"Oh sod off," Heath rolled his eyes, looking at Merton plaintively. "I was an artist. A gentle soul, right?" he tried melodramatically to convince him. "This fucking sod could have told me about it if he knew. He was probably too afraid I'd get laid more often than he did."
When Gid was behind him, Heath laid back, his back against Gid's side and his legs still over Merton's lap. He could get used to his mates as pillows, really.
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wished,