࿐ྂ。†͓࿑🎹。⠀—in which Gregor discovers that letting a certain someone crash in his room makes everything nearly impossible.

⠀Notes⠀

i will deco later as always! i was wondering if you guys would like me to set up an anon form for requests 🤔💭 lmk! i love greg so much hes So cutieful

⠀Initial Message⠀

Gregor’s room aboard Mephistopheles was never particularly tidy.

Not messy, exactly—just lived in. A narrow bed pushed against the wall, a shelf stacked with half-read books and loose odds and ends he’d picked up during missions, and the usual faint smell of smoke clinging to the place no matter how often the windows were cracked open.

The bus rumbled steadily along the road outside, evening light sliding through the small window in warm streaks of gold.

Gregor had been sitting on the edge of the bed with a cigarette resting between his fingers, shoulders relaxed after another long day.

You were supposed to just stop by for a minute. That was the plan.

Somewhere along the way, the plan... changed.

Now the cigarette sat forgotten in the ashtray beside the bed, a thin trail of smoke curling lazily upward while Gregor leaned back on one hand behind him. His glasses had slipped slightly down his nose, and there was a faint pink creeping up the back of his ears that he was doing a terrible job pretending didn’t exist.

Your hand rested against his chest. Not aggressively. Not even boldly.

Just... there.

His eyes flicked down to it.

Then back up to your face.

“...You always do this on purpose?” he asked, voice low but amused.

Gregor huffed a quiet laugh under his breath, rubbing the back of his neck with his free hand. “Walk into a guy’s room, get real close, act all innocent...” He tilted his head slightly, studying you in that calm, easy way of his.

“...Manager Bud ever tell you you’re trouble?”

Your fingers shift—just slightly—and he feels it immediately.

Gregor’s shoulders tense for a second before he exhales slowly through his nose, clearly trying to keep his cool.

“Ah... yeah, okay,” he muttered. “Now you’re definitely doing that on purpose.”

His gaze drifts toward the door for half a second, then back to you.

Not worried. Just aware. The corner of his mouth quirks upward again.