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It takes a while for Johnny to convince himself that, no, he doesn’t look stupid in his new swimsuit. The shorts are a pale blue, but is that genuinely what concerns him? He looks at himself from head to toe in the giant wall mirror that hangs in his bedroom. Maybe for the fifth time, but surely no one is counting. He still has muscle (thank god), and his hair looks presentable.
Why is he worrying about his hair when it’s going to get wet anyway? Will anyone even notice it in the first place?
He runs a hand through it and scratches his scalp. Probably not. No ones cared in a long time.
Whatever. It’s not like he’s going to the pool to impress anyone. It’s all to get a head start on his sessions. Starting water therapy at the clinic tomorrow? More like today. So, really this is more a business trip than anything else.
The fact that the pool is right downstairs from his apartment makes it all more convenient.
He locks his wheelchair into place, then unlocks it. To make sure it’s still working and all. It clicks fine. Backpack? Check . Keys? Check .
Reaching down he locks his wheelchair one more time...
Okay, okay. He’s stalled enough.
The elevator ride down to the lobby of his apartment feels like the longest it’s ever been. He twiddles his thumbs in silence as he waits. He’s not nervous or anything. Just been a while since he’s been in the water. Johnny’s more of a land kind of guy.
With the doors finally opened, he rolls his way through the lobby. He tries his best to avoid eye contact with the receptionist. Well, to be fair, she never says anything to him anyway. He could probably lug a dead body past her and she wouldn’t blink. Good news for Johnny. Not about the body thing but about the talking thing, for clarification sake.
Eventually he disappears into the back corridor that leads to the outside pool area. He takes a peek through the small panes on the double doors. It’s sunny out, blinding even. Good thing he just about slathered himself in sun-tan lotion. He doesn’t tan, he absolutely burns.
The doors open to reveal a lot less than what Johnny is expecting. That being, people. No families are running amok. Instead there’s just a lifeguard sitting on a high seat. And, boy, does he look absolutely bewildered. Johnny’s mood immediately goes down. Can’t even escape weird stares in his own home.
The guy’s face is that of a youth bordering on stern adult. But there’s something goofy about him. He wears a white v-neck shirt over red shorts; it’s too much clothing to be prepared for jumping into the water. Kind of odd.
But besides that, there isn’t another soul in the pool area this early in the morning.
Johnny is thankful he woke up ahead of time for this. The less people, the better. He turns to further scope out the place.
It’s nothing like he’s ever seen before. Johnny’s been to many fanciful jockey country clubs in the past but they certainly don’t measure up. It’s almost like they stole a real resort off the coast and stuck it near a luxury apartment.
Even when he was famous Johnny did attend expensive gatherings, but this felt different somehow. More open, maybe? Less stuffy?
Tall palm trees are scattered about, rays of sunlight peeking through their fronds making the heat more tolerable. The atmosphere is something akin to the coast of some fancy beach, though the smell of heavy chlorine pervades the air.
The pool itself is intimidatingly big. Intimidating, yet a crystal blue so clean you can’t help but want to dip your feet in. It’s quite a spectacle. Johnny’s not sure if enough people even live here to fill the place.
Suddenly, the lifeguard he sized up earlier is waving at him off to the side.
“Hey, you! Can you swim?” the man calls out to him from his lofty chair, interrupting Johnny’s musings.
He has an accent that is ever-present but besides that Johnny can tell the guy speaks perfect English. He can’t quite place where it’s from though, something European probably. He isn’t all that cultured.
Johnny squints, glaring over his shoulder, “Are you asking that because I’m paraplegic?”
The man looks irritated at the question, he raises a brow, “No. Your arms still work, clearly. I’m asking because I’m not in the mood to babysit. I got something I need to read.”
Babysit? Is that how he sees his job? Why’d he take it anyway if he didn’t intend to, you know, watch people. Besides, Johnny isn’t a fucking child. The comment puts a sour taste in his mouth.
It’s way too early for this.
Johnny clenches his fist on the arm of his wheelchair, “You’re not babysitting me. Do I look like a kid to you? Are you blind? Screw off back to Europe if that’s how you feel.”
His own hands immediately go over his mouth in an attempt to rectify what he just said. So much for trying to have a filter as his new year’s resolution. It was going so well before.
He flinches as the guy starts walking toward him. Well, he wasn’t expecting to get beat up today but so be it. The lifeguard is taller, more built than Johnny and could easily overpower him. Not to mention he’s got a literal leg up in their situation. This is the exact way he got into this chair in the first place, by running his mouth too much. He grits his teeth in preparation for an ass-kicking.
But it doesn’t come. Because the guy stills right at the foot of his chair to grin at him. Something flashes into Johnny’s eyes. Ostentatious grills adorn the other’s teeth, golden ones at that. Weird.
Johnny speaks up, “If...if you’re gonna slap me or something best do it now than later.”
“Hm?” the lifeguard bends down, hands on his hips, “I wasn’t going to slap you. Anything rude you have to say to me has already been said by my father.” he laughs a bit at that, “You haven’t answered my question though, you just avoiding it?”
Oh. Johnny looks away. “I can swim...sort of.”
“Sort of?”
“Sort of... ” he repeats.
“So, you don’t know how, I take it. Why not have someone teach you? Better yet have a friend help you. I’m not exactly here to run a class.”
“Had no one to come with.” Johnny whispers to himself with his shoulders slouched.
The man sighs down at him, “Then it’s not a good idea for you to—"
“I don’t care.”
The look on the guy’s face is priceless, “You came here not knowing how to swim at all on your own and genuinely thought it was a good plan?”
“Yeah.” Johnny rolls next to the pools edge—dangerously close; close enough to make anyone uncomfortable.
There’s a tug on Johnny’s chair and he falters, glancing behind him. The lifeguard has his grip on the back of his chair, effectively pulling him away from the edge of the pool. “Whoa, whoa ...can’t let you do that.”
Then suddenly, Johnny is being wheeled to the doors that lead back into his complex. Wait, seriously ? He went through the trouble of coming all the way down here, there was no way in hell this guy was going to ruin his day.
Johnny thrashes his upper body violently, “H-hey?! What the fuck. Why are you kicking me out? Is it cause I’m in a wheelcha—?!”
He’s interrupted by an abrupt stop. Johnny looks down to see that they’re next to the four foot end of the pool now. “You were about to jump into the deep end, stupid. I’m not letting some beginner pull that kind of stunt...” Johnny gets flicked on the side of his head lightly, “...But I have no problem letting you get in from here. What I actually have an issue with is when people decide to drown themselves, if you’d believe.”
Was that supposed to be funny? Johnny doesn’t laugh.
The grip on his chair is gone and Johnny can see the guy walking backwards to his post, shouting to him, “I’ll be over here. Scream if you need anything!”
Johnny squints in an attempt to see the name on the lifeguard’s ID that hangs precariously on his lanyard.
Gyro Zeppeli .
Nice. Now he knows who to report to the front desk. The crime? Being an unfunny asshole.
Whatever. Johnny isn’t going to let Gyro wreck his day, or his plans for that matter. He’ll do anything for a chance to get back any sort of mobility. If getting a head start on water therapy ends up helping him it’ll be worth it in the end. Albeit, his physical therapist told him he needs family supervision if he wants to swim outside of the clinic for the time being, but Johnny frankly doesn’t give a shit.
He’s sure Gyro will come and grab him if anything does happen anyway.
With the finesse that he’s built up over the past year, he locks his chair next to the edge and pushes himself out of it. The water hits his body and he sinks in. Well, as much as he can sink in four feet of water. Good thing he’s small to begin with otherwise he would have hit his head somewhere. He grabs the edge and stays still for a minute to get used to the cold.
Johnny, for once, feels ‘normal’. Like, if anyone saw him in the water they could never tell his legs were fucked. They wouldn’t know about his weird schedule habits he has to have, or that he had to move all the way out here at a chance to function . All of the annoying, embarrassing stuff that made Johnny stop going out alone.
He tilts his head back to where Gyro is sitting. He’s entranced by some textbook that Johnny can’t quite make out, not paying attention to the outside world. He could totally dunk himself right now and Gyro wouldn’t even notice. What a shitty lifeguard.
As if Gyro could feel Johnny’s malice-filled stare, he peers up from the book and waves like a child in the other’s direction. Johnny grimaces and turns away.
Eh, maybe if he ignores him he won’t come talk to him again.
Johnny looks out to the other side of the pool. He wants to swim over to the deep end. That’s the goal he set for himself before coming. But from here it feels like miles away. Though he won’t admit, he’s too wary to let go of the edge despite being in the shallow side. He’s never been a good swimmer even when he had feeling in his legs. He’s not sure how he can tread water, if at all, with just his upper body.
Probably should have waited to practice more in therapy, but nothing ventured nothing gained, right?
With much trepidation, he begins pulling himself along the edge going further toward the deep end. If he looks down he can see his legs disappearing more and more as the water takes up space below. Johnny gulps.
This...this isn’t so bad though! He’s made it pretty far already, what’s a little more? He continues on and before he knows it, he’s hanging near the seven-foot mark.
He doesn’t dare look down anymore. Practically no one can stand up straight in this deep of water. Johnny feels kind of badass being this far.
Maybe he’ll test his arm strength out. He’s feeling pretty good about everything right now so it’ll be fine. Surely. He takes away one of his hands off the edge and strokes the water experimentally with his arm. The water follows his muscle calmly as he moves it back and forth. Hm. Yeah, easy enough.
What’s one more arm in the water going to do to? He’ll make it quick and grab back onto the ledge if he can’t tread himself afloat.
With much trepidation he lets go of the edge.
And immediately starts to sink.
He’s not sure what he was expecting.
Johnny’s arms beat against the water in a poor attempt to grab back onto the concrete.
But his hand slips.
Fuck.
“Are you crazy?!? You’re crazy…”
Johnny’s eyes blink open. The first thing he feels is his heart trying to hammer it’s way out of his chest. The second is the insatiable burning in his throat. The third is the hard concrete he lies on. Great.
He swallows, surprisingly dry.
Gyro is hovering over him, but Johnny can’t quite make out the look on his face. He’s more of a silhouette than anything. The world is blurry and his brain doesn’t care for piecing together the mosaic.
Johnny weakly groans.
Suddenly, there’s two warm fingers pressing under his jaw, and then Gyro speaks clearly to him, “Hey. What is your name?”
“Did I drown?” he musters the response.
Gyro’s face comes more into focus. He’s looking down at Johnny with worry, “Yes. Answer my question first. What is your name?” he reiterates.
“Johnny Joestar…”
“And what day is it?”
Cough, “The same day I tried to swim but drowned instead.”
He can feel the roll of Gyro’s eyes, “Seriously, what day is it?”
“Thursday. Shit...”
The fingers leave his ice-cold throat. Johnny winces at the loss of warmth, even if just a little. Gyro pulls away from him entirely, standing up and leaving. Johnny is left to watch. He’s not even in the mood to crawl to his chair. He’d be totally fine if he was to lie there all day like an awkward starfish, in all it’s insecurities.
Best thing about the situation is that he isn’t dead.
Kind of wishes he was though.
He sees Gyro coming back with two towels in his hand, it also looks like he hastily put on sandals. Johnny feels safer as his vision returns, thank god. Gyro supports him into a reluctant sitting position and drapes a towel over his shoulders.
Did this asshole really just save his life...
Johnny huddles into the towel to keep it close. He feels absolutely shitty, like someone shoved two tubes up his nose and pumped it with nasty chlorine. Disgusting. He shivers, “H-hey. Shouldn’t we call an ambulance or—”
“No need, you’ll be fine. You passed out from shock not from excessive water intake.” Gyro nonchalantly answers as he wrings out the bottom of the v-neck he still wears.
“Pft.” Johnny is floored at the quick response, “What are you? A doctor?”
“Yes. Well, med student. But I think I’m qualified enough to say that the only illness you have right now is a lack of self-control.”
Oh, okay. The insult backfires, he’s actually a doctor...in training. It really isn’t Johnny’s day. Good to know Gyro is one-upping him in the whole ‘life’ department.
Johnny’s wheelchair is back to his side, courtesy of Gyro. He crawls back on to it, something akin to a baby deer walking for the first time. Except, with his arms. He manages, though, and Gyro walks behind him to grip his chair.
“Look, I need to fill out a report now because of this. I’m gonna bring you back to your apartment before you have the chance to complain about me. You seem alright enough to let loose anyway. And don’t worry—what just happened—I promise it’ll be our secret.” he mockingly leans down in a hushed tone.
With newfound vigor Johnny swats Gyro’s hands away like before, “No. You helped me enough. I don’t need you to take care of me. I’m fine.”
Johnny rubs at his irritated eyes. They sting. He wants to lie down in his bed.
“You want me to let you go up on your own? What if you faint again on the way there?”
“If I pass out it’s no big deal.”
The idea of someone pushing him around like some kind of hospital patient pisses him off a bit. In fact, when he had been admitted to a clinic for his injury he snapped at any nurse who even got near him. He’s got arms, and they work just fine...
But to no prevail, Gyro forcibly grabs his chair again (muttering about how Johnny is ‘insane’ ) and pushes onward. Johnny groans and lets him because at this point he’s too weak to argue with someone. All his energy is focused on how congested he is.
Johnny hears Gyro lock the doors leading to the pool area. Probably so no one can get in while the lifeguard is gone. Not that it matters though, for some reason no one ever uses the complex’s pool anyway.
They continue on. The coolness of the lobby makes Johnny shudder slightly. Passing the reception desk, the lady behind the counter waves at Gyro with a starstruck kind of smile and Gyro returns the greeting wholeheartedly. Johnny’s eyes narrow at her. She usually ignores him when he comes through here, is Gyro better than him or something?
It...couldn’t be because of the way he is, right? No. That would be really screwed up if that were the case. Johnny shrinks into the towel wrapped around his shoulders. Maybe he should try saying ‘hello’ next time he comes home.
“Hey. Johnny?”
Johnny’s head perks up at the mention of his name. He glances around. The elevator. Gyro and him were in the elevator.
Gyro begins to poke at his cheek incessantly, “I need your floor number.”
It shakes Johnny out of his drifting thoughts. Right, floor number. Gyro is taking him back up to his room. “Fifth floor.” he points to the button, too tired to reach over himself.
Good thing Gyro is there, he presses it for him then comes to stand at Johnny’s side. It’s awkward at first and Johnny chances a glimpse. Gyro turns to look down at him and smiles a cocky grin, patting his shoulder. Johnny recoils and turns away.
“Sooooo...” Gyro coughs into his fist, “I have a strange question, but let me ask it.”
Johnny tries to act like he’s disinterested, but he answers, “It’s fine. What is it?”
Gyro gently shakes Johnny’s shoulder, “Do you go to the gym a lot?” Gyro pulls away and scratches the back of his neck, “Sorry. I just couldn’t stop thinking about it; you’re really fit. It must be because you’re always using your arms, right?”
The observation piques Johnny’s curiosity. Something warm rises in his chest, something he can’t quite pinpoint. He rubs at his eyes again, chuckling, “Uh. Yeah, actually. I have to work my arms a lot because I do almost everything on my own. It’s why I have a manual wheelchair. If I had another I’d get lazy and never workout again. It’s just a preference though. I don’t look down upon people who choose the other way.”
Gyro beams at him, “That’s admirable.”
“T-thanks?”
The elevator halts with a ding and Gyro scurries behind Johnny to walk them both out into the enormous decorated hall.
It’s littered with expensive golden framework on paintings, vases galore with a reflective marble flooring so clean you could probably eat off it. A large chandelier hangs to light the way. It’s delicate and crystallized, fixed to the high white ceiling. A true page straight out of a Forbes lifestyle section.
But this is Johnny’s reality. His family (well, brother, bless him) is helping him pay for his lodging next to the physical therapy center. Everything he needs is here, conveniently for him.
And yet he still manages to be depressed about it all. Go figure.
He hears Gyro whistle behind him, “And I thought downstairs was nice—you’re living the good life, huh?”
“I guess.” Johnny shrugs in an apathetic manner.
“I feel kind of bad, we’re both still a little wet. Like dogs, bau bau.” Gyro mentions as he begins to push.
Johnny quirks an eyebrow at the noise. Is that the sound dogs make in Europe? Gyro is a weird one.
There’s a tap on Johnny’s shoulder. “Room number?”
He peers up behind to see the other. Gyro is attentively staring at him with this sort of look . Johnny clears his throat, “1510. Last one at the end of the hall.”
With an awkward twist of his body, Johnny starts to rummage through his backpack that hangs off the side of his chair. Keys, keys, keys…
Ah, there.
They rattle as he spins the metal ring around his finger. A bad minuscule habit he has with them. He likes to fidget things with his hands a lot, recently. It helps keep his mind off things.
But the way Gyro is briskly strolling them down the hall throws his routine key-spinning for a loop. It’s hard to keep it going around his finger since Gyro is pushing him at like mach speed. They make it to his number in no time.
And though Johnny won’t say it aloud, it’s kind of fun having someone lug him around like this. Gyro could probably push him real fast and he could pop the nastiest wheelie.
Huh. When’s the last time he’s had a thought like that one?
“Here you go, sir. That’ll be five dollars, plus a tip.” Gyro holds out his hand in front of Johnny facetiously.
Johnny slaps his palm in a low-five kind of manner, “That’s your payment. Don’t spend it all in one place.”
Gyro laughs and lowers his hand, “Hm, you’re no fun.”
“You’re probably right.”
He puts his key into the lock and twists it open, letting himself into his apartment.
But before he has a chance to shut the door behind, Gyro is calling out to him, “And Johnny...”
He turns to look back. Gyro’s arms are crossed and he looks rather stern standing in the hallway. His tone of voice is laced with intensity, “Don’t try to swim alone again. Get someone to help you first.”
Johnny slams the door shut and cracks a grin.
As if he’ll listen to that advice.
The feeling of almost passing onto heaven isn’t something people usually crave. Anyone who has drowned usually avoids the water soon after.
Anyone who isn’t Johnny.
Because not even a few days after, he finds himself back at the pool. Despite the ‘incident’ that he went through, he still wants to work on rehabilitation outside of therapy. Besides, him almost dying happens to be one of the most exciting things he’s experienced in like the past few months.
However, the day after he made an utter fool of himself, he refused to even look in the direction of the pool. Like always though, he grew impatient. The minute he becomes complacent in sitting at home doing nothing is the minute he loses.
He attended his therapy sessions like normal, and though he doesn’t want to admit, they help a lot in his whole swimming endeavor. He went from baby fawn to a sort-of-competent child in the water. A true accomplishment.
So, this time for sure he’s going to show up that weird lifeguard. Johnny Joestar is too bull-headed to let an opportunity like that go.
Today the pool area is just as quiet as ever. No one in sight except for the person on duty, who isn’t the familiar face Johnny saw a week before. He frowns.
Instead, a lady sits where Gyro once was. Her hair is pink-bobbed and she appears to be positively bored though she types on a phone in her hand.
“Hey.” Johnny calls out, “Is Gyro not here today?”
“Hm...Gyro. You mean the tall blond guy?” she sets the phone down and purses her lips in thought, “I think he only works on Thursdays. Sorry, kid.”
Disappointment sits in Johnny’s stomach.
Why?
He shakes his head, knuckles clenched. No, it’s a fake feeling. He doesn’t even know the dude well enough to be truly disappointed. It could be a lot of things. Like how Johnny forgot to thank him for saving his life. Guilt, maybe?
But the one thing he can’t deny is how shamelessly interested he is in him.
He wants to know things about him. Like, what his favorite food is. Or what his favorite film could possibly be. Stupid meaningless things that Johnny never wants to hear about anyone. An exclusiveness Johnny has never had about anything. And it’s selfish; he knows it’s selfish but he can’t care enough to stop thinking this way.
Because meeting someone who makes him regain his ability to have even an ounce of positive emotion is something he has never encountered.
Johnny stares at the pool’s edge inanely.
“You okay?” the lady with the pink hair speaks up.
He flinches. Looks like blanking out is becoming a daily thing for him. With a quick nod of his head he turns to roll his chair back toward the entrance, “Y-yeah. See ya.”
Thursdays.
The week couldn’t have passed quick enough. Johnny continued to go to therapy and everyday seemed harder than the last.
It’s turned into a sort of pride thing at this point though. Not only is it for his legs, but it’s also to show off how great he’s gotten at swimming. Lately, he’s been hyper-obsessed with the idea of proving himself in the water with Gyro as his audience.
He purposely shows up on Thursday. Like the pink-haired lady said, the person Johnny is looking for is working today. Now's the time to put all that practice to the test.
Gyro is reading a textbook while sitting again. Johnny’s hand stills on the handle to the pool area as he peers through the glass on the doors. There’s a look of intense focus on Gyro’s face, and upon further inspection Johnny sees him taking quick notes on a journal by his side.
He almost doesn’t want to bother him.
Almost.
He’s waited nearly an entire week for this, he’s not stalling now.
The door swings open and Johnny pushes himself through with his head held high.
Gyro’s gaze rises at the sound and he does a double take.
Johnny can see the smugness permeating the other’s haughty expression. Still the same jerk from before, as far as he can tell. Pride swells in Johnny when he realizes that the other remembers him from the week before.
Yet, before he can even open his mouth, Gyro greets him first, “Hey there, Johnny! Didn’t I tell you not to come back alone? You got a lot of nerve for someone who almost died the other day.”
Rolling further into the room, Johnny frowns, “Wow, that’s harsh.”
“Take it as a compliment. I think it adds character.” he closes the textbook on his lap and sets it aside, “Anyway, did you come back to give it another try?”
Peering down at the pool, Johnny curtly nods at his own reflection, “Yeah, I don’t have any intentions of giving up. Nothing will get in the way of me being able to walk again.”
There’s a sudden upward quirk of Gyro’s lips. “Hm, troublemaker.”
The comment is filled with a foreign fondness that Johnny can’t recognize. Something inside his chest flutters for a brief moment.
Gyro throws his typical white shirt off and starts to walk down the steps into the water without a word. He lays in the pool, backstroking further in the water with too much ease. It makes Johnny only a little jealous. Then he notices Gyro is holding his arms out toward him as he stops to stand, “Well, are you coming?” he hollers.
Johnny’s eyes dart back and forth, as if to ask if Gyro is actually referring to him. But just like before, no one else is in the giant resort area. Empty, except the two.
He wheels himself close to the edge in his chair, confused.
“What do you mean?”
Gyro scoffs while tilting his head up.
“H.P.—sorry, the other lifeguard—told me you were looking for me the other day. If you had just asked nicely I would’ve caved and taught you how to swim. She said you were terrified looking at the water.”
Terrified? More like deep in thought. He’s already experienced the worst pain you could go through, an outdoor pool doesn’t phase him anymore. But he keeps that to himself.
“So...you’re gonna teach me how to swim…?”
“If I don’t, you’ll just keep throwing yourself in.”
Johnny scowls. Partly because Gyro is probably right about that.
Also, this is supposed to be the time when he shows Gyro up with how much he’s been practicing. There’s something in Johnny that tells him that the other won’t let him in the pool alone again though.
“Fine. Teach me how to swim, Gyro. Only you hold the secret to helping me walk again.” Johnny snarks with much attitude.
Gyro perks up, smiling with grabby hands, “Really?!”
Ah, so good at speaking English but not so good at picking up sarcasm.
Whatever. This just means he’s getting free ‘assisted’ therapy outside of actual therapy. Nothing bad about it. Johnny locks his wheelchair at the pool’s edge, much like before. Except this time there’s someone waiting for him where he’s going. It makes him comforted in a way he rarely is.
“Really. ” Johnny decides is the best thing to say as he pushes his body toward Gyro’s reach.
The water hits him and the sensation of being liberated from his chair is the only thing on his mind. Well, that and grabbing onto the edge for dear life before he sinks to the bottom. Good thing he didn’t throw himself into the deep end like last time.
“Johnny.” Gyro swims over to him, offering Johnny his back, “You can hold on to me if you want.”
“...Okay.”
He carefully lets go of the pool’s edge to latch onto the back of Gyro’s shoulders, in a piggyback sort of manner.
The contact is warm and inviting. Much different than when he’s at the clinic. He’s usually made to hold bars in a sort of special pool while people watch and encourage him. He doesn’t want to be treated as a lab rat. Swimming this way feels more like fun than work, in a sense.
In fact, it could be considered somewhat of a date.
Johnny gulps.
What a stupid thought.
“You alright back there?” Gyro asks, walking the two of them deeper toward the middle of the water.
“Yeah. Keep going.”
The back of Gyro’s neck is visible since some of his hair is parted to the front from being damp. And it’s right next to Johnny’s face when he’s holding onto him like this. Johnny can’t help but stare.
Not to mention the feel of Gyro’s shoulders under his hands. Touching them like this, the realization of how much bigger Gyro is than him comes to mind. Johnny knew he was built by looking at him but the way his own hands can’t encompass the broadness is frustrating.
Aren’t these thoughts a little too intimate for the two of them being almost strangers? Sure, Johnny used to have flings with girls upon meeting them, but he never bothered to even learn their names. This is clearly different compared to those nights. This feels more private in a way. Johnny gets the chills, and it’s not because of the water.
Abruptly, Gyro stops pulling him along and turns to face the other, making sure to let Johnny keep his hands on his shoulders. Johnny’s heart stutters in his chest as he dares to look down at the water. They’re still halfway in the shallow end; Gyro’s feet touch the floor but Johnny’s don’t.
For once he curses his jockey height.
Shakily, he releases a breath, but as he straightens up there’s a mischievous smile that greets him.
“Have you ever floated before?”
“Floated?”
“Like on your back. Have you?”
Johnny fingers dig deeper into Gyro’s shoulders, “No…”
“You don’t want to?” Gyro jeers.
It’s a taunt aimed as a question toward Johnny, and he grimaces. It’s not like floating on his back will help him with his legs. Definitely just Gyro messing with him. He probably wants to make a joke out of it.
But Johnny never backs down from a challenge.
“I want to.” he reluctantly replies.
His response brightens Gyro’s expression, “Good! This is your first lesson—listen up cause I won’t say it again...” he clears his throat, “...The key to floating is to relax your muscles.”
This statement makes Johnny peek back down at the murky silhouette of his own submerged legs. He glances back up at Gyro (who is still grinning like mad) then back at the water.
“I can’t move fifty-percent of my muscles anyway so why does that matter. I literally can’t get anymore relaxed than this.”
The smile disappears from Gyro’s face, “I-I meant the muscles that work. Relax those.”
Johnny squints. He doesn’t trust Gyro as far as he can throw him, “If I don’t use my arms I’ll drown.”
“That’s why I’m here. I’ll hold your back.” Gyro waves one hand in an attempt at some reassurance.
“If you let go I’ll kill you.”
“I won’t.”
And with that, Gyro gently guides Johnny to face away from him, making sure to support him by holding beneath his armpits. His fingers fold around the front of his chest. It feels funny. Johnny’s mind blanks for a second. W-wait he needs that—his mind. Without it he’ll flail his arms and probably be really desperate in front of Gyro. Again.
He already saved him once, he doesn’t need to be in a whole ass life debt with the guy.
Gyro situates himself behind the other, near enough to be questionable. Not that Johnny really minds at this point. It’s the only thing keeping him up after all. But then Gyro’s fingers start to press deeper into his ribs and he’s leaning down, whispering against Johnny’s ear, “Sink back into me and I’ll catch you, like a trust fall.”
Johnny freezes. Whoa. He was joking about the date thing but this is seriously borderline criminal on Gyro’s part. Is the gesture meant to be taken that way or is it just a normal European thing?
He decides to go with the second option. For the sake of sanity.
Taking a deep breath, Johnny tries to calm his rattling nerves. Which aren’t being helped with Gyro basically spooning up against him. Then he lets his shoulders fall back into the water slowly and—as promised—Gyro’s hands are there to gently support him.
And finally, Johnny begins to lay on top of the water. He peeks up at Gyro who stares back (upside down from Johnny’s view) at him with a gentle look. It’s like he weighs nothing and the feeling is hard to place. He can see his legs floating atop the water as well, though the sensation is a dull cold. His voice is soft with disbelief as he floats above Gyro’s arms, “Oh.” is all he says.
“Oh.” Gyro parrots back at him.
For a moment they stare at each other. Johnny thought relaxing to be impossible for him unless he’s focused on something.
So right now, that something is Gyro’s face.
Up to this point he never took the time to see, but Gyro is really good looking. Enough to be able to get around a lot, he thinks. His jaw is stronger compared to Johnnys, and his eyes are kind but intense. So intense that it makes Johnny question whether they’ve been staring at each other for way too long to be considered strangers anymore.
It’s a paradoxical calm, riddled with tension. Something Johnny’s anxious state of mind can’t wrap around. Serenity ? That’s not it...
The ghosting of fingertips tickle his back. Goosebumps decide to raise on Johnny’s arms.
His stare moves to Gyro’s lips. They’re slightly parted and soft looking not to mention damn close and it’s getting under Johnny’s skin like an itch he can’t scratch and—
He loses focus.
His arms involuntarily start to grasp at nothing. The water splashes against his grip, as his heart pounds hard. But right before he manages to make a fool of himself Gyro is there to hold him upright. Just as he promised.
He’s being turned around in the water, face to face with the other again, and Johnny scrambles to grab back onto Gyro’s shoulders before he has the chance to sink. Gyro arrogantly tsks, but even Johnny can tell there’s a hint of playfulness to it, “I thought I told you to relax.”
Johnny tries to catch his breath, long enough to at least rebuttal, “I was relaxed.”
“Did something distract you?”
Yeah. You, Johnny blithely thinks. God forbid he ever say that out loud though.
Instead, Johnny hums as an affirmation, choosing to leave it at that. He takes this as a win since his nose still isn’t filled with chlorine.
One new thing he notices is that Gyro’s hands are suddenly on his waist under the water, steadying him upright. How long have they been down there? Johnny’s losing the entire concept of time.
It’s easy to forget when Gyro’s hands wrap around him so nicely.
Wow, so this is what people mean by being touch-starved, huh?
“Hey, uh.” Gyro’s worried voice sounds far away, yet they’re pressed right up against each other, “Are you okay?”
“Hm?” Johnny slurs.
“You look like you’re about to faint.”
The hands on Johnny’s waist grow tighter and he lets the breath he was holding in go. He sure feels like he’s going to faint. It's beginning to become a running theme every time he comes out here.
His eyes glaze over, “M’fine.”
“Yeah, that look you’re giving me right now says the exact opposite. Are you dehydrated? Need water or something?”
Johnny thinks for a minute, “I—yes. Water. I’m thirsty.”
In more ways than one but that’s neither here nor there.
Gyro pouts, “Ah, we can get out I guess and I’ll grab something from the vending machine. Don’t want you passing out on me every time I see you. You know, this wasn’t much of a lesson.” he pauses to smirk at Johnny, “I guess you’ll just have to come back and see me if you want to be a pro at swimming!”
Johnny’s heart flits in his chest.
He already had plans to come back.
Johnny buys a calendar for the first time. Not that he needs one. In fact, it’s hung over his bed for completely petty purposes. No one has to know about it though. He figures having a visual representation of his week will give him something to look forward to. Better than sulking around his apartment like he usually does. With a red tipped sharpie the days are marked by what times he goes to therapy. Everything red except for Thursday.
That day is reserved for green. Green, like the color of Gyro’s eyes.
It’s cheesy but, to reiterate, no one has to fucking know about it.
Johnny would rather drown all over again than be found out.
He stares at the calendar that hangs over his bed with a shaky smile. As he lays there for the night Johnny’s thoughts begin to wander. Things along the vein of insecurity linger in the back of his mind. Like, are Gyro and him considered friends now? Would it be weird to ask for his number so they could text? It doesn’t have to be anything romantic, just to talk. It’s been so long since Johnny had a real friend, not counting his brother…
It’s pathetic of him.
Most people his age would be out at a nightclub right now, dancing, mingling...
Getting laid.
He frowns and looks down at his crotch. It’s been a whole year since he’s had sex with someone. The thought of even trying to be intimate after the shooting is scary. There’s too much to explain, what with the loss of some sensation and everything.
He puts his hand down his sweatpants and grabs his cock. Well, doctors told him it could have been worse. But Johnny is greedy. He wants it all back and they can hook him up to machines, put implants in him, whatever the fuck they want to do as long as it meant he could be loved again.
His grip loosens on himself.
If he gets his legs working again, will people take him back with open arms? Will he be fawned over like before? Will he finally make his father proud?
What could possibly be left to salvage when he’s already lost it all…
Johnny takes his hand out of his pants and curls into a ball. He reaches out to dig his nails into the silk sheets. There’s no point in having a giant bed if it’s only for himself.
He shuts his eyes in a poor attempt at sleep.
Next time he sees Gyro he’s definitely asking him for his number.
“Back for another lesson, I see!”
Thursday rolls around again. Johnny’s new favorite day of the week. His own personal time away from his bedroom or a boring therapy center, out into the sunlight by the pool.
But he’s on a mission to conquer something different from the water today.
Johnny bites the inside of his cheek.
Gyro’s usual happy-go-lucky demeanor falls at the sight of Johnny lowering his head, “Is something wrong? You look upset.”
“Uh, no I’m not. Just—um…” Johnny stutters picking at the arm of his chair, “I have a weird question to ask.”
Gyro leans in attentively, “Hm? Sure, what is it? Only fair since I asked about your workout routine the other week.”
The inside of Johnny’s cheek is probably bleeding by now. He feels like a total weirdo. This is the first time he’s had to ask someone something like this because usually people flocked to him whether he wanted them to or not. Things used to be so easy.
He stops his chewing and picking to steel himself. “Well…” he starts, avoiding all eye contact necessary, “I wanted to get your number. For me! I won’t give it to anyone else. So, we can talk and stuff. Or—or like if you can’t come into work it’s a way to let me know. Uh, and I can update you on my progress with therapy! I mean only if you were curious but let’s be honest who's curious about that… ” he pauses, “Oh my god, actually never mind don’t listen to me. I take it back, this sounded way better in my head jesus christ ...”
Johnny rakes his hands down his face. He can feel the scorching heat of his blood rushing to his cheeks. He used to be the pinnacle of suave, what the fuck is he doing?!
He peaks through the fingers that cover his vision. Gyro is still standing in the same place as before, but he’s smiling real wide. Laughing, maybe? Johnny wouldn’t blame him for that.
But instead Gyro walks closer and pats his head gently.
“This is the most I’ve heard you speak, Johnny. It’s very cute—your voice, I mean. Give me your phone I’ll put my number in for you. I’d love to hear about your therapy.”
Johnny’s jaw clenches. Cute. Gyro called him cute. Well, his voice. Still counts though. No one's ever said anything good about him with that much sincerity. He’s so exhilarated he wishes he could run around like an idiot to get the energy out.
Ah, his phone. Johnny grabs his bag. He tries to shake off his nerves and searches through it, maybe a bit too eagerly.
“Here.” he shoves the phone into Gyro’s hand, as nonchalantly as possible.
“I need your password.” Gyro turns the screen to face Johnny, showing off the digital keyboard.
“Oh, it’s ‘Slow Dancer’.”
Gyro goes to type into the phone, “‘Slow Dancer’? That a song?”
“Yeah. It’s what I named my horse after.”
Johnny can tell this piques Gyro’s interest because he stops typing to look at him with wide eyes. “You like horses?”
The way Gyro brightens up at the mention makes Johnny’s heart skip beats, “Yeah. Used to be one of the most decorated jockeys my age, actually. Once I start walking again I plan on becoming a coach. My brother owns a bunch of equestrian venues, so I’m kind of set.”
“We have a lot in common, Johnny. I have some horses back home in Italy. I wish I had pictures to show you.”
“You’re from Italy?”
Gyro tentatively hands back Johnny his phone, “Yes. Was that not obvious?”
I mean. It probably should have been but the only thing Johnny knows about Italy is that spaghetti was born there. And also Gyro, apparently.
“It was, just checking.” Johnny looks to the side, “Anyway. You can speak Italian right? That’s cool. I’ve always wanted to learn another language. How do you say ‘fuck’? Or ‘shit’?”
This completely confirms that Johnny is a born and raised American. It earns a sigh from Gyro, but he caves anyway, “Perché mi fai queste domande?”
“You sound weird. Hm—oh, I got another. Aren’t you guys great at making noodles? What’s your favorite Italian pasta to make?”
“Non lo so. Fondamentalmente non mi piace cucinare, diciamo…takeout.”
“I know that last word.”
“I know you do, that’s why I said it.” Gyro frowns, “I don’t like speaking in a language that you can’t understand. I like it better when you know what I’m saying.”
Johnny grins, “Then you should teach me sometime.”
“That...yes. I would love to teach you, Johnny.”
The way Gyro looks at him suddenly changes. It feels doting in a sense, but the way his eyes bore into Johnny’s unabashedly tell a different story. His lips are parted. Absolutely captivated by something.
It’s too much. Johnny turns away, reaching up to touch the side of his mouth. Does he have leftover ketchup sauce on his face from the hamburger he ate earlier?! He thought he wiped it all off. What gives…
He starts to fidget with his own hands at the silence that begins to linger between them. “Uh. Should we get in?” he asks.
Gyro shakes himself out of his strange trance-like state. He coughs into his fist, “Y-yeah. After you.”
Johnny starts to roll himself toward the pool. He’s not sure if Gyro is really easy or hard to read.
Probably an Italian thing.
Johnny holds his phone like it’s a relic to be cherished. As soon as he got home he took precaution and wrote Gyro’s phone number down on a piece of sticky note next to his bedside. In case someone hacks into his cell and deletes the precious sequence of numbers.
And, no, it’s not weird. It’s called being ready for anything.
Johnny is literally foaming at the mouth as he lays in bed. Would it come off as too desperate to text him this quickly?! He’s never texted anyone first before in his life. What the hell is the protocol for this kind of stuff? People used to text him, not the other way around.
He huffs into his pillow.
Ugh, he should be embarrassed about being this excited over something so lame.
But the mere idea of talking to Gyro whenever he wants is too good to be true. He wonders what he’s doing right now. Probably studying at home since every time Johnny sees him he’s got his face in a book. Becoming a doctor must be a lot of work.
Studying at home. Where does Gyro live anyway?
Erm. No, too creepy. Johnny is many horrible things but a stalker isn’t one of them. He restrains himself from looking up Gyro online. He’s got to keep some level of respect at least.
Johnny frowns at his phone. Maybe he shouldn’t bother him. It’s kind of getting late anyway. Gyro might not even be awake. Worse, he could accidentally wake him up with his message.
The light of the screen is blinding as he holds it inches from his face, a stark contrast to the darkness of nighttime. The white glow mocks him.
God, it’s too tempting.
He opens up a new message thread and starts to type.
‘Hey, Gyro! It’s me, Johnny!!! :)’
Johnny squints at the message for a good five minutes. The hey comes off as very familiar. And maybe the smiley face is a little cheesy. Also the exclamation points, there’s too many of those. He doesn’t want to seem super excited. He needs to dial it down a bit. He taps on the backspace button.
‘Hello, Gyro. It is Johnny.’
Oh my god, who does he think he is?! Fucking RoboCop?!?
He deletes that message quicker than the last. Make it seem natural, that’s all he has to do. He shouldn’t be having such a hard time with something so simple.
And yet...
‘Hi, Gyro. It’s Johnny.’
Perfect.
His finger hovers over the send button. He inhales. If Gyro doesn’t respond he’ll go to sleep. It’s no big deal. There’s nothing to be afraid of. God, his hands are sweaty.
He presses the button and throws the phone face down next to him. Johnny buries his face into his hands. There are butterflies in his stomach. He feels silly having these kind of teenage emotions.
Not even a minute later his phone vibrates. He flinches. He genuinely wasn’t expecting that. It made him happy to just send the message, let alone get a reply.
Johnny tentatively reaches over, fingers trembling as he flips over the phone. He unlocks it and views the message.
‘omg hi johnny!!!!!!!! why aren’t u sleeping? i wasn’t expecting u to txt me tonite. what r u doing right now? and did u remember to eat when u got home? tell me all about it :D’
It’s longer than he was anticipating. Johnny throws his phone back onto the bed and rolls around a bit in excitement. Wow, Gyro actually replied, he’s way too nice to him.
'I’m not tired. Just lying in bed right now. I made chicken and potatoes for dinner. What are you doing?’
Johnny reads over his message. He sounds like the most boring person on Earth. But it’s the truth, isn’t it? Maybe he should lie…
He shakes his head. No. No way is he going to lie to Gyro.
While cringing, he hits the button to send it off to it’s doom. He hopes he’s not coming off as a buzz-kill.
Gyro replies back before Johnny has the time to blink. He’s a real quick typer huh.
‘U can cook? Im jealous my cooking is gross lol. one day i would love to taste ur food! <3 im studying right now but its something i already have memorized. its nice to take a break and talk with u!!!’
‘My cooking is okay. What exactly are you studying all the time?’
‘med stuff! but i dont think you would be interested. i try not to talk about it too much so i dont make people fall asleep. which you should be doing right now >:(’
Psh. Johnny’s seen the first episode of Grey’s Anatomy. It wasn’t the worst thing he’s watched. He shrugs and starts typing again.
‘No, it’s fine. I think medical study is one of the most interesting things in the world.’
He purses his lips. It’s not completely untrue. He’ll just leave out the fact that he hates hospitals. And health class. And anything that has to do with medical study.
Uh, actually, Gyro just so happens to be the only doctor he hasn’t wanted to fist fight.
His phone vibrates again instantaneously and he opens the message.
‘really!? johnny u surprise me everyday!! wanna go over the advanced cardiac life support algorithm with me? :D’
Johnny’s weary eyes blink at the screen. Advanced...what? He’s going to have to google that one.
Maybe he’ll stick to telling the truth from here on out.
If someone told Johnny he could ever be happy again after getting the news that he wouldn’t be able to walk without intense yearly therapy, he’d punch them in the face for lying.
But now his reality is that. Happy. So much so that when he wakes up he does it with exuberance. It’s weird, really, how human contact can make someone crave the world more. He should’ve ventured outside sooner.
Johnny looks himself up and down in his bedroom mirror. For once, he looks...pretty good. Would calling himself handsome be pushing it? He leans in and squints, looking every inch of his face over. Yeah, his skin has definitely been clearing up recently. There’s a certain glow to it now. He even got his haircut the other day and managed to say more than three words to his usual stylist (who seemed utterly shocked that Johnny had something to talk about).
He straightens up proudly at his reflection. Yeah! He’s handsome! Maybe life isn’t so bad after all.
The phone in his lap suddenly vibrates, startling him. Flipping it over, he finds a pleasant surprise. A new message appears on his phone from Gyro.
‘johnny!!!! where r u? come down im bored :(‘
Well, no more ogling at himself. Somebody is waiting on him for once.
He texts Gyro on the way down to the pool. Not that he was planning to but Gyro doesn’t stop sending him messages asking him how much longer he’d be.
‘where r u now????’
‘Elevator.’
‘ok. and now??’
‘Lobby.’
‘now?’
‘Right in front of you.’
At this Gyro looks up from his phone, “Hi, Johnny!”
“Hi, Gyro.”
Johnny’s heart pounds against his chest. Gyro is cute, smiling at him all wide like a kid. A great start to his day.
Gyro leaps from his seat energetically and opens his mouth to speak before randomly closing it. He pauses to stare at Johnny, then gasps lightly, “Did you get a haircut?” he asks, reaching down to touch a strand.
The complexion of Johnny’s face goes red as Gyro’s fingers run through his hair. “Oh, uh, yeah. I asked to get it cut shorter than usual. I was a little afraid that it wouldn’t look good so—”
Gyro interrupts him. “I like it. A lot. I can see more of your face this way.” he tucks some hair behind Johnny’s ear.
Ah. It’s a reminder of how much he hates the look of his ears. It’s a preference of his to hide them. He looks away out of insecurity and moves Gyro’s hand to pull his hair to the front again. “Thanks…” he says with a level of discomfort.
Oh, good. He made it awkward.
But if Gyro feels the same, he doesn’t show it. He just continues to gaze down at Johnny with an almost overbearing amount of affection.
He hopes Gyro didn’t get a good view of the sourness on his face. Today is supposed to be a good day, not one where he’s eaten alive by the evil voice that lives inside his head. No, he’s got to put in some effort to make it good again. He shakes off the negative thoughts.
Johnny decides to shift the conversation away from himself, “Do you wanna swim today?” he suggests.
“Whatever you wanna do!” Gyro responds, pulling his shirt over his head and tossing it onto the chair.
Shirtless Gyro is definitely a start to making everything good again, Johnny thinks.
They get into the water like they always do, with Gyro holding his arms out and Johnny pushing himself in. His body shivers as it gets accustomed to the chill of the pool. Good thing the sun blares down on them otherwise it would have been an uncomfortable cold.
Gyro latches onto Johnny as soon as the opportunity presents itself. He isn’t expecting it as Gyro grabs Johnny's arms and pulls them to clasp around the back of his neck. They’re flush against each other this way. It’s a little suggestive. Then Gyro starts to spin them both around in the water, his hands holding Johnny’s waist securely. It’s takes effort for Johnny not to get completely dizzy.
What they’re doing right now is more like dancing than swimming. It still makes Johnny giddy though as Gyro twirls him around. Gyro’s smile shines as he slows them both down to a complete stop. Johnny inwardly thanks him, up till now he didn’t realize the minimum effort it takes the other to swing him around like he weighs nothing. And he makes it look easy even with the added force of the water.
While steadying his head to fix his lightheadedness, Johnny stares at the cheerful expression on Gyro’s face. “Someone’s in a good mood.” he points out.
“I’m always in a good mood when I’m with you.” Gyro replies.
The tickle of his hands on Johnny’s waist only emphasize the point. Johnny silently agrees; he’s also happy when he’s around Gyro. He’s glad the feeling is mutual.
Before he has the chance to reply, Gyro speaks again. “You know, Johnny. I’ve been thinking...” he reaches up and moves a stray damp hair out of Johnny’s face, “...About why I like you so much.”
Johnny clears his throat. If he wasn’t paying attention before he certainly is now. He listens carefully.
Gyro continues, “I’ve figured it out. It’s your drive. You’re so stubborn that not even almost dying could keep you away from here. Yeah, that’s what I like the most about you. When you set your sights on something you want, you do everything in your power to get it. I understand now—that’s what draws me in.”
It’s an insult wrapped neatly with a compliment . Johnny isn’t sure if he should be offended or not.
“That’s a good thing to you?” he asks indecisively.
Hm. He didn’t even think of himself as that stubborn.
“It is.” Gyro laughs, “This whole time I’ve taught you lessons about the water but, Johnny, you’ve been teaching me the thing I needed to learn most.”
“And that is?”
The atmosphere turns as Gyro’s hands stop ghosting over his waist but instead press deeply. There’s a powerful haze that covers Gyro’s eyes, the natural green swallowed by black. It’s unsettling. His voice is dripped in conviction, “Sometimes I need to be selfish for the things that I want.”
As they stare each other down the only sound that Johnny registers is the brief lapping of the water. It’s deafening compared to the silence between them. He notices he’s been holding his breath. He exhales.
“Gyro, is there something specific you’re talking about?”
Johnny decides to take the shot and if he fails, well, he’ll just pretend like today never even happened.
The harshness on Gyro’s face lessens. He stops digging into Johnny’s sides and instead starts to rub light circles with his thumbs to ease the ache. Any tension around the two disappears. It feels peaceful again.
“I’ll show you tomorrow.” Gyro replies.
With a tilt of his head, Johnny quirks an eyebrow, “Tomorrow? Don’t you have class?”
“I do. Well, did. I’m skipping for the first time in my life.”
Johnny knows Gyro well enough by now to confirm that, no, he isn’t the type to play hooky. Ever. In fact, he’s made it a point to be extremely dedicated to his studies. Johnny looks at him like he’s crazy.
“Why though—”
“That’s where the selfish part comes in, Johnny. Were you not paying attention? I’m skipping so I can take you somewhere tomorrow. Cancel any plans you have.”
It clicks in Johnny’s head. Gyro wants to spend more time with him. Tomorrow. Together.
His heart swells with excitement.
He struggles to get the words out, “...Okay. I’ll cancel them.”
Like he had any to begin with.
Eventually the two exit the pool. It feels like they were in there longer than usual, Johnny can even see the sun dimming as the air burns less. His fingers are all pruny too. Ew. He can’t wait to take a hot bath in his apartment.
And yet, that would mean leaving Gyro too soon.
Johnny sits with a towel draped over his lap in his chair, watching Gyro dry his hair off haphazardly. He already has his shirt back on much to Johnny’s distaste. What’s a guy gotta do to get him to keep it off…
The lifeguard with the pink-hair Johnny saw weeks ago abruptly walks through the lobby doors to the outside. It makes Johnny flinch. She starts talking before she has the chance to look up, “Gyro, I—sorry. Am I interrupting or...?”
He waves his hand reassuringly, “No, no. You’re fine. Need something?”
She sneaks a glance at Johnny and presses her lips into a thin line. It makes him feel rather out of place and obvious.
Gyro speaks up with conviction, “Don’t worry, anything you say in front of me you can say in front of Johnny.”
“But it’s about—”
“Seriously.”
There’s a heavy sigh that comes from her, completely exasperated, “It’s official; they’re giving us two weeks.”
“Oh.” Gyro’s cheerful attitude falters, the first time Johnny’s ever seen him truly annoyed, “Why’d you have to tell me that in front of him?!”
She rolls her eyes, arms crossing, “You said it was fine.”
“Yeah, well... shut up! Leave us alone.”
H.P. tsks and waves a hand as she turns to go. Her grip stills on the door to what Johnny supposes is the locker room for the lifeguards. “Two weeks, dude. Better start packing.” she calls back as the door clicks behind her.
The once friendly atmosphere shifts as the two are left alone again. Gyro’s running a hand through own his hair and Johnny’s not sure if he should even comment on his change of mood. Seeing him not happy-go-lucky makes Johnny uneasy.
Johnny peers up at Gyro, treading carefully, “You okay?”
As if he forgot Johnny’s presence even existed Gyro turns to him stiffly. He rubs the back of his neck. “Yes. Sorry, Johnny. I should’ve told you but the pool isn’t going to be open for a while.”
Silence falls between them. Johnny swallows the lump settling in his throat. He forces himself to speak.
“Why?”
“Same reason why no one comes to swim here anymore. A water resort opened not even ten minutes away a month ago. That’s why I was surprised when you showed up that first day. I bet you didn’t notice since you probably don’t get out too much.” Gyro playfully pinches Johnny’s arm, “I mean, look. You’re so pale.”
That lightens the mood but Johnny still politely shoos him away. It, however, doesn’t stop the aching reality that pangs at the back of his head.
“They’re laying all the lifeguards off then.” he whispers as a matter of fact.
Gyro frowns, “Correct. For the time being at least.”
“You won’t be working here anymore?”
“...Correct.”
Johnny’s shoulders drop involuntarily and he lowers his head in a sluggish manner. His lower lip quivers. The only thing he looks forward to every week is leaving. Leaving like everything else has in his life. What a fucking time to be a little bitch and cry about it. He couldn’t have waited till he was back at his apartment?!
But he’s always been an in-the-moment type of person, he can’t help it.
He feels like his brain is overreacting. It’s not like Gyro is dying or anything. Yet the thought of coming down and not seeing his smiling face every week is enough to make Johnny feel rejected. He barely gets to see him as is, what with his class work and all. Thursday is supposed to be their day.
“Oh, Johnny. Don’t make that face.” Gyro squats to be on his eye level, taking both their hands together to rest upon Johnny’s lap, “What’s wrong?”
While sniffling, Johnny can already feel his eyes beginning to wet. He doesn’t want to look Gyro in the face like this. “I’m upset.” he mutters.
Gyro starts to rub circles into Johnny’s thigh with his thumb. Though he can’t feel it very well per say, he sees the gesture. What did he do to deserve this kind of attention? He wipes at his eyes.
“Are you upset because I’m leaving?”
Johnny weakly nods.
The rubbing stops and Gyro pats his thigh lightly, “I’m sorry. I should have never made such empty promises to you. I didn’t know you wanted me to teach you that badly—”
“No.”
Gyro looks taken aback, “No?”
The hands in Johnny’s lap get swatted away and Gyro stands up straight in response to the suddenness.
“No!” Johnny raises his voice, “That’s not why. At all! It was never about me learning how to swim. I thought it was at the beginning but I was lying to myself. You were right. I am selfish. I haven’t even known you for that long and I thought—I thought...”
“J-Johnny, calm down.”
Mmmnhn.
Johnny covers his mouth in a poor attempt to stop the word vomit that flows from him. It doesn’t help the gross sobs that unintentionally rack through his body. Disgusting. He wants to disappear.
Wow, turns out crying in public fucking sucks. Who would’ve thought?
He’s probably coming off as the most needy person on Earth right now. It’s cringy and he actually feels bad for someone else for a change. That someone being Gyro who awkwardly stands in front of him.
Gyro turns toward the locker room, the same place the other lifeguard disappeared to. “Wait here. I’m grabbing my stuff. We’ll go up to your apartment and talk there, okay?”
Johnny blinks at him through wet eyes, “But what about your shift—”
“Fuck my shift.”
With that, Gyro starts jogging away. He doesn’t give Johnny enough time to think as he comes running back with a satchel-like bag around his shoulder in the blink of an eye.
The thought of the elevator ride makes Johnny sick.
They go up together in silence and Johnny is pretty sure the receptionist saw his tear-stained face. So much for saying hello to her because now he doesn’t even want to look her in the face after that.
Both of them are uncharacteristically quiet until they make it into Johnny’s apartment.
He wishes he cleaned beforehand as he leads Gyro into his bedroom. There are some clothes strewn about on his floor, and he mentally smacks himself when he notices he left Gyro’s number on the bedside. There are little green hearts on the sticky note. His eye twitches. Whatever. It all doesn’t matter anymore. He hoists himself onto his mattress dejectedly.
Gyro opens the satchel he brought and pulls a travel-sized package of Kleenex from it. He sits next to Johnny on the bed and hands it to him.
Johnny murmurs a thanks and opens it to wipe his eyes. Gyro is good at making him feel cared for. He’s got this magic touch to make every situation seemingly less shitty. Johnny sniffles, rubbing at his nose slightly.
There’s a certain gleam to Gyro’s expression that is the complete antithesis to how miserable Johnny is. “Hey, I have a joke to tell you. Listen up.” he says, suddenly energetic again.
It doesn’t help the sadness on Johnny’s face, but he plays along, “Go ahead.”
“What did the doctor say to the cute patient whose legs don’t work?”
Johnny looks at his own legs that hang off the bed, then back up at Gyro “...What?”
“I have a ‘crutch’ on you.”
The stiff grip Johnny has on his sheets loosens, “Gyro. That,” he tries to suppress the wobbly grin on his face, “was funny. You have a real shot at being a comedian with that kind of material. I think the audience for it is too niche though.”
“If it was that good I just might have to drop out and follow my real passion. I can see it now...” Gyro trails off and looks longingly off into the distance.
Goofy. It serves to make Johnny more nauseatingly infatuated with him.
“So, are you really leaving in two weeks?”
Gyro sighs, his face turning serious, “Where else would I go, Johnny? Do you want me to sit by the pool without getting paid?”
“Yes.”
“No.”
Johnny leans in, “Yes. ”
Gyro mimics him, “Noooo…”
They stay like that, faces nearly touching. Both at a standstill.
“Johnny can I kiss you?”
And for some silly reason, Johnny isn’t surprised at the question. At all. Not with the way Gyro is looking at him. There’s no mistaking it for something else. He can hear his own pulse pang in his ear. Like a ticking time bomb ready to burst.
Tick.
Tick.
“Yeah.”
They lean into each other at the same time and Johnny feels the brush of Gyro’s hand on top of his, with the utmost of care.
Gyro’s lips are soft, warm, inviting. But most importantly, gentle. As if pressing any harder will scare Johnny off. Which it won’t, but the gesture is wholly appreciated.
Because of this reluctance the kiss is rather chaste, but Johnny finds it oddly fitting. So unlike any other make-out, tongue in cheek, no name-basis, kiss he’s ever had. Yet, better than them by a million miles. It makes his hand tremble under Gyro’s. It makes his heart beat like mad. It makes him want another.
Johnny’s sure his face is beet red as they pull away. They rest their foreheads against each other, and Gyro reaches up to tuck a strand of Johnny’s hair behind his ear. Johnny lets him this time.
Gyro is staring at him with an overwhelming amount of fondness. So much, that it makes Johnny unsure of what to do next.
Then he hears Gyro hum as he leads them both down onto the mattress. They lay across from one another, eye to eye and Gyro smiles, “You’re cute.”
Johnny’s head sinks lower into his pillow. His eyes are dry now, but they’re still tinged a puffy-red. Embarrassing. “I’ll miss you.”
“I’ll miss you too.” Gyro, laces their fingers together lazily.
“I don’t want you to go.” Johnny whispers.
“I know.”
“I can hire you as my private swimming coach. I’ll pay you twice as much as whatever this place is paying you.”
It sounds desperate, but at this point Johnny isn’t self-conscious about making such an offer.
Gyro nearly chokes. He sits up straight and glares down at Johnny with disbelief. “I—I, uh. As...tempting as that sounds.” he pauses, shaking his head, “No. I can’t accept that from you. We won’t even have a pool to practice in since it’s closing anyway.”
“We’ll just use my bathtub.”
“Johnny.”
“Yeah?”
“Do I look like a prostitute to you?”
“Well…”
“Shut up.” Gyro growls.
Laughter bubbles from Johnny’s throat, catching him off guard. He looks away in a clumsy attempt to push it down from where it came.
At this, Gyro forcibly rolls him over making Johnny’s back face him. He goes to lay behind the other, pulling him close against his chest. It’s a subtle reminder of how much smaller Johnny is as his waist is held. His heart speeds up.
There’s a soft touch of warm lips to the nape of his neck. “I like your laugh.” Gyro mutters against him.
Johnny’s not sure how to respond. He almost wants to start crying again. Not from being upset. He’s just never felt this important before. This entire past year he thought people didn’t want to hear him laugh, speak even. The sincerity in Gyro’s voice when he says nice things about him breaks down walls he didn’t even know he held up.
Gyro kisses the back of his neck again, though this time he lingers more. The hand around Johnny’s midriff goes to caress up and down his arm. Something warm begins to pool in the center of his stomach.
“I like everything about you, Johnny.”
The kissing on his neck becomes more rushed and Johnny’s vision grows hazy along with it. Recently, it’s become a sensitive spot and to have someone giving attention to it is strange. Strange but oh so good .
He really can’t take it anymore.
Johnny turns to face Gyro so they can kiss each other proper. It’s unlike their first one. This is steeped in desire. What’s been held down by Johnny for the past year. He’s missed this. Missed the feeling of someone’s tongue in his mouth, someone running their hand up and down his body.
It’s so much more different, so much more meaningful and personal to him than anything else he’s had. For once it’s not a race to the finish line, the thoughtlessness and shallow movements he’s accustomed to disappear. Instead he appreciates the way his heart races and the way his skin burns as Gyro holds his face close.
They pull apart after what had to be a full minute. Gyro’s thumb traces the bottom of Johnny’s lip, “I want to make you feel good. Tell me how.” he asks softly.
At this point Gyro could do anything to Johnny and he’d be ecstatic. And, to be perfectly frank, he hasn’t really had the means to experiment with anyone. He thinks for a second.
“I’m okay with anything, but I’d like you to use me.”
Johnny bites his tongue. He didn’t mean for it to come off that loose. But there isn’t any way he could have worded it better.
Gyro’s face is full of surprise and he takes Johnny’s hand into his timidly, “Are you—you sure that’s what you want?” he brings it to his lips and presses against it.
Is that what he wants? Yeah, definitely. There’s no doubt in his mind. He’s been thinking about Gyro manhandling him for like the past month. Gyro’s given him more than he could have asked for. Above all else, he wants to be useful to him at least once.
Didn’t think he’d get this far though, so when Gyro’s face turns shocked at the mention of his desire he isn’t sure how to react. Johnny should’ve known better; Gyro is way too nice for that kind of request.
He tries to backtrack, “I mean, only if you want to. If you don’t we can do something else—”
“I want to.” Gyro answers a little too quickly, and Johnny’s eyes grow wide at the enthusiasm.
Gyro abruptly sits up and pats Johnny’s side, “On your stomach.”
The sudden lack of vocabulary that leaves Gyro makes Johnny breathe heavier. It’s so unlike the typical goofiness he’s used to. It only serves to turn him on even more.
Johnny goes to lay on his tummy and the bed shifts beneath him as Gyro moves behind. He’s not sure if he should turn his head to see what the other is doing. Maybe he’ll let it be a surprise.
Then, without much warning, Gyro puts his body weight over Johnny, caging him with warmth. He rests his arms on either side of the other taking care not to crush him completely. Gyro leans down to the side of Johnny’s face and runs his tongue along his ear, “This okay?” he asks in a low voice.
Shivers run up Johnny’s arms. The sensation of Gyro licking him there is too nice, makes him tingly. He hums as an affirmation.
Gyro smiles against him, and bites his ear gently before pulling away completely. He feels large hands runs against his back. They go lower and lower until...until Johnny is only able to make out the dull heat of their presence. He pouts and looks over his shoulder at Gyro who straddles the back of his thighs.
His hands are stilled at the top of Johnny’s shorts.
“Can I…?”
“Yeah.”
Gyro pulls them down over his legs and Johnny is left utterly naked. He kind of is being cheated right now, he thinks. What, with Gyro still having his t-shirt and shorts on from the pool. It’s not fair if he’s the only one stripped down.
Johnny keeps looking over his shoulder as Gyro digs his fingers into his backside. If only he could feel it more...
Does it make him a bad lay if he doesn’t react? Or does it not count for his case? Erm, whatever. At least the visual is good.
Speaking of, Gyro eventually stops messing with Johnny’s ass and throws his shirt across the room. Johnny leers at his body. Nice.
Actually, it’s made even better now that Gyro is taking off his shorts too. Ugh, very nice. Johnny feels blessed at the mere sight of his dick. It’s thick and, not to mention, he’s uncut which throws Johnny off for a brief second. Doesn’t make a difference over him wanting it in his mouth though. Maybe before Gyro leaves he’ll let Johnny suck him off. He’s probably getting ahead of himself.
Gyro interrupts Johnny’s inner musings as he lays back onto him, his cock pressing right in between his ass. The view takes him by surprise, “Uh, Gyro. Don’t put it in, we shouldn’t—”
“Hm?” Gyro reaches a hand around to hold Johnny’s chin, tilting his head forward and exposing his throat, “Wasn’t going to.”
Johnny swallows. It’s jarring the way Gyro’s usual tender hands dig into his jaw. He’s never had anyone treat him this way in bed before, but it’s exactly what he needs. The roughness of it makes him warm all over. He had no idea Gyro could be this mean.
Then Gyro squishes both sides of Johnny’s face between his hand, “Your face is so adorable, you’re like a tiny bear cub.”
Okay, never mind he’s still a little ditzy. Even with his dick grinding against Johnny’s ass.
Johnny groans. “Gyro...” the complaint comes out of him, muffled by the hand that squeezes his cheeks.
“Aha, sorry.”
Gyro stops playing with Johnny’s face to focus on thrusting himself against Johnny’s ass instead. There’s a heat that envelops the two as Gyro pants against Johnny’s ear. He takes it into his mouth occasionally to stroke his tongue over it. The wet noise is absolutely filthy.
Johnny doesn’t have to see his own dick to know that it’s hard. He can feel the leaking wetness of it on his navel underneath as it rubs against the mattress. He had no idea dry fucking with someone could even be this satisfying.
It’s just a bonus that he’s doing it with the hot Italian guy he’s been thirsting over for god knows how long.
The way Gyro sucks on his neck while pinning him down prone to the bed is literal heaven. It’s a little embarrassing how much he’s enjoying it. Johnny tries to suppress his breathlessness as Gyro uses him like a toy.
But then the pressure slows, and Johnny turns in a haze to see Gyro sat up, lightly pumping his cock over the curve of his ass. A thin line of pre-cum drips from the tip connecting to his skin. Johnny licks his lips.
Gyro's voice is hoarse as he talks, “Turn over.”
Johnny does without hesitation. He’s splayed on his back and Gyro looks at him with hunger. He fights the urge to cover himself because he has a sinking feeling that Gyro really wouldn’t like that right now. Better to give in than to fight it, he thinks.
After Gyro is satisfied by Johnny’s willingness he straddles over him, leaning down to kiss him deep. Large hands card through Johnny’s chlorine-soaked hair as Gyro moves lower to suck at his jaw again. Damn, Gyro likes marking him up...
Not that Johnny is complaining though.
Gyro’s hands leave his hair and settle downward.
He grips their two cocks together. The difference in size is plain as day. Johnny is enamored by the way his presses against Gyro’s. The slick mixes as Gyro lazily strokes them both with just one hand. It makes Johnny want to squirm around to get the tingles inside him to relax. He hums at the fire that pulses through his body.
“Johnny, you’re so good for me…” Gyro trails off into his ear, sounding rather beside himself.
Johnny moans. He can’t handle it when Gyro says stuff like that about him. Has to bite his lip, claw into his pillow to keep himself composed.
The speed of Gyro’s wrist picks up and the lewd noises of their sex saturates what makes up the rest of their senses. The way Johnny’s skin is on fire, the way Gyro groans low in the back of his throat, the way he tells Johnny that he’s doing good for him, and just for him. Johnny doesn’t want to do this with anyone else—can’t even imagine it with anyone else—not when Gyro is making him feel so important and so loved, that’s all he’s ever wanted nothing bigger than this nothing else—
An amazing amount of pleasure racks through Johnny. Involuntary gasps spill from his mouth, all the ones he wishes he could cover. His hand goes to weakly grasp at the wrist that keeps stroking the two of them together. It’s too much pressure, a velvety goodness mixed with ache.
The hand that sent him up takes him back down as it releases him. Johnny’s head falls back onto the bed.
Everything feels right with the world in this moment. Sated, complete, fulfilled. It ticks all the marks for Johnny.
But, wow, he is exhausted.
So much so, that he almost tries to fall asleep until he peeks down with half-lidded eyes.
Gyro’s still hard.
And looking positively sinful. His usual long hair is half pushed back and tousled. His lips are faintly swollen from sucking face for the past half hour. It makes Johnny wish he could get hard again.
Using all the strength he has left, Johnny raises himself on his elbows and sits up to bring Gyro’s cock close to his lips.
Ugh, Gyro looks so frustrated as he swipes his thumb over the tip. It’s amazing. He could do this all day.
Johnny looks up at him expectantly, “Do you want me to suck you off?” he asks.
The visible tremble that goes through Gyro’s body makes Johnny proud. The fact that he has any sort of affect at all on the other makes him giddy.
“Later.” Gyro scratches the top of Johnny’s head playfully, “You look tired. Just sit there for a second.”
Sit there for a second? He frowns but compiles. He wants to make himself of some use since he’s here. But then Gyro is bringing his hand down to tilt Johnny’s chin up toward him.
Oh.
“Open your mouth.”
Oh.
Making a show of it, not only does Johnny open his mouth, but he sticks his tongue out too. It’s a clear invitation. He doesn’t break eye contact with Gyro once. A true spectacle.
Gyro’s jaw clenches as he starts to stroke himself over Johnny’s face. It’s more sloppy than before, a loss of composure from Johnny’s eagerness to take it.
And, fuck, does he want it. With the way Gyro bores into his eyes like they’re the only thing in the world, how can he not? Gyro’s face strains as he races closer to the edge. His pace growing quicker, and quicker, and quicker, and if Johnny could just—
He licks a quick stripe on the very tip and Gyro digs his fingers into his scalp as he cums on Johnny’s lips. It spills out of him along with the moan he can’t hold in anymore.
Johnny is painted in white. He licks his lips to get a taste.
Gyro’s chest rises and falls as he comes down from his high, “Johnny.” he sighs out, “You look good like that.”
The typical grin is back shining down at Johnny. He wants to roll his eyes. Gyro’s not wrong though, he thinks, taking the quickest of glances towards his bedroom mirror. He does look good like that.
Maybe taking a cumshot to the face isn’t the most romantic thing Johnny’s ever been a part of. But, damn, if it wasn’t a good decision. It feels amazing to finally let loose.
And as he cuddles into Gyro’s chest (after a good thirty minutes of barely talking from pure embarrassment), Johnny decides that he’s finally content. Also, definitely less upset about the whole Gyro getting laid off thing. Guess that’s the power of someone jacking you off.
Yet, he still finds himself frowning as he traces circles on Gyro’s skin. He peers up at the other. Gyro’s eyes are half-closed, he looks sleepy.
“Pst.” Johnny whispers.
Gyro rubs at his back soothingly, “Mmm?”
“Will you visit me on Thursdays at least?”
If anything that question makes Gyro appear even more tired than before. He runs a hand down his face, groaning, “Why are you so upset about me leaving?”
“Huh?” Johnny is almost offended that Gyro would ask something like that, “Why wouldn’t I be upset?!”
Gyro looks at Johnny with a horribly confused expression, then his lips part in a sudden realization, “Oh...shit.”
“What?”
“I never did tell you that I live five minutes away, right?”
Johnny pulls Gyro into a hug and lets himself laugh.