FIC: While I'm Tearing at the Seams (1/1) NC17
While I’m Tearing at the Seams
Summary: Conjob, you got some ‘splaning to do. Sixth in the series started with “Almost Me” that remains unnamed. ::starts looking for some kid named Bastian for aide:: so sequel to “Almost Me”, “If the Whole World Burns”, “Between My Mouth and My Brain”, “A Smile Tugs Upon My Soul” and “Horrid Tales of You”
Ship: X/John Constantine, mention of G/JC
Rating: NC-17 (wow, my first one)
Feedback: Um…please? Feedback makes our writing English good.
Set: Post-”Chosen”
Disclaimer: I own nothing. No one. Nada.
Distribution: Put my name on it and put it up and tell me where to squee.
Dedication: Once again to CCCarioca, for he is wonderful and evil, and also to all those people who looked at the -Constantine- casting choices and went “WTF?”
Notes: Once again, John comes from “Hellblazer”. If you want to find out more about him, look him up that way.
Notes2: First = First of the Fallen. Not a huge logical step, no? Okay…just so that we’re clear.
------------------------------------
I heard the door close with a loose clap, followed by a flurry of quick steps on the noisy marble floor of the hallway, and my throat went dry as my heart dropped to my shoes. Ripper picked up on it a second later.
“Oh bloody hell, he-”
“He was listening.” I finished for him, my mind working at a thousand miles a minute, driving headfirst into the land of bloody fucking shit. “How long was he listening, Rip? What did he hear? What did he make of it? What-’
“I-”
“Fucking hell, Ripper, what did he hear?” I shouted, turning to him angrily. If this screwed everything up, if I screwed everything…God, I didn’t even want to bloody think of it. I wasn’t going to start swearing about what I’d do, or who I’d kill, or how my life was going to be an absolute wasteland without him. I’ve been through too much shit and too many people for anything like that. I just knew I didn’t bloody want him gone, and I sure as hell wasn’t gonna let the boy go without a fight.
Faster then I thought the old bones could carry me, I pushed past Ripper (stupid bugger’d tried to calm me down) and nearly brained m’self with the door. It was a swinger, so the impact wasn’t too bad, but it almost smacked me in the arse as I slid a bit on the marble.
I couldn’t see my boy in the darker hallway, and the slapping of shoe to marble was echoing around so bad I’d have needed bat’s ears to make any sense of it, but I’m John bloody Constantine, and if I couldn’t find a one-eyed carpenter, I wasn’t worth the silk cuts in my pocket.
A little bit of focus, and a trick or two pulled from the sleeve had me heading left down the hallway, then right, on a good run down a straightaway, and led me to a large ornate wooden door. It was a bit fancier then I thought he’d favor, but then I remembered some of the wooden trinkets he’d given me.
My hand shot down into one of the countless pockets of my coat. Every bit of that jacket was filled with spell work, various charms and protections and all of that shit, ‘cept for that pocket. In that pocket was a little cross Xander’d given me three months past. My fingers curled round the little piece of wood, and one traced the knot-work Xander’d etched into it like a pro while waiting for me at the pub one time. It was as well done as the door, and with a smile, I realized that Xander had probably picked the door because he wanted to study it. The boy didn’t have a speck of ostentation in his blood.
I stared at the door for a bit longer before realizing I didn’t know what to fuck I was going to say.
Our relationship, well…It’d never been anything specific that made it work. Xander and I weren’t really the romantic light-show-of-passion type really. We’d just…I was what he needed, and he was what I needed. He’d made me smile, and I’d let him, and that made him better.
It didn’t hurt that the sex was great. Xander was eager…and skilled…and equipped…and practically psychic when it came to knowing what I wanted. He knew when I wanted it slow, when I just wanted someone to be there with me in the dark. He knew when all I wanted was to get fucked through the mattress, when I wanted to scream and beg and ache in the morning. He knew when I wanted to wake up in his arms, and he knew when I wanted to wake up alone, have my time.
I think that’s what it came down to, really. He knew me. Maybe he didn’t know all of the details; he sure as fuck hadn’t known about Ripper and I. But, when it came down to it, Xander knew more then anyone else ever had about one John Constantine. He knew what made me tick and what made me hurt and what made me fight and what made me love and what made me scream. And unlike the rest of the people who thought they knew me, Xander knew enough when to stop looking. Not because he didn’t want to know.
Hell, he probably knew.
But he stopped looking because when it was time to come out, he figured it was my business to do it.
I might’ve loved him for that.
I gained a bit of courage from that thought and finally knocked on the stupid door. From behind the wood, I could hear a split-second shuffle, followed by silence. It’d startled him.
Dear God, did the boy think I wasn’t going to come after him?
Pissed by his lack of faith in me, I knocked again. This time I had to wait a bit for him to move, and it was slow when he did. I heard him until it seemed as if he was right in front of the door. I could see him in my head, staring at the other side of that door, knowing I was on this side, seeing me in his head, staring at the door…and that’s when the mental image stopped because I was too busy to make that make any sort of sense.
When the door finally opened, I was confronted with the deadliest puppy dog eye I’d ever seen; it was like a soddin’ SCUD missle aimed right at my chest. How he managed to do that with just the one, I don’t know. All I knew was that I was confused, and he was confused, and we were both hurting like fuck, and I wanted to touch him but I probably shouldn’t. I’d learned over the months that touch was important to Xander; it was as easy to step in it with the wrong touch as it was to use the wrong words. I had to handle things careful with him, or he’d go on a dead run and I’d never be able to find him in this giant bloody labyrinth.
“Xander, I-”
I was suddenly stopped by warm lips and rough hands pulling me into the room, and throwing me rough on to a large four-poster. Not what I was bloody expecting, but better then it could have been.
I tried his name, but I didn’t even get to the end of the first bit before that mouth descended on me again, this time striking at my neck with a warm, wet, and above all, skillful, flick that sent my heart racing in all the good ways. Now, I’m not one to stop what was shaping up to be amazing sex for small talk, but I was going to have to if I wanted answers.
“Xander, I-”
And suddenly, my world was that eye again. Love was in there, and a good bit of red-blooded lust was too, I’ll admit, but it was the first bit that caught my attention. I knew my boy, and I knew how much he thought of me, but I’d never gotten a look like that. Not from him; not from nobody. It took my bloody breath away so I had to take another one to finish my sentence.
“I don’t know what-”
Xander’s work-callused finger suddenly pressed my lips closed.
“I don’t care,” he said finally, completely shocking me. A goofy smile crossed his face. “So you ‘shagged’ Giles back in the old days? So what? I wanted to go after the librarian back when I was a teenager, so we’re in the same boat. Guess I just like British older men. Now, I was in the middle of ravishing you and-”
Sodding hell, but it took all my willpower to resist the power of that naughty grin. But when I pulled his face up to look at mine, I got glared at.
“Xander, I-”
Could the boy let me finish this fucking sentence even once?
“John, you have a past. So do I. Yay for us. I was confused for a minute, spooked really, but right now, I really just want to have sex with you, as hot and loud as I can.”
Sounded good to me. “But-”
He glowered at me, and the words died in my throat.
“John, you‘re here. It‘s enough.” There was a pause as he took a good long look at me. “Man, you make me so-”
“Horny?” I offered with an easy smile.
The goofy grin was back.
“That too.” and he kissed me. It was just a brush, but I could feel all the sweetness of his mouth and it made me even happier he wasn‘t being all poncy about Ripper and me. This was so much better then a long talk. It’s rare that things settle themselves for me, but I sure as hell wasn’t about the question it again.
He thrust against me, and I didn’t think I would be able to question anything for a while cause of the stars. Hard and hot. Hard and hot and mine.
And then his hand was on the button of my slacks and my eyes rolled as he managed to press against me. He leaned forward then, ran his tongue up my collarbone and neck with little swirls and flicks, and whispered into my ear as those talented fingers worked the opening of my slacks.
“You thought I was worth running after-”
The zipper went down and gods above, they were talented fingers. One hand reached in, gentle as can be despite the hunger I’d seen lurking in his eyes, and wrapped around me and me bloody brain started to melt, right off.
The other hand managed to get m’slacks off quick, and then a lovely tongue was writing in warm tingles up and down me. In my defense, I managed to stay pretty coherent until he started gently kneadin’ my knackers; after that, it was anyone’s guess where my bloody brain went. I was grabbing his shoulders so hard it must’ve hurt, but it felt so fucking good. No guilt, no worries: just an amazing fucking blowjob.
“Fuckin’ hell, Xan.” I heard myself gasp out. “Oh god. Fuck. Yes. Yes. Fuck…”
Finally, he stopped teasing with the little licks and flicks and started with long, hard strokes of his tongue. The pressure was drivin‘ me wild, and I could feel the edge of his teeth trail lightly over me as he made each stroke, suppressing a shiver from it. He went back to the light teasing licks before he suddenly took me in as far as I’d go, which is farther than you’d think on a boy who just started with blokes sixth months ago. I’ve never liked the bloody things, but someday I’ll have to thank whatever company puts out those Twinkie things he likes so much.
He looked up at me then, to see my reaction, and chuckled softly at what he‘d managed to do to me, which made things all the better. My hand wandered into his hair, which is too soft to hold on to properly, and I took hold of him. Not to guide him, not by any means since he was doin’ just fine on his own, but to keep from falling over. Up and down, in and out, so hot and sweet and perfect and I screamed as I came, screamed his name loud enough for anyone in the whole bloody mansion to hear.
My hand let go of his hair, and I fell back onto the bed completely lifeless. I felt some movement, but couldn’t be bothered to see what it was; the fucking First could’ve curled up to me and I wouldn’t have cared. Luckily for my survival (and my already shaky soul), it was just Xander. I felt warm, familiar, skin slide up my torso just before slightly salty lips dropped a soft kiss.
I managed to open one eyelid to take in the sight of my boy staring at me. He kissed me again, just a peck, and I felt a grin stretch across my face.
“Sorry fer noddin‘ off on you…” I got out in what was more of a purr then anything else.
There was a sideways shrug, and I rolled my eyes at him as I reached down. He did the work of buttons and zippers, making it right simple, and I took him in my hand. Soft skin over hard flesh, warm and smooth and just a little damp, complete with little moaning noises, once I started to stroke him.
Caught his mouth with my own, and ran my tongue over his lips until they opened with a gasp. I pulled my other hand from under me so it could be useful, and got to work on opening the top buttons. I figured I’d get to the nipples in a few seconds, but I spent some time petting his neck with the lightest touches. You’d be amazed at how sensitive he is between neck and shoulder; more then once, I’ve turned the boy into a boneless heap by petting him there. It’s a right nice little bonus of him being so tactile.
This time, it relaxed him quick, which made opening his shirt even easier as he’d rolled lifelessly from his side to his back. I was still stroking him, now a bit gentler to lull him into a haze, as I got the buttons done. Once that bloody thing was open, I attacked one of his nipples with my mouth and got a low moan in reply.
I started to move the fingers on his neck faster and faster to appreciative gasps, went after the other nub with teeth and tongue, and started pumping him a bit harder. I was rewarded with a long stream of nonsense from my boy, who’s eye was rolled back and fluttering.
“God, John.” he got out in a tortured groan, “God God God God…”
I grinned down at him. “That’s right, boy. You’re mine. I’m your fuckin’ savior, I am.”
The eye focused just a bit, and as much of an amused grin as he could summon at the moment ran across his face.
“Love you.”
The last syllable was more screamed then spoken as he came in my hand and promptly passed out. Wiping most of the mess off with a corner of the sheets, I grinned down at my boy, all laid out and deliciously debauched by yours truly. Gently, so’s I didn’t wake him, I ran my hand through his hair and placed a small kiss on his forehead.
“Love you too, you tosser. Don’t know how long I’ll have you, but I’m loving every bloody second of it.”
I glanced to the door to check, now of all times, to see if it was locked; it was. Satisfied no one would walk in, I pulled the both of us further on the bed till I could get Xander’s head on a pillow, and nestled down next to him to nod off myself. Almost automatically, his arms wrapped around me and he burrowed his head into my chest.
“What was that?” I asked, hearing a noise from the curly mass.
Slowly, obviously still groggy, Xander looked up at me before giving me a sleepy head butt.
“As long…as you want me.” And then he dropped off again.
I looked at him again and felt my chest tighten. God, I wanted him. I wanted that. And I knew, like I knew that I didn’t fucking deserve him, that I wouldn’t have him that long.
The End
Well, sorry it took so long. If I told you how annoying Xander and John were about talking to each other for a while, you wouldn’t believe me. Fricking stubborn bastards! Anyway, yeah. Happy and cute and of course, it’s still John. I’ve got some plans for the next one, but nothing definite.
Summary: Conjob, you got some ‘splaning to do. Sixth in the series started with “Almost Me” that remains unnamed. ::starts looking for some kid named Bastian for aide:: so sequel to “Almost Me”, “If the Whole World Burns”, “Between My Mouth and My Brain”, “A Smile Tugs Upon My Soul” and “Horrid Tales of You”
Ship: X/John Constantine, mention of G/JC
Rating: NC-17 (wow, my first one)
Feedback: Um…please? Feedback makes our writing English good.
Set: Post-”Chosen”
Disclaimer: I own nothing. No one. Nada.
Distribution: Put my name on it and put it up and tell me where to squee.
Dedication: Once again to CCCarioca, for he is wonderful and evil, and also to all those people who looked at the -Constantine- casting choices and went “WTF?”
Notes: Once again, John comes from “Hellblazer”. If you want to find out more about him, look him up that way.
Notes2: First = First of the Fallen. Not a huge logical step, no? Okay…just so that we’re clear.
------------------------------------
I heard the door close with a loose clap, followed by a flurry of quick steps on the noisy marble floor of the hallway, and my throat went dry as my heart dropped to my shoes. Ripper picked up on it a second later.
“Oh bloody hell, he-”
“He was listening.” I finished for him, my mind working at a thousand miles a minute, driving headfirst into the land of bloody fucking shit. “How long was he listening, Rip? What did he hear? What did he make of it? What-’
“I-”
“Fucking hell, Ripper, what did he hear?” I shouted, turning to him angrily. If this screwed everything up, if I screwed everything…God, I didn’t even want to bloody think of it. I wasn’t going to start swearing about what I’d do, or who I’d kill, or how my life was going to be an absolute wasteland without him. I’ve been through too much shit and too many people for anything like that. I just knew I didn’t bloody want him gone, and I sure as hell wasn’t gonna let the boy go without a fight.
Faster then I thought the old bones could carry me, I pushed past Ripper (stupid bugger’d tried to calm me down) and nearly brained m’self with the door. It was a swinger, so the impact wasn’t too bad, but it almost smacked me in the arse as I slid a bit on the marble.
I couldn’t see my boy in the darker hallway, and the slapping of shoe to marble was echoing around so bad I’d have needed bat’s ears to make any sense of it, but I’m John bloody Constantine, and if I couldn’t find a one-eyed carpenter, I wasn’t worth the silk cuts in my pocket.
A little bit of focus, and a trick or two pulled from the sleeve had me heading left down the hallway, then right, on a good run down a straightaway, and led me to a large ornate wooden door. It was a bit fancier then I thought he’d favor, but then I remembered some of the wooden trinkets he’d given me.
My hand shot down into one of the countless pockets of my coat. Every bit of that jacket was filled with spell work, various charms and protections and all of that shit, ‘cept for that pocket. In that pocket was a little cross Xander’d given me three months past. My fingers curled round the little piece of wood, and one traced the knot-work Xander’d etched into it like a pro while waiting for me at the pub one time. It was as well done as the door, and with a smile, I realized that Xander had probably picked the door because he wanted to study it. The boy didn’t have a speck of ostentation in his blood.
I stared at the door for a bit longer before realizing I didn’t know what to fuck I was going to say.
Our relationship, well…It’d never been anything specific that made it work. Xander and I weren’t really the romantic light-show-of-passion type really. We’d just…I was what he needed, and he was what I needed. He’d made me smile, and I’d let him, and that made him better.
It didn’t hurt that the sex was great. Xander was eager…and skilled…and equipped…and practically psychic when it came to knowing what I wanted. He knew when I wanted it slow, when I just wanted someone to be there with me in the dark. He knew when all I wanted was to get fucked through the mattress, when I wanted to scream and beg and ache in the morning. He knew when I wanted to wake up in his arms, and he knew when I wanted to wake up alone, have my time.
I think that’s what it came down to, really. He knew me. Maybe he didn’t know all of the details; he sure as fuck hadn’t known about Ripper and I. But, when it came down to it, Xander knew more then anyone else ever had about one John Constantine. He knew what made me tick and what made me hurt and what made me fight and what made me love and what made me scream. And unlike the rest of the people who thought they knew me, Xander knew enough when to stop looking. Not because he didn’t want to know.
Hell, he probably knew.
But he stopped looking because when it was time to come out, he figured it was my business to do it.
I might’ve loved him for that.
I gained a bit of courage from that thought and finally knocked on the stupid door. From behind the wood, I could hear a split-second shuffle, followed by silence. It’d startled him.
Dear God, did the boy think I wasn’t going to come after him?
Pissed by his lack of faith in me, I knocked again. This time I had to wait a bit for him to move, and it was slow when he did. I heard him until it seemed as if he was right in front of the door. I could see him in my head, staring at the other side of that door, knowing I was on this side, seeing me in his head, staring at the door…and that’s when the mental image stopped because I was too busy to make that make any sort of sense.
When the door finally opened, I was confronted with the deadliest puppy dog eye I’d ever seen; it was like a soddin’ SCUD missle aimed right at my chest. How he managed to do that with just the one, I don’t know. All I knew was that I was confused, and he was confused, and we were both hurting like fuck, and I wanted to touch him but I probably shouldn’t. I’d learned over the months that touch was important to Xander; it was as easy to step in it with the wrong touch as it was to use the wrong words. I had to handle things careful with him, or he’d go on a dead run and I’d never be able to find him in this giant bloody labyrinth.
“Xander, I-”
I was suddenly stopped by warm lips and rough hands pulling me into the room, and throwing me rough on to a large four-poster. Not what I was bloody expecting, but better then it could have been.
I tried his name, but I didn’t even get to the end of the first bit before that mouth descended on me again, this time striking at my neck with a warm, wet, and above all, skillful, flick that sent my heart racing in all the good ways. Now, I’m not one to stop what was shaping up to be amazing sex for small talk, but I was going to have to if I wanted answers.
“Xander, I-”
And suddenly, my world was that eye again. Love was in there, and a good bit of red-blooded lust was too, I’ll admit, but it was the first bit that caught my attention. I knew my boy, and I knew how much he thought of me, but I’d never gotten a look like that. Not from him; not from nobody. It took my bloody breath away so I had to take another one to finish my sentence.
“I don’t know what-”
Xander’s work-callused finger suddenly pressed my lips closed.
“I don’t care,” he said finally, completely shocking me. A goofy smile crossed his face. “So you ‘shagged’ Giles back in the old days? So what? I wanted to go after the librarian back when I was a teenager, so we’re in the same boat. Guess I just like British older men. Now, I was in the middle of ravishing you and-”
Sodding hell, but it took all my willpower to resist the power of that naughty grin. But when I pulled his face up to look at mine, I got glared at.
“Xander, I-”
Could the boy let me finish this fucking sentence even once?
“John, you have a past. So do I. Yay for us. I was confused for a minute, spooked really, but right now, I really just want to have sex with you, as hot and loud as I can.”
Sounded good to me. “But-”
He glowered at me, and the words died in my throat.
“John, you‘re here. It‘s enough.” There was a pause as he took a good long look at me. “Man, you make me so-”
“Horny?” I offered with an easy smile.
The goofy grin was back.
“That too.” and he kissed me. It was just a brush, but I could feel all the sweetness of his mouth and it made me even happier he wasn‘t being all poncy about Ripper and me. This was so much better then a long talk. It’s rare that things settle themselves for me, but I sure as hell wasn’t about the question it again.
He thrust against me, and I didn’t think I would be able to question anything for a while cause of the stars. Hard and hot. Hard and hot and mine.
And then his hand was on the button of my slacks and my eyes rolled as he managed to press against me. He leaned forward then, ran his tongue up my collarbone and neck with little swirls and flicks, and whispered into my ear as those talented fingers worked the opening of my slacks.
“You thought I was worth running after-”
The zipper went down and gods above, they were talented fingers. One hand reached in, gentle as can be despite the hunger I’d seen lurking in his eyes, and wrapped around me and me bloody brain started to melt, right off.
The other hand managed to get m’slacks off quick, and then a lovely tongue was writing in warm tingles up and down me. In my defense, I managed to stay pretty coherent until he started gently kneadin’ my knackers; after that, it was anyone’s guess where my bloody brain went. I was grabbing his shoulders so hard it must’ve hurt, but it felt so fucking good. No guilt, no worries: just an amazing fucking blowjob.
“Fuckin’ hell, Xan.” I heard myself gasp out. “Oh god. Fuck. Yes. Yes. Fuck…”
Finally, he stopped teasing with the little licks and flicks and started with long, hard strokes of his tongue. The pressure was drivin‘ me wild, and I could feel the edge of his teeth trail lightly over me as he made each stroke, suppressing a shiver from it. He went back to the light teasing licks before he suddenly took me in as far as I’d go, which is farther than you’d think on a boy who just started with blokes sixth months ago. I’ve never liked the bloody things, but someday I’ll have to thank whatever company puts out those Twinkie things he likes so much.
He looked up at me then, to see my reaction, and chuckled softly at what he‘d managed to do to me, which made things all the better. My hand wandered into his hair, which is too soft to hold on to properly, and I took hold of him. Not to guide him, not by any means since he was doin’ just fine on his own, but to keep from falling over. Up and down, in and out, so hot and sweet and perfect and I screamed as I came, screamed his name loud enough for anyone in the whole bloody mansion to hear.
My hand let go of his hair, and I fell back onto the bed completely lifeless. I felt some movement, but couldn’t be bothered to see what it was; the fucking First could’ve curled up to me and I wouldn’t have cared. Luckily for my survival (and my already shaky soul), it was just Xander. I felt warm, familiar, skin slide up my torso just before slightly salty lips dropped a soft kiss.
I managed to open one eyelid to take in the sight of my boy staring at me. He kissed me again, just a peck, and I felt a grin stretch across my face.
“Sorry fer noddin‘ off on you…” I got out in what was more of a purr then anything else.
There was a sideways shrug, and I rolled my eyes at him as I reached down. He did the work of buttons and zippers, making it right simple, and I took him in my hand. Soft skin over hard flesh, warm and smooth and just a little damp, complete with little moaning noises, once I started to stroke him.
Caught his mouth with my own, and ran my tongue over his lips until they opened with a gasp. I pulled my other hand from under me so it could be useful, and got to work on opening the top buttons. I figured I’d get to the nipples in a few seconds, but I spent some time petting his neck with the lightest touches. You’d be amazed at how sensitive he is between neck and shoulder; more then once, I’ve turned the boy into a boneless heap by petting him there. It’s a right nice little bonus of him being so tactile.
This time, it relaxed him quick, which made opening his shirt even easier as he’d rolled lifelessly from his side to his back. I was still stroking him, now a bit gentler to lull him into a haze, as I got the buttons done. Once that bloody thing was open, I attacked one of his nipples with my mouth and got a low moan in reply.
I started to move the fingers on his neck faster and faster to appreciative gasps, went after the other nub with teeth and tongue, and started pumping him a bit harder. I was rewarded with a long stream of nonsense from my boy, who’s eye was rolled back and fluttering.
“God, John.” he got out in a tortured groan, “God God God God…”
I grinned down at him. “That’s right, boy. You’re mine. I’m your fuckin’ savior, I am.”
The eye focused just a bit, and as much of an amused grin as he could summon at the moment ran across his face.
“Love you.”
The last syllable was more screamed then spoken as he came in my hand and promptly passed out. Wiping most of the mess off with a corner of the sheets, I grinned down at my boy, all laid out and deliciously debauched by yours truly. Gently, so’s I didn’t wake him, I ran my hand through his hair and placed a small kiss on his forehead.
“Love you too, you tosser. Don’t know how long I’ll have you, but I’m loving every bloody second of it.”
I glanced to the door to check, now of all times, to see if it was locked; it was. Satisfied no one would walk in, I pulled the both of us further on the bed till I could get Xander’s head on a pillow, and nestled down next to him to nod off myself. Almost automatically, his arms wrapped around me and he burrowed his head into my chest.
“What was that?” I asked, hearing a noise from the curly mass.
Slowly, obviously still groggy, Xander looked up at me before giving me a sleepy head butt.
“As long…as you want me.” And then he dropped off again.
I looked at him again and felt my chest tighten. God, I wanted him. I wanted that. And I knew, like I knew that I didn’t fucking deserve him, that I wouldn’t have him that long.
The End
Well, sorry it took so long. If I told you how annoying Xander and John were about talking to each other for a while, you wouldn’t believe me. Fricking stubborn bastards! Anyway, yeah. Happy and cute and of course, it’s still John. I’ve got some plans for the next one, but nothing definite.