Preface.
When the eldest son was born into the Zeppeli family, two things were certain.
One, was that were something to happen to his father, he would take up the mantle as head of the household and to be tasked with caring for not only his mother, but his younger siblings as well.
And two? He would, without a doubt, become a doctor and take over their family practice- carefully handed down and cared for from generation to generation.
The wants and desires of said son mattered not to the family. His destiny was already decided for him even before he was born- and if for some reason he failed? Well, failure just wasn't an option. He would be pushed and pushed until he properly fit the mold provided for him, and rewarded handsomely for his success.
Unfortunately for Gregorio Zeppeli, Gyro, his son, was absolutely nothing like himself.
Gregorio would grimace at his son's behaviour- he was extroverted and loud, full of jokes and stories that amused his younger siblings. His son wore his heart on his sleeve and even worse he'd fall in love with anyone. He'd caught him spending time intimately with people of all genders- not very productive for finding a woman to have children with, as expected of him. He was a handful, full of far too many emotions that would only serve to distract from his life's purpose.
Gregorio had felt he'd done everything to keep his son happy, everything to discourage him from his eccentric lifestyle choices and settle him down, but nothing seemed to work. He'd even allowed him to take two years off after highschool before forcing him to begin his doctoral studies, and perhaps this was his mistake. Perhaps his leniency was only driving his son to rebel further, and he needed to keep him on a tighter leash.
Regardless, Gyro was now spending the majority of his time studying, which Gregorio was hoping would calm him down. They hadn't emigrated from Italy for their son to turn into some wild, spoiled, hooligan incapable of doing his job.
Gyro had a duty to fulfill.
Maybe boots weren't the best option today.
The blonde's piercing emerald gaze fell to the boots on his feet, scowl tugging at his lips. It was raining, and the delicate leather was sure to be ruined. He'd considered running shoes earlier that morning, but in his infinite wisdom had decided to go for style over practicality. He'd hardly consider himself fashionable by any means, but Gyro knew he had a unique style that turned heads. At times, he wasn't quite sure if the looks were positive, but he didn't mind the attention regardless. Quite frankly, it was fun to catch people's eye with his clothing choices, and guess what they were thinking about him. It gave him something to keep his mind off the mind numbingly boring things he was being forced to study.
Today, the man wore a loose white button up, with tan pants, and a pair of brand-new cowboy boots- hence his annoyance at the rain. His sandy-blonde hair hung loose around his face, despite the fact he'd tucked it into a straw hat earlier which he was surprisingly still wearing. Normally he'd get annoyed by the thing and shove it under his arm, or in his car, whatever was convenient. He felt he looked like a stylish cowboy, which wasn't too far from the truth the longer he thought about it. He had a beloved horse, Valkyrie, that he'd been longing to spend time with. Why his father had allowed him to have a horse, yet no time to see her, he couldn't comprehend. He could hardly stomach the thought of someone other than himself caring for her and he quickly pushed the thoughts from his mind.
His backpack hung off one shoulder, but he'd been cradling his books for his next class in his arms for some reason or another. Perhaps he just liked the feeling of them being so close, it brought him comfort that he hadn't accidentally forgotten them. The piece of paper settled on top of Gyro's books instructed him to go to the art wing for his next class, which, if he were to be honest with himself, was one he wasn't looking forward to. It was a technical drawing class, one where he was to learn how to properly sketch medical diagrams, and his father had absolutely insisted he take this course. In the modern age, Gyro wondered if such a thing was really necessary, but it wasn't like he'd been given a choice in his classes. He could hardly believe that even at twenty-four he was still being controlled by his father, and he was sure it would remain that way until his father died, or in the very least, grew too old to give a fuck.
Even worse, the course was a first year course. This meant Gyro would be hanging around a bunch of people quite a bit younger than him. He'd already felt a little self conscious being so much older than some of his peers- it was his only regret in waiting longer to attend school. Though, the tiny sliver of freedom he'd been allowed on his time off had given him opportunities he knew he'd never get again. He knew the second he graduated from college he'd be forced to get married, forced to have children, forced to work at the clinic.
The blonde tried not to think about it too much, the thought of so much pressure and no choice of his own left him feeling angry and frustrated, which were hardly emotions Gyro wanted to attach to his character. Gyro prided himself in being level-headed and calm, if not a little bubbly when given the chance to be truly himself. He didn't like appearing angry or aggressive when he wasn't alone. Keeping a positive attitude was truly the only thing keeping him sane these days, and it was something he desperately needed.
The door to the classroom was just like any other, Gyro noted, as he reached his destination. Some paper about a club was hastily plastered to the back of it, someone's fingerprints smudging the glass to see inside. A deep breath prompted him to grasp the handle and push his way inside. To his surprise, there weren't really any students seated yet- Gyro had a spare before this class, so he'd got there a little earlier than anticipated.
Emerald gaze bounced around the room, not noting anything spectacular, really. It was a dreary looking place, with 3D models of various body parts sitting on the back counter, and a skeleton hanging in the corner. He was hoping that because this was an art class the room would be a little more colourful, but apparently he was wrong. He was sure this was a contributing factor to his gaze lingering a little too long at the only other person in the classroom.
He was a rather pretty looking thing, shaggy blonde locks peeking out from underneath a beanie that sported pink stars. The rest of his clothing seemed just as colourful, though Gyro couldn't see all of his outfit, just the light blue sweater he wore. His chin rested in the palm of his hand, expression soft as he stared out the window. The longer Gyro looked, the more he noticed about the blonde. His nose wrinkled despite the fact he seemed to be lost in thought, brows furrowed. Gyro hated to admit it, but the man seemed rather endearing, from his expressions, to the soft pastels of his clothing. The fact he wasn't paying attention to him was something Gyro was more than thankful for. He definitely didn't want his first impression with this mystery man to be Gyro gawking at him.
And this brought him to his next dilemma. Was he going to sit next to him? Would that be weird? Gyro didn't know, though part of him didn't really care if it was weird or not. If it was weird, why would that matter? He could just not sit next to him next time, it wasn't like they'd have assigned seating in a college course. Better still, he could just break into Italian and pretend he had absolutely no idea what the man was saying. (Was that really fair of him? Probably not, but nobody had to know he was taught English by his father as soon as he could talk.)
Swallowing his pride and the nervous lump in his throat, he allowed his feet to carry him to the table the blonde sat at. He was sure he heard him coming from a mile away, the sound of his boots on the cheap linoleum creating the loudest possible sound on planet earth- he was almost certain of this. He was once again cursing himself for not wearing something less attention grabbing- the boots themselves weren't the problem, but the sounds they made were obnoxious. Though, Gyro considered himself to be a little obnoxious at times, so maybe this was a good warning for the blonde guy.
Gyro was beginning to regret his bold decision. Teeth sunk into his lower lip as he was about to turn on his heel- until beanie boy looked right at him.
Fuck.
Gyro quickly noted two things. Firstly, the blonde was much better looking than he could have ever expected. He boasted bright blue eyes, and a soft dusting of freckles that settled on his nose and cheeks. Curiously, his cheeks were now a rosy shade of pink. Had they been that rosy before? He couldn't remember, time felt as if it was moving far too quickly. Second, his expression hadn't changed. His nose was wrinkled, brow quirking right at Gyro. He was positive his expression was directed at him, too, as he hadn't heard the sound of anyone coming through the door after him. It was just the two of them, eyes locked on one another's faces. Gyro didn't dare look away, frozen like a deer in headlights as he waited for the other to break their shared gaze.
"What?" The blonde finally asked, features settling into an icy glare. "Are you gonna sit down, or just stand there staring at me?"
Gyro had joked earlier to himself about pretending not to know English, but for a moment he swore he forgot every English word he knew. What did he even want to say? By the sounds of it, this guy wasn't too keen on his presence, but Gyro took in a sharp breath before offering the blonde a dazzling grin.
At least, Gyro thought it was dazzling. In the very least it was sparkly due to the golden grills on his teeth- something he'd done to spite his father above all else. He liked how it looked, but it made him feel even more confident knowing how much it pissed off his dad. Something about it being unprofessional, that doctors should keep themselves free of any self expression or body modifications.
Gyro allowed a brow to quirk as the blonde looked away from him at the smile. The blonde seemed to wrinkle his nose even further, gaze settling on the book on his desk. He almost looked embarrassed, but Gyro didn't take much note of it. Instead, he allowed himself to keep walking forward, carefully pulling out the chair next to the blonde and sitting down next to him.
"Hello! I'm Gyro!" Gyro finally spoke, figuring he'd start with the basics. "I hope it's alright if I sit here?" He asked as he placed his books on the tabletop, bag hanging off the back of his chair.
Unfortunately for Gyro, his nerves made it difficult to focus on his speech- he knew he was speaking with a thicker accent than he'd taught himself to talk with. Hopefully he was still easy enough to understand. It was difficult to shake the accent when his father insisted they speak Italian at home.
The blonde rolled his eyes. He seemed to have a bit of an attitude problem, but Gyro had yet to meet a person his enthusiasm couldn't break. He just waited for him to respond, digging around in his bag for a sketchbook and pencil.
"I mean, you're already sitting down. Why are you asking me now if you can sit?" He asked, keeping his gaze held on his books. "But I guess so."
Gyro noted his face still seemed flushed, though whether it was from annoyance or something else he couldn't tell. He straightened his posture in his seat, hands settling on top of his books. He did his best to keep his eyes to himself, but couldn't help his wandering eyes from peaking over at the blonde's notebooks. It was his hope that he'd be able to figure out his name without asking, he didn't want to annoy this man further.
Thankfully, it seemed this blonde had a doodling habit, the front of his notebooks covered with doodles of random things- mostly stars and horseshoes, but the name Johnny was written across it in a fancy script. Johnny? Was that his name? Hopefully he'd be able to confirm it, soon.