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"There's no right side to this." Fenton said, crossing his arms as he looked at Gyro, “You were spying on me, Doctor Gearloose.” His voice firm and Gyro held his ground. Staring down the other man and hoping he didn’t see his pain.
“I wouldn’t have to if you weren’t so blindly trustive of an actual FOWL agent.” He spat back. He told himself that spying on Fenton and Gandra was for the greater good. For the safety of McDuck Industries. For the safety of Project Gizmoduck. For Fenton’s safety. It had been an accident, at least, that's what Gyro kept telling himself. Falling in love with yet another unattainable person. Falling in love with Fenton was not part of his life plan. Yes, maybe, perhaps someone out there would be able to handle Gyro. Someone who would love him, his faults and all. It hadn’t been in the plan, but it was always a nice little thought in the back of his mind when he was truly lonely. Going back to his apartment with the only company being Lil’ Bulb. And now with Boyd. He would never admit it aloud to anyone, but Gyro longed to have someone to love. Longed to have someone love him. Faults and all. But, after all these years, Gyro knew it was just wishful thinking.
And then Fenton came into his life. Insufferable and bubbly and smart and kind. And before Gyro knew it, all moments of free time had his thoughts turning towards the younger man. How his beautiful brown eyes sparkled when he laughed. How his beak crinkled in at the end when he was trying to hold back a laugh. How he was so passionate about the work they did in the lab. And how his smile was the most infectious phenomena that he had ever experienced in his life. How selfless he was, taking up the suit and flying around Duckburg in true hero fashion. How he didn’t think Fenton was even capable of negative emotions .
And now said person hated him. Looking at him with a hardened expression that made Gyro's heart ache and clench in his chest. His breathing labored as he struggled to regain some ounce of control over the involuntary bundle of tissue and muscle that was now seeking revenge against their very being. Gyro never hated himself more than in this moment. This was just retribution from the universe for getting overly attached to one singular person that just so happened to be caught in his orbit.
“I’m not a child. I don’t need your approval. Who I spend time with is none of your business.” Fenton responded, his words icy and sharp as they pierced Gyro’s skin and left him feeling achy and betrayed. He had no right to let him feel this way about Fenton’s words. Fenton wasn’t his. As much as he desperately wished for the opposite.
“It’s not just that, Cabrerra.” Gyro replied, trying to make his heart ache less by distancing himself. Saying Cabrerra instead of Fenton, trying to repair their crumbling professional relationship with nothing but his own bare hands. But it was long past renovation, long past restoration. The only option now was to bring the rest of the crumbling infrastructure to the ground and sweep away the debris. And wonder how to start over. If that was even an option now.
“Well, I know it’s no sense of duty.” Fenton spat out, “You’re no saint either.” and Gyro struggled to swallow the lump that had formed in his throat, “You don’t get to lecture me about the choices I make or who I get to be friends with.” And of all the words that Fenton had said, that stuck harder to him. He called them friends. Him and Gandra were friends? That couldn’t have been right. But he would choose to evaluate that another time, and he struggled to not let himself bring it up in this conversation. He could examine it later, when it was just him in his own apartment. He could extrapolate and rip apart each word in the sentence. Break down the letters for any form of complete and comprehensible syntax. And hope he wouldn’t go insane in the process of it all.
“I’m just…” Gyro tried, trailing off as he struggled to find the right words. Why were things always more difficult when Fenton was in front of him? The younger man looked at him with raised eyebrows and titled head as he waited for some form of response. And what was Gyro supposed to do? Confess his jealousy and proclaim his infatuation with him? Admit that Fenton was one of the only people he truly cared about and tolerated? That just his presence makes the world seem brighter to him? And Fenton is still waiting and he needs to say something, anything. “I don’t want to see you get hurt.” And Gyro is taken aback by the sincerity of the words he says.
Fenton’s face softens and Gyro can’t help but let himself fall deeper in love with him as Fenton gazes at him. The hard edges are gone for now and the icicles embedded in his soul begin to melt away, and for the first time since this conversation began Gyro can finally breathe freely without the fear of punctured lungs and an erratic heartbeat.
“What…” Fenton trailed off, now it was his turn to be at a loss of words and Gyro couldn’t help but want to laugh at the irony if it didn’t mean that Fenton might become angrier. “What does that even mean?” And Gyro was silent. The words swimming in his head and for a moment he wasn’t even sure which language he was thinking in. Luckily for him, Fenton continued. “You say that as if you actually care about what happens to me.” His words were laced with an edge and a scoff. And the words struck Gyro like a venomous snake.
“Well maybe I do!” he shouted back, his eyes widening at what he had just said. Fenton was smart, too smart for his own good sometimes. And the way his eyes widened made it the fact he had set it all that more real. There was no backpedaling now, he had made his bed and now was the time to strip it and set it on fire. To finish burning any bridge that he may have constructed with the other man. “Maybe I do.” He whispered, quieter this time, hoping by some miracle a black hole would open beneath his feet and suck him into the dark abyss. “Maybe I do.” he repeated, racking his brain for any other words he could use than the three he kept echoing. His gaze drifting off to the side and he wondered if he could make some speedy escape up the elevator. Or barricade himself in his office.
“Gyro…” Fenton said, the sound of his own name snapping Gyro out of his escape plan and he looked back towards Fenton as he closed the distance between them. “What do you mean?” He asked, his voice pleading and oh, those memorizing brown eyes were shining again and Gyro wanted to keep those stars forever in his eyes.
Gyro leaned back, a hand coming to steady himself on the chair behind him, his legs giving out beneath him as he slumped down in the soft padded seat. Why did he say that ? What purpose did those words mean when he himself was in the process of trying not to fight with Fenton? Trying to not break down in front of the younger man. Trying not to let the walls he built around him crumble down. But that was all over now. Fenton approached him slowly, as if he was some wild injured animal that you didn’t want to scare and have run away. And was Gyro a fool if he let him? He sure felt like one.
So he responded the only way he could think of, “You’re smarter than that, Fenton.” His words were soft and his voice softer as he avoided making any kind of eye contact with him lest he fall under the waves of tranquility that he sought out when looking into his eyes. “I’m sure you can figure it out without my help.” His feet digging into the floor as he swiveled his chair around. He didn’t want to look at the expression of disgust that would cross Fenton’s face when he figured out what he meant. There was no ‘if he found out’, Fenton was smart and Gyro knew that the younger man would know exactly what he meant. And Fenton was worth so much more than what Gyro could ever afford. The knowledge that the man would most likely leave and never be seen again haunted Gyro more ferociously than anything else he had ever done in his past.
“Look at me, Gyro.” Fenton’s voice was calm and Gyro could feel his hand on the arm of his chair, desperately pulling it towards him so Gyro could face him once more. And Gyro hated it. “I don’t want to assume that I know what you mean. I need you to tell me.” and Gyro couldn’t help but look up at him and the sight made his breath catch in his throat. Tears threatened to fall down Fenton’s cheeks as he held the chair in place. His grip was tight and Gyro knew there was no hope for escape. “Please…” he added and Gyro could melt.
“I care about you, Fenton.” Gyro found himself saying, his mouth moving without his consent as the words made their home in the space between them. The air thick and heavy as the words registered in Fenton’s beautiful brain. “A lot.” Gyro couldn’t help but add in and Fenton’s head tilted to the side. “I…” he struggled to find the right words, “It’s just…” he took a deep steadying breath, “I care what happens to you. I like seeing you smile. I like the way your hair falls in your face. I like it when you remind me to take a break and get something to eat. I like you.” Gyro confessed, the freedom of the weight of his confession made him feel lighter. But the knowledge of what would happen next was a heavy weight in the pit of his stomach.
But it never came. And Fenton smiled and Gyro couldn’t help smiling too. It was infectious and not even Gyro Gearloose was immune to the act. “I like you, too, Gyro.” he confessed and Gyro was sure he was dreaming at this moment. There was no way that Fenton would ever ever return any form of the sentiments that Gyro held close to his chest. And Gyro couldn’t help it as he shook his head in disagreement and disbelief.
“You shouldn’t.” He replied, and the words were like a self inflicted wound and he could feel his heart constrict and seize in his chest.. A paper cut drowned in salt water that only served to elevate the pain tenfold. He wanted to look away. He wanted to be anywhere in the world instead of sitting in the lab while his crush no doubt poked fun at him. And Fenton’s hands were on his cheek, angling his face to look at him and Gyro hated how he couldn’t help but lean into the gentle touch.
“Gyro.” His name falling from the other man’s lips like sweet honey, a one-word plea for the older man to look at him. And Gyro did. Fenton smiled as their eyes met once more and for the first time since this conversation began Gyro didn’t feel anguished at himself for the simple act of caring for another person. “You don’t get a say in the matter.” He said, a fake edge to his voice as he smiled, his thumb idly brushing over the soft feathers of his cheek. And Fenton couldn’t help but let out a chuckle as he leaned closer to him, a silent request in his eyes.
“You’re my intern.” Gyro spoke, despite the closeness of their beaks and their breath mingled. How many times had Gyro even allowed himself to fantantasize what it would be like to kiss him? How many times had he awoken in the night dreaming about it?
“Not anymore.” Fenton responded, “Last I checked you promoted me to doctor.” and Gyro’s mind vaguely reminded him that he did do that.
“That’s not how doctortes work.” he couldn’t help but echo the words Fenton had said to him all those months ago on the streets of Tokoyolk. When his smile made his bones ache less and the feeling of being wrapped up into his arms made his heart flutter and his brain short circuit.
“You didn’t seem to care that day.” Fenton replied, his breath shuddering as Fenton inched closer, “So, why can’t we?” he asked and Gyro’s mind came up blank. “Why can’t we?” he echoed as their breath mingled. And Gyro failed to answer the question presented to him and instead leaned forward and allowed their beaks to connect in a simple sweet kiss. Gyro’s hands came up, wrapping around Fenton’s neck and pulling him closer. Fenton radiated heat and for once Gyro didn’t feel cold anymore.
And as quickly as it began, Fenton pulled away with a smile on his face and his eyes half lidded. “And I’ll remind you of it every time you forget.” he joked and Gyro couldn’t help but let out a snort as Fenton pulled him back in for another sweet kiss.