Dedicated to LPCollins as so many of my writings are.
Keep in mind this is a modern fic :D
Nothing but fluff, so...
Enjoy~

Whizzer didn't know how he ended up there, he just knew he was originally cleaning out their bedroom while Marvin was out for work. Perhaps he had found an old memory that led him to look for more. Dusty though it was, he was capable of finding some old boxes from his parents easily.

The tall male decided that bringing the boxes into down into the living room would be the smartest idea so that he wouldn't be cramped in the small room. That, and Whizzer was sure the dust was getting to his brain, not to mention the constant sneezing.

By the time the last of the five boxes was brought down, the sun was beginning to set. Marvin would be home soon, but Whizzer didn't mind. He wasn't put under the stress of being forced to cook every night anymore. Over the two years they... took a break, Trina had the decency to teach Marvin to cook a bit, so that he could take care of himself.

It wasn't until the first two boxes' contents were spilled around the room with Whizzer sitting in the middle of it all, that the front door opened.

"Hey, Whiz, what's this?"

"Hm?" The said man looked up from the old journal he was flipping through. "Oh, some old boxes from my parents. Apparently, my old English teacher convinced me to start a poetry book."

Whizzer tossed the book he was holding to his boyfriend, who caught it with semi-ease. He skimmed a few pages, before speaking again.

"You were such an angsty teen," Marvin started before reading out a line. "'The one speck of light may be put out by the winds that suffocate me'? I mean, seriously, what was going on back then?"

The man on the floor fell back, laughter erupting from him until he was hiccuping. Marvin raised a brow at him, waiting until he had caught his breath for an explanation.

"That..." Whizzer gasped for breath, "that was when I lost my school's spelling bee back in 6th grade. I thought everyone would tease me about it, but literally no one cared."

Marvin smiled fondly, though he teased, "Ah yes, Whizzer Brown, the drama queen since puberty."

"It started way before that. If you think my poetry was bad, you should've seen my sense of style. It was possibly worse than yours."

It was Marvin's turn to laugh as he joined his boyfriend in the living area, removing some of the old tissue paper from packaging from the couch before sitting. He took in the cluttered floor around him, where old books and toys littered about. There were still unopened boxed that had text on the side, identifying them; Photos, Old Clothes, and the last one read CDs and Tapes.

"I think I'll be needing proof," Marvin finally said, pointing to the taped box that held the photos.

Whizzer found the scissors to open the box, carefully cutting along the crease and opening the cardboard flaps. They were, however, slammed back down the moment anything could be seen. He let out a groan, hiding his face in his hands. On top of the photo stack were his graduation photos, when puberty seemed to drag on for 10 years and his face was littered with acne.

"I regret this already."

Marvin only found that more the reason to want to look. Pulling the box closer to him and lugging it up onto the couch's pillows, he let out a laugh at his lover's embarrassment. "I'm sure I can find some pictures of little me, if you wanted." He wasn't serious, he had no idea where he'd find any of his old albums, but it at least brought the signature smirk back to Whizzer's face. That was, until he opened the box again; "Oh wow."

The younger Whizzer from the photo was adorned in graduation robes, with one arm around a blond girl and the other high in the air in a stance of victory. Acne was dusted down his pinkish cheeks, but his ever-dazzling grin seemed to prove he didn't care. The absence of a graduation cap revealed the mess that was young Whizzer's hair, which was slightly longer; there was an attempt made to comb it all back, but there were some loose strands sticking out, and a few fell over his eyes. The mocha-brown eyes staring directly at the camera were the same ones that Marvin loved staring into, and they now seemed to sparkle with self-pride and joy.

Marvin smiled at the picture. "You were so cute and innocent, what happened?" He teased.
Whizzer let out an embarrassed huff and glared.
Marvin continued, however, "What I believe happened... was that you grew up into a handsome man I can now call mine."
"You're so cheesy," his lover said, grinning up at him from the floor.
"You love me anyway."
"And you love me too, so I see no problem in that."

They shared a loving gaze, wondering how it had all come to be so perfect. That was, until Marvin gave a cheeky grin and dove back into the box of photos. Whizzer had eventually gotten uncomfortable on the floor and accompanied his boyfriend in looking at old photos. They found evidence of family gatherings, Whizzer's middle school years ("C'mon, even I knew that yellow and purple don't go together." "It was just middle school, nobody told me these things!"), old Halloween costumes, the wedding pictures of his parents, and eventually found the baby pictures.

"Which one's you?" Marvin asked, pulling out a photo of a woman in a hospital gown holding two babies and was absolutely beaming. Her husband stood next to the hospital bed she lay in, with a matching facial expression.

"Dunno, not even sure who the other one is," Whizzer responded, taking the picture for himself. Flipping it over, he saw his birthdate written; October 26, 1988 (Author: he seems like a Scorpio to me). There was also written in neat letters across the bottom; If found, call +1 ###-###-####.

Marvin had also noticed the little note, and shrugged. "Maybe you should call the number. What's the worst that could happen, right? If they don't know what you're talking about, say the number must've been changed over the years and apologize. If it's the right person, then ask why they wrote the number."

Whizzer sighed. "Fine, let me get my phone." He stood, using his foot to brush a path in the junk that still lay on the floor. Returning moments later, he returned with the phone on speaker, having already dialed in the number. By the third ring, he was pacing the floor and sending side glances to Marvin, who simply gave him a thumbs up. Before the fourth and last ring could play through, a click was heard and-
"Hello?"