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gyro z. | morosexual

gyro zeppeli

M   O   R   O

S E X U A L   .

somewhere in the middle of the american wildlands. 1891

       Exhausted. Famished. Thirsty. You were miserable as you trailed just behind your two companions. "Oi, do you two plan on taking a break soon? The sun is already going down," you whined, barely able to keep yourself awake as the three of you continued on across the midwestern plains.

       Johnny sighed. "Y/n is right. We need to rest so we can get a headstart the moment the sun starts to come up."

       "Because I swear, if we pass by one more viable camping spot, I'll kneecap the both of you."

       "I mean... okay?" Johnny agreed sarcastically.

       "I'll shatter those elbows then, Joestar, since you wanna be a smart ass."

       "I'd gladly be kneecapped by you, amore. I'd thank you even. Can you step on my neck after as well?"

       "Gyro. What the fuck is wrong with you?" Johnny deadpanned.

       "Look at the bright side, Johnny: I can't damage his brain any more than it already is."

       "I love the way you think, carina."

       You shook your head and focused on getting to a decent rest stop.

       "I think we can stop just up there," Gyro noted less than ten minutes later.

       The three of you pulled your horses to rest under a small plateau. You hardly had the energy to lay out your bedroll and help Gyro with Johnny's things so he took over and helped you both. You wasted no time in burrowing into your bedroll, ready as ever for sleep. However, something was nagging at the back of your mind.

       "Hey, Gyro...?" you called out quietly.

       "Hm?" he hummed in response, his eyes closed.

       What were you doing? This is so asinine, you thought to yourself. But. You asked anyway. "Can you do the thing again? The... the mozzarella... thing..."

       This got his eyes to open. "'The Cheese Song?'"

       "Yeah, sure. That. Ca– Can you do it again?"

       "Didn't I say I would only do it once? Pretty sure that's what I said..." he teased.

       "Well, how is it supposed to be a hit in Europe if you never perform it, huh?"

       "Why the hell do you wanna hear it so bad, anyway? You didn't seem to like it as much as Johnny did."

       "Well? What did you think, Y/n?"

       "Hm?" She finally focused on him as he brought her out of her thoughts. Both he and Johnny were watching her, but Gyro had an over-joyously expectant expression as he waited for an answer. "Mmmmmm, yeah... yes," you unintentionally partially replied, thinking there was a yes or no question. Quickly, you added, "It was... great. I liked the, um... that first part. The Tower of Pisa part?"

       "Pizza mozzarella?"

       "Yes! Sure. That. That... what you just said," you said distractedly with a dorky grin.

       When the two of them were out of earshot of Gyro, Johnny leaned over to her. "Don't worry. You didn't miss much. The song was stupid, but I humored him. It makes him happy."

       "I... I was distracted, okay!"

       "By what?" he pushed, grinning even bigger.

       "N– None of your goddamn business, that's what!"

       "Was it... me?" You could hear the smirk in his tone.

       You flopped to your other side, facing away from him. "Fuck off, Zeppeli! I don't even wanna hear the stupid song anymore!"

       "Pizza... mozza... rella..." he began to sing softly and horrendously out of tune, inching closer. You groaned and pulled your sleeping bag tighter around yourself. You heard him move closer until you felt him hovering over you. "Pizza... mozzarella..."

       "I told you I don't care about your moronic song anymore," you muttered half-heartedly, rolling onto your back to look up at him.

       "Rella... rella... rell— MGH!" Gyro was taken aback by your lips against his. Before he could respond and kiss you back, you pulled away. "What was that for?"

       "Because you wouldn't shut up!" you huffed.

       "I meant why did you stop, dummy?"

       "Leave me alone."

       "Did my song... turn you on?"

       Your eyes damn near rolled into the back of your head. "The only thing dumber than your stupid cheese song is the insinuation that I'm aroused by your stupid cheese song!"

       "Gorgonzola... zola... zola..." he continued, clearly relishing in making you squirm. You growled, putting your hands over your ears. "Oh. That was kinda hot, Y/n/n," he told you before resuming his tone deaf singing. "Zola, zola, zola..."

       "Right, this is the shit I can't stand, Gyro."

        "What's that, amore?" his smirk never fading.

       "You're not just stupid. You're confident in your stupid," you sighed amorously as you positioned yourself on top of him.

       "I knew you were into it. Nyo-ho-ho," he chuckled, flashing his golden grill with his name engraved on it.

       That was the final straw. You would never let a living soul hear you say it, but he might've had a point. You couldn't put your finger on it, but something about his ridiculous antics was extremely attractive to you. "God, you're an such idiot," you breathed. "Please. Just stop talking and kiss me." Gyro obliged with no hesitation.

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