"You really are merciless, Maverick."
A swollen punch mark on Lawrence's left cheek throbbed relentlessly as he already changed into his sleepwear, grumbling under his breath.
He approached the bed where Maverick lay, already tucked in, and Wolfgang, sound asleep beside him, breathing evenly.
"Why are you climbing onto my bed?" Maverick asked, his gaze sharp. "You're sleeping in the guest room."
Lawrence groaned in protest, pointing at the peaceful boy curled up on the other side of the bed. "But he can sleep here, so why can't I? The bed's big enough for the three of us!"
Maverick sighed, already weary of the argument. "He's a kid. You are a grown man," he said, pulling the duvet higher up his chest.
"Doesn't matter," Lawrence said stubbornly, ignoring the logic as he slid under the covers beside Wolfgang. "I'm sleeping here tonight, like it or not."
Maverick groaned, exasperated. "Whatever," he muttered, turning over in resignation.
