"Fucking slander," he mumbles, but it's almost a smile. It takes effort, and more pain, but he manages to roll onto his stomach to give his screaming back a break from the pressure and textures. His arm stays flopped off the bed, fingers brushing Jacobi's blanket. But he lets himself slip back into exhaustion, his next words a trailing mumble. "'m a bloody gentleman..."
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"Last one. Promise." Then he'll leave you to wallow, Jacobi, he just has to know. "Who...?"
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"Want your bed back?"
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