Kane: (reading one of Miki’s notebooks): Cherry cola kiss? The things that go through your head, a ghra. What the hell does that even mean?
Miki: (takes a sip of soda, kissing Kane and sliding a bit of liquid into Kane’s mouth with his tongue) That.
Kane: Why don’t we go into the bedroom and you can show me what else that tongue of yours can do. And bring the soda.
—Red Notebook Musings
CHINATOWN WAS asleep by the time Kane unlocked the warehouse’s front door. It’d been an easy ride through the district’s streets. He’d hit the sweet lull spot when the restaurants were closed and the early morning crews hadn’t quite filtered in to begin their shifts.
Red and gold banners were strung up between the buildings in preparation for the coming moon festival, high enough to allow trucks to pass through the streets without tangling on the wires. The verdigris pagoda streetlamps sparkled, recently cleaned by a collection of benevolent societies and a couple of church groups. Here and there storefronts gleamed with a slap of new paint, but the awesome garishness of the district’s spangled and effusive imprint remained. Until he’d moved into the warehouse, Kane hadn’t really appreciated Chinatown’s chaos. It’d taken falling in love with a mercurial singer to show him the kaleidoscope of life whirling about him, a hectic dance of colors, languages, and cuisines he had only just begun exploring.
If he’d never met Miki, Kane didn’t know when exactly in his lifetime he would have discovered the snacking deliciousness of whole deep-fried garlic cloves, especially when drenched in a shoyu-chili oil dredge.
A few doors down from the warehouse, the bakery Miki bought egg tarts at lit up, prepping for the morning rush due to hit in less than a handful of hours. Behind their main counter, a round-faced older man hefted large bags of flour onto a worktable while another sped through pallets of eggs, cracking them one by one into an enormous metal mixing bowl. Kane made a mental note to stop by and grab moon cakes early in the week before all that was left were the ones with an egg in them, an atrocity that would offend his lover on levels Kane hadn’t realized even existed before he’d met Miki.
“For a guy who has the eating habits of a five-year-old, he can be pretty fucking picky.” Kane let himself into their home.
Then stopped short when he realized someone was sitting on the peninsula counter between the dining area and the kitchen, a dark silhouette with its back to the front door. A rustling of something plastic carried over the long space. Only one of the recessed lights was on, keeping the kitchen area dim. The rest of the house was dark, illuminated sporadically by the electronic devices set up under the large-screen TV in the living space and the night-light left on in the bathroom.
Kane intimately knew that shape, having explored that delectable body with his mouth and fingers over the past few years. Dude hadn’t so much as whispered a peep at Kane’s entrance, long inured to the sound of the Hummer coming home. Whatever Miki was doing, he was lost in thought because he didn’t so much as glance behind him when Kane put away his gun, then shut the front closet door. Kane shed his shoes and then his jacket, draping it over the back of the couch as he walked by. The dog gave a murmured woof but didn’t stir from the mound of pillows he’d nested on.
“No, don’t get up,” Kane grumbled at the canine. “I wouldn’t want you to wear yourself out greeting me hello when I come home at night. Let’s go see what our Miki is up to in the kitchen.”
Miki looked up when Kane entered the kitchen, his hazel gaze a bit unfocused and thoughtful. He had a half-unwrapped ramen packet in his hand and was fiddling with the dried noodles, breaking them apart. The smile Miki gave him washed away nearly all the darkness Kane’d rolled in that evening.
In that moment, under the dubious romantic lighting of a dimmed LED bulb, Kane was struck by how much he loved Miki St. John.
They hadn’t started off on the best of footing, mostly due to Kane’s Irish temper and Miki’s aggressive detachment and inscrutability. Looking back, Miki, about fifty pounds short back then and too lean by far, should have been cowed by Kane’s height and breadth. Fueled by his frustration, Kane had thrown everything he had at the tall, lanky, pretty man who’d opened the door, glanced down at the thieving canine who’d violated Kane’s shop, then categorically denied owning the dog even as Dude trotted past him into the warehouse.
Miki hadn’t so much as blinked.
Instead, he’d squared his shoulders and told Kane not only to go fuck himself but how to do it and what sex toys he could use to make sure it hurt. Kane hadn’t wanted to respect the man he’d come to tear apart, but a glimmer of awe and admiration settled in then. He’d spent three decades herding younger brothers and sisters with little more than his voice and an ingrained sense of authority. His siblings listened to him more than they listened to Connor, probably because they knew Connor’s tender heart lurked beneath his bluster. But Kane usually meant business and got results.
Until that day.
Back then Kane hadn’t seen the pain in Miki’s face or how he held himself. All he’d seen was the erotic pout of Miki’s full mouth, the snarling defiance in his tumbled emerald-and-citrine eyes, and the punch of graceful sensuality in the way he draped himself against the doorframe.
He still saw all those things. He’d scraped back the prickly, aggravating nature the feral street rat used to defend himself and discovered the still-not-too-gentle soul underneath. Miki had fire in his soul, an eternal ember of something visceral and raw that drew Kane in every time. The wildness of Miki’s spirit excited him, provoked him into living life with a fierce enthusiasm, something Kane hadn’t really considered until he’d met the musician.
Falling in love with Miki had been frustrating, exasperating, and nearly killed him, but something shifted in Kane, making him finally understand why his older brother ran into dangerous situations with nothing more than a bulletproof vest and a heavy arsenal behind him. Living with and loving Miki was as close to being on a SWAT raid as Kane ever wanted to get.
And probably just as dangerous.
Not many men could say their lover eyed them suspiciously as they approached, but it was a look Kane knew well. Especially when Miki was huddled over food. Grinning despite the fatigue pulling at him, Kane stood in front of Miki and placed his hands on either side of his lover’s hips, parting Miki’s knees so he could press in between his legs.
If anything, the suspicious look grew even more feral and territorial.
Kane was man enough to admit it kind of turned him on.
“Do you have any idea how much I love you?” Kane murmured, pressing a kiss against the corner of Miki’s mouth. He tasted of slightly salty doughiness and was still chewing when he returned Kane’s kiss.
“Want some?” Miki tilted his hand, offering Kane access to the crumbled, uncooked ramen noodles.
Oddly enough, that tiny gesture spoke more of Miki’s love for him than anything else he could have done. Kane was struck speechless, unsure how to speak around the swell of his heart in his chest. Cupping Miki’s face, he stared into the beauty he found there, amused by the slight lift of Miki’s upper lip and the confused frown narrowing his eyes.
Miki put another pinch of noodles into his mouth and chewed. “What? I took out the flavor packet. Not like you couldn’t taste it was foil if you put it in your mouth.”
“For the life of me, I do not know why you eat that shit.” Kane grabbed a single ripple of uncooked noodle and popped it in his mouth. It tasted as disgusting as it had the first five times he’d tried one in a misguided attempt to understand its attraction to Miki’s taste buds. “No, it still tastes like shite.”
“I like how you get all Irish when something goes really bad.” Miki chuckled, helping himself to more ramen. “This tastes like—I don’t know—it’s just something that makes me feel better when my head gets all noisy. Kind of like you do.”
“I sure hope to God I taste better,” Kane mumbled, sliding his hands up Miki’s legs, feeling his warmth through the low-slung cotton pants he had on. His SFPD shirt hung on Miki’s smaller frame, but the singer often wore his things to sleep in. “I can’t tell you how much I love seeing you in my clothes when I come home. Makes it extra special taking them off of you. Where’s your brother and my cousin?”
“Upstairs, asleep.” The suspicion was back in Miki’s eyes. “Why?”
“Because I want to do very naughty things with you on top of this counter, and if they’ve already gone to bed, there’s less chance of them coming through the front door and catching us.” Kane hooked his thumbs into the waistband of Miki’s pants, tugging at them. “Actually, someone possibly catching us makes it even more naughty.”
“Hold up. We have a no sex in the kitchen rule, remember?” Miki put the ramen packet down, then closed his fingers over Kane’s wrists, stalling him. “If I recall you said: ‘We have to cook on these counters. I’m not eating off of anything where somebody’s ass has been.’ You give me shit for just sitting here.”
“Sometimes, Mick,” Kane murmured, bending in to capture Miki’s mouth, “rules are meant to be broken.”
“I’m going to remember you said that when Sionn catches us doing this,” he growled into Kane’s kiss. “Because if I get thrown under the bus for this, I’m taking you with me.”
“Living room couch, then?” Kane suggested, nibbling down Miki’s neck. “We’ll just have to kick the dog off.”
“What’s wrong with our fucking bed?” Miki grabbed at Kane’s shoulders, hissing as he was picked up. “Dude, you’re going to drop me. Fuck, why did I name the dog Dude? Kane!”
“When are you ever going to trust me not to hurt you, Mick?” Kane cupped Miki’s ass and slid one hand up to the middle of his back, cradling his lover against his chest. Miki’s legs were hooked around his waist, his thighs tight around Kane’s middle. He trembled in Kane’s arms, his throat working as he held himself tight, and sucked in a breath when Kane walked them out into the living room. “I’m not going to drop you, babe. I will never drop you.”
“Shit happens,” Miki reminded him. “I’ve got a couple of scars on my knee to prove that to you if you need it.”
“Dude, move.” Kane nudged the couch cushion with his knee, and Miki tightened his grip. The dog opened one eye, then slowly slithered off the sectional. “Mick, you’ve got to let go a bit. I’m going to put you down now. You know, most people would think this is romantic. Me carrying you over to the couch is pretty high up there on the romantic gesture scale.”
“Most people are idiots.” Miki released his grip on Kane’s neck as he was lowered onto the sofa. He breathed a sigh of relief when cradled in the cushions, then glowered up at Kane. “How the hell was that romantic? Like I couldn’t have walked over here by myself?”
“It means that I’m taking care of you.” He tugged at the hem of the shirt Miki had borrowed from him, pulling it up over Miki’s chest. “That I don’t want you to do anything but relax and enjoy yourself.”
“That’s just fucking stupid.” The sneer on Miki’s face could’ve curdled fresh milk. “I don’t need to be carried around. You forget, K, I’m not going to break. I don’t expect you to treat me like I’m going to, either.”
“You are about as romantic as that potato over there, but God help me if I don’t love you for it.” Kane stripped Miki slowly, taking his time to kiss and lick at nearly every inch of exposed skin.
Getting himself naked took a little bit more work, especially since Miki’s hands were busy exploring everything from his belly button to the inside of Kane’s thighs, but eventually he got free of his clothing. Chuckling, he returned to the task at hand, teasing Miki into a state of frenzied arousal. At some point the dog left the room, but Kane didn’t see where Dude went, nor did he care. The thought of Damien and Sionn coming down the stairs fled his mind, and he was happily ensconced in a world that existed only as far as the ends of the sofa and containing only the man he loved.
Kane dwelled on the sensitive spots he knew would drive Miki crazy. He’d discovered several over the years. The rise of Miki’s hip bones and the inside of his elbows where his skin was tender and soft. Taking a small bite of the skin under his left earlobe made Miki shiver, and Kane’s fingertips running down the middle of his spine was always enough to harden Miki’s cock.
He wasn’t a musician by any stretch of the imagination, but he intimately knew Miki’s body and could play a sensual dance across Miki’s skin, drawing out every erotic reaction he could ever hope for. Kane reveled in the sighs and soft moans, grew arrogantly smug at Miki’s irritated hisses when his fingers teased at the velvety skin of Miki’s balls. His teeth always found the spots where a single bite could make Miki squirm, and he took pleasure in stretching over Miki’s long, naked body, pushing his lover down into the couch.
Kane stared down into Miki’s face, struck again by the simple beauty in his open expression and unguarded gaze. Naked underneath him, Miki was at his most vulnerable, yet also his fiercest. He could never find the words to express how awestruck he was that Miki loved him, that Miki let him love him. Knowing the horrors of Miki’s childhood and the sacrifices he made, the battles he fought to get to adulthood, humbled Kane. Miki had a strength in his scarred, muscular form and unyielding spirit Kane envied. He didn’t know if he could ever survive what Miki had gone through, and he was thankful to the marrow of his bones he’d never be tested that deeply.
He was about to tell Miki how much he admired him when his lover opened his mouth and murmured into the quiet they cradled between them, “I love you.”
Once again, Miki stole the words right out of his heart.
“Fricking beggar,” Kane growled, lowering his mouth over Miki’s. “What the hell would I do without you?”
“Nothing if you don’t have any lube on you.” Miki canted his head back, glancing at the bedroom just out of sight. “Another good reason we should be doing this on our bed. Everything’s in there. I mean—”
Kane saw something in Miki’s face, something edging on the ridge of fear and apprehension. Miki’s lip trembled, something he didn’t normally see, and his eyes were guarded, despite his flushed cheeks and definite arousal.
Stroking Miki’s cheek with his thumb, Kane gently prodded, “Are you okay, a ghra?”
“Kind of,” Miki whispered back. “I just want to go to our bedroom. I just need to feel… safe.”
THE CUSTOM-MADE bedroom doors were closed, and their room was lit only by the ambient glow of the streetlamps shining through the narrow slit between the blackout curtains drawn over the space’s arched windows. With the world shut away, Miki straddled Kane’s bare hips, his palms pressing against his cop’s chest and his knees barely complaining at being bent while he rested his weight on his shins.
And he felt loved.
God, he needed to feel Kane’s love. Now more than ever.
Having sex in the living room was… wrong. Not because he didn’t want Kane. God, his desire for Kane made his teeth ache most of the time. He never wanted anything more than the touch of Kane on his body and in his soul. Where music calmed the monsters dwelling in his head, it only muted their ravenous hungers, and their rage surfaced time and time again, always seeking out the cracks in his control to tear him down.
Kane silenced those demons long enough for Miki to catch his breath and see the world through wide-open eyes, stripped of terror and doubt. His cop grounded him and, at the same time, sheared the chains holding Miki captive in the prison he’d made from his own memories.
“Never imagined I’d love somebody touching me.” Miki looked down at Kane, tracing his lover’s chest muscles with the tip of his finger. “But fuck, I guess I never imagined I’d ever love someone either.”
“See, that’s a sad state of affairs,” Kane replied in his low, Irish-accented rumble. “I can’t imagine anyone not loving you, Mick. Especially me. Especially now. Are you sure you want to do this?”
“What? Make love to you?” He followed his finger with the tip of his tongue, licking at Kane’s nipple until it tightened into a bud beneath his lips. Drawing out a hiss from his lover with a light bite, Miki chuckled. “Yeah, I can’t think of anything I’d rather be doing right now. Especially since I need you so fucking much.”
If ever someone had asked him in the past—before Sinner’s Gin died—who Miki thought he would fall in love with, his answer never would’ve been an Irish cop. Kane and his protective, fierce, giving heart wasn’t anyone Miki could have dreamed up. There’d been no affection for him, no hugs that led to foul things, and certainly no kisses meant to soothe away any hurts. Loving Damien had been training wheels and how to open up his heart—fuck, how to find his heart—so while Miki knew how love felt, he hadn’t been prepared for how it would consume him.
God, how his love for Kane consumed him.
He reached for the lube first, stealing it out of Kane’s reach. His body tightened with the expectation of being filled with the thick shaft he cradled against the curve of his ass. Lifting his hips, Miki mourned the loss of the heat of Kane between his thighs but knew that in a few moments, he would experience a heat he could only find with Kane. The oily salve poured between his fingers when he tilted the bottle, and Kane let go of a low laugh at the splatter of fragrant lotion on his leg and hips. A gasp soon followed when Miki’s fingers closed over his cock, the long slow stroke of oil on his skin hardening Kane in Miki’s loose grip.
“You keep that up, a ghra, and I am never going to get inside of you in time,” he rasped. Miki shot him a mischievous smirk, slowly circling Kane’s cock head with his thumb. Kane’s hips twitched between Miki’s legs and he growled, “There’s only so much a man can stand, Mick. You’re about reaching the end of my limit.”
“We just got started,” Miki reminded him, fluttering another touch around Kane’s slit.
“It doesn’t take much of you to drive me crazy,” Kane responded, sliding his hands down Miki’s back. Spreading his cheeks apart, he slid his cock into the crevice. “I could lose myself right now.”
“That would suck pretty badly.” Canting forward, Miki slid Kane’s cock head against his entrance. “Considering I kind of need you hard for what I want to do to you.”
The anticipation of having Kane inside of him tightened his nerves and sent a shudder through him. If there was a way to prolong Kane pushing into him, Miki hadn’t found it. He loved the initial press of length against his ring and then the sliding rush of Kane’s shaft into an emptiness he’d never thought he’d want filled.
He used to fear being touched, being stroked. It’d taken all of his willpower and strength to hold still when Damien held him for the first time, a seemingly meaningless gesture after their first successful gig, but it had been enough to drive Miki to the bathroom sink to empty everything he’d eaten. That was how Damien found him, opening the door to a conversation Miki never wanted to have—never imagined having—where he told another living soul what had been done to him and someone finally believed him.
With Kane, it was even more of everything Miki had been taught to fear.
But with Kane, it was now everything he’d learned to love.
The scent of sweet almond lubricant made his mouth water. The brush of Kane’s callused fingers along his cock or belly made him hard. When Kane’s mouth closed over Miki’s nipple, he let himself fall into the pleasure of feeling it all the way down to his toes. Nothing would ever take away how much joy he now found in the sensual exploration of a man he’d come to cherish—of a man he would give anything to—including himself.
That first push—shit, that first push—made Miki arch his back, opening himself to take Kane in. His cop went slow, easing past the tightness he found at Miki’s entrance. The theft of Miki’s breath seemed inevitable, especially when, despite the countless hours they’d shared in each other’s bodies, Kane was nearly too thick for Miki to handle.
Or maybe he was just too scared to admit how much he wanted Kane inside of him.
Not now. Not naked and mewling with need. Poised and breached by Kane’s shaft, Miki had to fight not to sink himself in one swift move. That would hurt, his brain whispered. But it would feel so fucking good, his body reminded him.
Seating himself made Kane growl and hiss. His lover’s fingers tightened on Miki’s hips, dimpling his skin nearly hard enough to leave bruises. Or they might leave bruises, Miki didn’t care. Nothing made him feel more alive than riding Kane’s muscular, long body. The sinewy strength and give of his moving thighs under Miki’s ass always seemed to match the rhythm of Miki’s heartbeat. Sex with Kane was like finding music in the folds of a rainbow and a stormy sky. Bursts of color and sensation, hammered into the steel threads of craving more. The crinkle of Kane’s hair at Miki’s thighs tickled but then turned erotic when the heat of their bodies brought up the musk of their skin.
Kane struck that spark in Miki’s body, and he reached out, pressing his palms into Kane’s shoulders to let the lightning riding his spine loose. Chasing the sensation, Miki ground his hips, gyrating with long powerful strokes down Kane’s cock. His cop’s skin grew slippery, slick with sweat but still sweet from the faint traces of lube from Miki’s fingers.
Another stroke of lightning and Miki was almost lost.
“Turn us over,” Miki said, tugging at Kane’s arm. “I want you on top of me.”
“That I can do, a ghra,” Kane said through gritted teeth. “Hold on to me.”
Sex was never elegant. There were times of lazy, drifting pleasure, and sometimes they’d lost themselves in the pounding pleasures racing toward the climax. Elbows and knees never seemed to work properly—not that Miki’s old scars were any help—and there’d been more than a few instances where one or both of them had ended up on the floor because they had misjudged the edge of the bed.
Not this time. Not this joining of who they were into what they’d become.
They moved easily, barely missing a stroke, and if Miki had any complaints it was that Kane needed to go harder, go faster. A few muttered words and Kane eagerly complied, pressing Miki back into the sheets and rocking his hips until the slap of their skin nearly stung with each thrust.
“Not going to last.” Kane bit at the curve of Miki’s neck and shoulder. There would be no hiding the bruise. “The things you do to me, Mick. God in heaven, I can’t hold on.”
The stretching grew intense and the thrusting of Kane’s cock against the nerves inside of Miki’s body broke his mind apart. He no longer fought the pleasure rising to drown him. He couldn’t. He couldn’t stop the wave of sharp threads cutting through his reason, slicing through his control. And when Kane’s lips found his, his tongue plunging into Miki’s mouth, licking and penetrating the depths there, Miki surrendered.
Giving Kane everything he had inside, then taking everything Kane had to give.
He held on as tight as he could, but Miki knew he’d be swept away. It hit him hard, stealing away every whisper of air in his lungs and then every drop in his release. The splash of his orgasm took him by surprise despite the vortex he’d climbed to reach his breaking point. The wind they’d built between them caught him, throwing them back into the storm, and for a brief moment—or maybe an eternity—Miki flew.
And as he began to spiral down, Kane was there to catch him.
“I love you above all others,” Kane whispered—or maybe shouted—into Miki’s ear. It was hard to hear amid the rush of blood through his veins and the final throes of his release, but Miki felt Kane’s words, taking them into his heart. “I will always be yours. Always.”
His lover filled him with a gush of hot liquid and ravaged his mouth with kisses. His lips were swollen from Kane’s small bites and his hips ached, complaining that his thighs had been spread apart for so long. He was sticky with sweat and come, but Miki was reluctant to let Kane go.
“Stay here.” Miki ignored the pangs resonating through his body. He tightened down on Kane’s softening length, wanting to hold him there for a little bit more. “Don’t go just yet.”
“I’m going to be too heavy on you soon.” Kane stroked at Miki’s sweaty hair, pushing it back away from his face. “Are you okay? Are you good?”
“Yeah, I’m good. Better now that you and I…” He hated the burn of embarrassment across his cheeks nearly as much as he loathed the feeling of Kane sliding out of him. Sighing in resignation, Miki let himself get scrubbed off with the shirt he’d stolen from Kane’s pile of clothes, then stretched out on the bed, watching his cop climb onto the mattress. “Give me five minutes. I might want you again.”
Flopping on his back next to Miki, Kane tangled their fingers together. “I’m old, a ghra. You’re going to have to give me more than five minutes.”
“Okay,” Miki conceded. “I’ll give you ten.”
They lay next to each other, shoulders touching for nearly all of Kane’s five minutes. Then his cop said, “Are you sure you’re okay? A little while ago—”
“I was scared.” Acknowledging his monsters was easier when he was the only one who saw them, but Miki knew he was only fooling himself. Kane saw everything, knew everything, and would push if Miki tried to avoid talking about the shadows stalking him. “I don’t know why. I just felt like I needed to be alone with you, and out there it was too open. I was too open. Or maybe I just didn’t want to share us. I don’t know. I just felt like I needed to be here with you. And not fucked on the counters, because that’s a house rule.”
“That’s the first thing we’re going to do when Damien and Sionn move next door.” Kane reached over and tapped Miki’s nose. “We’re going to resanctify every flat surface in this place.”
Miki tilted his chin up, meeting Kane’s playful gaze. “Do you mind if they stay here for a little bit? I don’t know if I’m ready. Not for a long time, but maybe just until all of this is done?”
Kane’s kiss was gentle and too brief for Miki’s liking. “Babe, I don’t care if they never move out. I just want you to be happy. And for some reason, that means your brother, Damien.”
“And the dog,” Miki grumbled back.
“Well, most of the time, I like the dog.” Kane grunted when Miki’s elbow found his ribs. “Damie’s okay. It’s Sionn I can’t wait to get rid of. I worked too hard to move out of my family’s house, and here I am with my cousin right upstairs. And before you jab at me again, I’m joking. They can stay until whenever you or they feel like it’s time to go. It’s not like the two of you aren’t going to be living in each other’s pockets anyway. It’s just going to be a matter of what side of the wall we’re going to find you on.”
“I need to find me,” he admitted, whispering up into the dimness above them. It felt good to say, especially while holding Kane’s hand. “When you called me to tell me about that guy’s murder today, all I could think about was how maybe no one cared that he was gone. I mean, if that guy in Vegas was his brother, then I don’t know. My brain is kind of like a salad today. There’s just so much stuff going on inside of my head, and I think I expect you to help me find the edge of all of the noise.”
“I will always be here, remember?” Kane pulled Miki closer. “I love you. I will always love you. No matter what happens, I will always be here for you.”
“I’ve been thinking about that too,” Miki confessed. What he longed to say was a risk, but it was one Miki knew he had to take. They’d been through too much, loved fiercely, and fit into each other in ways Miki still couldn’t quite understand but would mourn the loss.
“You doubt I’d be here for you?” Kane gave him a confused look. “What do I have to do to convince you, a ghra? How many more times do you have to hear me tell you I love you before you believe me?”
“I do believe you.” Miki pushed himself up, resting his weight on an elbow so he could see Kane’s face. “I know that you’d be here for me. But I also know that there are times you wonder if I’ll be there for you.”
“I’ve never—”
“Maybe not you, but the rest of the world,” Miki murmured. “So, I’d like you to marry me, K. I want to make you my family, because no matter who you find—whatever fucking parent or anything I have out there—I want you to remember that I have you first. That I love you and I never ever want to lose you. I can’t ever go back to how I was—when I was lost before—when I was so fucking alone. So, K, will you make me your family? For real?”