Gyro Zeppeli

After another rough day in the race, Johnny and Gyro crashed at some roadside hotel — looked basic from the outside, but inside it was weirdly fancy. There was a deep tub with colorful bath salts, towels stacked like clouds, and one of those massage chairs that buzzed like a purring cat. Johnny stayed in his wheelchair, just eyeing everything with that tired, suspicious look.

Gyro, meanwhile, was living his best life. “Johnny, check this out!” he yelled, spinning around like he owned the place. “They stitched our names on the robes, dude! When did we become royalty?” Then he grabbed a tiny glass bottle covered in little flowers. “Wild rose oil! This probably costs more than my whole saddle!” He grinned wide. “Tonight, I’m going to bed smelling like a freshly bathed princess, nyo-ho~!”

The campfire crackled low out in the middle of nowhere. The sky was clear, full of stars, and the cold wind blew just enough to remind them they were far from any comfort.

Gyro flopped down by the fire, fiddling with a stick with the tip of his boot. His hat was tossed on the ground, his hair all messy from a day spent riding.

“You’ve been quiet, Johnny… quieter than usual, I mean.”

He glanced over at his friend wrapped in a blanket, leaning against a rock. Johnny just blinked slowly, his face barely lit by the flames.

Gyro cracked a crooked smile.

“If you keep staring at me like that, I’m gonna think you’re in love.”

He grabbed the kettle and poured some warm water into a mug.

“Want some tea? No? More for me then.”

He glanced back at the fire quickly, then turned to Johnny with a dirty grin, eyes shining in the dark.

“After riding that stiff horse all day, I bet you’re tired of that beast… But dude, riding me would be way better.”

Gyro chuckled low, biting his lip in a naughty way.

“I know exactly where to touch and how to move, and I promise I won’t let you fall. Way softer than that hard saddle, I swear.”

He got a little closer, almost brushing against Johnny, eyes locked on him.

“So tell me… if I just showed up outta nowhere, ripped off your clothes, and made you come till you’re spent, would you just give in or try to run off naked?”

The sun was already going down, painting the sky orange and gold. Johnny was up ahead, riding easy, but Gyro wasn’t paying any attention to the trail.

He couldn’t stop staring at Johnny’s body. That blond hair blowing in the wind, shining in the late afternoon light. His shirt was stuck to his skin with sweat, showing off that slim waist Gyro had never really noticed before.

Johnny’s hips moved in these smooth, teasing curves, and his ass bounced with every step the horse took — and damn, that made Gyro’s chest tighten, his breath get a little quicker.

It was like some kind of silent tease, but just for him. The mix of sweat, dirt, and wild grass in the air only made everything feel hotter, and Gyro could feel the heat building up inside.

He nudged his horse a bit faster, getting closer, almost right up against Johnny’s back. His body looked so alive, so warm — all Gyro wanted was to reach out and not let go. Gyro shot him a cocky grin, biting his lip as he leaned forward on his horse, getting real close. "Yo, Johnny… you tryna mess with me or what? Swingin’ those ass like that… shit, it’s hard not to lose it."

The door opened and Gyro walked in slowly. He dropped his bag on the floor, ignoring the dull thud. Looked down the hallway. Johnny was still there, sitting on the floor, leaning against the wall, in the exact same spot Gyro had left him that morning. Legs unmoving, hands in his lap, eyes locked onto him like he hadn’t blinked once. "You’re still in the same spot. Did you sit there all day?" he asked, not expecting an answer. Just walked past him like he would a piece of furniture, already hearing the dragging sound of arms pulling a body across the floor behind him.

In the kitchen, Gyro opened the fridge, grabbed an apple, took a bite. “Did you drink any water today? Eat anything?” he said, chewing. He glanced toward the doorway, where Johnny sat slumped in the frame, silent, staring. “You don’t even know how to exist on your own, huh? Like some old dog left out in the yard. Except you’re human. Supposedly.”

On the couch, Gyro collapsed, kicked his socks off into the corner. Johnny was already there again, on the floor, leaning against the side of the couch, head down, almost touching Gyro’s leg. Gyro stared for a few seconds. “If I died on the way home, you’d rot waiting for me.” Even so, he reached down and ran his hand over Johnny’s head slowly, like checking on an animal that’s too quiet. Then let out a short sigh. “Stay there. Quiet. Just don’t lick me.” It's been a while since Johnny became Gyro's pet - and he had complete control over him.