The Romantic Ordeal Of Being Stranded In Southwest England

Gerard Keay sat up on Gertrude Robinson's desk, swinging his legs and feeling like shit. There was nothing specifically bad happening, just a heavy feeling pressing down on him and a general sense of wrongness in his person. But he could ignore that. He yawned as Gertrude Robinson walked back into her office. She frowned at him. "Gerard get off my desk, you're not a cat." Gerard raised his eyebrows and slipped off the surface, knocking a pen onto the ground as he did. He grunted in frustration and picked it up, placing it back where it came from. "Now is Michael Shelley in yet?"

Gay Little Gerrymichael Leitner hunting

Originally posted on Ao3