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Gyro’s intern was absolutely infuriating.
The way he talked. The way he was always too excited. The way he walked with a stupid little spring in his step. That one stray feather sticking up from his hair. All of it annoyed Gyro to no end.
So was the little way he would drum his fingers on the book he was scanning. Eyes drifting over the page, looking for something while the tips of his fingers kept up a rhythmic tune.
Soon to be followed by the duck, looking up, excitedly telling Gyro about something he’d found. Only for Gyro to wave him off, because even if what Fenton had found was interesting, the duck had no right to have this much energy ever.
But first there came that little tap-tap-tap-tap.
—
Gyro’s coworker was fondly excitable.
Gyro found that he liked the way the duck smiled when he’d found something, and the very precise way the duck walked. He liked the small bounce in his hair, and the way Gyro could tell he’d just showered by the shine in it. He liked Fenton’s soft laugh, almost like music itself.
Gyro also liked the way he would fidget with his tie when he was nervous, running his fingers over the very tip of the purple cloth when he was agitated. It was an easy tell, and Gyro had discovered it came in handy many times when he was trying to decipher how the duck was feeling.
“Hey, Dr. Gearloose?”
Gyro looked up from his desk, Fenton was standing on the other side of it, sliding the end of his tie through his fingers. “Dr. Intern?” He asked.
“There’s been a development with that newest project,” Fenton told him. His voice sounded cheerful, but the way he played with his tie said otherwise.
The inventor frowned. “What happened?”
Fenton winced. “It… exploded.”
Ah. So that’s what he was nervous about. Gyro’s reaction.
The chicken just sighed, walking around his desk to meet the duck on the other side. “Show me where it is, let’s see if we can get this cleaned up before Scrooge gets here at noon.”
—
Gyro’s friend was lovingly happy.
Gyro loved the way the duck would bounce on his toes if he were excited, occasionally squealing or flicking his hands. The way he would sometimes spin as he walked when he was excited, doing a 360º turn for no reason other than he was happy. All of it made Gyro smile.
There was also the way the duck would wiggle his toes if he had one knee crossed over the other, Gyro found Fenton did it no matter what.
Sitting on the couch in the Cabrera’s living room under the scrutinizing gaze of Fenton’s mother, Gyro found the little movement comforting. Something to look at instead of meeting Gloria’s eyes. Fenton sat across from him next to his M’ma, one knee over the other and trying desperately to break the ice.
“S-so, um.” Fenton started. His hands went to his tie. “M’ma prepared dinner, Gyro. It might be a little spicy, I’m not sure if you like that, we can see if we can take the spice out…”
“O-oh, no, I love spicy food.” Gyro said, thankful for a conversation starter. “Della often asks me how I even have taste buds anymore.”
Gloria’s eyes narrowed. “Maybe you’re not completely hopeless after all.”
—
Gyro’s boyfriend was adorably loving.
Gyro adored the way he would often come sit by him, standing from whatever he’d been doing to move closer to where Gyro was sitting. Not always to talk, just to be by each other. He adored the way the duck would ramble about whatever came to his mind, not always caring if Gyro was paying attention or not. And Gyro always did.
Another small thing Gyro loved about Fenton was the way the duck would press his forehead against Gyro every time they met up somewhere. Even just after crossing the room to grab something, Fenton would always tap his forehead against Gyro’s shoulder, back or chest in greeting.
“Took you long enough,” Gyro hissed in the darkness of the movie theater. “It’s just about to start!”
Fenton was crouched over so he wouldn’t obstruct the view of the other people in the theater. “Sorry, the line was long.” He said as he passed the popcorn to Gyro. He leaned forward and gently knocked his head against Gyro’s shoulder before sitting down.
Gyro smiled, taking his boyfriend’s hand. “Well, you’re in luck, it just started.”
Fenton grinned, gripping Gyro’s hand tightly in excitement.
—
Gyro’s boyfriend was softly kind.
Gyro cherished how patient the duck could be, whether it was with Gyro when he was grumpy in the mornings or helping Boyd out with homework. Fenton’s patience seemed to be as deep as the earth itself, when it came to waiting on other people. While the duck seemed like he would explode if he had to wait for his toast a minute longer than the usual time, he could sit kindly with a smile for at least twenty minutes while Gyro complained about his own toast being too burnt.
Something Gyro noticed the duck would do if his patience was growing thin- though this mostly happened with rude strangers or villains Gizmoduck fought- was stick his tongue between his teeth. Not quite out of his mouth, but just enough that it was noticeable. It often came with a little grimacing face as well.
Fenton sighed. “I’m sorry sir, but this place is for employees only.” The duck gave the old man a slight smile.
They were at an inventor’s convention hosted by Scrooge, using the front foyer of his mansion. Fenton was trying to stop an elderly goose from walking down the hallway.
The old man squinted. “Who are you to be the one in charge here?! The invitation specifically states-”
“-That you are only allowed within the designated areas.” Fenton told him. Though there was no indication in his voice that he was growing impatient, the way his tongue flicked between his teeth showed it. “I’m sorry, but you’ll just have to stay in here.” His tongue rested between his teeth again.
“Oh, and are you Scrooge McD-”
“Listen, old man.” Gyro snapped, intervening. “Cabrera here has done an excellent job at explaining all of this to you for the past five minutes, and it’s time for you to leave and leave him alone before I alert my boss of this.”
The goose scowled, before turning and walking back through the foyer.
Fenton let out a breath, booping his head against Gyro’s chest before leaning against him. “Thanks.”
Gyro put an arm around him. “Anytime.”
—
Fenton’s husband was gorgeously ingenious.
Fenton lived for the way the chicken’s eyes lit up when he had an idea, and the way he would immediately get to writing it down. The way he would solve problems as he talked, voicing his train of thought out loud and giving Fenton a peek into what kind of ideas were in that incredibly intelligent mind of his. The way he would casually state the answer to his predicament without realizing, before having to backtrack and see that he’d found the solution to the problem.
And always, every time he thought hard with a pencil in his hand, the inventor would tap the eraser against his teeth. Fenton soon came accustomed to the tapping noise, it was a sign of genius at work and it always made him smile. Something magical was happening.
And that afternoon Gyro certainly did look magical, sitting on the windowsill of the two’s shared home, a pad of paper in his hands and tapping his pencil against his teeth. The sun shone in through the window behind him, casting a gorgeous halo around his head. Fenton was stretched out on his stomach on the floor, gazing dreamily up at his husband. He could’ve stared at this work of art all day.
But Gyro caught sight of him. “What? Is my hair messed up? You’re making a weird face.”
That wasn’t enough to snap Fenton out of it, and he smiled. “Hmmm nothing. You’re handsome.”
Gyro rolled his eyes. “Compliment me later, when I have time to appreciate it. Right now I need to figure this out.” He looked back at his pad, tapping his pencil again.
Fenton just looked at him, his smile growing. “I love you.”
“Love you too. Now do you think it would work better if we moved this part of it over here-”