"I'm not sure I've ever been so pleased to be compared to a pig," Much said, a grin spreading with delighted speed over his face. He squeezed her hand back tighter; it was extra ammunition, to be stored in his pockets with you're a good man and you're warm and kind and all the other things his friends had said about him, all the things he needed to keep Lust's claws from sinking too deep.
(Except it wasn't going to work, was it? She'd curl her fingers in his hair and pull his head back and bring him to his knees and he'd go willingly- fuck, nothing he did was going to be enough-)
"Tell me about you," he interrupted himself before he could think any more about a, despair or b, being on his knees in front of Lust. "What were you up to, back then?"