Chapter Text
I'm working late cause I'm an actor
Oh, he looks so cute wrapped 'round my finger
Gale is sure it's the day he's going to die. His own chief of security will strangle him with his own hands while yelling why going outside alone was a bad idea. It's true, Gale can see it already. The funny but scary way DeMarco's veins keep bulging out of his forehead when he's angry. That is going to be the last thing he sees on this planet, not the horde of people running after him.
Maybe he's being dramatic, as Harry says he's always is. But then again, Harry Crosby has a flare for dramatic himself so he shouldn't be the one throwing rocks.
Another shriek coming behind him reminds Gale that he is in fact, running for his life.
He practically bursts out of the metro station, trying not to shove innocent bystanders out of the way as he keeps pulling his hood back into place. It was a stupid idea to come outside, he can see that now. Maybe he knew that already before he snuck out from his hotel.
But really, can anybody blame him when he literally has to sneak out from his own hotel? As if he was a hostage. Feeling caged, locked up and caught is not a new feeling for him. It has been there since he knew what imprisonment meant, as if it was holding him by the throat, laughing when he couldn't breathe. It smells like his father, it has the eyes of his mother.
Nevertheless it was stupid. It is stupid. Why can't they just let him have a day of peace? One day when he pretends to be normal, when he pretends that everything is under control, that everything is the way he wants to. He just wanted to see the city alone. Is that really a crime?
It certainly feels like one, as he looks over his shoulder to check if they were still following. He almost stumbles when he realises just how many people are running after him. The two teenagers who recognised him despite the dark coat, hood and cap run the closest, excitement and blind euphoria on their faces. Gale hates it a little, then. The long ago made promise that he would never hate his fans is ripped out from him and he watches as it breaks on the pavement. Trampled under paparazzi who want to catch him.
Not for the first time does it benefit him that he goes to the gym regularly, methodically. The first time he sees Croz after this, he'll shove it in his face. For now, he only speeds up in hope of spotting a safe place. He cannot run back to the Hotel, not just because it was miles away. Dozens if not hundreds of people are camped out front since the moment his feet touched English soil, he witnessed it himself when his security had to find another entrance days before.
There's a shout, followed by laughter which he doesn't like. It takes a minute to realize why he finds it so weird, as it comes from the front and not behind. Gale is startled to realise that he has been overtaken. The locals obviously know the roads better, and they have no qualms about using them against him. To corner him as if he was a feral animal.
He stops so suddenly that pain shoots through his ankle, but before he could truly register it he turns to the one man wide alley on his right. These tiny streets are really not designed for people to run around like madmen. Gale keeps bumping into the walls which leave his shoulders sore, he can only hope they won't bruise.
Just as he looses hope of ever getting away a sign catches his eyes. The metal plaque stands out against the grey building, depicting a dog with a cross cut out in the middle. Gale has a second to realize what it means before he practically rams the door, his ankle throbbing with the move. He pushes against the door from the inside, holding it with two hands in case they saw him run into the shop. As he tries to catch his breath he notices the warm air that surrounds him, making him aware how cold he was earlier.
"Curt?" Gale whips his head around as the voice approaches, realizing what a mistake he made. If this guy turned out to be anything like those outside... Benny will kill him. "I already told you arsehole not to slam that door, it's a delicate structure..." The moment their eyes meet, a bolt of electricity runs down his back, snapping him into standing. The guy who stands in the doorway is just about his age. He has blue scrubs on with white rubber slippers, his card dangling from his chest. Gale is surprised to see that the stranger is taller than him, his shoulders wider. He looks at him from under the most perfect chocolate-brown curls with wide-open eyes, the color of which Gale can't determine from so far away. "I wasn't aware there was a zombie apocalypse out there."
Gale follows his gaze right out the window, where the dozens of people who were chasing him turn to the next street. He isn't aware of the relieved sigh that leaves his lips until he hears the stranger chuckle. Snapping his attention back to the man he notices everything else. The air smells of animals and candles, and there are chairs infront of him - for costumers he guesses. They are standing in what seems like a reception with the addition of an examination table. Gale has never been to an animal hospital before.
"Are you alright, mate?" Gale feels his cheeks burn in answer, shame taking the place adrenaline left a moment ago.
"Yes, thank you." He clears his throat, stepping away from the door. If he wasn't so afraid of lingering paparazzi, he would tear that door down to escape the mischief in the stranger's eyes.
"American, huh?" He chuckles again, his voice surprisingly deep. The stranger steps to the desk, grabbing a few folders there before looking up. "Always in trouble."
"I'm... I'm sorry. I was just trying to... to get away." He knows how it sounds, his fingers twitch with the need to grab the door handle.
"It's alright. I assumed you weren't here for our treatment." The stranger smiles at him amused, which only deepens his suffering. Why, why couldn't he just listen to DeMarco? Just this once.
"No, I... wasn't. Sorry." He watches as the man arranges the folders a few times, grabbing documents which need signing. It fascinates Gale. As if he wasn't standing in the doorway. As if he wasn't literally running from an army of mad people with cameras. The man steps next to the window, pulling out boxes from the cabinet next to it before peering outside.
"I'm fairly sure there are at least five twats still here." Twats? Gale stares at him for a moment before realizing what he meant, and that snaps him back to reality.
"Thanks." Feeling horrible he shifts his weight to his other leg, prepared to stand awkwardly in the doorway for hours. Maybe if he doesn't move the stranger will forget that he's there.
"You coud sit down. If you want." Gale raises his eyes from the ground, blinking at the man standing there with a wide smile on his lips. As if this was the funniest thing that ever happened to him. At least one of them was enjoying himself.
"Right, erm. Thanks." The chairs are just a few steps away but with his overworked muscles and sore ankle they seem like miles away. He feels the stranger's gaze on himself but Gale doesn't have it in him to fault him. He was just going on about his day when Gale practically broke his door down. Oh God, he probably disturbed those animals too, didn't he? He feels like an asshole.
He feels worse, actually. Of course the day he leave his phone behind is the one he gets attacked by a thousand paparazzi. Wonderful. Just what he needed. Just what his manager needed.
"Here." Gale's eyes snap open at the sudden voice, surprised to find the stranger squatting in front of him. He's holding something in his hand, reaching it to Gale. Without really thinking about it he takes it, hissing when the cold hits his skin. Looking at him questioningly, the stranger chuckles. "For your leg."
"I... Sorry?" He blinks slowly, as if that would help him understand the situation better. The stranger's eyes watch him amused, and he has the feeling that he sees right through him.
"Your ankle? Do keep up, Cleven." The man rolls his eyes, the smile never leaving his face. That answers Gale's unspoken question of whether he was recognised. He finds that he doesn't mind. How strange. "I'm John Egan, by the way. Now that we're friends you can finally stop looking at me like that."
"Like what?" Gale hears himself ask dumbly.
"Like I'm going to stand on the rooftop any minute to shout your name." And wasn't that something. Memories and lessons keep him from feeling ashamed, but he still avoids Egan's gaze.
John Egan. A stranger, considering them friends apparently.
"And put that ice on your ankle before they sue my arse for endangering you." Egan waits until he lifts his jeans, pushing the ice to his socks. "Wonderful." He pushes himself up ingoring the horrible crack in one of his knees, and returns to his desk.
The level of uninterest shocks Gale to his core. He doesn't think of himself as someone overly egoistic, but he knew how popular he became in the last decade. When it all began he had a dream, twenty bucks and hope. He built a name for himself so big he couldn't handle it anymore, a name everybody knew. To see that this person, John Egan was ignoring him in favor of his paperwork was astonishing. Rosie would laugh at him if he could hear what Gale was thinking. He would laugh so much he would fall from his chair. Even DeMarco couldn't stay statue-like, like he usually was. No, he would be right beside Rosie laughing at him for being such a snob. But he can't help himself. Feeling outraged, relieved and interested at the same time goes straight to his head. He feels drunk on it.
Movement pulls him out of his thoughts, making him refocus his gaze. He follows Egan's leaving figure until he disappears behind the corner, not a care in the world. Gale feels himself strain his neck until he can't anymore, trying to look. Where did he go? A new wave of paranoia mixed with anxiety washes over him, making him frown ridiculously. Every nerve in his body wants to stand up and follow that man. Some to check if he was telling on Gale for being here, some to see what had him so wrapped in his work.
Egan turns the corner before he could sit back into his chair, pretending to be looking at the floor. He blushes deeply, wishing the earth to open and just swallow him whole. Without even looking he can sense the smile on the stranger's face.
"Why don't you come with me?" Gale is surprised to hear the question, and he looks up. Egan is grabbing a heavy looking box, his arms straining under the weight.
"No, that's not necessary... I was just..."
"It's not exactly safe for you to sit there out in the open, innit?" It's an opportunity served on a silver platter, one that Gale would absolutely reject if he wasn't so curious. And so he looks into those eyes and nods seriously.
"You're absolutely right, anybody could come in." He scoots to the front of the chair, pushing himself up with his hands rather than his legs. Standing around holding an ice pack he feels stupid, but better at the same time. "Show the way?"
"Right." Egan smiles again, stepping around him.
This time Gale follows when he disappears around the corner, where Egan holds the door out for him. He finds himself in a bigger room, big enough for all the cages he finds there. On both sides there are cages separated by thin walls. They reach up to his shoulders, and above them are shelves of medicine bottles, collars and other items. There are pictures on the walls, plants and books on the shelves that make it seem like he just stepped into an enchanted forest.
He is mesmerised at how many small eyes are watching him, quiet or not. The door must've been soundproofed because the moment he steps through the whining of a dog reaches his ears.
"Oi! Quit it, Daisy. I'm coming." Egan moves to the back, leaving Gale gaping in the doorway.
He walks slowly, looking left and right scared that he'd miss one. Cats and dogs in various sizes all look at him curiously, just like he's probably looking at them. Their beds are surprisingly wide, padded with blankets and pillows. Some of them even wear those white cones around their necks.
"Nip at me again and I'll put Winston next to you, you cheeky bastard." He hears Egan's voice quietly, and he steps closer involuntarily. Sitting inside one of the cages, Egan is holding a dog close to his chest while spreading a blanket with the other. The dog, Gale is fairly sure it's a Spaniel, keeps squirming in his hand, his head hitting Egan's throat every few minutes. "Here, go on." Gently putting the dog down Egan pulls back, taking stock of the situation. The dog only lays on his new blanket, resting his head on his paws like he wasn't screaming his lungs out moments ago.
"Is he alright?" Gale asks before he can stop himself, and this time he surprises Egan. The man whips his head around so fast Gale is afraid he hurt his neck. "Sorry."
"No it's... it's okay. She, will be fantastic in a couple of hours won't you be Daisy?" The dog wagged her tail a few times before closing her eyes. "She's very particular about her blanket. Keeps screaming when I take it to wash it."
Stepping to the side he lets Egan out of the kennel, turning to find another pair of eyes on him. A bigger dog stares at him from the other place, so intensely it makes him nervous. The dog opens his mouth and Gale is prepared for the horribly loud bark when Egan finally locks Daisy's door.
"Shut it Bear. Don't even start." It seems to be enough, because the dog turns away from them, and is back to sleeping in minutes.
Gale reaches the far end of the room and finds a metal table there, cabinets surrounding it. There are still instruments, vials and bottles laying around and Gale gets the impression nobody's supposed to see the back.
"So Cleven." He turns around at the sound of his name, finds himself marvelling at the beautiful curls on the top of his head as Egan bends down to adjust Bear's lock. "Welcome to my office. I just finished my last surgery so there probably won't be another soul for hours. Loo's that way, you can sit there if you want. I have to check on a few of them, and the bloody paperwork is a nightmare." Egan chatters as he nods at the armchair in the corner. It looks really comfortable but it fits only one person.
"I can't take that... That's yours." Gale says, interrupting the other man's tirada about different feeding schedules.
"And now it's yours. I won't be using it anyway." He shrugs, than glares at him playfully. "Sit your arse down, Cleven."
And so he waits until Gale limps his way to the armchair, then practically collapses into it as soon as he realises just how soft it is. He can't even force himself to move despite Egan's annoyingly knowing smile. Just after a moment he realizes is retractable with a foothold and oh god, is this heaven?
"Told ya." The man turns on his heels, grabs a stethoscope off the wall on the way to the animals.
"I erm..." Gale should really learn how to keep his mouth shut until he figured out what to say. Egan turns back to him the moment that sound leaves his lips, a curious expression on his face. "Thank you." He doesn't answer because he senses the next question coming. "What's a loo?"
Egan blinks for a moment, before he bursts out laughing. The sound catches Gale off guard, as do the shining blue-green eyes and the shaking shoulders but he soon realizes he doesn't mind the man laughing at him. He's mildly surprised to find himself liking it.
"It means the toilet, Gale." How can a name sound so different from his mouth than from the thousands of others who shout it at him every day? He finds himself hiding a smile when he nods, too shocked to feel embarrassed. "Haven't you been in London for weeks? How come you haven't learned all the slang by now?"
"I don't work with many British people. It's not in our... erm. The filming crew is all from America." That surprises a blink out of Egan.
"Well shite, I didn't know you Americans were so posh you only worked with other Americans." He says and Gale can hear the teasing from a mile away.
"We do not." He answers scowling anyway, because he won't be a reason for anyone to look negatively on his country.
"Cheer up, mate. At least this way you won't have to learn another language."
"Another language?" Gale scoffs. "Please, as if it was so hard."
"Is that a challenge?" Egan looks at him grinning, resting both his hands on his hips. Gale somehow has to fight the smile on his face despite it being absent for the last few days.
"Sure." He shrugs, knowing already he will lose.
"And exactly how do you attempt to find a fit bird if you don't even speak the language?" Gale blinks at him dumbly, which only makes him laugh louder.
"I don't think anybody speaks bird, John." That startles him enough to shut up for a second, and that's when Gale realizes he used his first name. Shit. "Fit bird? Are you looking for dinner or what?"
"In a sense." John smiles to himself, before turning to the animals.
Gale is shocked at how at easy he feels. How calm, and strangely happy. Just a few hours ago he was running from an angry crowd of paparazzo and now... He sits in a ridiculously comfortable armchair while listening to a stranger drone on about his animals. He feels as if he was plucked out of his body and life, only to be dropped into this. This was not like him at all, being adventurous, following the flow of life. He's never been that way. For him, control and power were very important tools of how to get through a day. He's never left his phone and security behind, he's never clicked with a person before.
And it felt exactly like that, as if they clicked. Normally it took him weeks to soften his guards and paranoia towards someone, not minutes. Nevertheless, John Egan just looked at him twice and flew past his defenses as if nothing was wrong. Somehow it doesn't feel wrong, only when he thinks about it with his head.
"So...erm. How many of them are your patients?" He asks feeling the need to know something about the man that saved him. In a sense. It felt like cheating that Egan already knew everything about him just because he had an internet connection and a television. The amused glare he throws in Gale's direction is enough to regret that question, but John answers anyways.
"All of them." He opens one of the kennels, but it's too far away for Gale to see. A moment later there's an indignant hiss accompanied with the shushing sounds from Egan. "I own the whole animal hospital."
"That's amazing."
"Put that ice back onto your ankle." He rolls his eyes before he slaps it back onto his skin. As if John could see what he was doing. "There are currently twelve patients here, three will leave tomorrow while the others stay for a bit."
"So you're the only working here?" Gale blinks around surprised, realizing how tiring it must be, working alone in such a big place.
"Technically, yes. Sometimes my friend helps in, when he's not a major pain in the arse." Egan answers a moment later, when he stops with his muttered assurances meant to calm the cat.
"Your friend is also a vet?" He might be really slow, because only then does he realize... that means John Egan was actually Dr. John Egan. He might be as stupid as Marge always says he is.
"No. A paramedic who's not supposed to sit in that car if you ask me." Egan continues, going to see the next animal. "The bloke is a danger behind the wheel."
"How lucky he is a paramedic, then." He's mildly surprised to hear Egan's snort. He sort of gets the impression he finds everything funny. "Still, that's really impressive." He's not sure why he wants to make sure to get that statement out, but he kind of accepts the vibe of the day. Saying everything without thinking about it... Gale feels like as if he's dreaming. Maybe he is. Did he hit his head and have a concussion?
"Says you. How many Oscars do you have?" Egan's head pops out for a moment only to roll his eyes, then disappears again. "Speaking of which... Don't you need to call someone?"
"I erm. Kind of left my phone at the Hotel?" Gale gets it out quickly, as if pulling of a bandaid. He is quiet, really really hoping that Daisy would start with her hissy fit again but the clinic remains awfully quiet. And so he hears the exact moment his sentence registers to Egan because he hisses in surprise.
"You did what?" This time he shows up, and doesn't bother locking the door behind him. Slowly a cat appears between his legs, which distracts Gale enough to smile. As Egan takes a step again, his knee cracks and he winces slightly. "And how did you manage that, exactly?"
Gale watches his knee silently, a hundred different theories filling his head. Old injury, maybe?
"I left my phone because I didn't want them to follow me." The look on John's face is the darkest he's seen ever since meeting him a few hours ago. Interesting. It kind of looks like the expression Gale expects from Benny when he finally gets back.
"So you left without saying anythin'?" He bites the end down, his accent getting ticker the angrier he is. "Do you even realize how dangerous that is?"
"Save it, I know already." And Gale really did, since the moment he took a step outside without his bodyguard. But he wanted to feel free, he wanted to feel bold, he wanted to...feel. "Why do you even care?" How long they have known each other, two hours?
"Because you're a person? Nobody deserves that."
"Okay."
"Walking 'round in a hoodie like that's gunna hide ya?" The scowl on Egan's face is broken up by the meowing cat by his legs, he quickly bends down to grab him. "There are people out there who want to bloody murder you, Gale. Why would you even try that?"
"I just wanted to get away, okay?" Gale feels his temper rush out like a tidal wave, filling him up to the brim. "For one fucking night I wanted to get away from the pretentious fuckers that live in that building, who all have cameras coming out their noses, John. I feel like I'm a zoo animal when I'm there. So excuse me if I wanted to walk around London for an afternoon, because there's never time to actually see the cities I 'visit'."
They slowly blink at each other, too surprised to say anything. John seems to be holding his breath while Gale's lungs just stop functioning. How... Why would he even say that? Why couldn't he just stick to the smile and say everything was alright? He is media trained, since he was twelve years old. He waits for the axe to fall, the cruel twist of Egan's mouth when he turns on him. It never comes.
Instead he just keeps looking at him, as if he were the most fascinating thing in the world. As if he was one of his precious animals. Gale looks away, releasing his fists as he tries to let go. Any minute now, he would be asked to leave. He would. He would do that gladly... If not for the feeling that he shouldn't. Somehow, something in him prevents him from that.
"Alright." John says eventually, the cat still tucked under his chin purring loudly as he stroked his fur with strong fingers.
"That's it?" He stares at him suspiciously, and the man smiles.
"You want to see London?" He steps closer, and Gale straightens in his half laying position.
"Yes?" Gale almost jumps off the bed when Egan practically drops the cat in his hands. Slightly nervous about the animal in his lap, he shifts his arms so he could pet him.
"That's Churchill, by the way. Very nice cat." John turns around, going back to work. "Works in nursing homes and hospitals 'round here."
"Nursing homes?" Gale asks absent mindedly, entirely fascinated with how Churchill leans into his hands.
"Old people need company and who better than grumpy old cats?" That sounds like a moderately horrible idea but who is he to judge. Scratching behind the cats ears he enjoys the purrs, as Churchill settles down in his lap, his paws resting on his chest. Gale supresses a yawn before letting his eyes roam over the place.
"So you did this all alone?" Somehow he finds it equally impossible and impressive, imagining buying a house and building a world like this from nothing.
The truth is in the details as Rosie always says, Gale can't help but look for those clues in everything he does. Body language, hidden tells, decorations and accessories always tell him more about the person than anything that comes out of their mouths. The whole animal hospital was just pouring out those signs, as if it was screaming in his face to pay attention. It's clear to him just how much time Egan spent working on making it comfortable for the animals, the aura of the whole place overwhelming him in a good way.
"I had my mates to help me." Comes the answer not long after, pulling his attention back to the animals. Gale sees a cat looking at him from behind the grid, entirely too cute and small for him not to react. Just as he's about to melt from the sight of the kitty, Egan appears again, catching the look on his face. "Oh, don't be fooled. Winston is an apex predator."
"That's Winston?" Funnily enough, the first question that pops into his mind is 'who is naming all these cuties?' and the second... Daisy is afraid of a cat not bigger than his palm?
"Aye." He can't help but think about pirates the moment it leaves the stranger's mouth, then tries to supress his smile. "What?"
"'Wot'?" Gale mocks his accent light heartedly, enjoying the way it paints a smile on John's face. "Nothing. I just can't believe Daisy is afraid of a little dust bunny."
"Winston is the king of this jungle, we've all learned the hard way." The vet smiles down at the kitty, forgetting about their whole situation for a moment. "He's vicious."
"He's a kitty."
"All the same." As he steps to the counter, he grabs various bags and boxes from the cabinets, balancing right to left as his two hands move in two directions. Not one drop spills over no matter how fast Egan pours different foods, and soon there are at least eight different bowls full of meat and powders sitting in front of him.
"Ever thought about changing professions?" Gale lets it escape his mouth, the calming effect of the place taking over. "You're insanely good at that."
"We haven't known each other for three hours and you're already asking me to quit my job. How delightful." John throws him a smirk over his shoulder before grabbing two plates, sliding them into the first kennels there.
"I meant... Whatever."
"What do you see me as?"
"It's fine."
"Come on, Cleven. I need to know now, my future is calling my name."
"And you still can't hear it?" He purses his lips, earning a chuckle from John. "What a shame."
"Stop being such a wanker and tell me."
"I know that word, you're not very nice."
"I'm always nice." Egan takes his last turn, putting a bowl infront of a very loud Winston before turning again. Gale can't stop the weird flip his heart makes inside his chest. Maybe he should see a doctor. "So what do you see me as? Magician? I'll have you known I'm a proud alumnus of Hogwarts." Maybe it's the pride in his eyes or the weirdly puffed up chest, but it gets a good laugh out of Gale. Before he could realize how weird that is for him, his mouth opens.
"Let me guess, Hufflepuff?" It comes out sharper than he intends, and somehow John's smile widens.
"What gave it away, the animals or the most handsome smile you've ever seen?" The glare he sends the idiot's way doesn't deter him one bit as he grins.
"Well, certainly not in the way you call innocent strangers 'wankers'."
"Stop, the judgement is practically pouring off of ya. Let me guess, Griffindor?" John whispers the end as if it was a secret, the sarcastic glint in his eyes taking away the edge of his words.
"I'm a Thunderbird if you must know." Gale references to the American wizarding school, raising his chin high. It doesn't register how weird that must sound like, he's too submerged in the conversation to notice it.
"A real fan I see." He seems impressed, which leaves a drunk like feeling lingering in his head.
For a moment nothing happens. There's a silence between them but there's no tension that accompanies it, which is odd. Gale can't remember a time when he hasn't felt tense with anyone outside his chosen circle. As he watches this stranger, he realizes three things. For one, there's still a stupid smile on his lips, one that reached into him, unlocking a knot there which he hasn't been able to access in years. Two, despite his previous nervousness and his usual paranoia, he feels more curious than ever about this man, which he finds a little problematic.
And three...Churchill has been chewing on his hoodie the whole time, which fills him with feigned indignation rather than genuine anger. What is happening to him?
John will die a slow, agonizing death. Looking at the man sitting in his chair, he is sure of that. There was a moment before, when he located his phone under all those boxes and he... He feels like a right tosser. He almost sent that text off. Jo will murder him the moment she gets her hands on him, but that won't matter. Because he spent three hours with Gale bloody Cleven. He'll be lying in that coffin himself if he stays a few more hours.
The moment the front door slammed shut he was pissed, started yelling before he got a good look at the man. He was so sure it was Curt trying to fuck his bloody lock up that John was ready to throw hands. He recognized him instantly. It was not even challenging.
That strong jaw, parted lips and golden locks peeking out from under his hat practically screamed at him for fucks sake. Seeing the Gale Cleven draped up on his door was not something he envisioned himself living through on an ordinary wednesday. Then again it has been such a long day John was sure he was seeing things. Curt was right, he really lost the plot this time.
He was leaning back against the door, watching him in horror as if he believed that staying motionless would make John go away. It reminded him of a cornered and scared animal, which was a direct line to his heart. He wanted to pummel those crazy twats to the ground, which was an absolutely over the top reaction from him. He needed to get his breathing under control, just like how Jo taught him.
So the next few minutes he spent with trying to calm Gale down. It wasn't so different from the tactics he used on his cats as he thought.. Pretending not to care about his presence, watching him from the corner of his eyes. It was a tried and tested method.
He also would've been a terrible vet if he didn't immidiately lock onto the fact that he was limping. Gale Cleven seemed like a sneeze away from having a panic attack, but he also needed that ice. So up close John could see his eyes perfectly, the most beautiful sky blue eyes he's ever seen.
With every passing moment he had to remind himself not to overwhelm him, not to scare him away. He wanted to be a pleasant memory from London, however brief it would be. The answers and reactions he was getting didn't really help. Not at all. John's heart was practically doing sommersaults in his chest at the sight of Churchill being curled up with Gale in his armchair. Every time Gale smiled the circulation in his brain short-circuited.
All he had to remind himself was not to be too much, like he always was. It was like a mantra, running around his head unrestricted.
And so John watches him for a moment more, while his brain still tries to catch up to the fact that Gale bloody Cleven was sitting in his armchair. This was torture. But looking at the small smile still playing on his lips, John has to admit waht sweet torture it is.
"So no mobile, I gathered." Gale looks up at him with a sheepish smile. Lord have mercy. "Real clever, might I add."
"Shut up, it seemed like a good idea at the time." The quick answer makes him smile, just because Gale's attention is so far away it must've been an honest one.
"Right. Let me find my phone." Even if he wants to chuck his phone out the window, never to find it again. How many years would he get in jail if he held a person hostage? And if the person didn't know he was held hostage? His head hurts. This is why he doesn't bother with people. Until they literally fall through his door and their name is Gale Cleven.
He finds his phone surprisingly quickly, and he curses himself for not losing it again. Rubbing his eyes he tries to rid himself of the horrible ideas, blaming it all on the long day. He really needs to sleep. Fuck, his knee was killing him. Grabbing onto the shelf beside the door he waits until the stabbing pain subsides. If he could, he would cut off his own leg if it meant getting rid of that fucking knee.
Moving back into the room he sees Gale holding Churchill in front of him, having a serious stare down. It does something to his heart, seeing the cat treading his face softly with his paws. Fuck he is so dead.
"Here." He reaches the mobile, ignoring the want in him to crash it.
"Thank you." John turns his back to him with Churchill in his arms, walking him back to his kennel.
Jo will kill him for not telling her about Gale fucking Cleven wandering into his clinic. Curt will laugh himself hoarse even before he hears the full story. John doesn't even want to know what Brady would say, for fuck's sake. He doesn't need it.
"Alright love, there you go." John smooths the edges of the new bandage that he replaced over the scars, Tessa wags her tail in response. Stepping out of the kennel he shuts the door behind him, trying to ignore the mumbling coming from the back of the room.
The sound of someone standing up is harder to ignore, so John raises his head. The guy will really kill him with his shy smile, a flicker of a thing that wasn't really there. It was in the corner of Gale's mouth, as if it was hiding from the world. John saw it however.
"I'll get going I guess." Gale stands there awkwardly for a moment, before handing over the melted ice pack. "Thank you for this. And the time away from the apocalypse."
"Any time." John answers truthfully. "Please don't leave your bodyguard behind next time, though."
"I know." Even if the eye roll implied otherwise, the honesty in his voice stayed. "Sorry to have bothered you."
"You weren't bothering." He really doesn't know what happened to the carefree, easy air between them that was there the whole time.
John can't stand the awkwardness almost as much as he can't stand Gale's leaving. Something in his chest pulls, but he can't let it get it's way. Not now, not ever.
"If you're ever on the other side of London... I need to thank you somehow." The media trained smile on Gale's face ruins everything that comes out of his mouth, and John's mood sours. He wants to grab him by the shoulders and shake him until he found the real Gale inside. Not the one standing infront of him.
"No need, but cheers."
They stay silent the whole way, those few metres seeming farther away than before. By the chairs Gale grabs his hat, looks around for what must be the last time. John can't read his face, as if he has retreated behind a wall that no one can penetrate. It's odd, seeing him like this after encountering the real Gale Cleven. He almost dies with the need to ask him about it, to crack a joke or grab him by the hand to see if he could get him back. But he can't and he won't.
"You... You know London pretty well, no?" Gale turns with his hand on the handle. John wants to freeze this moment, that new expression on his face he can't comprehend yet.
"I do."
"I really don't." That is pretty obvious, as he stated it before. John waits for the rest of that sentence before opening his mouth. "But I want to. I wasn't lying when I said I never see the cities I 'visit'." There's a bitterness in his voice, directed at whom John is not sure. "Could you... show me around?"
The surprise must be evident on his face because Gale blushes, looking away nervously. John's heart decide to have a heart attack right then and there, as it tries to jump out of his chest.
"Sorry I just... I have no friends here, nobody that knows the city. I thought maybe with a local we could avoid the crowds but.. God, sorry." It was just about the most adorable thing John has ever seen. He isn't sure what he was expecting when meeting Gale in real life, but a shy, nervous wreck wasn't it. He wouldn't trade it for the world.
"I... I'd really like to, Gale. But I have work and..."
He never felt worse in his entire life. Ever. Never in his right mind did he ever think that he would reject a friendship offer from Gale bloody Cleven. John always thought he was clever. He doesn't feel like it, at that moment. He doesn't have a choice though, not when there were countless surgeries lined up for him in the next few days. Not when there were lives depending on him, with cute whiskers and big eyes with all the trust in them aimed at him.
"Yeah, sorry. I totally forgot this must be a normal work day for you. Shit." Gale shakes his head as if he was disappointed in himself, and John wants to grab him by the shoulders.
"There are like... four new animals coming in tomorrow and I really have to be..."
"I know, I'm sorry."
"No, I'm sorry." Why why why didn't he spend his childhood learning how to deal with suffering from his own actions? John always welcomed them, whether it was a broken arm or a fight. He never, ever let it touch him. Not like how this was pulling at his soul.
As Gale opens the door John realises how late it actually is, the darkness broken only by the street lights. He looks around nervously.
"Is there someone coming for you?" He frowns, knowing bloody well how dangerous this city was.
"I'll be fine, I remember the way." Gale smiles tightly.
For a moment they look at each other and forget about everything. The whole meeting was like an out-of-body experience for John, who could never calm himself quite as well as the presence of the blonde did. It was as if they forgot about the whole world the moment they met. Forgot that one of them was a worldwide known actor while the other a no name vet. How could they forget about it so quickly John could never understand.
"Fuckin' hell." John muttered, earning a small smile from Gale. "Stick to the main streets. Don't stop."
"It's not like I'm in New York." Gale rolls his eyes, the smile from before appearing for a moment. What a shame he woud be killed tonight, John thinks as he glares at him without blinking. "Alright, I'll get going. Thank you, John."
John accepts the hand he reaches, ignoring the electricity that runs through him the moment their fingers meet. They shake hands while John fights every nerve in his body that wants to pull him back inside and barricade the door. Stupid, stupid man.
"Take care." He says only, slowly closing the door as Gale turns.
It takes two minutes. His whole resistance crumbles in two minutes after the man disappears from his sight. John feels crazy as he runs to the other side of the hallway, almost ripping the door off it's hinges before taking the steps two at the time. What a fucking twat he is.
The line rings two times before a cheerful voice chimes in.
"Bonsoir, cher Monsieur!"
"I need your help, Jo."
"What happened?" Her voice turns serious the moment he doesn't answer in French, her accent getting ticker with worry. "Are you alright?"
"Yeah, cheers. I need you here at the clinic. Now." Grabbing the first T-shirt he finds John puts her on speaker while stripping of his scrubs.
"What?"
"I need to step out, you have to get here in a few minutes Jojo. Please."
"You never say please, what's happening?" But he can hear her moving around her small apartment, and so he keeps quiet. Finding a not so dirty looking jeans is a quest but he manages, hopping on one leg when he gets stuck.
"I just need to leave. For a few hours."
"For a few... Are you...? John Clarence Egan, are you going on a date?" For a moment he freezes between putting on shoes and grabbing his wallet.
"No!" Definently too quick and too defensive. Jo, like a hound that has caught a scent howles with laughter.
"Sure, sure. Bucky I can't believe it. Who's the lucky woman?" Grabbing his keys he puts the phone back to his ear, tossing his jacket over his shoulders.
"Stop."
"I'm just happy for you, chérie. You love your animals more than people, so I was a little afraid you might end up alone."
"I would never be alone with you here." John answers annoyed, locking the door to his apartment behind him. "Just get here you femme folle."
"Love you too."
He might be losing his mind. No, he definently was losing his mind. Never in his right mind would John choose a stranger over his babies. Still, that's exactly what he does as he locks the front door and takes off into the night. But John has been crazy for years now, ever since he saw those sky blue eyes and perfect blonde locks. He tries to convince himself it's nothing, that the pull in his chest is just excitement to hang out with a celebrity but he doesn't believe it himself.
It takes him two corners to catch up to Gale. Another second to grab his attention. When those eyes find his in the dark, he knows just exactly how crazy he is.
'Cause God knows I fall in love just a little, oh, a little bit
Every day with someone new