#again. this is speaking for johnny and anteros and my canon

[whoredmode]

On Johnny and Anteros

like i was saying. i’ve been working on something.

There's something inside Johnny and Anteros’ dynamic that has plagued me for the longest time, an element of their relationship that I just haven’t been able to put into words. It, to an extent, can be said of Anteros and his dynamics with other men from SR1 (Dex and Troy), but the key difference here is that Johnny and Anteros never develop any sort of romantic feelings for each other. That, despite everything, the love itself is rooted in friendship. Perhaps something almost fraternal. This feeling being the expression of love and masculinity. 

As I said, this feeling can be seen in Anteros’ relationships with Dex and Troy in SR1/SR2. The walls begin to crumble between the respective partners because of mutual romantic feelings, though each held back by particular hurdles of the time (for Dex, period-typical homophobia and his own closeted feelings keep the two from being as open as they could be, instead left to love each other behind closed doors. Not to mention Dex’s growing feelings of envy towards Anteros for becoming what is essentially Julius’ favorite, a title he’d long been working for and felt most deserving of. For Troy, his own feelings of guilt and inadequacy, as well as fear that Anteros does not reciprocate keeps him from initially moving forward, only reaching their climax after a particular practice fight in the abandoned theater lot. Perhaps the fights were only a means to touch him). But I'll be here all day if I sit down and dissect those two dynamics (though I'd happily do so if anyone wanted to hear about that).

This is about Johnny and Anteros. This is about a man open about his love for other men, his love for his friends, his own relationship with masculinity and femininity. This is about a man who introduces himself by describing his cock, a man who channels his feelings into violence, a man who will never get over the death of his wife (of which he blames himself and the Saints for). 

What do you do when you have all these feelings but no outlet for them? When faced with the one person you wanna confide in, you instead find yourself held back by your own self-doubt and adherence to masculine social norms? In the most basic sense, Johnny and Anteros do not speak the same language. The “I love yous” are only ever said when the other isn’t listening, when the other cannot understand. They do not and maybe will never express their love for each other in a way that makes sense to the other. 

So instead Johnny and Anteros will find themselves in a constant push and pull. They fumble through the motions, doing what they can and hoping the vague conversations can get across what they mean. Johnny’s outlet for his feelings is violence; he struggles to be emotionally open like Anteros is. Violence will give you an end result. Talking about things, as far as he can tell, won’t change anything. He can’t wear his heart on his sleeve like Anteros can. In the same vein, Anteros can’t hide his feelings no matter how hard he might try. He will tell his life story to a stranger. 

The Boss and Johnny Gat are mirrors of each other. And when they look into that mirror, when they look within that reflection, they become more aware of their own faults. 

“The Saints failed me. They failed Aisha. I failed her.” 

“How could I be the leader of the Saints? I’m just some stripper who walked on the wrong street corner.” 

How do you express that when you’ve spent your whole life putting up the mask of machismo, of being the indestructible magnet of power that is Johnny Gat? As Anteros, how do you express that to the one person whose opinion you want most of all, to the person who’s been by your side the longest yet still feels a million miles away? The connections they make will always be fragile. Anyone could die tomorrow. Both understand this well. But neither wants to be alone.

Perhaps the great irony, the echo to Johnny’s toughness, is that Anteros fears appearing weak to Johnny. He needs to be the boss for the Saints. He needs to be the boss for Johnny. 

In many ways, at one point in time, Johnny and Anteros were each other’s last friend in the world. Close enough to comfort. And to hurt. 

We see how Anteros’ decisions weigh down on Johnny as time goes on. During the events and ending of the LoP Story and through the beginnings of SRTT, we see how Anteros changes and how it impacts the people around him. None more so than Johnny. Shaundi and Pierce can adapt. Johnny cannot—in this way once again mirroring Anteros as we knew him in SR2. They are men both haunted by their respective pasts, unable to let go of certain events and people and times. What do you do when you can’t express that to your only friend left in the world? How do you tell him he’s changed? What do you say when the reflection in the mirror is unrecognizable? So many of their actions are rooted in this desire to reach out to the other in the only way they know how, trying to prove to each other that they are what’s worth fighting for, worth loving, that they know they need each other. Johnny is more than capable of showing love. Anteros is more than capable of showing his strength. But they’ve locked themselves in this stalemate, this impasse in which showing vulnerability, insecurity to the other is unthinkable. They need to be strong for the other’s sake. Failure for Johnny manifests as guilt and aggression. Failure for Anteros manifests as humiliation and grief. 

Maybe there isn’t one grand conclusion to it all. As the years go on, as they experience more tragedy and joy together, perhaps the barriers begin to fall gradually. As they hit their 40s in the modern day, I find myself thinking about how similar they’ve grown to be by that point, both bored by the lack of excitement in their lives now that the Saints have a steady hold over Stilwater. In recent years, they’ve found themselves genuinely confiding in each other about that, spending more time together one-on-one, reenergizing the friendship and brotherhood that started all those years ago in 2006. 

I just find it interesting is all. Examining male friendships and love under the expectations of manhood, comparing it to the expression of feelings in romantic relationships. How it impacts them both.

Johnny and Anteros need each other in a way so uniquely theirs that I’ve found it so hard to explain for so long. Maybe I’ve gotten those feelings across. Maybe not—the latter being the more apt answer, ironically.