Work Text:
"If that's the case, what are you so worried about?"
"Dr. Gearloose, it's not that simple, well-"
The two often worked after hours at the bin, in the underwater lab which was dimly lit and quiet. The surrounding water blocked out natural noise, and the space was filled with the gentle whirring of machinery and the chit-chat of two drowsy scientists. Manny had left hours before, lil bulb was off engaged in their own hobbies, and the pair hadn't glanced at a clock for long enough to know anything besides the fact that it was probably around midnight.
Fenton had received romantic advice from questionable parties in his life. His family, occasionally the internet, and a group of children, to name a few. Though a persistent crush on a friend of his (a coworker, he nervously repeated in his mind) kept him on edge in his place of work, relationships came up in conversation and Fenton was oddly calm, not as fidgety, a little embarrassed. By the sheer grace of higher power in the universe, he didn't insist on leaving the lab as soon as possible. He stayed.
Being recently promoted and on almost equal status in the workplace with his former boss, Gyro had warmed up to him where he seemed to show more than simple tolerance and appeared to enjoy his company. Appeared to. Nagging insecurity in the back of Fenton's mind insisted that it was an act of some sort, even though Gyro Gearloose is famously irritable and would in no way fake being nice to someone for this long. It went against his hardened character.
"So have you tried flirting with this mysterious person?" Gyro quirked a brow, sitting up a little more at his desk, showing interest in the topic they'd come to. "You've yet to tell me about them so I don't know quite how to help you yet," he crossed his arms.
"I suppose… but I, well my love language seems to be acts of service or favors?" He paused and thought of every time today alone he's dropped his work to ride the elevator to the pep machine upstairs or get a tool for Gyro, "I can't flirt without making a fool of myself."
Gyro averted his glance. "Being nice is a start. Everyone's different, this person probably enjoys what you do for them and thinks about you often because of it," leaning forward, he propped his head up with his arm on the desk, other hand tapping absently on the surface. "Tell me about them. You don't have to say their name, just describe for me."
Fenton sat to think. In front of Gyro's desk, he straddled the back of a rolling office chair and slowly shifted across the floor, rolling its wheels back and forth gently and rhythmically. He swallowed thickly and began, under the other's laser focus. "Well, I see them every day. They've been awfully nice to me lately, and like I said, I do a lot of favors for them, he asks a lot of them-" Fenton's head spun, he stared intensely at the floor, "he's very smart and wonderfully talented, I used to say it often but it's hard for me to compliment him now. He's taller than me-" another pause, and he felt his face burn hotter, he chuckled lightly and began to mutter quickly, "He has great hair honestly, cute glasses, is a big nerd, often wildly misunderstood by others, and I… oh-" He flicked his eyes back up from the floor.
He was greatly surprised and a little relieved to see that Gyro was possibly redder than he was, nervously moving items on his desk. Not returning eye contact, Gyro softened and huffed. "And?"
"And I'm in love with him," came the answer without skipping a beat.
When the silence bordered on suffocating, Gyro locked eyes with him. Clearing his throat, Dr. Gearloose suddenly stood up. "Well-" Moving to the front of his desk, he pushed aside a pile of papers and sat. "What moves do you have? Practice on me."Gyro is certainly not an idiot, but feigning ignorance was awfully fun. So was being a teasing bastard.
"Are you asking me to roleplay?" Fenton sputtered, he thought he'd been perfectly clear, but Gyro clearly enjoyed forcing someone to be direct it seemed. Fine. If I get fired for this, I swear to god-
Fenton stood up and kicked the chair, making it skid out of his way. He sucked in a breath. Fisting his hands in the front of Gyro's shirt, he unceremoniously yanked him forward, closed his eyes, and kissed him with every bit of pent up frustration he could manage.
His eyes being shut, he missed Gyro's fluttering shut, the fast change of balance as his hands scrambled at the edge of the desk, his decision of trusting Fenton's hold and letting go of the edge to tangle his hands in the other's brown hair instead.
The rough contact made him lightheaded. Although he'd prefer to do anything besides pull away, a dazed Gyro leaned back just enough to adjust his glasses. "... Took you long enough, Crackshell-Cabrera."