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Cowboys are frequently, secretly fond of eachother

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Johnny Joestar is not interested in men.

That is a baseless, unfounded accusation with no viable proof whatsoever. Even if nobody was actually even saying he was.

It’s completely normal that Gyro Zeppeli’s stupid laugh makes him break into the faintest hints of a smirk. And the only reason he laughs at his dumb jokes to make him feel better, most definitely.

It’s completely normal that he runs his fingers through the ends of Gyro’s sandy hair. Thinking about how soft it is as he twists it around his index finger, incredibly careful to try and not pull on it as he did. He doesn’t think too hard about how Gyro does the same either.

And the only reason they huddle so closely together is because of the cold, unforgiving nights. Heat leaves the body fastest through the head, so its only natural Gyro rests his own head on top of Johnny’s. They most definitely only wrapped their arms around each other’s waist to keep as little cold space between them as possible.

Same reason why they sleep under one blanket, plus having one for each of them would be too much weight of course. Again, it’s cold, so they wrap their arms around one and another for warmth. Johnny doesn’t know any Italian, but he’s certain Gyro would call any of this other friends “Tesoro mio” in such a loving way as well, right?

The only thing he couldn’t explain was when he and Gyro awoke on the shore unharmed, a pink haired figure only a dot in the distance, Johnny was so overjoyed by the fact Gyro was alive that he wrapped his hands around the Italian man’s face and-

Well.

Johnny Joestar might be interested in Gyro.

But at least Gyro Zeppeli is interested in him.

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“There’s seven”

“Bullshit.”

“Johnny,” he pleaded “I’m not joking for once, there’s-“

“Gyro there is not seven ways to say ‘the’ in Italian. I refuse to believe it.” Johnny’s tone was comically serious, like he was defending himself from an insult.

When there were no enemies around to fight, spending all day staring at trees and mountains on a horse was honestly incredibly boring. The two of them always trying to find new ways to entertain each other on the road. Today Gyro offered to try and teach Johnny some Italian, Johnny almost immediately regretted saying yes to it.

“Fine. Let’s go over basic phrases then-“ Johnny let out a strained groan “-oh shut up.” Gyro laughed in his signature nyo ho ho! It made him smile. Johnny loved Gyro’s laugh, but that wasn’t important at the moment.

“Come ti chiami?” Gyro spoke like he was asking a child, the jockey rolled his eyes.

“Mi chaimi-“

“Chiamo” the Italian corrected

“But you just said Chiami.” Johnny glared at him, confused.

“Chiami is your name. Chiamo is my name.” Gyro flashed his grills in a smile, Johnny hated how it made his heart skip a beat. “Let’s try it again, okay?” Johnny nodded seriously, as if his answer would be life or death.

“Come ti chiami?” Gyro asked once more, identical in tone.

“Mi...” Johnny hesitated “...Mi Chiamo Johnny?” He sounded like he wasn’t sure of his answer, but Gyro seemed overjoyed.

“Buono! Molto Buono!” He exclaimed “Guardati vai! Il mio amore parla come un nativo!”

“Gyro.”

“Si, Tesoro mio?”

“I hope you realize I still don’t understood a single word you just said.”

Oh

Right.

“....er, sorry.” Gyro mumbled, Johnny giggled. Gyro felt like his heart would burst from his chest after hearing that, but he’d never tell.

“Also, are you at least ever going to tell me what ‘Tesoro’ means so I at least know what you’re calling me?” Gyro put a finger to his chin, humming loudly.

“Hm.....” he pondered “...no.”

“You’re insufferable.”

“But you’re not getting rid of me anytime soon, Tesoro mio”

“....I’m not complaining.”

They both laughed.

They loved each other’s laugh.

Chapter Text

Neither of them had actually asked if they were going back to Naples together, it had just become a silent assumption between the two. 

 

The reality of it all only came crashing down on Johnny when Gyro mentioned how excited he was to show Johnny their new home. 

 

Their new home. 

 

Their new home. 

 

 It made Johnny’s head spin just thinking about it. He had no idea what Italy looked like, but from Gyro had told him, it was beautiful. They’d probably get a tiny little house so close to the sea that you could smell the salt in the air and hear the waves in the distance. He felt like such a damn sap, really. 

 

He only realized how long he had actually been thinking about it when he heard Gyro basically shout his name for the third time in a row and saw a hand wave in front of his face. 

 

“What are you thinking about that’s making you blank like that?” 

 

“Nothing important, really.” 

 

——————————————

 

The race was over, Gyro Zepelli was perfectly alive, and him and Johnny were sticking to their word about going to Italy together. 

 

The two made their way down the docks to the boat, Johnny could still hear the sounds of reporters and paparazzi behind him as Gyro helped him wheel up the steep ramp. Slow Dancer and Valkyrie were already on the boat waiting for them, and everything else were the clothes on their backs and in the few bags of things Johnny kept on his lap. Gyro originally wanted to carry Johnny up on his shoulders, but that idea was quickly shot down. Saying that they shouldn’t add any more fuel to the rumor mill while they were still on land. Because of course there had been rumors about them. 

 

The rumors existed ever since they were first spotted traveling together, why wouldn’t they? Famous Ex-Jockey Johnny Joestar in a relationship with the mysterious foreigner who stole the spotlight in the first portion of the race? Who just so happened to be a man? Talk about a story! And the fact that the jockey was going back to Italy with him only made them grow, that stuff was allowed there, not here. 

 

They had finally reached the deck of the boat and faced the group of reporters still trying to shout questions and adoring fans swooning. Gyro humored them by placing a hand on Johnny’s shoulder and giving a small wave to the crowd. The boat’s horn sounded off and Johnny watched the distance between them and the docks slowly grow in size. 

 

“Oi, Johnny.” Gyro said, Johnny looked up at him. “Let us give these people something to really talk about, hm?” 

 

The next thing Johnny knew, Gyro bent down to his partner’s right and held his wide brimmed hat over the crowds view of their faces as they shared a quick kiss. Johnny swore you could’ve heard the crowd’s gasps from across the country. One could’ve argued that you couldn’t prove that it was a kiss, but when they broke apart Johnny saw blue residue on Gyro’s lips, and he assumed green was left behind on his own. He shoved Gyro in the stomach, laughing. 

 

“You dumbass!” He groaned, a wide smile on his face. “What the fuck was that for! They’re never gonna shut up about us now!” 

 

Gyro shrugged, placing his hat back on his head. “So? We aren’t there when they do. We’ll be home.”

 

Home. That still gave Johnny chills up his back. They were gonna live their lives together, this would be the beginning of a new chapter in a life they’d been sharing for what felt like ages. Johnny spun his chair around and looked at the ocean in front of him, Gyro snaked his hand on top of his own. Johnny closed his eyes, the smell of salt in the air and the sea breeze drowning out any background noise of buzzing paparazzi. 

 

“Johnny?” Gyro spoke softly, almost a whisper 

 

“Yeah?”

 

“I’m so fucking sick of the ocean.”

 

“....me too.”

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Gyro never expected the Steel Ball Run Race to be that exciting, truly. He was excited to travel across America, but the race itself probably wouldn’t be much, get in, win, leave. It was supposed to be simple. 

 

He never expected to be bringing someone home with him. 

 

Gyro considered Johnny an odd case when they first met. He was snappy and sarcastic and rude, an awful attitude to have in general. Apparently he was famous? Or he at least used to be, Johnny was just as much an enigma to Gyro as Gyro was to him. 

 

But soon after their partnership in the race together, Gyro found out something very important about Johnny. Underneath that hard shell was probably one of the softest people he had ever met. He was still just as sarcastic, but there was a genuine kindness to him, a sincerity not many truly saw. They shared their deepest secrets together, their darkest fears, and their greatest wishes. 

 

Gyro loved him, his realization wasn’t a single defining moment,  just something he came to learn overtime. Not too long after, he learned Johnny loved him too. 

 

A silent agreement came up between them, Johnny was going to come back home with him after the race. 

 

He was so excited to show him Napoli. 

 

———————————

 

The last day of the race was a blur, the horn of the train, the unbearably loud roaring of the ocean’s waves. He could hear Johnny screaming behind him, and saw President Valentine’s blank unknowable expression. The next thing he knew a sharp pain clawed through his chest and he was tumbling off Valkyrie, the ocean swallowing him whole. 

 

He was still half unconscious when he came too, but in his haziness he could tell a few things. That he was soaking wet, he was being held in familiar arms, and the sound of Johnny’s sobs echoed through the air. Gyro’s wounds were gone, probably because of Cream Starter, he thought, but pain still wracked his body, he slowly opened his eyes and stirred. Johnny’s grip suddenly tightened, as Gyro’s vision cleared, he noticed a familiar petite figure clinging to Johnny’s shoulder out of the corner of his eye, Lucy Steel. 

 

His eyes shifted back to Johnny, crying and sniffing, he looked so tired. But through his sobs, he looked at Gyro as if he couldn’t believe what he was seeing. “G...Gyro...” he spoke, barely a whisper. Seeing him like this made Gyro’s heart ache more than any bullet ever could.

Gyro weakly lifted his hand and brushed it against his lover’s wet cheek. He tried to speak, but is mind was so foggy any English he knew seemingly escaped him. “Jojo, non piangere...” he whispered, Johnny took Gyro’s hand in his own and held it to his cheek. Johnny was shaking like a leaf, more so than the teenage girl stuck to his side. “I’m here, darling,” Gyro rasped “I’m here.” 

 

“I know.” Johnny hiccuped, then froze, becoming painfully aware that Lucy was still with them. “....d-dumbass” he muttered. Up went the shell. Gyro wanted to laugh, but all he let out was a pained wheeze. 

 

He’s so glad Johnny’s okay  

 

—————————————

 

Gyro could see Valkyrie and Slow Dancer already being led off onto the docks as he walked down the ramp, Johnny on his shoulders. His wheelchair carrying their luggage as they laughed at each other’s jokes, playful teasing and awful puns alike. The breeze ran through Gyro’s hair as he gave a deep breath, he’s back in Italy and here to stay for good. 

 

“It looks amazing here, Gyro.” He heard Johnny say, a wistful tone in his voice. Gyro laughed, Johnny really is a complete softie after all. 

 

“Welcome home, Tesoro Mio.”

Chapter Text

Gyro could deal with many things in his life. Gore in the context of being a surgeon, gore in the context of being an executioner, almost being turned into a tree, being hung from a tree by his hair, and almost dying from a combination of blood loss and drowning (twice for that one, actually.) 

 

But in the name of the Father and The Holy Ghost (The Son has given him nothing but pain over the past year, fuck him.) there is one thing he can’t deal with, no matter what. 

 

Johnny was in the backyard in the stables when he heard a shrill shriek echoed through their small cottage. Johnny’s stomach dropped, something horrible came across his mind, a grim leftover from his habits during the race. 

 

Gyro’s in trouble. Gyro’s been hurt. Gyro could be-

Johnny flung himself from his chair, it was faster to spin his nails into the ground then try and push the wheels of his wheelchair against the grass. He made his way to the front door and pushed it open, one hand propping himself up while the other he prepared with a nail bullet to blow the brains out of whatever bastard tried to hurt Gyro. Then he looked inside. 

 

Gyro was the only person in their small room, perched in the corner on top of their bed. Pressing his arms against the wall and his legs pulled tightly into his chest. He was whimpering, and was he....crying? Gyro seemingly hadn’t fully realized Johnny had opened the door, his eyes dead focused on the floor, wide with fear. 

 

Sitting in the middle of the floor was a single, large, brown cockroach. And Johnny felt like an idiot for assuming the worst. Gyro then looked up at Johnny, shaking. 

 

“Jojo! Getridofitgetridofitgetridofittttt” He pleaded, pushing himself into the wall as much as he could. Part of Johnny felt like he didn’t think over the fact he chose to spend the rest of his life with this man hard enough. 

 

“Gyro it’s just a cockroach-“ 

 

“You don’t think I know that?!” Gyro snapped “But I hate them Jojo, I despise them. They make my skin crawl.“ the roach scuttled only a touch closer to the bed, causing him to jump and give a small yelp. “Please just. Kill it.” 

 

Johnny swore his eyes rolled so far back he could see the inside of his head, but he obliged. His pointer finger glowed a pale blue and the bullet that was his fingernail shot out, puncturing the awful little creature. It stopped moving. He pushed himself over to it, picked up its sorry corpse, then threw it into a nearby bush back outside. Gyro slowly slipped off the bed, as if he was still afraid it was going to get him. 

 

“Now that you’re done with acting like a damn baby,” Johnny flicked his head back outside towards the open door frame “Can you take me back to my chair? I threw myself out of it for you.” 

 

Gyro laughed and scooped him up, Johnny wrapped his arms around his partner’s neck, nuzzling his face into the other’s neck. 

 

“Of course, Jojo.”