about clit-noses and AIDS frogs, he had been so distracted by this bouncing bumbling Chewbacca lover in front of him. So distracted he hadn’t noticed when Whizzer walked back into the living room, paused to watch a seemingly Mormon stranger and his not-quite son watching The Empire Strikes Back, then Whizzer had taken two steps backwards and swiftly retreated.

Chapter Text

Watercolour Eyes

Kevin paced around his living room, circling around the dark wooden coffee table he had gotten off the side of the street that one time. He had drawn all the curtains in his apartment and turned off anything that made notable noise. Connor hadn’t made a peep or appearance in several hours, so Kevin had assumed he was asleep.

He held his cell phone in his left and therefore also held the one source of noise in the entire apartment, this noise was the worst of them all.

It was the noise of a pleading whining brat called Whizzer Brown.

“Kevin please, you have to do this for me.” Whizzer whined through the call, Kevin pinched the bridge of his nose, despite how the room had been beyond silent, Kevin had felt the throbbing onset of a migraine.

“Wait, explain it to me again.” Kevin murmured.

“My partner’s son is having a parent teacher interview, he’s being acting out but he’s a great kid, and Marvin couldn’t go so he asked me, and I also can’t go but I told him I could. So, please switch with me?” Whizzer had practically pleaded, and it wasn’t a tone Kevin had ever heard his brother use before. Mostly because Whizzer had never asked much of anything of Kevin.

“Switch? Are you serious? We aren’t twelve anymore Whizzer.” He could feel his head aching in irritation. “I don’t know you anymore, what makes you think I can be you again?” There was a prolonged sigh on the other line.

“You didn’t know me back then either and you did fine, just, just be me.” Then Kevin had rolled his eyes, even though no one could actually see him, oh be him what helpful advice.

There was a family photo hung on the wall, a family portrait Kevin cherished, one he spent so much time starring at simply because it was the only family photo he had that included everyone in his family. And considering Mormon families, that meant it was a very full photo taken from further back than most.

He paced by it but stopped to look it over. Kevin’s side of the family was on the left, his aunt’s family in the middle and his uncle’s side on the right. He huffed when he saw himself and Whizzer sitting neatly next to each other.

“Why can’t you go yourself? Instead of getting me to do a gag from The Parent Trap.”  Kevin tapped his foot, and he could just about recall every time Whizzer had wronged him. Or every time he’d been slightly annoying, or incredibly annoying.

“I have an appointment I need to go to, it’s really important. Marv, he doesn’t know about it.” Whizzer explained quietly, hesitantly and Kevin couldn’t help but frown at the two tiny identical fourteen-year-old faces on his wall.

“You… have an appointment?” He replied skeptically. ‘I have an appointment’ was one of the most overused excuses in the book, right alongside ‘My dog ate my homework’ and ‘My Aunt Patty is in the hospital’.

“Don’t ask what for, but it’s important and Marvin can’t know that I’m still, I’m still not… doing okay.” Whizzer sounded off, and Kevin wasn’t so sure this was an excuse anymore. He licked his lips. “Kevin, you owe me, right? Right? That was something we said?” His regular cadence returned, and almost as if he couldn’t have one without the other, so did Kevin’s headache.

“…Fine.” He finally gritted through his teeth. His gaze gently glided from one familiar face to another, until it landed back on him and Whizzer. To him and Michael. He exhaled, and heard but didn’t quite listen to Whizzer’s appreciative thankyous. Because, and he’d never admit this, but even so it was undeniably true, Kevin missed Michael.

Kevin missed Michael, he missed the twin he shared his childhood with, the one who sat with him while they were both supposed to be studying scripture but found drawing doodles of well doodles in his book more entertaining. The twin who spent far too much time staring into chic boutiques and talking about fabric types, the twin who spent more time getting ready in the bathroom than all their sisters combined.

The twin who liked Kevin. Since, Kevin knew Michael loved him, but he wasn’t so sure about Whizzer. Whizzer was a stranger that shared his face. Whizzer was a stranger. 

His eyes dropped to the floor, and all his senses returned to him in one big shock wave. The first thing he noticed was how exceptionally quiet it was. It had been so silent in fact that the usually ignorable ringing in Kevin’s ears became all so slightly more noticeable. This ringing was a byproduct of the gunshots he had been witness to in Uganda, the shots fired by the General and his lackies. A cold blanket fell over Kevin, and he felt the prickle of goosebumps raise across his arms and neck.

Ringing was all he could hear, almost like it grew louder without ever changing at all, it was ringing and ringing then-

There was a noise.

Kevin turned, he only now noticed he had been breathing heavier, he stopped. It was a muffled sound, like a whimper or hum. He blinked, still looking blankly down the hall.

He swallowed, he licked his lips. Then he trailed down the hall and knocked on a certain redhead’s door. After all, he needed someone to complain to and talking to someone would fill the silence that straight up tortured Kevin.

There was no answer, and Kevin considered for a moment that he might be asleep still, he mulled over just checking but then a small voice behind the door gave him permission to enter.

“Hello?” He whispered as he slowly cracked the door open, he saw Connor sitting on his bed rubbing at his eyes, Kevin smiled.

“You would not believe what my brother’s making me do tomorrow.” He happily sunk next to Connor on his bed, Connor sniffled, and Kevin’s body went still.

Connor was crying.

“Con-Connor?” He asked his voice croaky; he feared that Connor might fall apart if he raised his voice even a little. Connor sniffled again but pulled away his hand to face Kevin, and Kevin just about teared up at the sight of Connor’s reddened puffy face, he wanted so badly to wipe away the wet lines that crossed his freckles.

“What am I going to do?” He murmured to Kevin, but it sounded more directed to the world, to some divine figure, someone bigger than the both of them. A million different ideas about what Connor was talking about bubbled in his mind, but each one popped as he couldn’t seem to put it together.

“I don’t understand? What’s wrong?” Kevin shook his head, and he watched in concerned confusion as more tears welled up in the other’s deep blue eyes. His face contorted into one that physically pained Kevin, he then broke eye contact and hid his face in his hands.

“I can’t go back and I can’t stay here.” He had admitted and wiped his nose with the back of his hand.

“Oh.” Was all Kevin could muster, a lightbulb flashed awake within his head.

Connor had come out to his parents just over two months ago, their little Mormon hearts hadn’t taken it well, so they decided to let them cool down, so Connor had taken refuge with Kevin in NYC. He wanted to avoid his family for a few weeks, that’s all. That’s all.

There was a pang in Kevin’s heart, “That’s all.” he whispered and Connor hadn’t noticed.

“If I stay here my family won’t talk to me again, but,” He huffed, and Kevin diverted his eyes to stare into his hands, much like Connor was now doing to his own.

“I can’t turn it off anymore.” Kevin clenched his jaw at Connor’s words, he watched his hands and traced imaginary lines across the creases of his palms. He obviously knew what Connor was referring to, after all he and the rest of the Elders had created a whole musical number about it. Though he was unsure of what to make of it, did this mean that Connor couldn’t ignore that he was gay anymore? Or that he couldn’t ignore the bad feelings he felt? Or both? Neither?

Kevin must’ve taken too long to reply, as Connor spoke again.

“I can’t go back to being Elder McKinley, I can’t go back to who I was, because if I went back to Utah, if I went back to them, then that’s surely who I’d end up being. I’d cave under the pressure of being Mormon, and being, being something, I’m not supposed to be.” His words got clearer as he continued, though the air around them remained tense.

“I love being me.” Connor laughed, except the laugh soon turned into a breathy weep, Kevin raised his head and Connor turned towards him folding his legs up beneath him, they were at eye-level now. There were newly formed tears falling down each one of his cheeks.

“I love being me,” He repeated, the unfiltered sound of hurt in his voice tore Kevin up inside, he raised his hand to wipe away the other man’s tears, but he quickly diverted his touch and placed his hand on his shoulder.

Kevin had opened his mouth to speak, except, no words came out and suddenly he was aware of how dry his mouth and throat felt. He tried to swallow, though it was as if all the moisture within him had evaporated in mere seconds.

“I love dancing and taking classes,” He rocked slightly through his tears and Kevin tried to steady him, he placed his other hand on his other shoulder. “I love vulgar music and movies where people die in the end.” Connor wore this split expression; he was smiling wide but huffing in shallow breaths and pouring tears from both eyes. “I love laughing how I laugh and talking how I want to talk, and I love the places here.”

The deep blue of Connor’s eyes were a wash of watercolours like that of a great wide sea as it reaches out to the sun and kisses the horizon. They were filled with clarity and filled with shimmering crystal tears. Kevin was bewitched, never had he seen something so beautiful. They stared into each other’s eyes and Kevin frowned at the knowledge that Connor’s view wasn’t so enthralling.

Connor’s gaze fell, his blue eyes ripping away from Kevin’s brown, and he watched as his lip trembled, “I want a boyfriend, I’d like to have a boyfriend, someone I could keep and hold and kiss, someone who likes me.” Kevin scanned his face, before letting his eyes dart away. He wanted that too.  He wanted, he looked back into Connor’s eyes, he wanted-

The spark in his eyes changed, it dulled, and the tenseness in the air returned. “But I love my family, even if my family loves Elder McKinley.”

Kevin was so close to Connor that he could see the muscles in his jaw tighten as the other grinded his teeth. His hands slipped down his shoulders and rubbed at his arms ever so slightly.

“They haven’t had the chance to meet Connor McKinley yet, when they do, they won’t want to trade you for anything.” Kevin tilted his head, he wasn’t too sure how to comfort Connor, he didn’t have the best track record considering he had succeeded in making every Ugandan kid he’d ever tried to talk to cry. Incessantly.

“Hah,” Connor puffed, he let his head fall to the side, orange hair fell over his forehead in soft strands and Kevin had to fight the urge to reach out and tuck them back into place.

“I don’t think they can meet Connor, I don’t want them to, to tarnish him.” He shook his head in frustration, and Kevin winced at Connor’s exasperation.

“It’s just so hard to explain, and it’s not like yo-” He blinked and laughed.

“Who am I kidding, you know exactly what I’m going through.” Connor looked like he was going to break down. Kevin’s eyes were blown wide, he stammered.

“I, huh, what? I don’t know what you mean? I-I’m n-, I mean.” Was this is it? Was this the elusive gaydar he’d heard rumours of? All this time he’d thought it was merely an urban legend, like Dropbears in Australia, or Wendigos in Canada, or free healthcare. But to think that Connor had activated his gaydar and used it on Kevin! Connor could not know Kevin was, well, gay. That would just be, well, it’d be, Kevin wasn’t quite sure what that would mean but-

“Y’know, with Whizzer, he’s gay and your parents, they kicked him out. Remember?”

“Oh, oh.” Kevin trailed off his mouth stuck in a small little ‘o’. He hadn’t actually ever been told what Whizzer had done, just that he had abandoned their family and Heavenly Father, later he had discovered he was gay. Kevin knew one surely came before the other, but he hadn’t connected the dots. Whizzer was kicked out because he was gay.

His mouth felt dry again, he licked his lips.

A fleet of memories flashed in a flurry of seconds within Kevin’s head, memories of the confused pain when he had received their letter about Whizzer, about when he’d received his own letter telling him not to come home. Then the message he’d gotten from Jack apologising, and the one from Whizzer inviting him.

But suddenly, it all made sense. He focused his eyes, reality returned to him, his head swayed now heavy with thoughts, he ignored them.

Connor, focus on Connor, he reminded himself, absently aware of the fact that it wasn’t something he usually had issues with.

“Well, I know that I wouldn’t trade you for anything.” He spoke gently and gave a reassuring squeeze to his shoulders. Connor’s face softened and his ocean blue eyes glittered, Kevin felt his heart warm as Connor’s lips curved into a close smile.

“That right there is how I know I’m talking to Kevin Price and not Elder Price, ‘cause Elder Price would never admit there was someone better than him.” He leaned forwards letting his muscles loosen, Kevin’s heart rate spiked, and he leaned away.

“Yeah, I hate that guy.” He joked back, sharing the same slight smile as Connor.

“I wouldn’t trade you for Elder Price, he… was kinda a dick. I like you better when you’re you.” Connor said playfully, he dragged his fingers up Kevin’s wrist and let his hand lay on top of Kevin’s. If Kevin’s brain was a computer, it would have crashed and then exploded.

“I like you too.” He had replied without a second thought, though immediately began to backtrack.

“-I mean! I like you! And I like Arn and Chris and James and-I like lots of things of course, not just you, of course.” Kevin snatched both of his hands away and held them up in a defensive open-palmed gesture. He smiled awkwardly.

“Of course.” Connor repeated his beautiful watercolour eyes not meeting Kevin’s eyes. Kevin had no problem looking at Connor, especially as Connor flushed, Kevin stopped smiling however as Connor’s blush deepened.

Connor was quite literally red, redder than his hair and redder than Dorothy’s shoes.

“Uh, Con?” Kevin asked with a twinge of concern, “Are you okay? You’re very red.”

“Oh, urh, it’s a sunburn?” The redhead choked, not even a fraction less red.

“Connor, you’ve been inside all day.” He rose and eyebrow but ultimately smirked at him with infatuation.

“I was on facetime with the sun?”