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♫ No. 1 Party Anthem - Artic Monkeys
(Because I like to think it's the yearning anthem)
Sometimes, more often than you’d think, two souls are born connected. Rare as it is, owners of bonds such as these regularly go their entire lives with no clue as to the identity of their connection.
Well, until the switch, anyway.
Happening at a random point in a person’s life, the ‘switch’ is the only intervention, the only hint afforded to humanity from the Gods above, is a brief, conscious transference, where each member of a soul bond will inhabit the other’s corporal form for a short period of time. These swaps rarely bring any results and are, more often than not, profoundly unhelpful due to their limited nature and disorientating effects.
Some people, however, are luckier than others.
Zedaph
The first thing he noticed upon waking was how warm he was.
…The second thing he noticed was the sharp tip of a sword pointing directly at his throat.
Upon reflection, that probably should’ve been the first thing, but hey, can’t blame a guy for being in tune with his senses, especially when he’d just been so cold-
“It’s over!”
Zedaph jerked his head upward at the cry, still blinking slowly as he desperately tried to reorientate himself, head spinning with the sudden change in scenery.
Why was he outside?
“You tell him, Dubs!” Zedaph looked to his left and was surprised to see Etho standing there; he hadn’t seen the man around all that much recently and had assumed he was taking a break for his own sanity.
“Etho?” He asked, tilting his head to the side in curiosity.
Both men ignored him, and Bdubs proceeded in his ‘intimidation,’ jabbing his sword forward purposefully, nicking the man’s stubbled neck and drawing blood.
Zedaph gasped at the injury, bringing an offended hand up to the cut.
“Ow!” He cried instinctively, laughing with confusion as he used his legs to push himself backwards on the damp grass, away from Bdubs and his frankly, rather sharp sword.
His bemused smile turned into a frown as Bdubs advanced further, pressing one knee to the ground beside Zedaph’s head, sword still held tightly in his grip.
“Bdubs!” He squeaked, taken aback at the uncharacteristic violence from the builder.
“-Goodness gracious- Jesus Christ, man, what did I do to you?!”
He froze at the voice that had just left his throat.
A voice he’d recognise anywhere, under any circumstances.
Oh… shit.
Zedaph watched silently as Bdubs halted momentarily and used this time to (very slowly, after taking a large, calming breath) look down at himself.
Iron armour, a black undershirt, and a pair of red cargos stared back at him.
It wasn’t possible. It couldn’t be possible.
And yet-
“Unbelievable!” His attacker snapped, bringing Zed back to reality.
Bdubs looked around indignantly, presumably at the people surrounding them who had been whooping and booing throughout the course of their conversation.
Zedaph followed his lead, taking in the crowd that had amassed. Consisting of somewhere between five and ten people, the gathering was mostly made up of hermits, all looking rather eager at the prospect of a fight.
It was the presence of a handful of strangers that confirmed Zedaph’s suspicions however. He wasn’t in his laboratory anymore, wasn’t even on Hermitcraft.
No, he knew exactly where he was.
And, to his immense… (well, he had several feelings about the implications of this scenario, all too intense to unpack right now). But to his… for now he’d just go with ‘surprise,’ Zedaph knew exactly whose body he was currently inhabiting.
Looking down at him, amongst the gaggle of Hermits, was a blonde man standing next to Mumbo, sporting what was perhaps the largest shit-eating grin he’d ever seen, Zed didn’t recognise him but it was clear he was having the time of his life. There was also a gorgeous lady with pale pink hair, who seemed… vaguely familiar? She was watching their altercation from between her fingers and looked about as stressed as Zedaph was feeling.
Bdubs began speaking once more, and it took all of his racing mind and heart to focus back on what he was saying rather than focussing on the implications of what this meant. God, this was-
“Unbelievable!” Bdubs repeated.
“-This guy steals my cows, parades their milk in front of me and then claims he’s innocent!”
Zed tried hard not to laugh at that, knowing full well that the real Tango was absolutely guilty of the crime he was currently being accused of.
“Bdubs…” he tried his hardest to sound genuine. “Listen-”
His friend scoffed. “You ain’t gonna fool me this time, Tango! Everybody knows it was you!”
Tango.
His lips moved slowly to mouth the name.
So it was true, they’d actually switched, this was genuinely, actually, like- really happening.
The itch, the need to check his soul mark burned so intensely that the sheep hybrid could’ve sworn the skin above his- well, Tango’s heart was almost pulsing with trepidation. Had it changed colour? It must have, it- this must be it.
It had to be.
And yet he didn’t dare believe it, couldn’t let himself believe it. Believe that the one thing he’d spend the better half of a decade willing to be true had finally come to pass. That years of skirting around each other, of near kisses and trailing touches, and excruciating, relentless uncertainty could be concluded like this.
He knew he was being spoken to, being directly threatened in fact, and yet, Zedaph could barely bring himself to focus. He knew rationally that Tango would forgive him eventually if he lost the man a life in whatever ‘Life Game’ he was a part of this time, but Zedaph still wasn’t in any rush to go through the process of respawning, especially not in an unfamiliar body.
He was still bleeding.
Bdubs placed a hand on the ground and made as if he were about to stand up. Instantly, Zedaph threw his hands out in protest.
“Oh my word, stop! Just- stop, please. This is ridiculous! I-”
“Bdubs, stop.”
Gem spoke sharply, taking a step forward when the man showed little sign of listening to Zedaph’s words.
“-That’s not Tango.”
He whipped his head around at the words, turning to look at his sister, who was standing a couple of feet away; her expression was steely, but upon facing him, her frown melted into something much softer and ever so slightly all-knowing.
Silence followed her statement, and the man felt the weight of several pairs of eyes boring into the back of his head. Even Bdubs shuffled away slightly, falling backward onto his calves, as he stared at the woman speaking (although he didn’t seem ready to give up just yet).
Gem ignored all of this, bending her knees slightly and offering him a hand.
“Hi, Zed.” She grinned.
Zedaph felt his face break out in a matching smile as he took her hand and allowed himself to be pulled to his feet by his incredibly strong and awesome younger sister, whom he’d never take for granted ever again.
“Hey, Gem.” He replied.
-
“I KNEW IT!”
Everyone spun around to face Impulse, who was vibrating on the spot so intensely that Zedaph found himself worrying for the stability of his joints.
“I knew it! I knew it! I knew it!”
Impulse all but skipped over, bundling Zedaph up into what was quite possibly the biggest bear hug ever, humming happily all the while about how awesome his powers of prediction were.
Zed let out an ‘oomph’ sound as his friend’s broad arms and torso crushed him; causing his stubbled face to flatten against Impulse’s chest. And goodness, wasn’t that a weird feeling? Zed had always decided against facial hair for the obvious reason that it made him look utterly ridiculous, but Tango- well, he managed to look… alright with it.
He supposed.
“I knew you two were bound, I could feel it!” Impulse turned to look over his shoulder.
“-Skizz!” He called. “-Back me up here!”
“Yeah!” The angel winked at the pair from where he was also bouncing on the spot.
“You guys are like- worse than Impulse and I.”
Zedaph scoffed. “Worse? Oh, please. That’s impossible!”
“I dunno, man. You’re pretty bad. Skizz and I have a bet whether you’d secretly started dating and not told any of us.”
The man rolled his eyes. “Oh, piss off, no you have not!”
“We do!” Impulse cried defensively. “-And now, judging from your reaction, I have an entire storage system to organise.”
Skizz chuckled triumphantly. “Sorry, buddy.”
At that, he heard a mutter from behind him.
“Yep, that’s Zed, alright. Have you ever heard Tango talk like that?”
Then he heard Cleo’s voice.
“Oh, yeah, that’s definitely a British man.”
In a manner which probably appeared exceedingly strange coming from Tango’s body, he cautiously peered around Impulse’s wide shoulders, observing the onlookers with poorly disguised curiosity.
Cleo was beaming, Mumbo looked rather flushed, and Joel was whispering into the ear of the pink-haired lady beside him, presumably explaining the situation and who on Earth Zed was.
…Bdubs looked as if he’d just found out that pigs could, in fact, fly and everybody but him had known about it for years.
“Zed?” He whispered, looking comedically horrified.
The man huffed a laugh at his expression and nodded.
The shorter man groaned loudly, pinching the bridge between his eyebrows, standing up and approaching.
“Oh, Jesus, dude, I’m so sorry! My terrifying sword skills must have scared the lights out of you!”
The Scientist brushed him off.
“Don’t worry about it, man. I don’t doubt for a second that Tango deserves it.”
At his words, Bdubs grew suddenly serious, crossing his arms resolutely.
“He does. Your boyfriend is an asshole. I hope he gets leprosy and dies.”
Zed snorted at this, and he heard Gem laugh loudly from behind him.
The implication regarding Tango suddenly made Zedaph painstakingly aware of the fact that he had exactly no idea how the man would feel- or rather, was feeling about their bond revealing itself. He wasn’t instantly filled with terror at the idea, which was… probably a good thing?
They’d had enough near misses as of late that the blonde felt safe in the assumption that everything would work out.
And yet- he couldn’t shake the feeling that there was something he’d forgotten.
It was probably fine.
-
After that, the vibe quickly settled into something far more akin to a ‘garden party with a communal barbeque’ than an active murder game. Zedaph only felt bad momentarily for ruining the mood Grian had so carefully curated before the avian himself had arrived, thumped him on the back and told him that nothing could technically progress until Tango’s return anyway, meaning he had little choice but to call a temporary break to the whole… stabby stabby thing.
Zed… really had no idea what actually went down during these things.
Impulse had produced a picnic blanket, because of course he had, and the ‘lifers plus Zed’ (as they were now calling themselves) were now relaxing on top of the very grass that had nearly witnessed him become a massive pile of mush a few moments previously.
Accepting the piece of bread and honey handed to him with a smile, Zedaph promptly concluded that Tango had clearly been overreacting about the hard conditions of the ‘Life Games.’
He was having a great time.
Zed blinked, and suddenly Joel was in front of him. They’d only met a handful of times during the man’s brief stint on the Hermitcraft server, but from the little time they’d spent together, the Scientist considered him a friend and hoped the man at least tolerated him by now.
“Good on you, mate.” The brit gave him a brisk nod as he patted him on the back and turned to the woman beside him.
“-Just whilst you’re here, I thought you should meet Lizzie. She’s-”
“He’s my husband.” The fairy interrupted joyously, sticking out a dainty hand for Zed to shake.
The scientist grinned, balancing his bread on his leg in order to adequately shake her hand.
“It is so lovely to meet you!” He exclaimed. “-Your outfit is gorgeous!”
Lizzie beamed at him, turning to Grian who was attempting to balance a pile of logs taller than him in his arms.
“G!” She called. “-I like this version of Tango much more; can’t we please keep him?” Lizzie had a tone that Zed imagined it was very difficult to say no to.
Grian, however, just glared at her from around his mountain of lumber.
“Sure.” He deadpanned.
“-If you wanna go ask the watchers.”
Zedaph chuckled and took a bite of his bread, only glancing up at the arrival of his sister.
“Careful, Zed,” Gem warned him. “-I don’t think Tango’s ever smiled this much in such a short space of time. You might end up hurting the muscles in his face.”
“Eh.” He shrugged. “-It’ll do him some good to remember the time he was cool.”
“-Actually…”
He paused for a moment before briskly changing the subject.
“-I believe a rather large thank you is in order.”
Gem smiled. “You weren’t exactly subtle. You and Tango share plenty of mannerisms, but that was easily the most Zed he’s ever sounded.”
He shrugged. “Well, either way, Tango is now firmly in debt to you.”
The woman giggled at this. “Oh, of course. Not you, though.”
Zed frowned. “Me? No, no, I think you’re mistaken. I’m Tango, you saved Tango’s life, so he’s the one who owes you a favour… obviously.”
“Obviously.” Gem nodded.
“-How do you think he’s doing over on Hermitcraft?”
And-
Oh.
Oh, dear.
That was the thing he forgot.
Evidently, his face did little to hide his realisation, because Gem was onto him before he could so much as open his mouth to respond.
“Zed...” She spoke in that all-knowing manner he’d seen displayed on her face earlier.
“-What were you doing before you got here?”
“Um…”
She stared at him expectantly.
Zedaph attempted to pass a hand through his hair in contemplation, but winced slightly as he realised Tango had it tied up in a ponytail, and he pulled at his scalp.
“Umm…”
“Zed!”
“Oh, my Goodness.” He finally broke, trying hard to sound sombre but failing miserably.
“-Oh God, he’s going to kill me.”
Tango
The first thing he noticed upon waking was how cold he was.
He was-
Underwater.
He was underwater.
His limbs flailed and his breathing hitched as the reality of his situation finally dawned on him. Tango gasped in panic and choked as the damned liquid made its way into his lungs.
Well, duh. What did you expect?
Shut up!
He was going to- oh, God.
His code was not meant for exposure to water. Even the briefest drop burned like acid, causing his skin to peel for days afterward, and now? Well, fuck, he was submerged in the evil, horrible substance.
Everything smelled like damp and sadness and death and Jesus Christ why couldn’t he get out?
He tried to kick, tried to push, to force himself out, but there was a solid presence above him, keeping him trapped, keeping him burning, dying.
This was a cruel trap, so vile that it could only have been set up by someone who hadn’t known- someone naïve to his hybrid status. Tango didn’t believe anyone would knowingly cause him such blinding pain, even in a game such as this.
He could imagine it now, the way the flesh would burn from his body, the prolonged and painful respawn, the dreaded recovery period.
Oh, it was going to suck.
He knew he was dying. He knew the game was over.
And yet-
Tango opened his eyes, squinting at his pale, unharmed skin. His chest hurt, sure, but- well, that was probably because of the water he’d inhaled. He- why wasn’t he-
Strong arms wrapped around his torso, and Tango felt his body being lifted abruptly from the water.
Coughing and spluttering, he hit hard, shining marble with a wet squelch.
“What the-” He tried to open his eyes but failed, bringing his hands up to rub at his dripping eyelashes.
“-What the fuck.”
Next to him, he heard muttering voices and looked over to see… Joe and Xisuma? Crouched on the ground, staring at him as if he were about to combust spontaneously at any moment.
“…Zed?” X asked tentatively.
“-You alright, man?”
Tango pushed himself up with his arms, pulling blue plastic goggles off his face as he looked down at the sopping wet knitted jumper clinging to his torso.
At this, he coughed out a laugh, ignoring the question proposed to him.
“Why would he not take this off before getting into a giant tank of water?” He muttered, the reality of his situation dawning hastily upon him.
“Uh-”
Tango looked up at the large container he’d just been rescued from.
“Actually-” He interrupted himself.
“-Better question, why the fuck did he get into that thing to begin with?”
Xisuma turned to Joe with a furrowed brow.
“Why is he talking in third-person?” The admin stage-whispered.
“Maybe he’s attempting to create spiritual distance between himself and his past actions?” Joe whispered back much more loudly.
“-It’s an interesting technique; I saw it used in-”
“Guys.” He deadpanned, his water-fried brain trying to channel as much Tango into his words as possible.
“-It’s not Zed, it’s me.”
There was a pause.
“Well, howdy there, me! Might you possibly care to elaborate?”
Tango sighed fondly, rubbing at the area where the goggles had been pressing into his- Zed’s round face.
“C’mon, Joe, who do you think it is?”
“Oh.” Xisuma said softly as Joe rolled his eyes.
“I know it’s you, Tango. I’m just playing! Who else would freak out like that at a little bit of water?”
He spluttered indignantly. “A little bit of water?! That’s a-” He gestured at the tank.
“-That’s practically an ocean!”
Xisuma chuckled.
“Zed was trying to test how long he could hold his breath.”
“Why the fuck-” Tango paused.
“-Y’know what- I… actually don’t want to know.”
Joe shrugged. “If it helps, I’m not sure he knew either.”
It was so very Zedaph that Tango felt a warmth in his chest at the thought of it, something appreciated when considering just how freezing cold he was.
“So…” Xisuma’s accented voice brought Tango back to the conversation at hand.
“-Seems like we have another pair of soulmates on the server.”
And- crap, Tango hadn’t even-
He’d- well, him having a soulmate had always been a source of surprise for him.
Upon the revelation, he’d been- shocked, almost. Even as a child, he’d been borderline incapable of believing that there was actually someone out there supposedly ‘fated’ for him.
Whatever that actually meant.
But now… he didn’t feel any semblance of that same shock.
Because- well, of course it was Zed.
Of course it was.
“Can I-” His voice was weak.
“-Can I have a drink? Something strong?”
Xisuma smiled wearily. “Only if I can have some, I can only deal with so many magical crises in one week. I’m- sure there’s something lying around here somewhere.”
Offering Tango a hand, he helped pull the man to his feet, ushering him through a door and into what appeared to be a makeshift kitchen/living room setup.
He followed the admin slowly, weighed down by the heaviness of his (still dripping) clothes and hair. Every step he took in Zedaph’s form was strange and uneven; they were largely the same height, so the switch wasn’t disorientating in that aspect. However, the weight of Zed’s curled horns was incredibly off-putting.
It felt as if he had weights hanging off each of his ears, making his head tilt precariously with every change in direction. Zedaph always moved as if he were weightless, bouncing and skipping around as if he were designed specifically to do so, and as such, Tango had never realised how difficult his body was to inhabit. He supposed he owed the man an apology.
“Where even are we?”
“This is Zed’s laboratory.” Joe explained.
“-It’s not meant to be pretty like the one in Season Eight, ’s just supposed to ‘get the job done,’ as he put it.”
Tango shrugged. “Makes sense. I- suppose I haven’t been around enough to notice.”
He groaned as he fell backwards into an armchair, sparing only a moment to thank Joe as she handed him a towel for his hair.
It was pink and fluffy.
Because of course, it was.
-
It didn’t take long for all souls to be returned to the correct bodies after that.
Tango’s decision to cut this particular Life Series short had been an easy one. He’d loved the silly gimmicks and fun mechanics, but he just- hadn’t been able to focus after the switch. It was lame; he knew that. But God, he had just needed some time- time without the watchful observation of his friends, time alone with Zed, as much as he was dreading it.
“It seems a conversation is in order.”
He’d hardly stepped through the door of his starter base before the words were being spoken at him and he was grimacing at Zed’s serious tone.
“Any chance you could reword that to make it sound slightly less terrifying?”
And shit, maybe he should’ve stayed, should’ve pushed this confrontation off, just a bit longer.
Staring at Zedaph now, with his amethyst eyes and halo of blonde hair, made everything he’d been so certain of seem so out of reach all of a sudden.
But Tango wasn’t a complete idiot; he knew he’d made the right decision in leaving; he wasn’t stupid enough to believe that his mind wouldn’t be somewhere else the entire time, distracting him from the whole- murdering thing.
Grian had understood; they all had. Gem had given him an approving nod, which had actually been really reassuring (even if he’d never tell her that). The Gem blessing was incredibly rare and even harder to maintain once achieved.
Tango would honour it privately forever.
Even Bdubs had allowed him safe passage home, although the Blaze borne had heard him muttering vague threats about his ‘redstone building prowess’ and ‘pranking skills’ under his breath as the man had left.
Funnily enough, it hadn’t occurred to him just how much of a big deal this was until he’d locked eyes on Zed, perched precariously (yet endearingly) on top of Tango’s kitchen counter.
Maybe it was his ego speaking, but he hadn’t felt all that nervous until this point. He’d always believed in the idea of soulmates (as much as anyone could believe in such an abstract idea) but that had never stopped him from having relationships in the past. If anything, he and Zed had been heading in this direction for a while now, if slightly impeded by time, age, and their own doubts. And whilst Tango genuinely did believe that even without the switch, something would’ve happened between them eventually, this was- different.
It felt like confirmation, almost, as if the Universe was giving him the go-ahead.
It was a strange feeling, really, because- well, when had either of them ever listened to the Universe? And yet, something about the damn ineffability of it all made his heart soar. It was cheesy, and it was lame, but Tango loved the fact that Zed was his, had been named so from the very beginning.
It was only when he finally spotted the man that he realised there was a chance that the blonde didn’t feel the same way.
Unable to look him entirely in the eye, Tango’s gaze found itself drawn inexplicably to Zedaph’s hands. His eyes followed his fingers, tugging on the ends of his jumper sleeves for… reassurance, maybe?
So much time had passed in silence that Tango had forgotten what his original question had been.
“Any chance you could reword that to make it sound slightly less terrifying?”
And when Zed finally answered, it made Tango’s heart sink.
“I don’t know if I can, Tangs.”
The man only left him to stew in that for a moment before putting him out of his misery. Tango felt his shoulders relax as the blonde broke out into a large smile.
“-I mean, seriously!” The man cried. “-I’m mourning the loss of my nice, peaceful, normal life here, can’t you be a bit more mindful?”
Tango began to laugh, and he took this as a sign that he was allowed to approach the counter which Zed had apparently, unbeknownst to him, claimed as his new throne.
“Are you implying, sir… That I, the most famously calm and collected on the server, would disrupt your peaceful existence?”
Zedaph puffed his chest out. “I am! Everything was perfectly organised and uniform until you came in here with your- cheekbones and messed everything up!”
Tango scoffed. “Me? Mess things up?”
He prodded the sheep hybrid in the chest. ”-How about you dumping me in a vat of ice water?!”
Zed waved him off.
“Exposure therapy! Also, you were fine, you had me to protect you!”
“Um-” Tango said, unconvinced.
“-Not sure about having you to protect me, per se. But I suppose I had your body and your code.”
Zed raised an eyebrow.
“How personal.”
The redhead laughed again. “I think the lines of ‘personal’ have long since been crossed.”
“Maybe.” Zedaph shrugged, lips curling up in a slight smirk.
With his bouncy, curly hair freshly dried and his new, even thicker knitted jumper, the man was beginning to look like something akin to a huge pile of wool taking up space in Tango’s kitchen. It was adorable. And before he knew it, he was speaking.
“Do you-”
Tango, only centimetres away from the other man now, reached up, bringing a palm to Zed’s chest.
“I mean-”
He expected Zed to mock him, but the man didn’t speak. He just kept his sparkling purple eyes focussed on Tango’s face, waiting.
Christ, why was this so hard?
He swallowed, balling up his hand and taking a loose fistful of Zed’s jumper in his palm. This was Zed! This was easy; this was comfortable.
What was he so damn worried about?
Flashes of all the times they’d previously spent like this flew before his eyes, the falling asleep on the same sofa, the closeness, the warmth, the times they’d nearly-
“Can I see?” By the time the words finally came out, they were raspy and desperate. Tango felt shame lick at his insides at the clear display of emotion, but he couldn’t go back now.
“Of course, you can.”
The blonde said the words so softly they might as well have been a whisper.
Hands still shaking, Tango finally allowed himself to take hold of the collar of Zed’s jumper and pull it downward. His fingertips grazed soft flesh and the pointed edges of Zed’s collarbone as he moved the material aside, eyes laser focussed on the mark he knew sat just above the man’s chest.
Tango gasped when he saw it, the previously grey mark that had blossomed bright, ruby red. It was beautiful, like someone had lightly swiped a paintbrush across the man’s skin, a piece of decor rather than a mark or a brand.
“It’s-”
“It’s you.” Zed smiled.
Tango huffed at this.
“I suppose it is.”
The blonde’s eyes lit up at this.
“Ooh!” He cried. “-Can I guess what colour yours is?”
Tango stared at him.
“Come on. Every human and their dog knows it’ll be pink.”
“You don’t know that! I’m renowned for my originality! It could be… uh…”
There was a pause.
“-Green! For all you know! Yeah, hah, take that!”
He raised an eyebrow.
“Took you that long to think of another colour, huh, skippy?”
Zed shoved him backward, but Tango barely moved.
“Go on then.” He said, waving his arms invitingly.
“-Make your guess.”
Zed pretended to think for a long time, face screwed up in contemplation.
“I… hmm… I think it’ll be”
“-Yeah, okay, fine, it’ll be pink.”
“Wow.” Tango snorted.
“-Okay, psychic boy, get ready.”
He pulled his collar to the side, and both men stared at the mark.
“Y’know…” The scientist said after a moment.
“-I reckon there’s a bit of yellow in there.”
Tango observed the dash of rose pink displayed proudly on his chest.
“Mhm. Whatever you say.”
Zedaph grinned at him, hopping down from the countertop and pulling Tango into a hug. It was like being enveloped in a cloud, or perhaps a pile of clean laundry. Seriously, how could one man be so fluffy?
-
Later, when they were warm and cosy underneath a large pile of blankets, Zed looked up at Tango from where he’d been resting his head on his shoulder, (face down to avoid spearing the man with his horns).
“Can I tell you something?”
Tango nodded wordlessly, hand halting its slow carding through Zed’s mess of curls.
Realising Zed couldn’t see this, he made an approving sound.
The sheep hybrid turned his head slowly in order to look Tango in the eye as he spoke.
And then-
“I’m not surprised.” The man whispered.
“…Are you?”
The Blaze borne smiled and pressed a kiss onto the top of the man’s head.
“No.” He replied.
“-No, Not at all.”