Work Text:
we'll meet again (don't know where, don't know when)
rain drumming on the roof of a car is timed perfectly with the beat of some generic poppy song on the radio, and johnny joestar, driving through the middle of town in the pouring rain, taps his fingers on his steering wheel to the beat.
the sound of tires splashing muddy water up onto his freshly washed car doors is no surprise to him, but he still grimaces, thinking how he certainly wouldn't've gone to the car wash if he knew it was going to rain as he pulls up to the drive-thru of the closest fast food joint on the right.
"welcome to--" johnny tunes out the man speaking and gives the menu a quick once-over, as if he doesn't know what he's getting. at the other person's pause he hesitates a bit before saying something about small fries and a milkshake. his mind isn't on fast food; it's on whether or not he left the heat on back at his apartment. the rain dropped the temperature about thirty degrees, and as he takes his food from the worker and hands back a few bills, johnny thinks about how much he hates it when his place is cold.
his foot's already on the gas when the man who handed him his food leans over, taps him on the shoulder.
"hey, have we met somewhere before?"
johnny studies the other man's face for a moment- he figures they're both the same age, and figures the guy's too weirdly handsome to be working at a fast food place. he's got a vaguely european accent johnny can't exactly place, and all in all he seems like a complete stranger.
"no, i think i would've remembered."
the handsome man narrows his eyes, before shrugging and looking in the other direction. "yeah, you're probably right. okay--have a nice day."
the man in the car drives away without another word, and gyro zeppeli adjusts his ponytail with one hand and clocks out with the other before ducking out the door and through the rain to his own car, thinking of the customer's familiar face all the while.
--
a cloud of dust flies up from where a heavy book hit a wooden table, and gyro is reminded why he kept photo albums like these in a box in the basement of his parents' house.
his roommate isn't home to stick his nose into gyro's things for once, and the man is thankful. he braids his hair absent-mindedly, unbraids it, and sits down with the dusty photo book open in his lap.
thirty pages later, he's annoyed. forty, he's irritated. sixty, he gives up. there's dust on his jeans and the tips of his fingers, his hair is knotted from being braided and unbraided over and over, and he still hasn't figured out why the man at the drive-thru looked so hauntingly familiar. but gyro's pawed through all his college photos, all his high school photos, all the pictures of him with long hair and short hair and braces and a graduation cap. and nowhere has he seen even a glimpse of the man at the drive-thru.
his phone hasn't made a sound, either, and he had left it with the volume turned up. standing up with a sigh, gyro closes the book, releasing another puff of dust into the air of his musty city apartment.
--
the rain is letting up now, but johnny's fingers still drum on the side of his wheelchair, his long nails tapping out some kind of indistinguishable rhythm. he digs his phone out of one sweatshirt pocket and his fast food receipt out of the other, tapping with his nails aimlessly on the phone screen.
the number on the receipt is scrawled in a hurried kind of handwriting, and there are three words underneath in letters looking like chickenscratch.
"gyro. call me"
johnny doesn't call "gyro". he finishes his fries, tosses the container in the trash like he's shooting hoops, and wheels his way around the apartment in no particular direction.
he scrolls through pictures on his phone- there's a pic of his friend's dog, a pic of another friend's cat, a few weird selfies he doesn't remember taking, a few weird pictures of his friends he doesn't remember them taking, and the rest is even more useless. he watches as the screen goes dark, pauses, and taps his nails on the screen to the beat of the rain.
--
gyro, at 3 am, makes a mental note for next time he falls asleep on the couch: at least turn his phone volume down first.
his roommate still isn't home- he's probably with some girl, or some guy, or dead in an alley, or all three. but diego's usually the last thing on gyro's mind at 3 am, and much less when his phone is ringing. loudly.
"it's 3 am." he's too out of it for a hello, and his accent is thick and ugly with sleeplessness. "yeah- that's my bad. sorry." the person on the other end sounds weirdly breathless, in a way that sounds as if he's not out of breath; he just always sounds like that.
"this is gyro, right?" gyro, having almost fallen asleep again in the fifteen-second pause between sentences, rubs his eyes sorely before answering."mngbbh...uh. yeah. speaking."
"we...haven't met before."
the other man sounds almost unsure, as if he's undecided on whether or not the two have met before. gyro bites his lip, trying to use his handful of awake brain cells to form a response.
"must be a weird coincidence, then, uh--" he doesn't know his name. gyro gave his own name to the other man, scribbled it with a note on the food's receipt, but gyro doesn't even know this man's name.
"johnny. i'm johnny joestar." to gyro, it sounds almost as if johnny's smiling, and he runs his free hand through his tangled hair. to him, "johnny joestar" sounds bafflingly familiar, but foreign all the same, like the first time he hears a song and he swears he recognizes that bass line from somewhere.
"gyro- it’s nice to meet you, johnny." he's grasping at straws for things to say, and finding none. "it's- okay, you already know it's 3 am."
gyro hears johnny shuffle in the background, and yawns despite himself. "yeah. i'll--" johnny breaks off with a surprised sound, before yawning loudly right into the phone. "you made me yawn!"
the long-haired man snickers. "you deserve it for wakin' a guy up at 3 in the morning!"
johnny grins somehow audibly, before sighing in what sounds like exaggerated defeat. "alright, you win! i'll let you go--everything else can wait 'til morning, i guess."
gyro's eyes widen, and he combs his fingers again through his hair. "what, there's an 'everything else'?" he asks innocently, grinning as if he got away with some kind of prank.
"forget i said anything! go back to sleep."
gyro cackles obnoxiously. "yeah, yeah--talk to ya tomorrow then i guess, johnny."
"later, gyro. g'night."
"night."
the long-haired man stands up, stretches- sleeping on the couch is awful for his back, his mother always told him. climbing into bed slowly, gyro's thoughts are occupied with the breathless voice of johnny joestar he feels he's heard a thousand times before.
--
the morning creeps harshly through the gap in johnny's curtains, sending sunlight streaming right to his face. out of the corner of half-opened, sleepy eyes, he sees a flash of black fur slink out from under his bed.
"hey--c'mere, dancer!"
the cat hisses, twitches its tail, and slinks back under the bed from where it came.
"stupid cat."
johnny sighs, twiddling with his phone in his hand. there's one unread message from the night before--from a contact he hadn't saved, saying something about having to go into work and that he'll call later. johnny saves the number as gyro- he doesn't know the man's last name, not a nickname, not anything. he's just gyro.
the fair-haired man slips into his wheelchair like he's done a hundred times before, wonders what "just gyro" is doing. working at his job, maybe, or cruising down the highway in whatever kind of car he even has--he does have a car, right?
truth be told, johnny knows next to nothing about just gyro, and he makes a mental note to find out a little more. small things, to satisfy his curiosity- what kind of car he has, if he's a dog or cat person, bits and pieces of a familiar enigma.
johnny pours himself a bowl of cereal, opens up an old newspaper he left lying on his kitchen table, and looks at the words on the page. he doesn't read them, just looks, and just listens to the sound of the rain on the roof of his small apartment.
slow dancer jumps up on the table and laps up the milk out of the set aside bowl of frosted flakes.
--
gyro wakes up to the sight of his alarm clock saying one in the afternoon, and proceeds to nearly have a heart attack. his roommate is sitting cross-legged in front of the tv half-heartedly flipping through channels as gyro walks in, and he pauses his actions to turn and grin at the disheveled long-haired blonde. "morning, sleeping beauty."
gyro scowls at his roommate's cheeky grin. "diego--why didn't you wake me up? it's past noon already!"
diego stands up, shrugging. "figured you needed the beauty sleep, and it was nice and quiet in here. besides, your bedroom door being closed means that devil cat of yours isn't around to harass my poor baby bullet."
gyro's scowl deepens. "valkyrie isn't a devil cat, and 'poor baby' is about the last words i'd use to describe that hellhound in a thousand years." he glares pointedly at the sleeping mutt curled up next to diego on the floor, and it opens one eye as if to glare back before returning to doggy dreamland.
the shorter blonde gives a cackling laugh before patting his roommate on the back and strolling with his hands in his pockets into the kitchen. "man, if you're this grumpy now, i'm real glad i didn't wake you up any earlier!" he feigns throwing a coffeepot at gyro, smiling widely. "here--i made coffee while you were still out cold. help yourself."
"dick." gyro takes the pot from the smaller man, pouring the coffee sloppily into a slightly chipped mug.
"you'd be lost without me." diego blows a kiss in his roommate's direction, and gyro isn't sure if he's joking or serious.
silver bullet leaves a puddle of drool lovingly in gyro's lap, and trots off to the sound of gyro hissing about how much of a cat person he is.
--
[3:14:00 pm]G: hey johnny?
[3:15:34 pm]J: Yeah?
[3:15:57 pm]G: you doing anything tonight?
[3:16:01 pm]G: i mean
[3:16:07 pm]G: its easier than calling at 2 am
[3:16:38 pm]J: Well you're right about that
[3:16:46 pm]J: And I'm pretty sure I'm free for tonight
[3:17:03 pm]G: great!
[3:17:15 pm]G: oh--wait
[3:18:50 pm]J: Something wrong?
[3:19:13 pm]G: i totally promised to take my roomies dog to the park for him, hes working the night shift at his job tonight
[3:19:49 pm]J: So?
[3:20:00 pm]J: I'm down for dog walking haha
[3:20:33 pm]G: for real?
[3:20:58 pm]J: For real!
[3:22:10 pm]G: great! so, uh...9 pm? i forget the name of the park but its the big one everyone takes thier dog to
[3:22:15 pm]G: *their
[3:23:01 pm]J: Sounds good and yeah I know which one you're talking about
[3:23:45 pm]G: ok see you there then!
[3:24:00 pm]J: See you
[3:24:32 pm]J: (:-)
[3:25:13 pm]G: |B-)
--
there's no more sound of rain on the apartment roof, and johnny leaves his umbrella hanging on the coatrack, still dripping wet from his short trip grocery shopping. he grabs a light jacket and wheels out into the still-damp air. the clouds are gone, and stars blink in and out like winking eyes down at the wheelchair-bound man.
the park's a short enough distance away to not bother driving, and the night air fills johnny's lungs with a sensation he hasn't felt in a while, he thinks. either it's the air, or the anticipation of meeting gyro in person for the first proper time. his headphones are playing some kind of 80s tune, but he doesn't listen to the words, just taps out the rhythm on his wheelchair with one hand while he spins one of the wheels with the other.
johnny knows the city looks great at night, knows that's one of the reasons he moved out from the west in the first place. and the park is the crème de la crème, a calm oasis of green in the bustling metropolis of the city. even in the middle of the night, the park is buzzing with life, small dogs barking and crickets chirping. fall has been stalking the east coast rapidly, turning the green leaves to yellows and reds as the cold air sweeps in.
one man's voice is more prominent than the others, with a rough kind of tone and some accent johnny still can't place any more easily than he could when he heard it for the first time.
"hey--damn it, bullet, get over here!"
the man's hair is pulled up in a messy ponytail, and wavy as if it was recently braided. his sweatshirt has the name of some college on it, but seems to be a little tight on him, as if he borrowed it from someone with a smaller frame. over the phone, johnny didn't see him as someone who'd sport skinny jeans like he did, but the pair the man was wearing completed the outfit in a strangely fitting kind of way.
the man chases after a drooling dog, some kind of mutt with patches of black and brown, the leash trailing behind the dog as he trots from tree to tree. johnny watches, amused, before wheeling up to the duo just as gyro grabs a hold of the leash once more.
"need some help?" gyro turns at the sound of the other man's voice, and turns crimson with embarrassment at the fact that their meeting started off with a wild goose chase after some mutt.
johnny grins at gyro's beet-red face, wheeling up to him and extending a hand in a more formal kind of greeting. "johnny joestar."
gyro switches the dog's leash to another hand before leaning down and stretching out his hand to shake johnny's. "gyro zeppeli. nice to meet you--again." he smiles, and johnny is reminded again of his first impression of the long-haired man. though less mysterious than before, gyro's undeniably attractive, giving even johnny's ex-boyfriend a run for his money, he thinks.
"yeah, nice to meet you again too. and it's nice to meet--" he gestures to the dog, "whoever this is."
gyro leans over to scratch the dog in between the ears and grins. "oh, this is silver bullet. i didn't name him, he's my roommate's, which is why he still doesn't like to listen to anything i tell him to do." he gives a grimace, but his eyes are still smiling, and the dog wags his tail as if he knows he's being talked about.
johnny bends down and pats bullet's side amiably. "i knew a dog named silver bullet once, a couple years back...must be some kinda weird coincidence." he shakes his head, laughing. "i've never been a huge dog person, but...i hope we can get along, little man."
the dog barks as if in agreement, and gyro looks impressed. "he likes you!" the other man laughs. "or maybe he just smells all the cat hair on me. honestly, never get a white cat. they're disasters."
gyro shakes his head. "yeah, my valkyrie's black and white. i know what you mean!"
"damn, valkyrie's some name for a cat! you'll probably end up giving it some kind of ego with a big name like that."
"oh, believe me, i already have. she's the self-declared queen of the household."
"sounds like dancer. he likes to pretend everything in the house belongs to him."
"geez, let's hope he never meets valkyrie, then. they'll fight for ultimate ruler of the household."
"yeah, either that or they'll become the rulers together and become unconquerable." johnny snickers at the thought. "king and queen of the cats!"
gyro laughs loudly and fully for the first time, and it comes from his chest, bubbling up like a baking soda and vinegar volcano out of his mouth and into the brisk night. johnny is, quite frankly, enchanted.
by the time gyro's done laughing, he's out of breath and grinning ear to ear, clouds of hot breath condensing into clouds in front of his face in the chilled air. "you know, johnny, for someone i just met, it feels like we've known each other forever."
johnny can feel his face turn warm in the cold night, and smiles. "yeah...i feel like that too. honestly...it's like reuniting with an old friend."
gyro nods. "yeah." the next few minutes are spent in silence, watching the stars' slow travel across the sky and the breeze tickle the leaves on the trees.
there's a tapping sound from his right, and gyro turns his head to look at the other man. he sees him as if for the first time, in his plain blue jacket and sweat pants, a light blue beanie lying lopsided on his fair hair. his left hand is tapping absently on the side of his wheelchair, beating out an erratic rhythm of the man's own creation. he looks like some kind of angel in the pale moonlight, and gyro feels like he's walking in a dream, as if it's too good to be true.
johnny yawns, and covers his mouth quickly after. "sorry."
gyro shakes his head, gives a half-smile in johnny's direction. "no, it's fine...it's getting late."
"is it really?"
"yeah...almost eleven."
"you're kidding!"
"time just flies, i guess."
"that's for sure." johnny smiles tiredly, scratching bullet behind the ears absently.
"you need a lift home, or are you good?"
"i'm good. thank you, though, gyro--for the offer, for tonight, for everything."
gyro is taken aback, despite himself, by how genuine johnny is. he's nothing and everything gyro expected, and the long-haired man finds his thoughts occupied by the fair-haired man in the wheelchair.
"yeah--yeah. you're welcome." their eyes meet, and both of the two know there's something there worth trying again. "so, when can i see you again?"
johnny smiles, in his mouth and in his eyes equally. "i think...anytime. maybe not three am, though."
gyro laughs softly this time, and nods. "sounds good to me!"
"alright, then...until next time."
"'til next time." gyro takes one of johnny's hands in his own- it's soft, but tough, and he shakes it eagerly. "see you, johnny."
silver bullet gives one last enthusiastic bark before the two disappear back into the gloom of the night and the park.
johnny grins and turns his wheelchair around, heading back towards his apartment, tapping out an unnamed melody on his chair with his fingernails.
--
"rise and shine, sleeping beauty!"
gyro leaps up, and his first sight after opening his eyes in the morning is the all too enthusiastic face of diego. "you forgot to set your alarm again. remember--lost without me!"
the long-haired man takes a half-hearted, sleepy swipe at his cheeky roommate. "in your dreams."
"you better quit dreaming, or you'll be late for work!"
gyro swings his legs over the side of the bed, -he never changed out of his jeans, for the same reason he never set his alarm clock. he went to bed with his thoughts full of johnny, and waded through dreams of a fair-haired angel in his sleep. but dreams were over for today, gyro reminds himself, and the reality that was fast food was the new priority. he redoes his ponytail and changes into his uniform, still half-asleep the whole time.
silver bullet refrains from drooling on his pants this time, and gyro finds himself for some reason thankful.
--
"hey, welcome home!"
"why are you so loud?" gyro is irritable. work went badly, customers argued, he didn't get nearly enough sleep, and diego's constant night shifts mean he's always home and always annoying. "don't you have somewhere to be, someone to do, anything?"
"nah, not today. maybe tomorrow." he's cheeky, like usual, grinning with a mouth as wide as a snake's.
gyro sighs, pulls off his uniform shirt resignedly. "well, i may or may not have plans later, so..."
diego raises his eyebrows. "what, are you gonna finally let me meet your little boyfriend?"
spluttering, gyro narrows his eyes and goes on the defensive. "how do you--i don't have a boyfriend!"
"well, your not-boyfriend left a voicemail on the house line. something about being free today, so call him up whenever you get home from work."
gyro lets out another sigh, but his heart lifts. "i'll call him back, then." he sits down heavily on the couch, running a hand through his hair. diego sits down next to him, hands him a beer.
"what's this for, diego?"
"if you don't want it, you can say so."
"no, but it's not any kind of special occasion, is it?"
"well, sure it is. it's the first day of fall."
"you made that up."
"yeah, i did. first day of fall was a few days ago. you missed it."
"so what's with the beer?"
"dunno. just felt like it."
"well, alright."
they sit in silence, alternating sips of beer. casual conversation comes and goes in waves, rising and falling: they discuss the weather, sports, anything that comes to mind.
diego stretches and pats gyro on the back before standing up, silver bullet running eagerly to his side. "go call back that not-boyfriend of yours already."
gyro grins. "i'm working on it, gimme a minute!"
--
[1 missed call: Gyro Zeppeli]
[6:13:04 pm]J: Hey, sorry I missed you, I was busy
[6:14:12 pm]G: dont worry bout it! since were already talking i wanna ask you something tho
[6:14:50 pm]J: Ask me what?
[6:15:22 pm]G: wanna come over to my place? roomie wants to meet you
[6:15:49 pm]J: Oh yeah I'd love to! what time?
[6:16:04 pm]G: whenever i guess. we arent gonna be busy for the rest of the night
[6:16:53 pm]J: Okay sounds good. Ive got to get some stuff together then Ill leave
[6:17:32 pm]G: heh nice! see you later then
[6:18:11 pm]J: Later!
[6:18:59 pm]G: |B-)
[6:19:44 pm]J: (:-)
--
johnny tells himself he doesn't have to dress any nicer than usual just to go to gyro's house, proceeds to ignore himself, and takes care (though futilely) not to get too many of dancer's white hairs on his clothes.
he's still got the same beanie on as he did the first night they really met, gyro notices. his jeans look new, almost, and the plaid shirt fits the small blonde in a way gyro hadn't expected.
johnny's car is different from what gyro expected- big enough to fit a wheelchair, obviously, but still not anything near a minivan. it dwarfs gyro's own tiny car, but must be good for grocery shopping, the long-haired man muses to himself.
"nice place." johnny smiles, eyes flitting over the exterior of the apartment. it's in a dark, quiet corner of the city, and crickets chirp from nooks and crannies unseen.
gyro grins widely. "right?"
the inside of the apartment is very gyro, johnny thinks. not tidy, but not dirty, with stuff pushed into corners in what seems to have been a hasty effort to make the house look presentable.
the fair-haired man's thoughts, however, are interrupted by a shout from a hallway out of sight of the front entrance.
"gyro! your not-boyfriend here yet?" a blonde, shaggy head sticks around a corner, and johnny feels his heart stop.
--
"what--what are you doing here?" johnny's voice is scathing, eyes narrowed.
"i live here!" diego's equally irritated, folding his arms across his chest. "what are you doing with him?"
"he's-" johnny stops himself, giving a quick half-second glance at gyro before continuing. "he's a friend."
gyro looks and feels as if he'd walked into a nuclear bomb going off. his roommate looks poised to pounce, like a predator seconds away from closing the deal on his prey. his-- he doesn't know what johnny is to him, not right now, but he knows the man in the wheelchair looks like he's just been attacked. he's on the defensive, one hand on one wheel of his chair and the other nervously tapping out a staccato beat on the armrest.
"listen, what the hell is going on with you two?" his voice echoes around the small room, strong enough to shut the two arguing men up immediately.
they pause, then reply at the same time, as if waiting for a silent cue of some kind. "we used to date." "he's my ex."
another pause.
"gyro, i- i should go."
"no, johnny, listen-!" gyro's fists are clenched, nails digging into his palms.
"really, it's no problem. we can just--we can meet up some other time."
"johnny, no, we can work something out--"
"if he wants to go..." diego's voice has an almost malicious quality, smooth and dark and threatening. ”just let him. who are you to stop him? he's /the/ johnny joestar."
"wait, what's with the /the/? johnny?"
johnny's fingers are tapping frantically, the rhythm erratic and panicked. his face is calm, eyes burning with a strange fire, mouth silent and tight-lipped.
"it's a long story." when he finally speaks, it's quiet. the only sound is the breathing of the three men, and the sound of bullet's clunky footfalls from another room unseen.
"we were racers," diego begins. "nascar. we were young and stupid- we've known each other since we were practically newborns, you know."
at the pause, johnny picks up the tale. "first it was my brother--he was a legend. broke all kinds of records. people would say he was a cheater, anything from additives in fuel to special enhanced tires. drugs, even. but none of it was true. he was just a real good racer--damn near gifted."
"was?" gyro regrets the word as soon as it sneaks out of his lips. johnny's eyes are downcast, and he shifts awkwardly in his chair.
"there was an accident. fire, all that. it was bad."
diego takes over again, spitting the tale out like a bitter taste in his mouth. "we were next in line to be the two racing greats, johnny and i. everyone was always talking about us, about which of us would win the next race. it was as if the rest of the drivers didn't mean a thing to anyone. at least," he looks pointedly at johnny, "not until that /accident/."
the tapping stops as johnny clenches his fists. gyro looks curious, but hesitantly so, as if he's trying to suppress it. he doesn't say a word, just waits. sure enough, johnny continues from where diego left off, speaking slowly and deliberately.
"it was after a race- me in first place, diego in second. i thought i was hot shit." diego grins at this, and johnny shoots him a deadly glare. "i did. i always had, back then, you know? i was cocky, i got in fights. one day--" he swallows hard, as if a lump is stuck in his throat. "one day i picked a fight with the wrong guy. woke up lying in a hospital bed--i couldn't feel my legs."
gyro doesn't make eye contact with him. the long-haired man looks at the ground, fumbling with his hands in his pockets. he's at a loss for words, but doesn't search for anything to say, figuring instead that it would be best to stay quiet.
"johnny and i dated after his brother died. no one knew about it- we knew the media would go fucking nuts. we broke up--"
"you broke up with me. when i got shot. i never went back to racing, never saw you again."
"i thought you were dead."
"that's a lie."
"it's true! it was on the news, that you were in a fight, that you disappeared. carted off to some hospital in the middle of nowhere. no one cared after they knew you'd never be driving again. i was the racing king, johnny, you'd've done the same thing. there was no competition anymore. it got boring without you, so i quit, but...you would have done the same thing."
"you're wrong, diego."
gyro feels as if he's lost the ability to speak completely, as if his voice box was ripped from his throat. he stands, glancing back and forth between the man in the wheelchair and the man standing.
"you know that's not true."
"you've forgotten how long i've known you."
"you've forgotten how long it's been since we've seen each other. you've forgotten how you used to be. that's why you hate me, i remind me of how you were."
"i'm not that petty a person. i've left it in the past, i left you in the past."
"i'm glad you're not dead."
diego sits down on the floor, sighs. gyro is surprised- the lanky man looks like he aged twenty years in half as many minutes. the shorter blonde stands up again, walks to the fridge.
"have a beer."
the three of them sit in silence, still. diego looks as if he's hovering on the edge of a sentence, like a bubble about to burst. gyro continues to say nothing - he denied a beer with the shake of his head. he doesn't feel like drinking, prefers to just sit and absorb the fact that the second time he's met johnny (third, technically), he's learned not only his life story, but that of gyro's own roommate.
"you can date him if you want."
gyro is pulled out of his thoughts abruptly as he realizes diego is speaking to him, now.
"johnny, i mean. you can date him. you two suit each other."
johnny rolls his eyes, takes another swig of beer. "thanks, mom." the two look at each other and grin for the first time since the man in the wheelchair arrived, and gyro can feel himself relaxing for the first time that night.
"gyro, you sure you don't want a drink?"
he looks up, gives a half-smile. "i'm sure."
--
diego leaves for his night shift twenty minutes later, throwing out his empty beer bottle before nodding to johnny and gyro and heading out the door.
the two men still in the apartment make idle chatter, a kind of placeholder to shove away the awkwardness of the earlier conversation. eventually, they run out of tidbits to talk about, and sit in the still air of the apartment in silence once again.
"diego's not a bad guy." johnny's comment comes straight out of left field for gyro, and he's surprised. "he doesn't mean half the things he says. he's impulsive."
gyro nods, slowly. "he's certainly a handful."
there's another gap in the conversation, another period of quiet populated with sounds of breathing and of the dog in the other room.
"you wanna stay the night? i mean, i'm off tomorrow." gyro blurts out what he's thinking as he thinks it, but for once, he doesn't regret it after. johnny's expression seals the deal - he looks content, face flushed. "actually, yeah." he yawns, following it up with breathy laughter. "that sounds great."
"that's a deal, then!" gyro chuckles softly. "diego doesn't get back 'til a lot later, and--oh, you haven't met the baby yet!" johnny's expression turns to a puzzled look as he watches gyro scoop up a squirming, black and white lump from the floor.
"valkyrie, this is johnny. johnny, valkyrie." the cat meows in protest, pawing at gyro's arms. "don't be an ass, val. let johnny pet ya." she climbs into the arms of the man in the wheelchair, purring softly, and curls up in his lap.
gyro scowls. "geez, you're some kinda cat whisperer." johnny laughs, shakes his head. "nah--she probably just smells dancer on me, like the dog did last night."
the taller man rolls his eyes. "eh, somethin' like that."
there's another pause in the conversation, but it's lighter- the weight of the silence on the two men's shoulders is considerably less. johnny is the first to speak, raising his hands above his heads in a stretch. "gyro, i'm beat."
"you too?" gyro yawns, standing up slowly. "we've got no guest room, but the couch isn't half bad, and..." he ducks into one of the rooms quickly, then turns back to johnny. "there might be enough room on my bed for two, actually. if you don't mind me being a blanket hog."
gyro grins at johnny, who rolls his eyes back with a smile. he wheels after the taller man into the bedroom- it's bigger than he expected from an apartment. there's a small tv on one wall, and the bed smack in the middle of the room.
"you've got enough room to move around and all, right?" gyro's voice is tinted with concern, and johnny smiles, waving a hand dismissively to assure everything's fine. "yeah, i'm good."
gyro's asleep before his head even hits the pillow. johnny can feel sleep taking hold of him, too, as he hoists himself into the bed.
valkyrie curls up at the end of the bed, purring softly, and it's the last thing the ex-racer sees before closing his eyes and letting sleep finally pull him under.
--
gyro's first thought, upon awakening, is how good it feels to wake up without diego yelling in his face for a change.
"rise and shine," he hears from his left- johnny is already awake, at least somewhat. he smiles sleepily in gyro's direction, eyes half-open, fair hair sticking up in a thousand tiny cowlicks.
from the other room, the distinctive opening and closing of the fridge and cabinets sounds as if diego's both home and in the kitchen. a smell rolls in- gyro is shocked, not at the scent, but what it implies.
"diego!" there's no answer. he sits up in the bed, raises his voice. "diego! you're not making breakfast, are you?"
johnny smiles wider now, sitting up and hanging his legs over the side of the bed. footsteps approach from another room and the door creaks open to show diego standing with his hair tied back and some kind of powder dusting the front of his pajamas. "i had a fight with pancakes. it was brutal, but i don't think they're a threat any longer." his voice is lowered, parodying that of some kind of action star.
laughter bubbles up in johnny's chest. "well, the aftermath smells good. how long 'til they're ready?"
diego chews on the inside of his lip, thinking. "uhh..." he jumps as a timer begins to beep from the other room, startling him out of his thoughts. "there's your answer." he takes off, and the two men still in the bed stare after him with varying degrees of smiles.
gyro shakes his head, laughing. "this is why i cook most of the time!" johnny snorts in response. "yeah? i thought valkyrie did the cooking."
"very funny!" the long-haired man stands up, runs a hand through his hair in the absence of a comb. he doesn't bother changing out of pajamas, just pulls his unruly hair back into a ponytail and braids it sloppily.
johnny watches him, fascinated by how fast his fingers move in and out of strands of hair. slipping from the bed into his chair, he too combs through his own hair with his fingers, pulling on his favorite beanie to hide the worst of the cowlicks. the apartment outside of the bedroom is flooded with light, windows wide open, and the fair-haired man stops halfway to the kitchen to just take in the scene.
gyro pushes him from behind, shaking him out of his daydream and cackling softly. "you're not still fallin' asleep on me, are you?" johnny grins wryly, threatening to roll backwards over gyro's foot if he does it again.
the entire kitchen smells of pancakes, and diego looks more pleased with himself than gyro's ever seen him. the harsh animosity of the night before is gone, replaced with an atmosphere of companionship gyro is surprised by, but welcomes.
the room is quiet for a bit, the only sound being the scraping of forks on plates and the chewing of the pancakes.
"these are pretty good, diego. all this time and i never knew you could cook." johnny's voice is soft, but he's being truthful, and diego looks genuinely grateful. "yeah, well, learn somethin' new every day." he smiles, looking down at his plate with an air of satisfaction.
when the plates are in the sink and the dog and cat are fed, diego comes out of his room finally dressed in something other than pajamas. "i'm gonna head to the supermarket- we're low on some stuff. milk and shit." gyro nods, sitting on the couch now with johnny at his side. he knows they don't really need groceries, knows diego's just leaving so the two other men can spend time alone, but he doesn't mention it. looking into johnny's eyes, he gets the feeling the other knows the truth too, but neither of them speak.
there's nothing on tv, which is expected for eleven in the morning on a saturday. the two leave cartoons on finally, sitting and chatting about nothing in particular, still in their pajamas.
"hey, gyro?" johnny's tone turns serious, suddenly, and gyro is a bit surprised and a bit apprehensive.
"what's up?"
"what diego said last night- the bit about dating me. are you gonna, you know..."
"go through with it?"
"yeah."
"you tell me." gyro grins, and the last thing he sees before closing his eyes is johnny's smiling lips rising up to meet his own.