Iridescent | bom and falsettos oneshots

♟ Pint of Sam Adams

𝚋𝚊𝚛𝚝𝚎𝚗𝚍𝚎𝚛/𝚋𝚊𝚛 𝙰𝚄

Whizzer was at work, just like any other night. He would much rather be working somewhere else, like at a bakery, somewhere where he could emphasize his creativity. He had majored in fashion and design in college and loved making things look pretty. Plus, he was damn good at baking. His apartment always smelled like cookies that just came out of the oven.

His best friend, Cordelia, was always over making her "fine cuisine" and making his apartment smell different every single time he walked in. They were best friends and money was always tight, so they decided to move in together. And now, here they were.

Whizzer wiped down the bar counter with a wet cloth, clearing it of any crumbs or wet spots from the drinks he had already served. It had been a really quiet night, but it was a Thursday evening, so it made sense.

The bells that hung above the door rang as a customer walked in, that same little jingle making his gaze shoot over to whoever entered. It usually was the same people every week, so Whizzer always knew each of his customers. But for some reason, he had no clue who this man was.

The man who had just walked in was intriguing. His arms were buff and strong, filling out his plaid long-sleeved shirt nicely. His eyes looked the colour of the March birthstone, the aquamarine. Under the dim lights that hung from the ceiling, little gold specs appeared in the irises, making him look like something out of a book; a demigod, perhaps.
The man's curly hair framed his chiseled face perfectly, a couple strands falling over his eye. Whizzer could only imagine what was underneath that shirt of his, because if his face looked that good, then holy hell, Whizzer couldn't even fantasize about what his body might look like.

Whizzer watched as the man sat down at the end of the bar, away from two other people that sat in the middle. It seemed like he didn't want to talk to anyone, but this was Whizzer's job, to make the experience at City Taverns enjoyable. Whizzer made his way over to the man, keeping his posture tall and inviting.

"Hi, welcome to City Taverns!" He smiled. "Can I get you anything to drink?"

The man looked up, his eyes instantly lighting up, studying Whizzer's face. "Um, yeah. That'd be nice. Can I have a Sam Adams?" He asked weakly.

Whizzer nodded, but staying in his spot. "Are you alright? You don't seem like you are."

"It's my wife... I can't fucking stand her. She's always on my case and I just want a fucking divorce," he scoffed, adjusting his red tie. Whizzer was appalled by his choice in fashion and felt like he was going to projectile vomit from the colour combination.

But Whizzer just poured the drink the strange man asked for, handing it to him after some of the foam had gone down. "Bad day, huh?"

"You have no idea..."

"What's your name, hun?" Whizzer asked, picking up a clean rag and starting to dry a wet beer glass.

The man smiled marginally, taking a sip of his Sam Adams. "Marvin. Marvin Newville. I just moved here a couple weeks ago with my wife and my son. I got transferred here for work from Boston."

"Marvin... I like it. The name suits you. And that would explain why I've never seen you here before. I know every soul who walks in and out of here." Whizzer shot him a smile.

"And what's your name, princess?" Marvin asked, leaning forward on his elbows.

Whizzer turned bright red, slowly setting the now dry glass back where it belonged. No one had ever called him such a name before, but it was cute. Hot, too.
"My name is Whizzer..." he said, his voice trailing off from how much that little pet name affected him. "Brown! Sorry. I'm Whizzer Brown."