Archive of Our Own

Chapter Text

Gyro had never been too big a fan of cafeterias. They were cold and too clean and he felt rushed to finish so some other poor soul could take his place. Hard plastic chairs and fluorescent lighting also did nothing for the atmosphere. He liked to take his time when he ate. Settle down, enjoy the food and wine in a warm room, maybe have nice conversation with some pretty companion. None of that was about to happen in a hospital cafeteria but it didn’t mean he couldn’t dream of a future where doctors were allowed just a half glass of wine at work.

“You’re frowning at your food again.”

Gyro looked up at Harriet Palacios, better known as Harry, better known as H.P. It took Gyro weeks to learn her real name, but it still felt unnatural to call her by it. “The spaghetti insults me as an Italian and as a man.”

H.P rolled her eyes and set her tray down. Gyro had (eventually) learned to appreciate her (disdainful) company. They didn’t see each other all the time, which probably helped. She was a children’s case worker, which meant she sometimes had to come to the hospital where Gyro worked to see clients and conduct interviews of the children and parents who ended up here under suspicious causes. To be honest, Gyro hadn’t liked her at first. She had accused him of taken her bagged lunch which was ridiculous because Gyro hated roast beef. He hated her for two months. They made up after one of Gyro’s patients ended up being a kid she was dealing with, and now they ate together when she was in. Gyro had already made dozens of friends since he transferred to this hospital and moved to America four months ago, but he didn’t really like any of them.

“Does it? Well there are other places to get food you know. Outside of the hospital. Leave the shitty food for those of us who didn’t grow up on Italy’s finest.”

“I don’t know what cafés are around here,” Gyro pouted, poking at his very sad meat balls. “I’m not familiar with this city yet.”

“You’ve been here a while, what have you been doin’?”

“I’m busy! I’m a brain surgeon!” Gyro waved his hands around emphatically. “My free time is spent sleeping and praying for better meatballs!”

H.P snorted into her orange juice. “Well, from what I’ve heard, you’ve had enough free time to spend with some very pretty nurses.”

Gyro collapsed into his seat and folded his arms. “It hasn’t been that many, has it?”

“If you’ve lost track, then yeah.”

“Well, that’s not as time consuming as combing Philadelphia for restaurants I like!”

“Google is a thing, you know. You have that in the old country, right?”

Gyro ignored her and kept going. “I just want some good Italian style espresso. I make it myself all the time but it just tastes better when someone else makes it, you know?”

“No, I don’t. I prefer to make my own food.” H.P gestured towards her tray. “The only reason this is happening is because I took a case last minute. Didn’t have time to run to the deli.” H.P stabbed her chicken with her fork. Gyro flinched. She looked up at him, her eyes oddly thoughtful. Gyro felt worried by the gears in her head. “But, if you’re interested, I do know a good café just down the block from here. They got your espresso, and sandwiches and stuff. If you’re finally ready to go somewhere else besides the hospital and your apartment.”

“Don’t be cruel. I’m just a nervous immigrant trying to make it in the promised land.” He said, twirling his fork around in sad, room temperature noodles of shame and hate. It wasn’t like Gyro hadn’t explored the city. He had always been a bit adventurous, and now that he was finally free from his home town and academia he had fun finding new hangouts. Clubs that played the music he liked, restaurants that served the food he enjoyed and all kinds of hidden places full of interesting things and people. But after a while, constantly finding new things and finding himself on new streets reminded him just how far he was from home. Everything was unfamiliar, compared to the hometown he had memorized. And the people! He had already known everyone in his city and their uncles and aunts and great great grandmas. He knew their lives, their histories and their ancestries. Gyro liked to know things but he would have never described himself as someone who needed to know everything. But suddenly knowing so little was jarring.

H.P gently kicked his shin under the table. “It’s called Sycamore, about three blocks south from here.”

“Well don’t you know things.” Gyro huffed. “Fine, I’ll go tomorrow. And it better be good.”

It rained the next three days, during Gyro’s only lunch hour. Gyro forgot his umbrella every time and had another very sad three lunches in the cafeteria. H.P wasn’t even there to listen to him whine. Her casework had moved her to a different area of the city and left Gyro to talk to Wekapipo, the hospitals head of security. Gyro had known him back in Italy but he had left years ago after a ‘scandal’ involving his sister and her husband. After they divorced, Wekapipo quit his police job and took her and himself to America. Gyro’s father had gotten him this job, as the Zeppelis owned half the hospital. He wasn’t as fun to talk to as H.P., which wasn’t saying much.

The fourth day the skies were just as gray but it hadn’t rained yet. Figured today was when Gyro remembered his umbrella.

“Guess who’s finally gonna get some decent food!” Gyro smiled at Wekapipo at his post as he swung his umbrella around. “Want a scone?”

“A croissant.” He grumbled, not looking up from the newspaper.

“Alrighty, ya sad sack.” Gyro was in a good mood. He had finally finished unpacking yesterday, and he was going to get some Italian coffee that he hadn’t made and a sandwich that didn’t have the texture of rubber. He couldn’t help but smile at everyone he saw. Most of them smiled back. Some crossed the street. Gyro had always thought he had a nice smile. It had been better before the hospital made him take his plates out.  Unprofessional, the hospital administration had said. He still had them for when he ultimately became the Chief of Medicine and then who was gonna stop him from breaking out the gold grills?

The Sycamore was a small place on a nice street corner, tucked in-between a pizza joint and a sundry. The door had a tree carved onto it and a charming bell rang as Gyro opened it. H.P had warned him it was small, and popular and crowded but Gyro hadn’t been prepared for just how many people were crammed into the tiny space, taking up every chair and couch and table like they never planned to leave.

The barista was a young woman with short black hair and wide childlike eyes that were hidden behind very thick glasses. Her nametag read “Sugar” and she had a quiet voice. “What can I get you sir?”

“Sir? No no Sir is my father!” Gyro said, smiling brightly. Sugar blinked. Gyro coughed a bit. Can't charm them all. Stupid teenagers. “A large Italian espresso and a chicken salad sandwich. Oh, and a croissant. To go.”

Gyro awkwardly stood against the wall, fiddling on his phone, trying to be inconspicuous for once. His surgeon scrubs and white coat always got him some interested glances though. He was just glad there wasn’t any blood on them this time. Though it certainly made the ladies swoon, and then he got to tell tales of his heroic efforts in the operating room. It was the quickest way to getting laid. Gyro hummed, looking out one of the small windows and his heart sunk. It had started pouring again. His cheap drugstore umbrella would be torn to shreds but worse his food would get soggy. Not to mention the rest of him. He huffed, desperately searching for a spare chair or a tidy bit of floor or something but no one had left since he had come in.

“Here you go, Sir.” Sugar popped up at his elbow and handed him a takeout box and cup that were fancier then they needed to be. “Thank you for choosing Sycamore.”

He stared at her, smiling warily. She was staring at him like she knew something that he didn’t. He sniffed. There was no way some teenager knew more than him about anything. He made his way to the door, wondering if he could somehow protect the food under his coat without squishing it when out of the corner of his eye he saw it. A miracle. A blessing. The holy grail. An empty chair, tucked into the very back corner of the café. The only problem was the table it stood at currently had another occupant. Gyro was surprised the extra chair hadn’t already been snatched. Maybe everyone else had over looked this little cranny.

The man sitting at the table looked a little younger then Gyro. He had a beanie tugged over his strawberry blond hair and was wearing a lot of blue. Matches his eyes, Gyro thought as he walked closer. The other man was hunched over his laptop, furiously typing something. An empty latte mug sat beside him. Gyro noticed his rain boots had stars on them and he could actually feel himself making a rash decision.

“Hey,” The other man jumped a bit and looked up at Gyro, his eyes immediately narrowing. Realll pretty eyes, Gyro thought. So starry. “All the other tables are taken and it’s really coming down out there. Would you mind if I sat here?”

The man blinked a few times then pulled his laptop closer to make room. “Sure, go right ahead.”

Gyro’s ears perked up as he plopped himself down. The man had an accent he hadn’t heard yet here in Philadelphia. It reminded him of those movies his father used to watch sometimes, with horses and guns and old dusty towns. “What’s your name?”

“Hmm?” He was already back to his laptop. “Johnny.”

“Johnny,” Gyro repeated back as he opened up his take out box. The sandwich looked heavenly. “Nice to meet you Johnny, I’m Gyro Zeppeli.”

Johnny didn’t look up but his nose scrunched up in confusion. “Gyro? Like the sandwich?”

Gyro laughed. “It’s a weird nickname I know, but I hate my actual name.” He took a big bite of his sandwich, trying not to eat so grossly. “Nyo ho ho! This is tasty! I’ve never been here before.”

“Really?” Johnny said, smirking a bit. “I couldn’t tell.”

“Eh, I haven’t been in America too long. You can’t expect me to visit every single café!”

“This place used to be a little known secret.” Johnny said with a heavy sigh. “Some blogger ruined everything.” Johnny glanced at Gyro over his laptop screen. “You from Italy?” Gyro nodded, mouth full. “And I guess you work at the hospital near here.”

“Yes I do, first year surgeon resident. Though back in Italy I had a few more credentials.” Johnny nodded slightly, touching his cup then quickly dropping his hand when he remembered it was empty. “So what do you do?”

“Hm? Me? I’m in school. Part time only though…online too.” Johnny said, eyeing Gyro a bit warily. Gyro could tell he was wondering why Gyro was interested. Gyro had learned that Americans, or at least the ones in this city, found it a little weird when complete strangers struck up a conversation. “I uh, I also work. I work at a charity, one of Steven Steel’s charities. He’s sorta a business power house in the states, if you didn’t know.”

“A charity?” Gyro said, leaning forward. Johnny moved back, going for his cup again. “What type?”

Johnny smiled a bit, shaking his head, like this situation was just so ungodly strange. “It’s for kids. We have afterschool and weekend programs to keep em off the streets, or help with their therapy stuff.”

“Well then we’re in the same business!” Gyro said rather loudly, admiring how pouty the other man’s lips were. “Helping people, you know!”

Johnny’s tiny smile got even smaller and he looked down. “I guess.”

“You know I like your accent.” Gyro said. “You remind me of these movies my dad would watch. They always had…oh what do you call them…cowboys! You sound like a cowboy. I haven’t heard anyone else with that accent around here.”

“I’m from the southern States. There are a lot of accents in America.” Johnny replied, a bit stunted. He was staring at Gyro with those wide blue eyes. “A cowboy, really?”

“Sorry sorry if that’s silly.” Gyro laughed. “I shouldn’t be talking. I know I must sound ridiculous to you. Americans don’t know how to appreciate a voice as fine as mine.”

Johnny didn’t say anything in response. He seemed bewildered. Gyro noticed he had a couple freckles around his cheeks and he swallowed. They were both quiet for a little bit, Gyro finishing up his coffee. It was actually pretty tasty, but not as good as his and definitely not as good as his mothers. “I mean, I think you might be a little ridiculous, but it’s not just the accent.” Johnny grinned a bit at Gyro as he winced jokingly. Gryo had noticed Johnny seemed to have only one smile. A small, close lipped little thing.

“You wound me.”

“It’s true though.”

Gyro wanted to keep this up. He felt like they were on the cusp of having a great conversation as Johnny seemed to be relaxing a little. At the very least he stopped grabbing his cup and was holding Gyro’s eye but then Gyro just had to glance down at his watch. “Ah shit! Shit! I’m gonna be late! Sorry Johnny I have to leave!”

Gyro scrambled out of the chair and charged outside. The rain has slowed down to a drizzle, which was fine. He sprinted the entire way, collapsing against Wekapipo’s desk once he got back inside the hospital. It wasn’t until he slammed the croissant down that he realized he had forgotten to ask Johnny for his number.

Johnny stared at the empty seat in front of him. The man, Gyro, seemed to have taken all the air and noise with him and suddenly it was very quiet, despite the chatter of the café. He felt unbelievably rattled.

“Do you need to get going, Johnny?” Sugar appeared at his shoulder, startling him as always.

“Oh, yeah I guess so.” He said. He had lost track of time. “I um, yeah I need to get back to work too. That man, Gyro, he distracted me.”

“I could hear him. He’s loud. A little strange, don’t you think?”

“Yeah, but you shouldn’t be talkin.” Johnny looked down at his lap and fought back a smile. As weird and overbearing as Gyro had been, what with disrupting Johnny’s study time and probably making him late for work, not to mention interrupting him and chewing with his mouth open on several occasions, Johnny hadn’t hated talking to him. At least, he hadn’t hated it as much as he hated talking to other people. Johnny sure wasn’t too fond of ‘chit chat’ these days. Johnny huffed, shutting his laptop with just a bit too much force.

“Here you go,” Sugar was back again. Johnny hadn’t even noticed she had left. She had brought out his wheelchair from the coat closet where it would sit, folded, when Johnny studied here.

“Thanks, I guess.” He said, stuffing his things into his messenger bag. He slung it over the back of the chair and then slide himself over. Gyro didn’t see this. He thought absently to himself as he left the café, Sugar happily waving to him. She didn’t have to ask him to come again. There weren’t many places that Johnny liked to go.

It was also only seven minutes from his office, which was empty today. With winter coming up, Steels Wildlife and Agricultural Program for Disadvantaged and Disabled Youth had to shut down a lot of their curriculum. Johnny’s own program would completely close until Spring, which meant he had to get moved over to the Fine Arts and Art History Appreciation Program for Disadvantaged and Disabled Youth. It was a terrible and horrible development. Johnny didn’t care about paintings of naked Greeks and ugly British nobles.

“Just one more trip upstate to Tim’s farms right?” Lucy, the Art programs assistant manager, asked Johnny as he rolled to his computer. Her desk was across the room from his, but she made a point to come over and give him some of the tea she made every day. Johnny found Lucy to be very tolerable and even sometimes occasionally pleasant. She was a very distant relative of Stephen Steel and quite young to have a job like this at 16 going on 17 but she got it because, and even Johnny would admit this (though not to her face), she was the perfect person to deal with these types of children.

“In a few weeks or so.” Johnny said, absently, tapping on his computer. “If the weather is good, we’ll be taking up 15 kids.”

Johnny had lucked into this job. He knew a guy, who knew a girl, who knew a man who knew Steel. Johnny wasn’t good with kids or people, but he was great with horses. He ended up in charge of the branch of the Wildlife program that took inner city kids up to “Mountain” Tim’s Farms twice a month, letting them get some fresh air, do some “good honest work”, care for the animals and ride the horses. Tim was the one who got Johnny the job, and Johnny had almost declined because of the pitying, pathetic nature of it all. Tim had known of him before the accident. But Johnny couldn’t say no when he offered to board Johnny’s mare at half price for him.

“Will you finally teach me to ride this time?” Lucy asked, setting the tea down in front of him.

“Nothin to teach. You just learn it yourself.” Johnny muttered, pulling up tabs and closing them. “The horse knows what to do.”

Lucy sighed slightly, “Well, I hope it goes well. I know how much you hate sitting indoors and watching the kids paint, maybe we can try something different this winter!” Johnny grunted, then stared at his monitor. He seemed to have googled Gyro Zeppeli without noticing what his fingers were doing and found about seven different social media sites. He thought Lucy had wandered back to her desk when he brought up his Facebook page until he heard her giggling. “Oo, Johnny, did you meet someone?”

“No.” Johnny said sharply, closing the page. “Nothing like that.”

“I’ve met someone, H.P.” Gyro said, leaning on his palm.

“Oh? Another nurse?”

Gyro ignored her. “I met this guy with the most gorgeous eyes…”

“Ah yes, how could I forget about those two orderlies you slept with. You’re an equal opportunity slut.”

“C’mon, let me live.” Gyro grumbled. “He’s cute, that’s for sure. But he seems…interesting is probably the right word. Didn’t tell me his last name, was a little grumpy, might be a huge asshole but I feel like I could talk to him. Make a real connection.”

“From what, a twenty minute conversation?” H.P asked, taking a delicate bite of her pastrami.

“I have a good instinct with people. Everyone else I’ve met,” Gyro shrugged. “They’re fine, they’re nice and all to drink with,”

“And have sex with,” H.P whispered.

“But that’s it.” Gyro finished. “But then I fucked up and left without getting his number.”

“So what, you wanna date this guy?” H.P seemed oddly interested in what he had to say.

“Maybe. He seems like he could be a huge brat but he’s gorgeous. I guess it doesn’t have to be romantic.” Gyro grinned. “I wouldn’t mind it though! It’s been a while since I was in a relationship.”

“What’s he look like again? Who could be so beautiful to steal the heart of the great Gyro Zeppeli?” H.P said in her most merciless tone as she chomped down on a carrot.

“Blond, mm there’s red in there too. Blue eyes, all big and sad like a cows, a few freckles. Very nice lips.” Gyro said a bit too dreamily to be talking about a potential friendship. H.P was smiling at him and he grew suspicious. H.P didn’t smile very often. “What?”

“Nothing, nothing. You have a crush, and you have girls and men crawling all over you, but you’re smitten with some random guy you met in a café.”

Gyro frowned, “I’m not…smitten.”

But he was. Gyro stopped by the café nearly every day. Firstly to get that chicken sandwich, but also to look for Johnny. He was never there, and Gyro was unbelievably disappointed. Sugar was though, and she gave him a knowing nod whenever she saw him.

“You’re uh, you’re here a lot.” Gyro said.

“My parents own this place.” She answered. “You are also here quite often. Do your parents own this café as well?”

“I like the coffee.” Gyro grumbled. He knew he could probably ask Sugar about Johnny, but at the same time he didn’t want to weird him out before he even had a chance to talk to him again.

About a week passed before Gyro saw him again. It was after Gyro pulled an 18 hour, around 3. He dragged himself into the Sycamore for some coffee, needing it for the walk back to his apartment. He was so out of it, he almost walked right past Johnny.

“Hey!” He exclaimed, spinning around. Johnny startled like a spooked horse and looked up. He didn’t smile, but he didn’t frown so Gyro took it as a good sign. “Nice to see you again! How you’ve been?”

“Oh, I’ve been fine. Same old.” Johnny said. He had his laptop out again, and an empty tea cup. “You?”

“Ah you know. Work, sleep. I’ve been coming here though, so I can throw some delicious coffee into the mix. Though not as good as my own brew.” Gyro eyed the empty chair. “Anyone sitting here?”

“No no, go ahead.” Johnny looked down at his laptop again as Gyro sat down. Gyro gave him a good look once he seemed distracted by his computer. He was wearing blue again today and the same hat. Gyro wondered if he always dressed like that or it this was just an amusing coincidence.

“So what’re you up to there?” Gyro asked, gesturing towards the laptop.

“Emailing the parents of some of the kids in my program.” Johnny muttered. “Sending out the permission slip for the horseback riding.”

Johnny made an odd face, like had let something secret slip out. Gyro was too excited to think about it. “Aw, so that’s what you do! I’ve read about the benefits of horseback riding on injured people.” Johnny nodded stiffly. “So I guess you take them upstate somewhere. Do you ride with them?”

“…yeah.”

Gyro grinned. Awesome! Something we have in common. “Well I ride too. My family has land in Italy. I’ve been riding and racing since I was a boy. I have the most beautiful mare, Valkyrie. God, I miss her. I’d love to bring her over here but it’s not too easy transporting a horse.”

“What is she?” Johnny asked, not making eye contact.

“A stock horse. You got your own?”

“Yeah. A good old appaloosa named Slow Dancer. She’s been mine for a while.”

“I’d like to go riding with you.” Gyro said, feeling a little embarrassed he said something like that. He sounded like a kid or a teenager trying to pull the moves on his crush when he was a grown ass man with an apartment that his dad paid for. “Haven’t even seen a horse since I left Italy. Well, other than the ones that pull the carriages around here.”

“Well, the place I board her at rents out horses too.” Johnny said quietly. He didn’t say anything else, but the fact he hadn’t flatly said no made Gyro feel all warm and fuzzy.

“Hey, what did the horse say when it fell down?”

“Hm?”

“He said, ‘I can't giddy up!’”

Johnny stared at him, then nodded solemnly. “That was good,”

“Really?”

“Yeah, I liked it.”

“Nyo ho!” Gyro laughed, “I see you have excellent taste in jokes. Here’s one I wanted to tell you last week.” Gyro cleared his throat. “Why is a bad cup of coffee the end of a marriage?”

“Hmm, something about the bitterness?”

“Nah, cause it’s grounds for divorce!”

Johhny hummed. “I like that one too. Maybe just because we’re in a coffee house.”

Gyro snapped his fingers and grinned. “I have a million of em! And tons of other gags. I make em up when I’m on call at the hospital. Keeps me awake.” Gyro rested his head on his arms, completely forgetting about his sandwich. Johnny was reading something on his laptop, his eyes flicking back and forth rapidly. How long had it been since Gyro had a crush? Years, definitely. He had forgotten all about how goofy it made him, about how even he, normally steely calm under even the greatest of pressure, got all nervous and sweaty around the person he liked.

“So what do these stickers mean?” Gyro asked, pointing to the back of Johnny’s laptop.

“You ask a lotta questions.” Johnny said, giving Gyro an odd look.

“Sorry sorry,” Gyro said, laughing. “It’s just how I get to know people. Just being friendly, you Americans are so prickly.”

Johnny blinked. His eyelashes were very very blonde and thin. “It’s a band I like. I went to a concert of theirs ages ago.”

“Now you’re far too young to say ‘ages ago’, at least I think.” Gyro stared at Johnny. He was kind of young looking, and Gyro was 26. He suddenly felt uneasy. “How old are you anyway?”

“21.”

Gryo was relieved. “Aw, you’re just a little baby.”

Johnny made a sour face at him as Gyro laughed. “And how old are you? 35?”

“Ouch, ouch Johnnyyy, that was unnecessary.” Gyro clutched his heart like he had been mortally wounded. “I work a stressful job and never wear sunscreen. And despite that I’m an Adonis.”

Johnny cocked his head. “Wasn’t he Greek?”

“Then I’m Michelangelo’s David.”

Johnny just snorted. It wasn’t a laugh, but he seemed amused. He also wasn’t refuting Gyro’s claim of being Renaissance perfection, which in Gyro’s mind meant he agreed. Gyro leaned forward a bit more, appreciating the curve of Johnny’s neck.

“So what do you like to do? Around the city? I’m still trying to find things to do.”

Johnny looked to the side. “Nothin much. I’ve been too busy really, going to the farm on the weekends and school and stuff.”

“Yeah, I understand. I’ve been pretty much a homebody for months.” He was lying, but he doubted Johnny wanted to go to any of the nightclubs or lounges Gyro had found. “We should explore together.”

“Should we?” Johnny said, raising his eyebrow.

“Yeah, let’s go on an adventure. You have anywhere to be? It’s nice out, let’s go for a walk.”

Johnny looked up very quickly. “What?”

“Well there’s a park’s not too far from here. I’ve heard there’s a food truck that hangs around out there in the afternoon. I mean I’ve already been awake for 19 hours so what’s a few more.” Gyro smiled what he hoped was his most dazzling charming smile. Johnny was looking down at his keyboard silently. “Uh, so uh, do you wanna go?”

“I-I…I don’t think it’s a good idea.” He said softly.

Gyro cocked his head. “It’s just a walk.”

“I mean, I'm busy, I can't~”

“C’mon,” Gyro tried the approach he always used with shy, blushing men and women. Leaning in, dropping his voice low. Then again, Johnny wasn’t blushing or coy. He was pale, and wide eyed and Gyro realized the mistake he was making as he made it. “It’s just a few minutes outta your life, it’s just a short walk. I think it’ll be fun.”

“I don’t want to go with you!” Johnny shouted, banging the table with his fist. Gryo leaned back in shock. “I can't.” Johnny had tears in his eyes now. He looked frustrated. He looked like he wanted nothing more than to get up and leave but he wasn’t going anywhere. “Just…just leave me alone.”

Gyro felt like he had been punched in the chest. Johnny’s cheeks were mottled red now, and he shut his eyes tight. “Ok,” Gyro quickly gathered his things and got up. “I’m sorry, Johnny.”

Gyro hurried out of the café, throwing his food away in the first trashcan he saw.

Gyro kept his promise to Johnny. He left him alone. He didn’t step foot in that café for three weeks, and, predictably, didn’t see Johnny once. Gyro guessed he knew what had happened. Johnny figured out that Gyro was attracted to him, and it weirded him out. He had been laying it on there pretty thick. Gyro knew that unwanted advances were creepy (and he knew he could go way overboard) and Johnny had looked like he wanted to sink into the floor. Gyro wanted to explain that hey, that’s fine. Gyro just wanted a friend. He wanted to be friends with the guy with the fun accent, who rode horses and didn’t smile or laugh but complimented Gyro’s jokes anyway.

Gyro kinda missed him. It was silly. He had had two conversations with him and didn’t even know his last name, and still Gyro found himself thinking about him. But Gyro was an adult, so he tried not to dwell on Johnny’s pretty eyes and mouth. Maybe he should consider himself lucky to get away from a man with a temper like that. So he carried on normally enough, and performed several brain surgeries and also got some really nice houseplants. Gyro still wished he could have seen him laugh once.

“You’ve seemed a little blue.” Wekapipo asked over the shitty cafeteria coffee they were having. “What’s wrong?”

“I screwed up.” Gyro muttered. He was sitting with his face flat on the table.

“Are you still going on about that? It’s been what, how many days?” Gyro frowned and tried to grind his heel into Wekapipo’s toes. “Jesus, if you feel so bad just go find him and explain yourself. Also maybe stop trying to fuck anything that breathes in your direction.”

“I wasn’t! I was just being friendly. Maybe too flirty but that’s just how I am.”

“I know. You grabbed my ass the first time we met. Oh, and that’s not something to be proud of, dick.”

Gyro shrugged. “I’ll get over it. I just feel like I missed out on something.”

Wekapipo chuckled. “You’re so naïve. What, do you still believe in love at first sight? Are you some star crossed souls meeting again by chance?”

Gyro just grumbled, sinking lower into the table. “Fuck off.”

“Apparently you have stopped picking up nurses though.”

Had he? Gyro wasn’t as promiscuous as everyone seemed to think he was. Five women and two men in four months wasn’t that bad, he had just been lonely. He hadn’t even gone…how did the Americans say it? “All the way”. It was too much effort for a casual fling and condoms were expensive. “I said fuck off.”

“Ahh c’mon. Let’s go out tonight. I got a great bar I go to. One that serves real drinks. Might take your mind off things.” Wekapipo nudged his shin. “You like to dance right? There’s a swing band that plays Wednesdays.”

“I do love to dance. I’m pretty good at it too you know.”

“Oh I’m sure.” Wekapipo said, watching Gyro as he started shimmying in his seat. “C’mon, someone’s gotta be cheerful around here. And the only person stupid enough to smile in a hospital is you.”

Gyro was about to insult him back when his phone went off. It was H.P, asking him to bring her her lunch box after his shift ended. She had left it last time she was here and it was currently sitting sadly in the lost and found. Gyro saw it every time he passed by the reception desk. He had offered to take it to her but she had said she’d just grab it next time she worked at the hospital.

“Ugh, she’s at the physical therapy center. There’s never any parking.”

“You don’t have a car.”

Gyro had three more surgeries to complete that day. They were routine, easy ones. He had has his complicated biopsy this morning, which probably added to his bad mood. He just wanted to go to bed, honestly. Maybe shower first, and then pass out for a week. But first he had to deliver H.P’s all important lunchbox to her. It was almost nice out today, but it was the first week of October and the chill would’ve been downright unpleasant if it weren’t for the sun. But the leaves were pretty and the sky bright. Gyro sang a little, cheering up. Maybe he would take Wekapipo up on that offer. He was always up to go dancing. Maybe there’d be karaoke as well.

The physical therapy center was an affiliate of the hospital Gyro worked out, so it was close by, but he never visited it. His work typically ended after he sewed his patient up, but H.P sometimes had to meet with children who were recuperating there. It was a very nice center, with all of the latest technologies that the Zeppeli family money could buy. This place was Gyro’s mother’s pride and joy. It was expensive for non-patients, but it still saw a heavy stream of people working out physical injuries, getting stronger and getting better. His mother had always been more into that side of medicine than his father, who Gyro felt like saw people as very complicated puzzles to put back together. All Gyro knew was that what he did made people better, and that was a good thing (it had to be), and better then what his family was actually known for.

 Gyro saw the flash of H.P’s bright hair as she walked out the front doors, accompanied by someone in a wheelchair. Gyro was busy deciding how best to present the lunch box, by either throwing it at her or hitting her with it in the face (gently) so his stupid brain didn’t actually register just who the guy with her was until it was too late.

Johnny hadn’t noticed him either. He was glaring up at H.P. He seemed annoyed, and there was a curl to his lip. Gyro stared, trying to remember if Johnny had been sitting in a wheelchair those times they ate together. He hadn’t, but Gyro could tell by the wear and tear of the chair and the way he held his legs that this was not a new situation. Suddenly, his very sudden and angry refusal of Gyro’s invitation made sense.

“Hey!” He called, running up to them. Johnny finally looked away from H.P and his mouth hung open, horrified. H.P was smiling. “Wait wait, before you say anything, if I’m wrong and if I creeped you out  the other day and that’s why you didn’t want to see me anymore then say so and I swear you will never even hear the name Gyro Zeppeli ever again. But, but is this,” Gyro gestured vaguely, “Why you wouldn’t go for that walk with me?”

Johnny still stared at him. H.P grabbed the lunchbox and said goodbye to both of them but they weren’t paying attention. They were holding each other’s gaze, Gyro feeling a bit too tall now and more awkward every second Johnny stayed quiet. He huffed suddenly. “Gyro Zeppeli isn’t a name I’d normally hear anyway.”

“Well, yeah, that is true.”

“You caught me off guard, back then.” He said suddenly, fidgeting. He took a deep breath.  “I…I didn’t want to…I would have to…”

“Hey, you don’t gotta explain anything.” Gyro could tell he was very uncomfortable. Like it would bother Gyro somehow that he couldn’t walk. “But, that’s what it was? I thought I had crossed some American line of personal boundaries.”

“I mean, you probably did but, yeah.” Johnny looked at his lap. “It’s just because of this.”

“So are you busy? Do you want to go for a walk with me?”

Johnny looked surprised. “Really?”

“Yeah, really.”

“Then ok, I guess.” Johnny said. There was perhaps the smallest grin on his face, or maybe he had something stuck in his teeth.

Gyro smiled brightly and rocked forward on the balls of his feet. “Because you don’t have too I mean.”

“I know. I don’t have to do anything.” Johnny said flatly. “Where do you wanna go?”

“Too cold for the park?”

“Nah, its fine.” Johnny said, going ahead of him. “Let’s go.”

Gyro caught up to him quickly. Gyro adjusted his stride length for him, noticing it wasn’t an electric chair. “Do you want me to push you?”

Johnny’s gaze could have killed him. “No.”

“Ah, alright.” Gyro laughed awkwardly. “So uh, do y’know H.P? Harriett Palacios?”

“Yeah, we go back a bit.”

“Yeah, I guess I like her. She’s mean, but she’s cool. She’s real dedicated to those kids.”

“She is. She’s very religious.”

“Huh? I didn’t know that!”

Johnny looked up at him and raised his eyebrows. “You haven’t noticed the cross she always wears?”

“I don’t look at her chest. Learned not to the hard way.” Gyro chuckled. “What is she?”

“Catholic.”

“Ah me too. Italian you know. Hard to escape. I haven’t been to church since I got here too. Or confession.”

Johnny smirked. “Got a lot of sins to tell?”

Gyro blushed at Johnny’s tone. He couldn’t tell if it was playful or accusatory. “Well…maybe. Nothing too bad!”

“Oh I'm sure.” Johnny hummed. “Talk to H.P. She’ll get you into a nice church with a non judgmental priest.”

“Hey now.” Gyro said, smiling. He felt light. He was so happy that he hadn’t messed this up. Not yet anyway.

The park was a little crowded. A lot of people were out and about, appreciating the leaves. Kids were jumping into the piles and Gyro was very tempted as well. But that would probably be frowned upon with his age. The one truck that Gyro had heard about from an uncharacteristically enthusiastic H.P wasn’t there but they found a suitable substitution serving hot sandwiches. Gyro got something with pork belly, a fried egg and jalapeño while Johnny’s was entirely fried and smothered in hot sauce. They found a free bench, Johnny sitting catty-corner to Gyro. He was wearing the same hat, Gyro noticed, though he wasn’t wearing blue today, but white. His jacket was well worn, a gray peacoat. His scarf had stars on it and Gyro thought it was so cute that he seemed to like them so much. He wasn’t eating though. He was just staring at his food.

“So, how long have you been living here?”

“Little over two years.” Johnny said.

“You’re from, where originally?”

“Well, when I was a baby I lived in England for a little bit but I mostly lived in Kentucky.” Johnny seemed to notice he wasn’t eating and hurriedly unwrapped his sandwich. “You’re from Italy, what part?”

“Naples.” Gyro smiled, biting into his food. He had been apprehensive about leaving the chefs of Italy but America hadn’t really disappointed him on that front. You just had to know where to go. “In the ah, countryside though I suppose? What do you call it in English…outskirts?”

“Suburbs?”

“Yes, those! I have a lot of siblings, so we had to live outside the city center.” Gyro didn’t think it was a good time to mention how much family money they had though, from centuries of Zeppeli doctoring and their “invention” and fame and that he had grown up in an estate. “Italian cities are very crowded, and tight. It’s why this place seems roomy by comparison!”

“You have a lot of brothers and sister?”

“Yes! Five younger ones. Two sisters, three brothers. What about you.”

Johnny blinked. Johnny had very expressive eyes, Gyro was noticing. There wasn’t just fire in there, but avalanches and earthquakes and floods. “No, I don’t.”

“Only child then? Nyo ho I used to wish I was all the time when I was younger. I wanted all of the attention! My younger sisters birthday is three days before mine. It used to make me so mad!  I grew out of that though. I have some wonderful nieces and nephews now! Ah, I do miss them. It’s been a difficult move.”

Johnny nodded. “Yeah, it was difficult for me too.”

“Let’s see you were what…19? Right out of high school here right? Very impressive!”

Johnny just shrugged. “Not really. I should have gone to college.”

“Well you’re in it now! Besides, who needs it?”

Johnny looked at him. “Says the doctor. So what type of doctor are you?”

“Brain surgeon, at least that’s what I’m training up to.” Gyro was already almost done with his sandwich while Johnny taken two tiny bites. “I still do a lot of other basic surgeries. Appendix removal, stuff like that. They think I’m too young here. I also want to go into spinal surgery, I think.”

“R-really?”

Gyro, bit his tongue, wondering if perhaps that was a rather sensitive topic. After all, he didn’t know if Johnny had been born paralyzed or if this was something maybe more recent. A car accident, or a disease. It would be very inappropriate to ask. “Well, yes! See, my dad is a heart surgeon. My mom is an obgyn. I almost went into gynecology because I love delivering babies, but I wanted to do something different from them.”

“You like delivering babies?” Johnny said a bit incredulously.

“I do, it’s such a happy moment but it does get a little repetitive.” Gyro said, waving his food around. A pickle was set free. 

“Is your entire family doctors?”

“Oh? Well, it’s definitely a family tradition. But I'm the oldest, so I think my dad really fixated on me taking up after him. My youngest sister has talked about nursing. She’s 16 now. And my one brother is going into physical therapy, and sports medicine. But the rest are branching out.”

“That’s all very impressive.” Johnny said slowly

“It’s the only thing I’m good at. Oh! Aside from singing. I’m a great singer. I could sing for you sometime! Do you like karaoke?”

“Oh Gyro, I absolutely hate it.”

“Well then you can watch!” Gyro smiled and clapped his hand down on Johnny’s knee. “Don’t worry, we’ll get a few drinks in you and you’ll be singing like a bird.” Gyro squeezed his knee and then remembered he probably couldn’t feel it. Johnny had a weird quirk to his mouth as he glanced down at Gyro’s hand. Well, it was the thought that counted. “So, I’ve been wondering, is H.P single.”

Johnny took another small bite of his food. “Well, yeah. Like I said, she’s really religious and completely dedicated to her job. But she has a ‘friend’ I guess whose really into her.” Johnny made a sour face. “I really don’t like him. He’s obnoxious. I mean, so are you.”

“Hey now!”

“I didn’t finish. It’s agreeable with you though. Likable.” Johnny hummed a bit. “But he’s insufferable.”

“So you can suffer me?”

“I can most definitely suffer you, Gyro Zeppeli.”

Something about the way he said that made Gyro’s ears get hot. He liked Johnny’s voice a lot, but especially when he said his name in that slow, drawl of an accent. “Well, good. So what, this man annoys you?” Johnny nodded. “Do most people annoy you?”

“Well, not on a deeply personal level but yes.” Johnny finished his sandwich, meticulously folding up the wrapper. He didn’t really elaborate, but Gyro was learning that Johnny kept so much wrapped up inside of him. He wanted to peel him back layer by layer. He wanted to know these secrets, but he wasn’t about to ask. Some people liked to be cracked open, but Gyro wasn’t sure if Johnny was like that.

“Yeah, I gotta agree with you there. I’m pretty quick to be nasty to people.”

Johnny hummed, probably agreeing. At least Gyro hoped. He wanted Johnny to like him.

They talked for a little while more. Gyro wanted to figure out what Johnny did like. They talked a bit about music, and tv. Johnny liked classic rock and folk, while Gyro was more partial to 80’s and 90’s pop, as well as classical music. They did both like crime dramas, and documentaries, but Johnny was disgusted by Gyro’s reality addiction. One thing he really seemed to love horses, and that got them to talking about westerns, which he also enthused over. And apparently he was a really good shot with a rifle and a handgun.

“Then we should go to the shooting range sometime!” Gyro suggested enthusiastically.

“It’s been a while.” Johnny muttered. They were moving again, trying to stay warm as the sun started to set. “I used to go hunting. I can skin a deer eight ways.”

“Ugh, couldn’t do that. I’m too squeamish.”

“You’re a surgeon!”

“Yeah, but there’s a difference to working on a living person and maybe doing a little snip here and skinning and beheading and gutting a dead animal.”

“You have a point.” Johnny smiled. It was the biggest smile he had gotten so far and Gyro swallowed. “It’s getting late. I should probably head home soon.”

“Aw c’mon, the nights young!” Gyro pouted.

“I gotta work tomorrow, and I have a paper to finish. But, later?”

Gyro’s heart soared. There was a later. Johnny wanted to see him again. He had been waiting for him to initiate another hang out on pins and needles. “Of course, do you like movies?”

“Well, yeah.”

“Movies this Friday? I actually have the evening off.”

“Sure.”

“Great, wait wait! I won't forget this time!” Gyro pulled his phone out. “Your number.”

Johnny told him and Gyro texted him immediately. Johnny looked at his phone and frowned. “So many emojis.”

“Where are you headed?”

“Hm? I gotta catch a taxi. I’m all the way down in the arts district.”

“Let me walk you to the street.” Gyro said, showing off his most handsome smile. Johnny cocked his head but shrugged. Gyro stood with him until he was able to hail a taxi and despite a very loud grunt, helped him in.

“You don’t have to open the door.” Johnny said, staring at the the seat.

“I’m just being a gentleman.” Gyro winked and Johnny rolled his eyes. He slid himself into the taxi and looked pointedly away from Gyro. “I guess if you wanna help out the taxi driver you can put that in the trunk. It’s collapsible, there’s a little switch~”

“I know how to work these.” Gyro said, folding up his wheelchair before placing it in the trunk.

“Oh right, hospitals.” Johnny said in an odd tone.  Gyro leaned down in front of the open window. He had wanted to hug him goodbye but the door was already shut. “Well, I guess I’ll see you later.”

“I’ll text you tonight!”

Johnny’s eyes widened, and then he shook his head. “Alright then.”

The window rolled up and Gyro waved. Johnny unsurely waved back. As the cab drove turned the corner, Gyro pumped the air victoriously.

Johnny threw his bag onto the couch, then threw himself best he could. He lay there for a while, quietly going over everything that had happened this afternoon. He ran his hands over his arms, trying to warm up a bit. He had to turn on the space heater, but now that he was lying down, he didn’t want to move.

He closed his eyes. Gyro wore very strong cologne and Johnny could smell it on him. It wasn’t an unpleasant smell, like you would think. It was earthy, and deep. Johnny sat straight up and immediately called H.P.

“Yes?” She said, two rings later. Johnny could tell she was eating.

“Did you text Gyro to bring your lunchbox today so we would run into each other?”

“What's it to ya? You’ve been mooning over that ass for three weeks. Someone had to do it. You weren’t gonna message him on Facebook or anything.”

“I don’t have one, you know that.”

“Well, did it work out ok? You friends again?”

Johnny groaned as loudly as he could into the phone. “We weren’t…we aren’t friends.”

“You hanging out again?”

“Yeah, this Friday.”

“Aw. Johnny has a new friend.”

Johnny threw his hat across the room. “Stop meddling.”

“You’re happy though.” H.P said smugly. “I can tell, you don’t actually sound angry.”

“Well, thanks, anyway. Whatever.” Johnny hung up and lied back down. He had run into H.P as he went to complete his weekly therapy session. He was very serious about keeping his body in the best condition possible. He supposed he had been gloomier than usual, but it wasn’t over Gyro. He had a rough week. Work had been difficult, he had been tired and hungry and managed to pull something in his shoulder. He had never even mentioned meeting Gyro to her. But maybe Gyro had told her.

Johnny guessed she had done that for Gyro’s sake then. Maybe he had been the gloomy one, over what had happened at the café. Johnny supposed it didn’t matter. Because now he had his number, and he wanted to see him again.

Johnny smiled to himself. He had no hopes or expectations for this, for Gyro. But right now his stomach was full of greasy food, and oddly warm.

“The green shirt,” Gyro murmured to himself. “Or the blue…”

Johnny seemed to like blue, so he went with that. Gyro had been texting him since Wednesday and his texts were just as grumpy as he was, and it was after Gyro got his third ‘why are you up so late? Go to sleep old man’, that he decided that he was in love, and that he wanted Johnny as much as he wanted he wanted his Mothers homemade meatballs, which was to say, a metric shit ton.

So he had spent about three hours getting ready. He washed his hair, blowing it out carefully so that it fell becomingly across his shoulders and face. He shaved, moisturized, brushed his teeth three times (just in case), found the pair of pants that made his ass look the best and his favorite pair of boots. Johnny liked horses, and westerns, so Gyro was hoping he was also into cowboys. In that vein he also wore his favorite wide brimmed hat. He had also been texting H.P to see if she could tell him what Johnny was into, but she hadn’t responded to one single message.

“Would a scarf…be too much with the necklaces?” Gyro wondered aloud. “Well, it is cold out tonight.”

Gyro had convinced Johnny to come watch some loud, dumb action movie that Gyro had wanted to see for ages. Honestly, Gyro just wanted to try and pull the old “yawn and reach” maneuver on him. He checked his watch after settling on a jacket. He just knew that Johnny was not the type to tolerate lateness, even if he showed up late himself.

He was waiting for him outside the theater. Tucked against the wall, out of sight, and on his phone. Same hat, same coat, but he was also wearing riding boots. Old and scuffed. Gyro hurried over to him, grinning ear to ear like an idiot.

“Johnny!” He leaned down and pulled him into a quick hug. He never felt anyone get so stiff so fast.

“H-Hello…” He stammered. “I uh~”

“Nyo ho, sorry sorry!” Gyro rubbed the back of his head. “You Americans don’t like to be touched.”

Johnny blushed. “No it’s fine. It was just unexpected. You are very demonstrative, like a dog.”

Gyro winced. “Anyway, let’s go in. Kinda cold yeah?”

“Hmm.”

Gyro got the nachos, twizzlers and a large icee. Johnny got a small popcorn, and a small coke which he insisted was still too large. Gyro had never sat in the section with all the spaces for wheelchairs, and Johnny seemed uneasy as they went into the theater.

“Nice, I can put my feet up on these.” Gyro said excitedly, pointing towards the bars.

“I don’t think that’s why they’re there but knock yourself out.” Johnny looked amused, like one would look upon a misbehaving child.

Gyro sat down, and then noticed that Johnny had stopped himself two feet away. “Aw, c’mon man, sit closer.”

“What? Why?”

“This looks awkward, we don’t even look like we came together!” Johnny sighed and moved until the armrest of his chair and Gyro’s were touching. “Much better! Now I can put the moves on you!” Gyro raised his eyebrows, wanting to see how Johnny would react to something like that.

Johnny just nodded and said. “Your hair’s a lot longer than I thought it be. It looks smaller in that bun. Do you have to wear it up for work?”

“Yeah, stupid isn’t it? Female doctors~” Gyro stopped talking as Johnny reached forward and took a lock of it between his fingers.

“It is all real. I thought maybe it was a wig to hide your bald spots, old man.”

“I’m only five years older than you!” Gyro said, frowning. “And what, you’re always wearing that hat. How do I know you’re not bald?” Johnny rolled his eyes and took it off, revealing a thick head of messy hair. “Well look at that,” Gyro said, leaning forward to ruffle his hair. God, it’s so soft and fluffy I wanna bury my face in it. “We both have great hair.”

Johnny smirked and pulled his hat back on as the trailers started. Gyro had a habit of critiquing each one as they rolled, in vivid and lurid detail and then deciding right there if he would see it or not. That had gotten him shushed before (and almost kicked out) but Johnny didn’t seem to mind. He still didn’t laugh at any of his jokes, but complimented him on them when he thought they were humorous. He also didn’t mind Gyro’s running comments throughout the movie. In Gyro’s humble opinion, he was often the best part of movies.

About an hour in, he started quieting down, because he was wondering if he should pull said moves. He kept glancing at Johnny’s hand, resting right next to his. It was a nice hand. It looked like he had a few calluses, and there was chipped nail polish on a few of his fingers. Due to the decrepit state, Gyro wondered if Johnny had let one of the kids he worked with paint them and was just letting it fade away slowly. He wondered if his hands would be cold. He had a feeling they were. And would he hold back or look at Gyro like he had just handed him a very large spider?

Gyro looked at Johnny’s profile out of the corner of his eye. His nose turned up and his lips were parted a bit. But what Gyro really noticed was that he looked content, and calm. Not as on edge as he usually seemed. He whipped out his phone and hurriedly texted H.P.

What do I do with him? Please.

“Don’t text, its rude.” Johnny whispered, pinching his arm.

“Ah! Sorry sorry,” Gyro muttered, sliding his phone back into his pocket when H.P finally replied to one of his dozens of texts.

Take it slow. You don’t know anything about him.

“Put it away, Gyro.” Johnny said. Gyro looked at him, a little frustrated by what H.P had said. He knew things about him! He was an only child, he was from Kentucky, he liked the Black Keys and worked for a charity. He was young, in community college, liked horses and…well he hadn’t known him as long as H.P! It was an unfair comparison! “Gyro, stop staring at me like that.”

“What?”

“Because you aren’t looking at me, you’re thinking about something and your eyes are all glazed over. It’s creepy.”

Gyro pinched Johnny back.

After the movie ended, they both surmised it had been ok. After standing awkwardly in the cold street for a while, Gyro took him to a nearby bar he had frequented, hoping to get some free drinks. The bartender knew him well, as did most of the staff and regulars. He liked the bartender, a young guy nicknamed Sandman. Gyro had learned that he left the reservation he had grown up on 5 years ago, hoping to make money to send back to his sister and family. He was a smart guy and a former track star who made a mean drink. He was also quick to judge, and quick to break up a fight by knocking people out, so he was pretty cool in Gyro’s book.

“Ay, it’s Gyro!” He called as they came in from the cold. “And, well I haven’t seen you around!”

“Ah, this is my friend, Johnny.” Gyro said, clapping his hand down on his shoulder.

“Johnny, wow I’m going to need to see some id. Gyro, how young is he?” Sandman said, waggling his eyebrows as Johnny looked down to get his wallet. Gyro scowled.

“I’m 21.” Johnny said, presenting his license. Gyro caught a peek of it as it was passed between them. He had to only be eighteen in it, smiling cockily. 5’6, the card read as well. He’s so tiny. Gyro thought, He’d be so short if he was standing next to me. “Where is your bathroom?”

“Ah, right back that way.” Johnny nodded and rolled off, disappearing into the back of the bar. The bartender looked back at Gyro and winked. “Well, you’ve never brought any of your pieces here.”

“Hey, we’re not dating. Not yet anyway.” Gyro smirked. “Figured I should settle down, though. I’m ready to date again. He’s cute, isn’t he?”

“Oh you bet, just your type too. But uh, the uh…can he not walk?”

“Hey!”

“What, it’s the elephant in the room.” Sandman said lightly. “People will wonder about it, you know. And people will ask about it.”

“Well don’t,” Gyro said firmly. “I haven’t known him that long, I don’t know the details of it and I’m not gonna ask him. It’s none of my business.”

Sandman just continued polishing the glass he was holding. “Could become your business when you try to sleep with him.”

“Who said that’s what I’m doin!? And shut up, stupid!”

Sandman snorted. “Alright, alright man, calm down.” Gyro nodded, realizing he was gripping the counter, his knuckles completely white. “You sure are scary when you’re mad.” Sandman added and Gyro couldn’t tell if he was being sarcastic or not. “Well, you seem pretty head over heels already.”

“I move too fast.” Gyro muttered, understanding what H.P’s text had meant. Gyro didn’t know how Johnny ended up in this city, alone, at age 19. And Sandman was right. He didn’t know where Johnny was at, sexually or romantically. Johnny could be fucking straight for all Gyro knew.

Johnny eventually came back from the bathroom and he and Gyro found a nice semi private table to sit at. Their drinks ended up being on the house, Sandman winking as he set them down. Gyro did have a system. And he had liked taking his dates here but just to chat them up, not get them irresponsibly drunk.

Gyro had gotten vodka while Johnny had straight whiskey. They drank, chatting as the night went on. Gyro asking a shit ton of questions and Johnny responding, sometimes with a wry grin, mostly with a straight face. Gyro kept the topics light. He liked learning about people’s hobbies and favorite foods and pets and experiences and travels. If Johnny wanted to delve deeper, that was up to him. The greatest tragedy of Gyro’s life was how patchy his facial hair came in, so he had nothing to share on that front. Eventually Johnny seemed to get tired of talking, on his third drink of very dark liquor, so Gyro took over, telling him stories from the hospital and his childhood, trying to get him to laugh.

“So, there I am, completely naked, there is pie everywhere, and my dad only has one shoe. I told him, hey, could be worse. I could have been sleeping with the pie makers wife, and not his son.”

“I’m sure you got a very rigorous spanking after that.” Johnny wasn’t laughing, but he was smiling, resting his head on his arms. There were as many stars in his eyes as on his scarf.

“Oh, I got a good whooping. I’ve always been popular with all the guys and girls but my dad likes me to be discreet. Doesn’t shine well upon the family to have such a promiscuous son!” Gyro snorted. “I was a teenager, what was he expecting?”

Johnny hummed. He was drunk, drunker than Gyro. Despite being a good deal smaller than him, he had insisted on drinking just as much. “Well, he loves you though, right?”

“Ah he does. In his own distant way. Johnny, he missed my graduation!”

“That’s the worst.” Johnny slurred, blinking slowly.

“It broke my heart. He was in surgery, so maybe I can forgive him, one day.” Gyro reached across the table and pulled Johnny’s hat off. “You awake under there?”

“Mm, kinda.”

Gyro started running his fingers through Johnny’s hair, cause he was drunk enough to get away with it. “Where do you live?”

Johnny mumbled the address. Gyro knew enough about the city to know they wouldn’t make it there. “Eh, kinda far. My place is close by, you wanna crash there?” Johnny hummed, shutting his eyes. “Hey man, is that a yes? I don’t wanna accidentally kidnap you or anything.”

“Fine, its fine.” Johnny yawned. “Let’s go, you got more booze there?”

“Always.” Gyro stood up, and almost toppled over. Johnny snorted, pulling on his coat. Though he struggled a bit with tying the scarf properly so Gyro took over so he didn’t accidentally hang himself. Gyro honestly didn’t feel very far gone, but his balance was another matter entirely. Johnny stared at him as he stumbled towards the door.

“You know, if you need to lean on something~”

That was all Gyro needed to hear before he gripped the handles of Johnny’s chair and steadied himself. He pushed him out of the bar and into the cold, but neither of them could really feel it with how hot their blood was. The streets were crowded and loud. It was only 12, after all. Most people’s nights were just starting. But Gyro was sure they hadn’t been awake as long as he had. He hailed a cab, helping Johnny get inside despite his garbled protests. Gyro told him anyone as drunk as him would need a hand and tossed his chair into the trunk. He understood Johnny’s actions all too well though. Gyro saw it a lot at the hospital. When people who had been able bodied all their lives suddenly lost a part of themselves they refused help, even when they really needed it. They got indignant at the suggestion that they would even need someone to help them complete a task they had been doing all their lives. Patients who had had strokes, people who had lost arms and legs or whose hearts wouldn’t let them carry heavy things anymore. This is recent then, quite recent. Gyro thought, sliding in beside him. He said he moved here two years ago right? I wonder if that was right after it happened. It didn’t matter anyway, but Gyro was curious by nature.

Johnny shut his eyes as the taxi pulled out and was quiet. Gyro rested against the window, watching the colors of the city rush by. He was slowly falling in love with this town. He liked the excitement of it, the history, the food, but he really liked how it lit up in neo streaks and dots when night fell. Though he missed the stars. He wondered if he could see them from the farm Johnny went to.

Gyro felt something fall into his lap. Johnny was snoring softly, completely passed out and blissfully unaware of where his head was. Gyro laughed softly, combing his fingers through his hair. He let him sleep. Johnny was definitely not warm to the touch through all his outer layers, but his weight was comforting. It was a struggle to get him awake, and an even bigger one to get him to get out of the cab and into his chair. Turns out, he was even more ornery and stubborn when drunk.

“C’mon, almost there.” Gyro said, patting his head as he pushed him up the rather steep handicapped entrance. There was no way this was meeting code. “Then you can sleep all you want.”

“I d’wanna sleep.” Johnny mumbled, rubbing at his eyes.

“You sure?” Gyro laughed as they got into the elevator. “Well, then what do you wanna do?”

“Anything, I want to do anything.”

When they finally got into Gyro’s apartment, Johnny turned around and glared at him. “You know, you could have told me. I knew, anyway.”

“Huh?”

Johnny rolled his eyes. “Jesus Christ Gyro, how many Zeppelis are there in the world? The hospital you work at is called the Zeppeli-Danners Institute. I knew you had to be a part of that family. You could have told me you had money.”

It was very obvious that Gyro came from wealth by looking around his apartment. It was spacious, for one, with a big window overlooking the skyline. His furniture was handsome, and well made and he had a tv the size of himself, probably if he was lying stretched out. “Sorry, sorry, some people…they think I’m just a little spoiled boy when they learn I come from money.”

Johnny sniffed superiorly. “You act like you’re the only one who grew up with family money.” He wheeled himself over to the leather couch and moved onto it. “It’s not a big deal, you just seem so open but you kept that a secret. Makes me wonder what else you’re keepin’.”

“Well, I was the one who accidentally dropped the Christmas ham on the floor in 2004.” Gyro said, going into his liquor cabinet. “What do you want? Maybe just some wine to top the evening off?” Johnny nodded, stretching out on the sofa. It had taken Gyro a long-ass time to find good enough wine here stateside. He poured out two healthy sized glasses and turned around, trying to get used to the fact that Johnny was in his apartment.

Since he moved here, whenever he would bring someone to his new home, he tried to see if they fit. If they looked like they belonged amongst his enormous furniture and the walls that he had covered in cheap thrift store paintings and magazine pages and the thick rugs his grandmother had given him. They never had. They always looked like weird, foreign objects. Like an odd piece of modern art stuck in the middle of his living room. Johnny glanced up from his phone, his blue eyes dark and deep as the night sky and Gyro smiled. He looked good, on Gyro’s couch, in Gyro’s home, surrounded by ferns and succulents.

“Lots of plants.” Johnny grunted as Gyro handed him his glass.

“Yeah, I like watching them bloom. I’m terrible at it though, I’ve killed most of them.”

Johnny took a long drink. “I have like, five cactuses. I don’t remember why I have them, where I got them or who gave em to me but I got em. They’re hard to kill.”

Gyro sat down on the opposite side of the couch, where Johnny’s feet ended. He hadn’t taken off his boots. Gyro assumed he had forgotten he was wearing them. “So, what do you wanna do?”

Johnny shrugged, his eyes closed. “Are you out of stories and gags?”

“That’s just insulting. I have a million of them!” Gyro slapped Johnny’s leg good-naturedly and squeezed it.

“Did you just hit me?”

“It was a friendly tap.” Gyro laughed, “Sorry, sorry.” He started rubbing his leg, unable to stop himself. “Well, I could tell you about the time I snuck into the morgue and almost got stuck in a drawer.”

“That’s not real, you’re embellishing.” Johnny opened his eyes and the tips of his ears got even pinker when he saw of Gyro was still touching him. He didn’t ask him to stop though, even though he couldn’t feel it. Gyro wondered if he could get away with pulling him against his chest and burying his face in his hair, then just pass out on the couch like that. Johnny reminded Gyro of a cat. One second he’d accept the belly rubs and the next he’d rip your skin off. Take it slow, H.P had told him. But when Gyro was drunk all he wanted to do was get close to people. If it were anyone else, Gyro would have them in his bed by now, and the more he looked at Johnny the more he wanted to throw him over his shoulder, carry him to his bedroom and make love to him. He was sure Johnny would complain the entire time but he wanted to see those eyes get glazed over and that mouth of his fall open.

Gyro knew better though, thankfully, and he had self-control, contrary to popular belief. So he just smiled softly at Johnny, tapping a beat onto the tip of his boot. “It’s very real. I’ll tell you allll about it. Every single dirty detail.”

“Stop playing the drums on my foot.” He grumbled, setting down his wine glass. When had he drank all of that? Gyro had taken two sips. “You said you liked to sing?”

“Nyo ho, you want to hear me sing?”

“I didn’t say that.” Johnny muttered, the blush spreading. “I was just makin conversation.” Johnny yawned and closed his eyes again as Gyro finally go to tell his morgue story. It was actually a very long set up to one of the best puns Gyro could come up with (about a skeleton lacking chutzpah, due to his lack of organs and how Gyro almost lost his to a very ill tempered nurse with a scalpel), and when he finally let it loose Johnny made a noise like he had been stabbed.

“That was so awful it comes back to being funny.” Johnny sat up, leaning in closer to Gyro. “Like you.”

“Shut up, you terrible boy.” Gyro playfully slapped his cheek. Johnny couldn’t seem to focus his eyes and his arms were shaking. “You look like you’re gonna pass out any second.”

“I’m fine. Just leave me on the couch.”

“No sir, you’re the guest. You can sleep in my bed tonight.”

Johnny gave him an odd look. He seemed to have lost control of his facial muscles. “With you?”

Gyro laughed way too loudly. “No silly, I’ll take the couch, c’mon lets go.” Johnny whined, complaining over how tired he was. His arms hurt, his back hurt, he just wanted to sleep. Gyro rolled his eyes and scooped him up into his arms like a bride.

“No, fuck I hate being carried.” He mumbled, trying to push Gyro away and failing spectacularly.

“Good thing it’s just a short trip then.” Gyro said, taking him to his bedroom. “Ugh, you’re heavier than I thought you’d be.” But while Johnny was complaining Gyro was secretly on cloud 9. Johnny was so cute when he was grumpy. He gently laid him onto his bed and he started to fall asleep immediately. “No, wait let’s at least get your shoes and stuff off.”

Johnny didn’t protest this time as Gyro pulled his boots of, setting them on the floor. He removed his scarf and hat and jacket and his cardigan. He was just in a Henley now that was riding up and Gyro’s gut lurched. Johnny had a very cute stomach. Johnny murmured something and rolled over, now completely flat on his chest with his face in Gyro’s pillow. Gyro just huffed, and cursed God, because apparently in addition to having a kinda sweet set of abs, Johnny also had one of the nicest asses Gyro had ever seen. It was cruel that he was in his bed and Gyro wasn’t laying beside him.

“You comfy?” Gyro asked, staring at the curve of his back.

Johnny didn’t answer. He was already completely gone. Gyro leaned across Johnny to grab a pillow but stopped short. Johnny had what they called permanent bitch face. When he wasn’t scowling he looked bored. So now, with his eyes and mouth all relaxed and soft, Gyro found himself unable to not push his bangs back and kiss his forehead. “Why can't you look this cute all the time,” Gyro wondered aloud, wandering back to his living room. He fell onto the couch, curling up in the throw blanket and falling asleep as soon as he shut his eyes.