Archive of Our Own

Seungcheol had buried more people than the population of several villages combined.

At least, that was his estimation a few years ago. As time went by, he stopped counting the total. He merely jotted down the names of his victims—could he call them victims?—in his leatherbound ledger. He kept the ledger closely tucked on the inside of his jacket, with a pen looped against the spine. It made it more efficient whenever he had spare time between murders.

Writing their names began as an act of comfort—a symbol of reassurance that these were very bad people, that the very names that he had penned were the same ones that tainted newspaper headlines and television broadcasts with additional words of hitmen, conmen, corrupt politicians, dirty businessmen, and the like. But then it transformed into a symbol of sin. Of crime, of wrong, of a remarkable talent with knives and a thirst to get the job done. It had been weighing on him more and more, with every life he took.

He started to realize that something was wrong when he ran out of pages in his ledger. Two hundred pages of cream paper, filled with every person he killed in his lifetime. The ones that he did at the tender age of twelve, all the way till he was twenty-seven. He cursed as he squeezed the last name on the last straight line, debating whether or not to return the ledger to its usual place in his pocket or to throw it down the river.

Something had to change, hadn’t it? Could he continue living like this? Murder after murder, for what?

For the money? He had plenty of it now.

For the satisfaction? It lost its spark about forty kills ago. Then, it just became a chore.

For the pride? He had already made a name for himself in the underworld. The Raven, they called him, whispered in fear and agony. A fitting name for a representation of loss and bad omen.

For the admiration? He occasionally stumbled upon inexperienced hitmen in several of his jobs. They all praised his technique, his speed, his camouflage. He felt nothing from their saccharine words.

He found his answer when he saw the life drained out of a contessa, his thick fingers wrapped around her dainty neck in a bed of velvet and diamonds, somewhere in Eastern Europe.

For the emptiness. That was what this was for.

Because emptiness was all he had known in his life.

He jumped from place to place. He couldn’t stand staying in one city for too long. One week was pushing it, two weeks were maximum, and three weeks were sloppy. It was Ljubljana’s turn now, as he nursed a glass of whiskey in a secluded bar near the forestline. The liquid heated him up from the inside, but somehow, it missed the spot on his chest, against which his ledger was pressed.

Ten minutes later, his ears perked up. He heard them before he saw them. Three tall, burly men walking towards him in long strides. Black suits, intercom strung through, dark glasses—professional security guards, from the looks of it. Seungcheol raised a brow. He had combed through his last few hits for acquaintances-turned-threats as closely as possible, and he made the last three look like an accident, so there shouldn’t be any reason he was being chased. Yet, the three men stopped at his table and stared down at him.

“Your presence is requested in the private room upstairs,” one of them mechanically said.

Seungcheol’s brow went higher. “By whom?”

“Mr. Yoon Jeonghan.”

Seungcheol’s suspicion turned into confusion. Yoon Jeonghan was a name nobody said lightly in the underworld. He was infamous for his crime organization that spanned countries, even continents. Some even said that it was no longer an organization, but a cult, a kingdom, a dominion. He was a fearsome leader, a force to be reckoned with—the kind of person Seungcheol would either work for or avoid altogether.

Why would a high-profile king like Yoon Jeonghan look for a lowly hitman like him?

Nevertheless, Seungcheol didn’t want to end up in his ledger. He downed the last of his whiskey and followed the men upstairs.

Despite his well-founded fame, Yoon Jeonghan was extremely private. Seungcheol rarely saw pictures of him circulating amongst his contacts. Of course, that came naturally with his deadly profession. That was partially why his breath was taken away when his gaze landed on the man.

Yoon Jeonghan was, to say the least, spectacular. His shoulder-length hair, all black, framed his angular and handsome face. His eyes were those of a hawk, watching Seungcheol’s every move with a mix of curiosity and amusement. He walked with a cane, not because of an injury—as far as Seungcheol knew—but because it was his favorite weapon. Some said a sword was sheathed inside. It made Seungcheol extra careful as he stepped towards him, even though the latter was seated in a velvet chair in a luxurious lounge.

“Choi Seungcheol.” Jeonghan spoke his name. Seungcheol almost thought it sounded beautiful, coming from him.

“Yoon Jeonghan, sir.” He bowed his head slightly.

“I’ve heard of your reputation many times.” Jeonghan’s voice was soft but controlled. Seungcheol wanted him to speak continuously. “I want to recruit you. I think you can be of use to my business.”

Seungcheol tilted his head. It was exactly what he expected the king would say, but his instincts told him something was up. “What kind of services do you need me to provide?”

As Jeonghan was momentarily lost in thought, Seungcheol briefly listed all his capabilities in his head. Poisoning, kidnapping, threatening, you name it. I could do it all for you.

“I haven’t decided yet,” Jeonghan answered, and Seungcheol knew it was a lie. “But you can be a great asset. I’ll have my guards pick you up at your motel at midnight. We’ll fly to Rio in the morning.”

Jeonghan did not once ask for his consent or opinion. Seungcheol was used to bosses making commands as if he were a mere puppet, but this one was different. This time, Seungcheol felt the slightest hint of fear lodged in his chest. Perhaps it was Yoon Jeonghan’s intimidating aura, or the fact that he held the most power in this darkened world and could easily ruin his reputation or his life with a flick of his finger, or that he was staring at Seungcheol so sharply Seungcheol felt his entire soul was exposed. Whichever it was, it made Seungcheol comply.

“Yes, sir.”

“Do you have any more jobs to tend to?”

“None, sir.”

“Any more bosses you owe to?”

“Just one. Richard Smith, in London. He...” Seungcheol paused. He found me on the streets when I was ten. He gave me a purpose when I was about to give up my life. Even though it was a heinous purpose, it gave me life. “He made me who I am today.”

Jeonghan didn’t seem all too pleased about that. “How much?”

“It’s not money, sir. It’s... loyalty. He expects me to be at his beck and call no matter what other jobs I have.”

“Even highly important ones?”

“Yes, sir.”

Jeonghan nodded. “Very well. I’ll sort it out with Smith.” He glanced at his wristwatch, then nodded to his men. The matter was settled. Business had been done, and Seungcheol had a new, unexpected master. “I’ll see you in the morning.”

“Yes, thank you, sir.”

Jeonghan instructed Seungcheol to shadow every boss under his leadership. That included the boss for drugs, for money laundering, for weaponry manufacturing, for weaponry sales, and every other damned industry there was. It was unusual, nowhere near the orders he had received from his previous employers, but Seungcheol was two things: he never asked questions, and he was a fast learner. It took him only a month to master every nook and cranny of Jeonghan’s business. At least, the ones that he was allowed to see. He still didn’t know what this was all for.

Jeonghan summoned him in Bangkok. He listened to the results of Seungcheol’s learning, filled in some blanks, corrected some things that Seungcheol got wrong. Seungcheol dutifully wrote everything down in a ledger (it was new, brown this time). When he was finished, Jeonghan blew from his cigar and focused his eyes on Seungcheol.

“You learn quick. I’m impressed. Do you know why I told you to shadow everyone?”

Seungcheol turned over some potential reasons, but none stood out. “Not really, sir.”

Jeonghan’s face remained an expressionless mask. “How did you feel, seeing and learning it all?”

Seungcheol scrunched his nose slightly. Nobody, not even Smith, ever asked him about how he felt. About anything. “Horror, sir. I’m used to all this, but now I just wonder what good it does.”

“Mm. So you’re interested in making the world a better place?” questioned Jeonghan. He wasn’t being judgmental, just asking a simple question.

Seungcheol shook his head. “I’m not that ambitious or capable, sir. I just want to... start trying to be better.”

“Why?”

Seungcheol shrugged. He had been grappling with this for a while, so it was difficult to vocalize. “I killed a lot of people. I used to be okay with it. Nowadays, less so. More empty, more regret, more disgust. I guess I want to see what else I can do that’s not related to how to kill a person from A to Z.”

A smirk appeared on Jeonghan’s lips. It was the first time Seungcheol saw anything other than neutral on Jeonghan’s face. “Exactly what I thought. Tell me, you’ve been to Vienna, correct?”

Seungcheol nodded. “Many times, sir.”

“I saw you there once. Drinking, like when I hired you.” Jeonghan tapped the ash off his cigar, biding his time. “You had this look in your eye that haunted me for a while.”

Seungcheol froze. He, a nobody, could haunt someone like Yoon Jeonghan? “Sir?”

“I recognized the look immediately.” Jeonghan nodded. “Desolation. I knew because I had it, too. We are alike, you and me.”

Seungcheol swallowed. This man was unpredictable.

Yet, he would like to see where this would go.

“I have a job for you. It’s to become my CSR.”

“CSR, sir?” Seungcheol was confused. He had never heard of that before.

“Corporate social responsibility,” Jeonghan said. “Write it in your little book. Learn about it. I want to start doing some good in the world, and you’re my ticket to do that.”

So Seungcheol learned. CSR, now he knew, was basically a charity program by businesses. To make up for exploiting resources and profiting off of them, businesses designed CSR programs as a way to give back to the surrounding community and tactfully improve their reputation. CSR spanned from orphanage donations to building schools in rural areas to scholarships for the less privileged. It confused Seungcheol. How was a mafia organization, a kingdom of the underworld, supposed to do this? How was a mafia organization even considering the notion of doing CSR? It felt foreign and strange to think of it in the context of the darkened realm.

“If you already have some kind of CSR program in mind, sir,” Seungcheol said to Jeonghan during their next meeting, “Respectfully, I don’t see how my skills are able to serve the cause. I’m recruited because of my services. I don’t see how they correlate.”

Jeonghan raised a brow, and Seungcheol feared that he misspoke. “I never said I recruited you because of your services.”

“But, that is all I can do, sir—”

“I recruited you because of you,” Jeonghan said firmly. His voice was enough to shoot some intimidation into Seungcheol’s veins. “You are the asset I’m looking for. You no longer feel something for this world. So do I. We can atone together. Win-win situation.”

Seungcheol started seeing what Jeonghan meant, though it was still blurry. Jeonghan must have sensed it, because he chuckled and patted Seungcheol’s cheek.

“You’re smart, but not smart enough. Don’t worry, you look pretty when you’re confused. Come back here tomorrow and we’ll talk details.”

When Seungcheol left the room, he did something that he had never done before.

He blushed.

For “normal” businesses, CSR was often highly publicized in order to boost the companies’ good name. But for an underground business, everything was kept tightly under wraps. Seungcheol definitely knew doing CSR in the first place was unheard of for a business of this kind. Yet, Jeonghan called the shots. And the shots were, unsurprisingly, pretty good.

Jeonghan had him start with the business’ victims ledger. It was nothing like Seungcheol’s lone black notebook—it was an entire library, filled with volumes of thick books containing the details of every hit that the business had done. Pictures, history, known next of kin, crimes committed, assets, and the like. Jeonghan had him track every victim’s family or close friend and recompensate them for the victim’s death.

It was tougher than he expected. Recompensation, thanks to Jeonghan’s almost endless resources, looked different for every family. Sometimes Seungcheol wired money, sometimes he sent a deed to a new house, sometimes he gave a puppy. All was done anonymously, with no tracks or leads to him or Jeonghan or anyone involved in Jeonghan’s business. It was the first time in ages—perhaps, in his life—that he did something other than harming another individual.

It felt remarkable.

From a distance, Seungcheol saw the happy tears, the shocked smiles, and the pleasant disbelief of the family and friends on the receiving end of his actions. He saw how they were able to rebuild their life, step by step, with the gracious gifts that he provided. Sure, it wasn’t much, but it cleared his conscience bit by bit. Every strikethrough on each victim’s name no longer felt repulsive, but rewarding. Every gift slowly eased the heavy weight in his heart. Every priceless reaction made him smile like a schoolboy getting candy. Then he remembered that he had never been a schoolboy getting candy.

So, he got candy for himself. He ate it in his car with the tinted, bulletproof windows shielding him from view. Through it all, he smiled so much it hurt.

He reported every gift to Jeonghan in real time, per his instructions. That made him see Jeonghan almost every day, and he had become accustomed to Jeonghan’s moods and ways of speaking. In fact, he knew his mannerisms so perfectly now. He knew when Jeonghan was silently angry, with his tightened grip around his cane and his clouded, watchful gaze. He knew when Jeonghan was happy and satisfied, when he threw his head back in a smile that lit up Seungcheol’s heart. He knew when Jeonghan was in distress, when he sighed so much Seungcheol could see puffs of air come out from his lips. He knew everything he could see about the man, and he liked what he saw.

Perhaps a little too much.

He blamed it all on Jeonghan, actually. For making him feel better, for making him feel like a human again, instead of the shell of a killer. He blamed it on Jeonghan for being the cause of his atonement, of his good deeds in the world, no matter how small or insignificant. Sometimes their conversations bled into the night, where they shared similar stories of the terrors they had committed, of the lives they took so easily, and how they all manifested into one choking weight of sins. In those moments, Seungcheol felt seen. Seungcheol felt heard.

Seungcheol felt understood. Like never before.

And he could see, hear, and understand Jeonghan in a way that was unique and needed. He wasn’t that big on empathy, but it came so naturally with the man. Jeonghan would share how this new CSR initiative was making him feel happier and more relaxed, and he would echo the sentiment. They both felt lighter, better, with fewer nightmares haunting them at night and less guilt ripping out their hearts. These moments felt intimate, as if he and Jeonghan were the only ones left in the world. He would never dare to touch Jeonghan on purpose, but whenever Jeonghan reached out his hand or requested for a bit of a massage on his shoulders, Seungcheol would do so gladly. He would listen quietly to Jeonghan’s stories and respond without holding anything back.

“It does feel suffocating,” he hummed as his fingers rolled around Jeonghan’s shoulders. The latter was especially tense today. “But we’re doing all we can to make things better. If I may say, sir, you should be proud of yourself. It’s all your idea.”

Jeonghan hummed as he closed his eyes. “That’s nice to hear. I didn’t know a soldier could offer such comforting words.”

Seungcheol had never thought of himself as a soldier, but now that Jeonghan constantly called him that, he grew fond of the word. He was a soldier. For Jeonghan. Perhaps just for Jeonghan. “I do my best for you, sir.”

Jeonghan chuckled and tapped Seungcheol’s hands. “At ease, soldier. My shoulders feel better now.”

As Seungcheol prepared for his leave, Jeonghan stopped him. “Come with me to Paris tomorrow. We’ll fly at noon. I have a meeting with the French suppliers for our latest weaponry deal.”

Seungcheol pursed his lips. That didn’t sound like a CSR event. “Do they have victims that need help, sir?”

“No. I just like your presence these days. You should be with me more often.”

Seungcheol’s heart soared.

Well, what a soldier does, he thought, is follow commands.

It wasn’t just Paris. It was Berlin and Helsinki. Then Nairobi, Cairo, and Dodoma. Then Hanoi and Manila. It was everywhere Jeonghan went to. Seungcheol still did CSR, but accompanying Jeonghan became top priority. Jeonghan even assigned three people to help Seungcheol with CSR so that the latter would have more time to fly everywhere with him. Seungcheol wasn’t complaining. He became a bodyguard for Jeonghan. It was never explicitly said or requested—it just happened naturally. Sure, Jeonghan had his usual team of guards, but his perpetual demands to have Seungcheol be the one near him overruled the necessity of the other guards. On some trips, Seungcheol was the only security Jeonghan wanted to have around.

It was a quicker job transition for Seungcheol compared to his his gift-giving endeavors. He utilized his usual hitman skills, now with more fervor and purpose since he had someone to protect. He studied the entries and exits of every place they visited, memorized the names and associates of every drug dealer and supplier they met, and canvassed for security threats and liabilities anytime and anywhere. In some ways, this was more fulfilling than his CSR work. He did this because he wanted to protect Jeonghan. The man who had given him his mercy, his atonement, his second life.

The man he was enamored by.

He didn’t know if Jeonghan felt the same way. Sometimes, he didn’t want to know. This was enough. He never felt that he deserved love, and he certainly still didn’t deserve it now. Despite the good deeds that he had done, they weren’t enough to erase the lifetime of crimes and wrongdoings and blood. No, he still had another lifetime to go. As long as he was around Jeonghan, his heart was calm.

But many people wanted to be around Jeonghan, and sometimes Seungcheol lost his shit.

For a recluse mafia, Jeonghan loved going out. He never liked clubs or partying, but he greatly enjoyed opera, ballet, and theater. He always reserved a private box for himself and Seungcheol, but if he was in a good mood or if the situation deemed it necessary, he would invite a business partner to join him. It was always the same routine: no matter the gender, the business partner would most likely be captivated by Jeonghan. They would sneak a pet or two to his thigh, laugh a little louder, and whisper things into Jeonghan’s ear. They would ask Jeonghan out for a drink after the performance, or rope him into a discussion about other things to keep him there for a while longer.

Seungcheol would stand on the side, partially hidden by the curtains, absolutely fuming.

He might be a steadfast soldier, but he was only a man. He had devious ways to stop Jeonghan from talking too intimately with anyone else. He once spilled wine on a girl’s white dress. He twice pretended Jeonghan had an urgent call from Seoul. Many times, he ushered the person out of the theater a little too roughly.

But now, as Jeonghan was bowed closely in conversation with a middle-aged man who happened to be the most crucial Europe supplier of money-laundering machines, Seungcheol felt that those ways weren’t enough to get this slimy man off his king.

He reached a breaking point when the man caressed Jeonghan’s thigh, way too high up to be considered coy.

Seungcheol stood by a stupendously large, ceramic pot of plants in the theater box. He toyed with it for a bit. With one hard, angry push, the pot shook and toppled to the floor in a loud, reverberating bang. Dirt spilled all over the clean floor, the plants drifted away, and Jeonghan and the man jumped from their seats in surprise.

“My apologies,” Seungcheol said in satisfaction. “My hand slipped.”

The man rolled his eyes and tried to get Jeonghan’s attention back, but Jeonghan only smirked in Seungcheol’s direction and waved the man off. “I have to return to my hotel now. Thank you for the evening and I’ll see you soon.”

When the man grumbled as they parted ways, Jeonghan whispered in Seungcheol’s ear, “You’re just adorable. I might have to reward you soon.”

Seungcheol smiled widely. He could eat some candy right about now.

It definitely didn’t happen the way Seungcheol envisioned it. He had his fantasies, and most involved a heart-to-heart talk and gentle lovemaking in a sea of soft bedsheets. But Jeonghan was pissed because of a key deal falling through, and he needed to take it out on somebody.

Seungcheol knew it would be him. Seungcheol just didn’t expect how Jeonghan would do it.

“Fuck me,” Jeonghan growled the minute they were alone in his hotel suite. “Fuck me hard, like you hate me. I need to forget this deal ever happened. Just for a minute.”

Seungcheol’s eyes blew wide. “But sir, I’m not—”

“That’s a command, soldier,” Jeonghan hissed. “I don’t have time to state the fact that we’ve been drawn to each other for months now.”

Seungcheol froze, then gulped. “W-We?”

Jeonghan rolled his eyes, but a smile came up to his lips nonetheless. “Do I have to stab you first to get what I want?”

No, absolutely not.

Seungcheol worked fast.

The clash of their lips was undeniably the greatest thing that had happened to Seungcheol. Period. It was rushed, hard, passionate, and everything that filled the void in Seungcheol’s being. He got drunk on Jeonghan’s intoxicating scent: lavender, vanilla, soft and fragrant. His body meshed with Jeonghan’s, his walls of muscle meeting Jeonghan’s lithe and pliant frame, and it was all he could do not to fall apart right there.

“Sir—you’re the death of me,” he groaned.

Jeonghan’s lips trailed across his neck. Seungcheol slammed him against the door and popped his shirt open. It was a tangle of fabric, fingers, and fire. Seungcheol forgot the last time he yearned for another person this much. He needed Jeonghan more than anything. He needed Jeonghan’s lips, his soft skin, his melodious whimpers, everything—

“You want this so bad, huh?” Jeonghan teased as he spread his legs and rubbed against Seungcheol’s hand.

“You have no idea,” Seungcheol grunted, massaging Jeonghan’s rim with his saliva-coated fingers.

“Take me, Seungcheol,” Jeonghan moaned, clutching to Seungcheol for dear life. “Take me in any way you want. I’m yours.”

Seungcheol growled. He couldn’t. He knew this was just a one-time thing. He bit the skin of Jeonghan’s neck as he drove a finger in. Jeonghan’s gasp was out of this world. “Don’t say that. Don’t say things you don’t mean.”

Jeonghan continued whimpering Seungcheol’s name as he closed in around his sole finger, fluttering quickly. “No, I mean it. I mean—it so much. I’ve had my eyes on you—fuck—ever since Vienna. I never stopped looking at you.”

The wetness of Jeonghan’s walls, the beautiful sounds he was making, and the meaning of his words all combined to render Seungcheol speechless. He communicated in bites and pushes, adding another finger into Jeonghan to stretch him out, and he captured Jeonghan’s lips in another heated kiss.

“Jeonghan...” he whispered. “I can’t do it. I can’t control myself if you say things like that. I’ve wanted this for so long. Goddammit, if you take it all back—”

Jeonghan drew Seungcheol closer, his hands on either side of the latter’s face. “When have I not been a man of my word?” His tongue traced Seungcheol’s bottom lip slowly. “I want you. I’ve always wanted you. You make me go insane, with your stupid smart brain and your loyalty and your kindness and—just fuck me, please?”

Seungcheol dove for another kiss as he replaced his fingers with his thigh. It didn’t take long to get Jeonghan all worked up and begging for him. Seungcheol was hard, so hard, and he knew he couldn’t be gentle—

“Got a condom?” Seungcheol breathed.

“Do me raw,” Jeonghan said as he kissed Seungcheol’s jaw.

“I’m tested and clean, but—”

“I am too. It’s okay. I want to feel you.”

Seungcheol sank into Jeonghan in one go and felt the exact taste of ecstasy.

His pace was brutal. He rammed into Jeonghan wildly, unrelenting, causing Jeonghan’s figure to shake in his strong arms. Jeonghan threw his head back and moaned loudly, his fingers clawing on Seungcheol’s nape and shoulders, his legs slung around Seungcheol’s hips. Jeonghan was so tight, so warm, so fucking perfect around Seungcheol. He couldn’t get enough.

“Yes, yes, yes!” Jeonghan rolled his hips in tandem with Seungcheol’s thrusts. “You’re so big, so good inside me, please, give me more!”

“Yeah? You like me filling you up?” Seungcheol licked the inside of Jeonghan’s ear as Jeonghan nodded furiously. “Such a good boy. Squeezing me in just like that. Fuck, you’re too good for me.”

Jeonghan shivered, and with how fast he was moving his hips, Seungcheol knew he was close. He elongated the swing of his hips, burying himself to the hilt in slow yet calculated strikes. “You’re gonna come for me, sweet boy? Doing so well for me. Go ahead, come all over my cock.”

With a loud cry, Jeonghan wrapped his entire frame to Seungcheol’s broad chest. “I’m c-coming!”

Seungcheol followed right behind him, spilling himself inside Jeonghan. Slowly, they recovered their breaths, their eyes meeting each other in a blissed haze. Suddenly, they grinned at the same time, and Jeonghan pulled Seungcheol in for a slower, more intimate kiss. Seungcheol felt renewed, over the moon, truly incapable of feeling anything other than joy and pleasure.

I never stopped looking at you too, Yoon Jeonghan.

“My, my,” he hummed pleasantly. “Where have you been all my life, Choi Seungcheol?”

Seungcheol was a goner. He wouldn’t have it any other way.

Jeonghan officially decreed him to be his only personal bodyguard, which meant that almost every business trip only consisted of the two of them. This resulted in plenty of messy moments on the plane, in a closet, in a bathroom, in a theater box, and anywhere else they were together. Seungcheol was sure that he was going crazy. Jeonghan was a drug that he couldn’t shake off, and he’d had his share of addictions in the past. By far, Jeonghan was the worst one.

He could tell Jeonghan felt the same about him. Jeonghan was a fierce and insistent lover, and occasionally more insatiable than Seungcheol. It wasn’t just physical; he provided Seungcheol praise and loving words, gave him more rest time and days off, and asked about his day even though they spent almost every waking minute together. Seungcheol had never been in love before, so he didn’t know if this was love. But it sure felt pretty damn close to it.

“You’re dangerous, you know,” Jeonghan said to him when they were flying back to Seoul. “You’ve got me thinking things I’m not supposed to think about.”

“Like my cock inside you?” Seungcheol ventured.

Jeonghan rolled his eyes. “I’m supposed to think about that. I meant... retirement.”

Seungcheol blinked. “What?”

“I’ve made a fortune,” Jeonghan explained with a shrug. “The CSR is going well. We’re almost through the last few volumes, thanks to you, baby. We’ve already reduced the number of hits we do. It’s hit an all-time low. Some people say I’ve gone soft, but I don’t care. I feel good about it now. I’m sure you do, too. I think we’ve done good things here.”

Seungcheol frowned. “So you want to stop doing these good things?”

“Somebody can take over,” Jeonghan said with a wave of his hand. “Certainly not you. Not because you’re incapable, but because I want you to myself when I retire. I’m thinking Jisoo, but Jihoon’s also a good choice. Maybe we’ll make some legal businesses, too. Product diversification.”

Seungcheol knew Jeonghan’s thought process. He knew the strains and exhaustion of Jeonghan’s life as a mob boss, so he understood why Jeonghan might want out. He just didn’t expect it to happen so soon. “But you love what you do. Being a leader, running your empire. I don’t see why it has to stop when good things are happening to it right now.”

Jeonghan smiled, stood up, and fell squarely on Seungcheol’s lap. “Yes, good things are happening. You—” He smacked a finger in the middle of Seungcheol’s chest, “—are the best thing among it all. I just want to spend more time with my man. It’d be great to be with you without thinking of meetings and partnerships and distribution.”

Seungcheol curled his arms around Jeonghan’s waist. “Let’s sit on it first, okay?”

“Oh, I’m sitting on it now—”

“Shut up,” Seungcheol laughed. “I’m just saying that this is a big deal. Let’s take our time to think about it. You might feel differently about it tomorrow, or the next day, or the day after that. Okay?”

Jeonghan huffed. “Okay. I’m only saying that because you’re so handsome.”

Seungcheol chuckled and pressed a kiss onto Jeonghan’s lips.

Jeonghan did feel differently about it some days after that.

Seungcheol was missing.

It was dark. Foul smell. Dust. Rough floors.

Seungcheol grunted as he tried to sit up. His legs were sore, his hands were tied behind his back, and his face pulsed in pain. He knew just from the sensation—and from experience—that he had a cut lip, bruised eyes and cheeks, and perhaps a concussion. Some bones were broken, and he was guessing that it was his ribs. He was on the receiving end of this pain several times during his hitman days, but it had been ages ago. Now, he was struggling to find out just how he got here.

The last thing he remembered was checking the west wing of a mansion that Jeonghan was having a meeting in. He was concerned about potential intruders. His best guess was that someone had doused him with chloroform and taken him as a prisoner.

But for what?

Seungcheol’s heart dropped when he put two and two together.

Jeonghan had enemies. Plenty of them. Now that he was focusing a lot on less deadly methods of doing business, some business partners weren’t happy about it. He didn’t know the details, but he heard that some deemed Jeonghan less reliable and legitimate, which was ridiculous considering that the quality of his operations and productions didn’t change. Seungcheol also figured that his relationship with Jeonghan, never faked or concealed in front of anyone, exposed him to be someone Jeonghan cared much about.

Someone that was an effective piece for blackmailing Yoon Jeonghan and getting him to do whatever Seungcheol’s captor wanted.

Seungcheol sighed and shook his head. No matter what was happening out there, he had to get out of here. He had to get to Jeonghan before...

Before, he sensed, his untimely death.

He knew much about kidnapping, having done it for a career, but his injuries made it much more difficult to escape. He got so far as breaking the lock for the fourth door out of the jail before he collapsed to the floor in a rumpled heap. He should continue... but the pain was bright and searing and he was sure his knees were broken as well. He gritted his teeth as he crawled his way out of the door.

“Hey, where do you think you’re going?”

A blow to his face made everything turn dark.

The first thing he saw was white. White ceilings. Heaven?

No, he might be better now, but he would never belong there.

“Baby? Cheollie?”

Seungcheol tried to speak, but he couldn’t. He could only turn his gaze and roll his face to the side.

Bless the heavens, it was his love.

Jeonghan screamed and attacked him in a fervent hug. Tears drenched Seungcheol’s shoulders, and the latter tried to wind his arms around Jeonghan to comfort him, but they wouldn’t move. Jeonghan pulled away to scatter his gaze all over Seungcheol’s frame.

“Where does it hurt, baby? Are you okay? Your arms? Your knees? Your ribs? Oh, my poor Cheollie—”

He drew Seungcheol’s face closer and broke into a fresh set of tears. Seungcheol realized he must’ve looked damn awful for Jeonghan to cry like that. He did feel awful. Now that the reality was sinking in, he could feel almost every part of his body hurting.

Jeonghan continued his cries. “I’ll go fetch the nurse, hang on—”

Seungcheol swam in and out of darkness. It passed by quickly. When he woke up, he realized it must’ve been hours or days afterwards, since his body felt just a bit better.

Jeonghan was still by his side.

“Just rest, baby,” he said softly, brushing Seungcheol’s hair with his fingers. “How are you feeling?”

Seungcheol tried to nod.

“The doctor said they poured acid on your tongue,” Jeonghan said. This time, he wasn’t tearing up or being hysterical. This time, it was the usual Jeonghan, steely and strong and unshakeable, and even in his tired haze, Seungcheol could see the fury in his eyes. “They didn’t want you to fucking speak. But don’t worry, baby, they’ll patch you up nice. It’s a long recovery, but they said you’ll make it. And you have me.”

Seungcheol tried to smile, but he passed out instead.

Some months later, the doctor cleared Seungcheol for bedrest at home.

He could speak now, but he was still bedridden for the time being. The doctor was hoping to get Seungcheol up and walking in a few months, with the help of physical therapy. Jeonghan argued that it would happen in a year since he didn’t want Seungcheol to overexert himself. Seungcheol didn’t have any inclination to argue to Jeonghan.

Mostly because he had never, ever seen Jeonghan this livid.

In front of Seungcheol, Jeonghan tried his best to be caring and loving, but he wasn’t fooling anyone. He knew that the strongest emotion Jeonghan felt was anger, and that every glance at Seungcheol’s broken body reminded him of the captors that had taken him away. He begged for information about the captors, but Jeonghan refused to say anything.

“It’s not the time to discuss about that,” he said sharply. “Just focus on getting better, baby. Please. For me.”

Jisoo, Jihoon, and many other employees visited him at home—Jeonghan declined everybody else the right to visit Seungcheol at the hospital in fear of distressing him—so that was Seungcheol’s only source of outside information. The captors were professional hitmen hired by Jeonghan’s competitor in weaponry manufacturing. They wanted Jeonghan’s technology in exchange for a healthy and unharmed Seungcheol, despite them already beating up Seungcheol before the rendezvous with Jeonghan. Jeonghan, to say the least, went ballistic. He hunted every single person associated with the competitor and either shot them on the spot or tortured them in an underground chamber. He grilled the bosses for information by personally interrogating them, something he rarely did since he assumed power. He broke their fingers, cut up their faces and limbs, and branded them with molten liquid until he finally got Seungcheol’s location from them.

He personally led the extraction mission and carried a few guns—again, something he rarely did since he assumed power—before discovering Seungcheol in an abandoned weapon facility in the woods. He killed about a dozen people on his way to bring Seungcheol to the helicopter purely out of spite and hatred. After Seungcheol was admitted to the hospital, Jeonghan went on a rampage, threatening every single one of his competitors and business partners with deliveries of bloodied bones of all the men that he killed.

“Needless to say, no more people are saying that Jeonghan’s gone soft,” Jisoo recounted to Seungcheol. “Sales have skyrocketed. Everyone wants to be in Jeonghan’s good favor. Nobody has seen a brutal operation of this scale since a decade ago.”

It made Seungcheol sad and happy to finally learn about it. Sad because Jeonghan had to endure everything all alone. He knew how lonely Jeonghan was before he came, and he couldn’t imagine the pain that he went through, knowing that his love was out there somewhere and being unable to touch him. Happy because Jeonghan loved him. He loved Seungcheol enough to destroy the entire underworld. He loved Seungcheol enough to dispose every resource he had to finding him and bringing him home safe. He loved Seungcheol enough to protect him with everything he had.

When everyone left and Jeonghan remained, Seungcheol forced himself to sit up and give Jeonghan a kiss. The latter immediately fussed—“Your ribs aren’t fully healed yet, don’t you dare move an inch”—but Seungcheol shook his head.

“You know I’d gladly take ten thousand more beatings like this for you. I love you, Hannie.”

A mix of emotions slid across Jeonghan’s face, but he settled on loving as he wound his arms around Seungcheol carefully. “Don’t ever say that again. I will protect you and save you so you don’t get hurt.” He kissed Seungcheol’s cheek and lips softly. “But you can say that last sentence every time. I love you too, Cheollie.”

It took a better part of a year, but Seungcheol was declared all fixed up by the doctor.

He could walk, move, and speak normally again. The shadows of the injuries were still there—his knees would need to get regularly examined since he kept limping, and he shouldn’t put too much strain on his ribs—but for the most part, he was his old physical self again. Jeonghan celebrated by treating the entire Seoul staff to a series of nightclubs. Seungcheol wasn’t a fan of partying, but he was a fan of Jeonghan cozying up to him the entire night and peppering kisses all over his neck in front of everyone watching.

When they returned to their home, a sprawling mansion that Jeonghan purchased and settled in ever since Seungcheol’s recovery, Jeonghan gently guided Seungcheol to their bedroom.

“My sweet baby deserves a reward,” he whispered as he kissed Seungcheol until his lips were all swollen. “I’ll take care of you.”

Seungcheol thought it would only happen that one time, but surprisingly, it continued every time: Jeonghan was the dominant one in bed. In their previous sessions, Jeonghan was always the submissive, not because he was naturally a sub, but because it was the only place where he didn’t have to give the commands. He gave up that power very gladly to Seungcheol. But ever since the accident, Jeonghan refused the notion of Seungcheol taking over. He would shake his head and glare at him angrily.

“No. I don’t want to. Now shut up and let me eat you out.”

“Hannie, let’s talk about this,” Seungcheol coaxed. “I’m very much okay with this, but I think there’s something going on here that—”

“Nothing is going on here,” Jeonghan said sharply as he spread Seungcheol’s thighs wide, “Other than me trying to take care of you.”

It finally clicked. Seungcheol pulled Jeonghan up despite the latter’s resistance. “Hannie... Are you blaming yourself because of what happened to me?”

Jeonghan froze. He shook his head and sighed. “Baby, I—yes. Of course. Why wouldn’t I?” His lips trembled as he caressed Seungcheol’s face. “It’s my fault. It truly is. If it weren’t for my lack of intimidation, I would have had you safe and sound in my arms.”

Seungcheol fervently shook his head. “No, no, sweetheart, it’s not your fault. Do you hear me? It’s not. Your. Fault.” He gripped Jeonghan’s face, desperately hoping that the man would come to his senses. “They did something bad. They took me, and they shouldn’t have. But you saved me. You protected me. More than anyone else ever did. You got me out of there. I’m all healed now, thanks to you. It’s not your fault, honey. I’m here now, with you, safe and sound in your arms.”

Jeonghan trembled like a leaf, and Seungcheol’s heart broke. “I... I can’t lose you, baby. I can’t. I just fucking can’t. I nearly lost my mind. I couldn’t sleep, I couldn’t eat—all I could think about was you, and how fucking stupid I was, and how if they laid a hand on you, I would end them—”

“You did end them,” Seungcheol reassured. “You made sure they weren’t gonna do any more bad shit. You did all the right things. You’re not losing me. I’m here, okay?” He took Jeonghan’s hand and pressed it on his chest, directly on top of his beating heart. “Feel that? That’s my heart, beating for you. Only you. I’m here, and I’m not going anywhere.”

Jeonghan sobbed, and he stroked Seungcheol’s chest lovingly. “I would die if I lose you again. Just promise me one thing, okay? Don’t get hurt. Just don’t get hurt, baby. I can’t take it.”

Seungcheol nodded and kissed him slowly. “I promise. I won’t.”

Jeonghan forbid Seungcheol from working. It didn’t go well the first time they talked about it. Seungcheol rarely raised his voice, but he did for this one. It was the only thing, other than Jeonghan, that gave him purpose and revival, which he desperately needed. Jeonghan refused by the grounds of threats and potential kidnappings. They fought day and night, until their throats were sore, until they slept in separate rooms for two hours before realizing that they couldn’t spend a minute without each other.

“I’m sorry,” Seungcheol first apologized as he ran towards Jeonghan, who was already trying to get his hands on him. “I knew how much it hurt you the last time I wasn’t around. I shouldn’t have asked such a big request from you.”

“It’s okay, I’m sorry too,” Jeonghan murmured. “I know how much your work means to you. I’m just scared and angry and overprotective. We’ll work something out, okay? Maybe a trial period. You could get back to your old job. We have a fresh set of victims in need of recompensation now.”

Seungcheol chuckled. “We’ll see. As long as you stop killing anybody that tries to touch me, I think we’ll have enough for gifts.”

“Mm, good talk,” Jeonghan said before pulling Seungcheol into an intense kiss. “Now, I really, really need you to bend over for me right now.”

Seungcheol laughed but did as what he was told to do. Electricity ran through his veins as he exposed himself for his man, spreading his legs wide and bending over the dresser nearby. Jeonghan cursed as he instantly shoved his fingers into Seungcheol, staring at their reflection in the mirror.

“Can’t help but get so possessive with you, baby,” Jeonghan cooed. “I don’t want anyone to touch you but me. Nobody takes better care of you than me, yeah?”

Whimpers spilled out of Seungcheol’s lips as he nodded. “Y-Yes. Just you, sir.”

Jeonghan groaned at the name and pumped one, two, then three of his digits in and out. Seungcheol clutched at the wooden surface as he stared into Jeonghan’s lustful eyes in the mirror. “Fuck—sir, please, touch me more. Fill me up, please.”

It didn’t take long for Jeonghan to shove himself into Seungcheol. Moans racked the air between them as Jeonghan grabbed Seungcheol’s hair backwards. His hips were pistoning fast and hard, giving Seungcheol no time to adjust to his size. “Good pup, what a good pup. Taking my cock so well like this.”

“S-Sir!” Seungcheol screeched as he rolled his hips. “Please, t-too much, too big, pup’s feeling so good!”

Every drag that Jeonghan did was the sweetest torture for Seungcheol. When Jeonghan hit that certain spot, Seungcheol could see stars. He craved more, more, until Jeonghan was pummeling him with such drive and urgency that Seungcheol’s eyes lolled back.

“C-Coming!”

“That’s it, pup, come all over my cock,” Jeonghan growled. “Say thank you, sir while you’re at it. Be a good pup for me.”

Seungcheol screamed as he reached his peak, trembling all over, walls fluttering. “T-Thank you, sir!”

With a groan, Jeonghan came to his high a beat later. He coiled his arms around Seungcheol as he breathed slowly, kissing Seungcheol’s heaving spine.

“Never gonna let you go, pup.”

Seungcheol returned to his old job with pleasure. He settled on a compromise with Jeonghan: he could no longer be Jeonghan’s bodyguard, but he could do his CSR job freely. Jeonghan would accompany him on trips whenever he was free. At first, Jeonghan resisted giving compensation to the families of the men he despised so much, but Seungcheol convinced him that these people were innocent and blameless, and felt the same loss Jeonghan had felt when he lost Seungcheol.

It was nice to travel again, despite Jeonghan’s constant overreaction to anything that might harm him (he banned paperclips from the New York base because Seungcheol got a cut from it). He even got started on helping the victims in his own ledger. Seungcheol felt like himself again, a first in a long while. Although he was wary of any other attacks, he was joyful enough to enjoy the moments as they came.

Until one of his victims’ families turned out to be his former employer, Richard Smith.

“Seungcheol,” the old, white-haired man greeted him with a smile. Seungcheol froze. He had already checked that the house was empty before he dropped his box. But then again, it was Smith. He taught everything Seungcheol knew. He could easily avoid even the best spies in the world.

“Mr. Smith,” Seungcheol said with a thin smile. “I hope you’ve been well.”

“On the contrary,” Smith replied in a singsong voice. “My nephew was killed. Because of your boyfriend.”

Seungcheol tensed. He’d read the ledger. There was no picture of the Richard Smith mentioned, so he assumed it wasn’t his Smith. The address written wasn’t Smith’s old address either. But it turned out that it was a small world.

“That’s exactly what I’m trying to help fix,” he said, trying to keep his voice level in front of the man who practically raised him since he was ten. “I know it’s not the same as bringing your nephew back, but—”

“He was the only family I had,” Smith interjected. His voice was still soft and slow, unaffected by the charged emotions or the difficult subject matter at hand. “He’d wanted to work in the best business before he worked for me. He said it would only be temporary. Yet, you permanently terminated him.”

Seungcheol was reminded of all the times Smith chastised him—your blade is too low, your swing is too high, put some muscle into it, are you a coward?—and he straightened up before responding. “That was his choice. I didn’t ask to be kidnapped. My boyfriend did what was right. In this box, I have all his things and—”

“No.” Smith shook his head. “A life for a life.”

Seungcheol’s breath stopped.

“You tell your silly little boyfriend to meet me at the clearing in the woods on the edge of this town tomorrow. At sunrise. And you better come, too.” Smith finally broke his masquerade and gave Seungcheol his trademark, deadly, wicked grin. “I want you to see your boyfriend die.”

Just promise me one thing, okay? Don’t get hurt. Just don’t get hurt, baby. I can’t take it.

I promise. I won’t.

The clearing was large, with Smith and his men standing on one end and Jeonghan with his on the other. Weapons were raised, bombs were prepared, but the two men stood still, on the precipice of a bloodbath. Seungcheol stood near to Jeonghan, blatantly refusing Jeonghan’s command to stand down.

Smith scoffed as he saw Seungcheol. “You know, he should be with me.”

The sound that came out of Jeonghan’s mouth was close to animalistic. “His contract with you ended. We took care of that years ago.”

“It wasn’t enough money to buy me out,” Smith drawled. “I said a life for a life, but I wouldn’t mind easing it up on you. I do need someone capable enough to run my business now that my nephew’s gone. And Seungcheol has done wonderful work, hasn’t he?” Smith turned to Jeonghan with a sly smile. “Give me Seungcheol, and I will spare your life.”

Jeonghan growled. “Over my dead fucking body.”

“No? What a shame,” Smith tutted. “Did you know that I used to tell my men to use him however they liked? That’s why he never so much touched anyone until you came along. But they did say he was always so delicious—”

Seungcheol flinched at the memories, the ones he never told anyone about, not even Jeonghan. The shame was too much to bear. At the same time, Jeonghan had already pressed a blade to Smith’s neck.

“If you continue that sentence,” he spat, “I will rip your fucking heart out and feed it to you.”

Smith laughed as he waved his hands to signify to his men, who had cocked their weapons the moment Jeonghan’s blade touched Smith, to lower their guns. “Just having fun here. Because I’m nice, I’ll ask again. It’s either Seungcheol goes with me, or you go to the gods above.”

Seungcheol could feel his heart breaking apart. After all that Jeonghan had done for him... He knew what Smith was capable of. He knew how, despite Jeonghan’s advanced empire, Smith remained as a senior in the game with even more decades of experience. Slowly, he tugged on Jeonghan’s free hand.

“It’s okay, Hannie. I’ll go.”

“BULLSHIT!” Jeonghan roared, turning his head to Seungcheol. Flames of fury fanned in his eyes, and Seungcheol partly cowered in fear, rarely used to seeing Jeonghan like this. “You stay in your fucking place.”

Seungcheol shook his head, his lips trembling due to the memories, old and horrible, washing over him. He never wanted to return to Smith—hell, he barely managed to escape—but if this was what protected Jeonghan... he would do it. No matter the cost.

“Let me go, Hannie,” he said in a shivering voice, no longer able to hide his emotions, his fear, his devastation. “Please. I don’t want him to hurt you.”

“That was an order,” Jeonghan said through gritted teeth. Smith was chuckling in amusement.

Seungcheol took a step forward, and Jeonghan hissed. “It’s okay,” he said, squeezing Jeonghan’s hand. “You’ll be alive and safe. That’s what matters. I survived there once. I can do it again.”

“You’re still fucking limping and you have the audacity to say that to me?”

“Just give him what he wants,” Seungcheol pleaded, glancing at Smith’s exuberant face. “He won’t hurt you if I go. Please, please, let me go.”

Jeonghan turned to Smith with wrath in his orbs and venom in his voice. “If you’re looking for a competent successor, I have many candidates that I’d gladly give up.”

“No. I have history, good history with Seungcheol,” Smith said with an outstretched hand. “I know him well. Anything else you offer is second best. Come, Seungcheol.”

Seungcheol turned to Jeonghan and kissed his cheek. It was his last chance, but he would shoot Smith in the knee with the gun he had holstered in his back. He didn’t know if his reflexes would be fast enough, and he only had the gun with him just in case, but he had to bank on it. He had to strike when Smith thought everything was all done.

Jeonghan keened painfully when Seungcheol stepped forward, now closer to Smith than he was to Jeonghan.

“I said over my dead body.”

In a split of a second, Jeonghan pointed his gun at Smith and fired. However, he wasn’t fast enough.

Smith’s gun was already aimed at Jeonghan, the bullet flying through the air.

Seungcheol knew it from pure instinct. He knew what he had to do.

Just don’t get hurt, baby. I can’t take it.

He pushed his weight to the left, standing right in the middle of the bullet’s course, and he heard it, a rupture, before he felt the bullet pierce his chest and knock him down.

Screams, he heard screams, that of Jeonghan’s, of everyone else, and chaos broke. Rows of men crashed into each other, weapons flown and shot and blood stained the grass and—

Smith was sent down with precise hits of Jeonghan’s gun. A thud, a satisfying thud, falling with every pain Seungcheol ever had growing up. Now he felt his vision darkening, his mind clearing, his hold on reality slipping—

“Baby, you fucking asshole, I fucking hate you, you’re gonna be okay, you hear me? Get the goddamn stretcher! FUCKING MOVE!”

 He managed a faint chuckle before everything went black.

I promise. I won’t.

“Baby? Baby, wake up, please...”

“You’re so fucking stupid. I hate you so much. You saved my life...”

“It was an advanced military-grade bullet. Almost ninety percent success rate of termination. Smith fucking asshole.”

“But you’re still here... You’re still hanging on for me, aren’t you, baby? I’m so so sorry. I’m so sorry. I’ve failed to protect you again...”

“Please, wake up, just this once, please. I will leave everything. You hear me? Everything. No more of this dirty business. I just want you safe, sweetheart. Please, just wake up...”

“If it hurts so bad... I don’t want you to die, baby. Can’t I be selfish just this once? I don’t want you to hurt, but baby, I want to make you happy...”

“I have a ring prepared. I know you kept saying you wanted to propose to me, but I can’t help it. It’s a pretty ring, baby. You would love it. Let me show it to you, yeah?”

“Smith is dead now. My gun didn’t take care of it the first time, but I made sure it hurt in the chamber. I got him to tell me the names of all the men that used to take advantage of you. I killed them all, sweetheart. I did that for you. They won’t touch you anymore. They won’t hurt you anymore. I’ll keep you safe from them.”

“I’m so so sorry, pup. You don’t deserve this. You don’t deserve to be hurt because of me... I’ll protect you better now, I promise. We’ll go somewhere nice and quiet, just the two of us. Military protection round the clock.”

“Just come back to me, baby.”

“Please...”

When Seungcheol woke up, it was an echo of the last time he was here. At the same place, in the same bed.

Jeonghan screamed and attacked him in a fervent hug. Tears drenched Seungcheol’s shoulders, and the latter tried to wind his arms around Jeonghan to comfort him, but they wouldn’t move. Jeonghan pulled away to scatter his gaze all over Seungcheol’s frame.

“Baby, baby, Cheollie, oh... thank goodness...”

Jeonghan was shaking so much that Seungcheol forced one of his arms to curl around him. He found his voice, unused and foreign as it was.

“Baby, it’s okay, I’m here. I’m here, Hannie.”

Jeonghan held Seungcheol’s hand tightly, sobbing throughout. “I’m sorry, I’m so so sorry, baby... I’ll leave everything, okay? No more. No more business. No more mobs or weapons or anything else. Just you and me, baby.” He kissed each of Seungcheol’s fingers with such fervor and love it warmed Seungcheol’s heart a thousand fold. “We’ll go somewhere quiet. Vienna. Would you love that? Go to Vienna with me?”

Seungcheol smiled, nodding slowly. “I would love that.”

Jeonghan returned his smile, albeit tearful. “It’s settled. I’ll give everything to Jisoo and Jihoon. We’ll retire, okay? We’ll find a nice mansion and settle there. We’ll get married. Have lots of kids just like we wanted. Legitimate businesses. We’ll open a fucking candy shop in the mountains. Just you and me.” He clutched the sides of Seungcheol’s face, his eyes hopeful, awaiting Seungcheol’s answer.

Seungcheol nodded again, his voice hoarse. “As it should be. I’d love that and more.”

Jeonghan grinned, tears gushing down his cheeks, and landed a soft, loving kiss on Seungcheol’s lips. “I love you, Cheollie.”

Seungcheol returned the kiss tenderly, smiling throughout.

“I love you, Hannie.”

He dragged Jeonghan’s hand to his chest, right above his beating heart.

Feel that? That’s my heart, beating for you. Only you. I’m here, and I’m not going anywhere.