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sometimes, gyro comes back to their unassuming danville home much later due to the excessive schedule that is medical school. johnny does not appreciate this, but will spend as much time with gyro as he gets.
it was late. the kind of late where both of them should currently be resting. johnny was using gyro’s arm as a pillow, tracing random shapes into his bicept, talking about nothing in particular as gyro’s free hand rests on johnny’s back- talking about a lot of meaningless things, as they usually do and savoring their time together.
then, suddenly, almost like an afterthought,
“you know, one of these days we should order italian food for dinner.”
johnny pauses for a moment.
“why?”
gyro faintly shrugs, enough for johnny to feel it. “because there’s no real italian food here,” gyro explains, making a sour expression that johnny can just barely make out in the darkness of their bedroom.
“and i’m getting desperate.”
they move on to talk about other random things, such as the crazy folk gyro has to work with in medical school and the things he sees there every day. occasionally, he’ll earn a chuckle out of johnny. as the night grew quieter, their conversation they held (if you can even call it that) slowly drifts into silence. however, johnny’s mind still rests on their conversation they just had as he slowly sinks into gyro’s warmth, leaving his dilemma for morning johnny to take care of.
the next morning, gyro wakes johnny with a small peck to the forehead. “good morning,” he says.
johnny responds with a mumble, still halfway in his dreams. in his half sleep, he can feel gyro’s shoulders trembling as he attempts to hold back his laughter, not wanting to wake him. he takes this as his sign to start his day, getting dressed and saying goodbye to a sleeping johnny in the form of a kiss on the cheek.
johnny starts his day much later, the remnants from their conversation just hours ago taking over his thoughts as soon as he can think. as he readied himself for the day ahead of him, gyro’s words turned in his mind. it was such a casual comment, something so lighthearted and meant to be filler in their hazy conversation. something gyro hadn’t given a second thought. yet here johnny was, slowly making his way out of their bedroom with his cane, grabbing the keys and heading to the local farmer’s market.
shortly, he arrives back home with an abundance of ingredients. his trip took much longer than he anticipated, but in that moment, the time he spent there didn’t mean that much to him. gyro said he missed home.
for the next several hours until he was about to prepare the food, johnny found himself occupied with several tasks to make time fly by faster. straightening up their home, tending to their horses, and took care of a multitude of other things he had been putting off. not thinking much of it, he continued to fill his day with chores. he thought about how staying busy made the morning go by much faster.
before long, it was 5pm and he knew gyro would be home by 6. glancing toward the kitchen, he was reminded of the task that awaited him (like he hadn’t been thinking about this nearly the entire day)
by the time johnny decided it’d be a good idea to start dinner, the kitchen had been prepared with various ingredients sprawled out across the counter. seemed simple enough, right?
johnny begins boiling the tortellinis, cutting the tomatoes, pouring the bourbon-free sauce into a pan, adding in the mixture of herbs and diced veggies shortly after. you’d be wrong if you imagined this process went smoothly. when the sauce cooled down, he put the tip of his finger into the pan, getting the smallest dollop of sauce on his finger, bringing it to his lips to taste. didn’t feel right. added some honey. better. it felt right to him, but his opinion didn’t matter to him as much as someone else’s would.
waiting on the noodles to finish, he picks one of the tortellinis up with a wooden spoon and places it on a napkin. the noodle leaves a spot on the napkin, wet from the boiling water and steam coming from the noodle. blowing on it, he takes a bite to check if it’s ready- the noodle is not soft enough yet.
waiting a bit longer, he takes another bite out of one- “good”, he thinks to himself with a smile. it wasn’t perfect, but in all honesty, johnny was at a loss with what else he could add to this dish.
draining the noodles, he dumps them back into their original pot, pouring the bourbon-free kentucky style sweet sauce right on top of it, then mixing it. johnny then hears a familiar knock on the door.
the lock turns, then the sound of the doorknob follows, gyro letting himself in after a day full of being on his feet. dropping his bag near the door, “johnny?”
frowning slightly, he called johnny’s name with no response. he noticed the honeyed floating throughout the house, making it known that there was something being conjured up in the kitchen. it didn’t take him very long to lead himself to the sweetness.
entering the kitchen, he saw johnny standing at the counter with his back turned to him. he was holding himself on his cane, absorbed in stirring the pot of noodles, combining them with the syrupy sauce. the sink was filled to the brim with measuring cups, knives, and a cutting board amongst various other things. looks like he’d been at it for a while.
“what are you up to?”
johnny looks back, jumping slightly, then seeing him standing in the arch of the kitchen entryway.
“cooking.”
“cooking what?”
“dinner”
he smiles dimly, then turns his attention right back to the task at hand. gyro walks towards johnny, the click-clack of his shoes against the hardwood floor. snaking his hands around johnny’s waist with his chin resting on his shoulder.
“it smells great.”
johnny stays quiet, not wanting to give gyro absolutely any hint about the intentions behind his act of service.
“since when do you cook?”
he shoots gyro a mixed expression. he smiles thinly, causing gyro to raise an eyebrow but taking the hint to let go of the question. letting johnny know that he’ll be settling down the hall, he makes his way to their shared bedroom.
as gyro is dressing into something more comfortable, he can hear johnny shuffling around the kitchen. glasses clanking, shoes on the ground, tupperware and dishes being set. it makes him all the more curious what his dear boyfriend is up to.
after some time, johnny heads to their bedroom to find gyro sprawled out in their bed, brows furrowed as he’s deep in a book. johnny stares for a moment before gyro makes eye contact back.
walking up to gyro, he reaches out for his wrist and rests his hand there. “dinner is ready,” johnny says with quiet anticipation. gyro raises an eyebrow once again, wondering…
johnny’s hand didn’t leave his arm as they walk to the kitchen together, the smell of the food still hazily drifting throughout their home. they enter the kitchen, and resting on their small, 2 person table is a nicer-than-usual dinner. a clean tablecloth had been spread across the surface, plates set neatly across from each other. forks and knives were set right beside them, with 2 wine glasses full of sanpellegirno resting on the table.
in the center of the table sat a small plate of grated mozzarella and parsley, lit by the warm glow of the kitchen. the food was still warm, steam visibly coming from the noodles, but not so much that you’d assume it’s still boiling hot.
gyro observed all of this at the table for a moment, then glanced to johnny, as he still held gyro’s arm.
“is this what you’ve spent the last however many hours doing?”
“i made dinner.”
gyro nearly howls with hearty, affectionate laughter.
“i can see that!”
johnny’s mouth twitched to a small smile.
it wasn’t anything particularly fancy, nothing you’d see at a restaurant. just two plates, two glasses, and a meal johnny spent much longer making than he’d like to admit.
they sit down together, eyeing the food and gyro picks up a fork, pausing momentarily before asking,
“is there any particular reason you did this?”
johnny makes eye contact, then subtly looks away from him,
“you said you missed home..”
gyro gives him a big toothy smile, chuckling quite loudly, ready to have a bite. he takes his fork and picks up a noodle that’s covered in a reddish sauce. gyro takes a bite, and as he does so, johnny is frantically studying his face for any sign of his opinion towards his labor of love.
johnny interrupts the momentary silence that fills the room, asking, “is it bad?”
gyro doesn’t say anything for a moment, gyro exclaims, “i never said that.”
he brings another noodle to his lips, chewing on it, johnny not really knowing what he thinks.
“it’s not italian.”
johnny frowns, seemingly confirming his assumptions. however…
“but i like it.”
those words alone tame the thoughts running wild in johnny’s head. they continue the rest of their dinner together, gyro going on his usual rant about school and the people in it. johnny doesn’t say much, but will contribute with the occasional nod and hum to remind gyro he’s still listening.
“you know, i’ve never had something like this in naples..”
“well, you’re not in naples, are you?” johnny says with a sharp attitude and gyro nearly snorts at his remark.
“i’m not,”
“but i don’t think i mind kentucky.”
johnny doesn’t realize it, but a smile creeps on his face. afterwards, gyro collects the dishes to go put them in the sink. he leaves to go to the bathroom nearby, and johnny takes this as the opportunity to begin the grueling task that is washing those dishes. after a few minutes, gyro leaves the restroom, and is standing in the entryway once again, quietly observing him as he works on the stack of various dishes in the sink. he notices johnny wobbling slightly, trying to balance washing and staying above counter level.
“johnny?”
“yes?”
“did you want some help?”
johnny doesn’t say anything, but gyro knows him.
he approaches him, resting his arm around johnny just enough that he isn’t struggling anymore. they stay that way for quite some time. after a few more minutes, johnny closes the dishwasher, the task at hand complete.
“johnny?” gyro says, confidently but almost softly simultaneously
“what now?”
with his arm still resting on johnny’s back, he pulls him into a full hug, one of his hands resting on johnny’s head, tangled in his sunlit blond hair beneath the golden kitchen light.
“thank you,” he says, wholeheartedly.
johnny asks, “you liked it?”
gyro thinks for a moment,
“it’s not italian, but i’d ask you to make it again.”
gyro feels johnny trying to suppress his laughter, but his shoulders shaking slightly gave him away. gyro lifts his face from the crook of johnny’s neck to his forehead, giving him a kiss. he leaves himself like that for a moment, his lips lingering on johnny’s skin, then pulling away. they stay like that for a little bit longer, johnny melting into gyro’s affection like butter.
not long after, they walk to their bedroom together, delving back into the routine of their silly but special conversations. the night grows quiet once again, their voices dwindling into mumbles as their eyes grow heavier with each word.