Chapter Text
They met like people meet. By chance.
"Which one are you trying to reach?"
The library was quiet. The library was always quiet at that hour, on this day of the week. Johnny liked it for it was quiet. Almost desert. He liked it for he didn't have to make a show of himself, rolling around in his wheelchair, maneuvering with difficulty between the shelves. He liked it for he didn't have to face the glare of judgement, or badly concealed disgust, in his fellow students' eyes as his wheel got stuck in some narrow space. Usually. Not today. Today, he triggered someone else's pity. Once more.
"Which one?"
He had seen this man before. This tall man with the long light blonde hair and the peculiar beard style. He had seen this man before. Studying alone at his table. During the quiet hours. He had seen this man before. Pondering at a bunch of notes, sliding his hair backwards, taking off his glasses, clicking his tongue while rubbing his closed eyelids. He had seen this man. He had been looking at this man.
"I can get it myself, thank you."
And now he had triggered his pity, trying to grab a book that was out of reach. Pathetic. He was so pathetic.
"Wrong" the man sighed "The book is a shelf too high" pulling his glasses on top of his head "Listen, you don't want to depend on others, I get that" crossing his arms on his chest, despite the book in his hand "And, if you want to go all the way back to the desk to ask for help, be my guest" a medical book "But I'm right here so" he grinned and Johnny wondered if he didn't see a golden tooth or two "Promise I won't tell anyone what your kink is."
"Huh?" he blushed suddenly "Wh-What?"
"Mamma mia, it's a joke!" oh, so that was where his slight accent was coming from "Your book" and perhaps those deep green eyes too "Last call, which one is it?"
Italy. A foreigner. Was it the reason why he was always on his own? Despite being so attractive, and considerate in his own way?
"The-The blue one" he mumbled "On horse breeding."
"See? It wasn't so difficult, was it?" he smirked, putting one of his locks behind his ear "Though that's quite the nasty kink, horses."
Johnny's mouth dropped open as he struggled, and failed, to find a smart answer. Alright. Maybe that was the true reason why he was always alone. He wasn't funny. Sure, making jokes in a foreign language was probably quite a challenge but still. He wasn't funny. He was embarrassing. So fucking embarrassing. Goddammit, they just met!
"Come on! It's a joke!" he put the book in Johnny's lap, with some unexpected carefulness, alongside his medical one "Why are you people so uptight?" walking behind his wheelchair.
Walking. Behind. His wheelchair. Wait. Wait! No way. No fucking way.
"What are you doing?" Johnny tensed, glanced over his shoulder "Thanks for the book but there's no need…"
"Ma, dì quello che vuoi" what? don't touch my "It'll be faster this way" don't you dare to touch my chair!
Though he did. Dare. To touch his chair. To push it alongside the corridors. He was right. It was a lot faster this way. And he was a lot more precise, maneuvering between those narrow shelves, never sticking a wheel somewhere. Never making a show of himself. Maneuvering all the way to his table. To the table he was usually working alone on. What was he doing? What the fuck was he doing? He couldn't have noticed, right? Johnny's staring on the previous days? Oh, Lord, please. Not that. Anything but that.
"Here you go" no, no, no "You haven't put your belongings somewhere else already, have you?"
He didn't notice. He couldn't possibly have. He was always so focused on his work, so lost in his own thoughts. He couldn't have noticed. The heavy staring from a boy on the side. Even if said boy was in a wheelchair. Right? Not that. Anything but that.
"N-No, thank you" and to say he made room for Johnny to sit right before him "Your book" perhaps he did notice in the end "Ahem?"
Come to think he didn't even know his name. The name of this charming and yet embarrassing man.
"Gyro" he held out a hand "Gyro Zeppeli."
A beautiful name. For a beautiful man.
"Jonathan" he answered, shaking his hand "Jonathan Joestar. But you can call me Johnny."
"Johnny" he repeated, sitting down, gathering his hair into a loose bum "Johnny Joestar" here it goes, uh? the moment he puts two and two together? "What about I call you Jojo? Nyo-ho."
No. No way. He didn't. He didn't just say that. He didn't just mention his cursed nickname, laughing in a way too cute to be overlooked, flashing golden teeth that weren't only one or two but all of them. A foreigner, a full set of golden teeth. How much money did he have exactly?
"Don't" he almost spat "People used to call me Jojo to pick on me" opening his book as a way to change the subject "Johnny's fine."
"Johnny it is, then."
He added nothing more, opening his own book as well, bringing his glasses down as he started to scan the lines quickly, taking notes just as fast, putting a rebellious lock behind his ear from time to time. And Johnny couldn't focus. He couldn't. He tried, though. He really tried. He flipped the pages, went straight for the chapter he was supposed to work on today. Supposed to. Right. There was another reason why he was usually studying at the library during the quiet hours. He wanted to be a horse breeder, since his previous career pretty much went down the drain two years ago. He wanted to be a horse breeder, hence had to study how horses are actually bred. With all the mating process it conveyed. How was he supposed to focus on mating process now, right after this Italian idiot called it a kink ? He was the kinky one, honestly, staring at pictures of naked body parts! How could he focus? How could he? He tried, though. He really tried. He forced himself to read, to write down a few notes. But he couldn't focus. He couldn't focus on his work. On Gyro's hands, on Gyro's lock falling before his eyes over and over again, on Gyro's frowning face, he could focus very much.
"Johnny?"
And those eyes were mesmerizing. Those eyes of a green he had never seen before. A green matching his nails.
"Do you want some coffee?" he stretched "I need a break."
Sure. He did work so efficiently, he might be tired. The pages before him were covered in a barely readable handwriting obeying a color scheme of some sorts. Whereas his own notes couldn't even fill a page, even if he was counting the doodles in. Great.
"Yeah" Johnny sighed "I can't make anything out of it."
"Your treat, right?" Gyro smiled "As a courtesy for the book?"
But, honestly, this man!