Chapter Text
Something was different.
Much. Much different.
About him, or about Fenton, Gyro really couldn’t tell. But something for sure has changed.
“Fenton, can you get me another cup of coffee please?”
“No problem, Dr. Gearloose!”
“I told you to stop calling me that,” Gyro sighed, sinking back into his chair. “We’re equals now. You can drop the formalities.”
“Of course, D- Gyro,” Fenton said, and even though Gyro wasn’t looking at him, he could almost hear the smile in his voice. “Coffee, coming right up!”
Fenton returned a few minutes later with a steaming mug, the words “#1 BOSS” printed onto it. It was a mug Fenton had bought Gyro a while ago, and as much as Gyro hates to admit it, he’s grown an attachment to it and considers it his favorite mug. Though he’s never said it aloud, Fenton knows all, and so always uses it whenever making him coffee.
“Here you go, Gyro! Medium roast coffee with a splash of hazelnut creamer, just as you like it,” Fenton said, returning from his short trip.
Gyro looked up from his desk, grabbing the mug from Fenton’s hand. Their fingers brushed against each other for a moment, and Gyro would be damned if he didn’t feel some sort of spark. He quickly took a sip from the coffee to distract himself from the feeling. “Thanks, Fenton. It’s perfect.”
“Of course! Anything less than perfect is unacceptable,” Fenton joked, sitting down at his desk a few feet away from Gyro.
“You push yourself too much, Fenton,” the chicken absentmindedly murmured, attention focused on the half-built gadget in his hands.
“I- what? Me? Pushing myself too much? I’m not the one who stays in the lab to finish projects til- god knows how late!”
“I don’t even think god knows how late I stay here,” Gyro laughed dryly. His laughter ceased when he locked eyes with Fenton, seeing only concern in his coworker’s gaze.
“What? It was just a joke! Don’t get yourself too worked up over it,” Gyro scoffed, turning back to his invention. He was so focused he didn’t hear the sound of Fenton’s chair being moved, nor his feet on the ground. He slightly jumped when he felt hands on his shoulders, gently massaging them.
“Take a break.”
Fenton’s words resonated within his mind. He thought for a moment before shrugging his shoulders, forcing Fenton to remove his hands.
“I’m fine...” he murmured. Fenton stood behind him for a moment, noticing Gyro curling in on himself. Fenton could tell that he was missing the contact, so he placed his hands on his shoulders yet again. There it goes again.
The spark.
Fenton gently massaged Gyro’s shoulders, the two sitting in comfortable silence. After a few minutes, the duck lightly pat his shoulders.
“Alright. Feel any better?”
“Mm... I guess I’m... a bit more relaxed,” Gyro reluctantly admitted. A smile grew on Fenton’s face, and he walked back to his desk content.
“Glad to hear.”