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It's been ten years since Katsuki was last in Musutafu. Ten long years of training and serving as a knight of the kingdom out in the surrounding lands. Now that he’s back, walking the streets of Musutafu proper, he finds that nothing has changed.
Well, small things. New shops where he doesn’t remember them. Favorite food booths gone, to his dismay. Faces no longer recognizable when he used to know them all. But overall, Musutafu is familiar, comfortable, he’s home.
Finally.
“Wanna meet at the Sleeping Wren later for drinks?” Hanta asks as they head for the barracks.
Katsuki only shakes his head. “Got plans.”
“Ooooo,” Hanta says with a wink that has Katsuki shoving him into a wall. “A special someone?”
“No.”
Yes.
He’s not sure.
It’s been a long time since he’s seen Shinsou Hitoshi, prince of Musutafu and eldest son of the King. They were close once, as children, running around the castle together and causing trouble. Katsuki’s mother had served in the royal guard and it meant Katsuki spent a lot of days up there and ended up befriending Hitoshi.
Well, really it was the other way around. Hitoshi following him like a stray cat until he became Katsuki’s permanent shadow and it was more natural to see them together than apart.
They spent long hours exploring the castle, finding all the secret passages, using them to pop out and frighten the staff before they’d bolt, leaving behind echoing angry shouts. They’re some of Katsuki’s favorite memories growing up, and he’s looking forward to seeing his childhood friend again.
Not that Hitoshi is expecting to see him tonight. Katsuki hasn’t even told him he’s back, and he’s fully intending to crash the party that’s happening at the castle tonight. Which is giving him mild anxiety. Not because he’s afraid to get caught, he’s pretty confident he can talk his way out of anything, but because he’s nervous to see Hitoshi.
It's been a long time, and they never even wrote to each other. Katsuki too busy changing locations, and (he assumes) Hitoshi too busy doing…prince things?
It also doesn’t help that they parted ways during that awkward teen phase where Katsuki was starting to realize that maybe there were deeper reasons why he was always seeking out the young prince. More than just a ‘friend’ status. Except before anything could come of it, before the bud of realization had even come to full form, Hitoshi’s power had manifested and he’d been swept away into the bowels of the castle for ‘training’.
Not long after, Katsuki’s mother sent him off for the very same reason.
“Earth to Bakugou,” Hanta says, waving a hand in Katsuki’s face, and he smacks it away with an annoyed grunt. “You gonna tell me who it is that’s more important than your best friends?”
“We’re not friends,” Katsuki retorts automatically, even though that statement hasn’t been true for years.
Not since Hanta saved his life and Katsuki later saved his in return. Not since Katsuki, Hanta, Eijirou, and Denki spent long cold nights huddled around fires, damp days slogging through swamps together, keeping each other motivated with the promise of ‘home’, hot food, and warm beds.
But he’s not gonna let them know he likes them, it’d just go straight to their heads.
“Fine, be all cryptic,” Hanta complains, stripping out of his gear and dropping it onto the pile next to Denki where he’s sitting, polishing a breastplate.
“Hey!” Denki shouts in protest, glaring as Katsuki adds his own too. “I’m not doing everyone’s shit!”
“You lost the bet,” Katsuki says, then grabs Eijirou’s armor out of his hands and adds it to the pile because he knows Eijirou is too nice to make Denki clean it. “You pay the price.”
With that Katsuki leaves Denki sulking and at the mercy of Hanta’s teasing and heads for the bathhouses.
–*–
Katsuki may not have thought this plan through far enough.
Getting onto the castle grounds is easy. People know him, via his mother and his own reputation, and he’s technically allowed here. He’s just not invited to the festivities. His family doesn’t have the status or rank to pull that kind of invitation.
This leaves him standing in the gardens outside, pondering the warm glow of the windows, the muffled sound of loud conversation, trying to decide how to get in or how to lure Hitoshi out. He’s bound to be in the middle of everything as the next in line to the throne. His presence will draw eyes and his absence will be noticed.
Katuski contemplates his options, feeling uncomfortably exposed because he isn’t wearing his usual armor and riding gear. Not that having a sword on his hip would give him better options, but he’d feel more confident about it.
Suddenly, the doors to the terrace open, a wave of sound pouring out before it’s cut short. Katsuki is ready to vanish back into the shadows and leave the party attendee to their private moment when he spots purple hair, swept up and back in complicated braids, silver adornments glinting in the low light.
He knows that hair.
Rather than retreat, he slips forward. One eye on the door because surely Hitoshi will be followed, but no one appears. When he steps up onto the terrace, Hitoshi has his back to him, shoulders hunched and hands flat on the stone balustrade as he stares out into the dark.
“Hitoshi?”
The prince spins, the loose black fabric of his outfit twisting in the dark as wide violet eyes lock with Katsuki’s. They’re more iridescent than Katsuki remembers, glowing almost catlike in the dark. Katsuki’s heart kicks hard in his chest at the sight of him. Hitoshi has always been attractive, but Katsuki had forgotten just how much it affected him.
“Katsuki?” Hitoshi says in surprise, but he doesn’t look happy to see him. He looks…terrified. Already backing away, eyes flicking toward the nearby doors like someone might be watching.
“What are you doing here?” Hitoshi asks, then claps a hand over his own mouth, eyes wide with fear.
“I’m back,” Katsuki says, taking a tentative step forward and Hitoshi mirrors him, taking one backward. “I’ve been reassigned to the Musutafu guard, as soon as I got back I came here I…I wanted to see you.”
“You–you shouldn’t be here,” Hitoshi says, shaking his head as he retreats to the door.
“Hitoshi, wait.”
“No. No, go away. Please, I’m so sorry, just go.”
And then Hitoshi is gone, back into the party. Through the glass, Katsuki watches as the crowd parts like water for him, a bubble of space between him and everyone else as he strides across the room. Curious eyes turn toward the terrace windows but Katsuki is already retreating into the shadows.
–*–
Katsuki tries for days to corner Hitoshi, but for a man who everyone knows, who has his own personal escort, and whose whereabouts have to be known by someone, he’s incredibly elusive.
It isn’t helped by the fact that no matter who Katsuki asks, no one is willing to help him track the prince down. Muttering vague excuses about work needing to be done elsewhere before they hurry away. Katsuki has always known Hitoshi was charming and gregarious, drawing people to him like moths to starlight, but he hadn’t expected such loyalty to backfire on him.
Katsuki is used to being in Hitoshi’s inner circle, someone in the know, who pulled his equal share of Hitoshi’s attention. But ten years can change a lot and now he’s standing outside a stone wall that circles Hitoshi, the gates locked.
But Katsuki knows how to lay siege, and he can be a patient man when he needs to be.
It takes him nearly a month between his usual duties and training to get his reassignment to go through. He cashed in every favor he had to get it to happen but he’s feeling pretty damn smug when he heads for the throne hall where the King is holding court with his people. Hitoshi is there too, sitting stiff-spined in his own chair, eyes locked on the tapestries across the room. Katsuki can’t even tell if he’s listening to what each person is saying as they plead their cases.
He slips up beside Hitoshi’s throne, sending away the guard who had been standing there as he settles into a more comfortable stance, one hand resting lightly on the pommel of his sword. It takes Hitoshi a moment to realize he’s there, but when he does, his eyes narrow, flicking briefly to Katsuki before they return forward.
“What are you doing here?” Hitoshi hisses out of the corner of his mouth.
“You wouldn’t talk to me, so I had myself assigned to your personal retinue,” Katsuki mutters back, then tacks on with as much sarcasm as he can muster at a whisper, “my liege.”
Hitoshi’s expression doesn’t change from bored neutral, but Katsuki still knows how to read him, even after all these years, and he spots the twitch of his eye that says he’s managed to irk Hitoshi. Katsuki clasps his hands behind his back and marks that down as a point for him.
Hitoshi ignores him for the rest of the time they’re there, which is hours. People are lined up out the door to have an audience with the King, and he sees every one. Listening patiently to their grievances and requests before making his decision and calling in the next person.
It’s a far cry from what Katsuki is used to. Being a personal guard for royalty involves a lot of standing around, trying to not look bored, while being ready at any moment to potentially leap into action. Out in the wilds, it’s a lot more just actual jumping into action.
Katsuki passes the time when he isn’t assessing each person for threats by examining Hitoshi. From where he’s standing he can’t fully see his face, but he can see the curve of his jaw, how much sharper Hitoshi’s cheekbones are now that he’s outgrown the softness of childhood. He’s tall and lean, honed like a blade. A stark contrast to Katsuki who worked hard to put on muscle. He feels stocky and short next to Hitoshi’s lithe figure.
The bags under Hitoshi’s eyes are new, he looks exhausted. Deep shadows that Katsuki recognizes as many sleepless nights stand out stark against pale skin. Hitoshi is…twitchy too. Fingers pick idly at the polished arm of his seat, before dancing along the heavy brocade that is draped across him, then complete the loop to return to the armrest.
When the King rises and everyone is dismissed, Hitoshi stands and walks out without even looking at Katsuki. Except this time Katsuki follows, and Hitoshi has no choice but to let him.
–*–
They walk all the way back to Hitoshi’s chambers in silence. When they get there, instead of taking up his post outside, Katsuki catches the door with a shoulder and follows Hitoshi in.
Hitoshi’s eyes go wide in surprise before they narrow but he doesn’t say anything, storming over to an armchair and collapsing into it.
“What’s going on with you?!” Katsuki demands, charging over to glare down at Hitoshi, who averts his gaze. “No hi, great to see you? Or how about a holy shit it’s been ten years, how are you?”
Hitoshi’s lips thin and he shifts uncomfortably but he still won’t. Look. At. Katsuki.
Katsuki is this close to reaching out and making him, but laying an uninvited hand on royalty is punishable by death and he’s not in the mood to gamble.
“Are you seriously not going to say anything?” Katsuki asks. When Hitoshi remains silent Katsuki scoffs. “You’re such a child, nothing has changed.”
He leaves Hitoshi to his brooding and only shuts the door a little too hard when he returns to the hall.
–*–
One thing that being Hitoshi’s personal guard has taught Katsuki is that Hitoshi wasn’t dodging him all those days. Hitoshi just doesn’t go anywhere. He spends most of his days working and eating in his chambers, and if he does leave, it’s only to go to the library.
Back and forth, back and forth, down the same hallways over and over for days. Katsuki thought at first that it was just a ploy by Hitoshi to annoy him, but the longer it goes on the more he realizes that’s not the case.
Hitoshi still won’t speak to him, but it’s clear from how the rest of the staff are unphased by his behavior that this is not unusual.
Katsuki doesn’t understand. Where is the vibrant boy he used to play with? The one who was up to his nose in trouble whether or not Katsuki was there, but could always charm his way out with the perfectly selected words. The boy who taught Katsuki how to swim, and Katsuki taught how to throw a proper punch (earning himself a black eye in the process).
Now Hitoshi broods. His rooms curtained and dark, the space around him always silent. Even the staff don’t speak to him. Hitoshi exists in a world of sober silence and it’s driving Katsuki insane.
Katsuki tries to be patient. He really does. This is a version of Hitoshi he doesn’t know, and he shouldn’t have expected to come back to the same person he left behind a decade ago. But every instinct in him screams that Hitoshi isn’t just different, that something is wrong. This is not the person Katsuki believed he would grow into, wouldn’t have even made it into his top ten list, and he can’t let go of the idea that something happened and he wasn’t here to stop it.
“You know, I’m not just going to give up and transfer somewhere else,” Katsuki comments from his post by the door while he watches Hitoshi browse the nearby shelves in the library. When Hitoshi’s nose wrinkles he adds: “and if you request it, I’ll just swap with people until I’m back here again.”
Hitoshi gives him a flat look then pulls a book off the shelf and turns his back to Katsuki,
“You think I can’t? You might be a prince, but I have my own pull here. I could do it.”
Hitoshi’s shoulders hunch, which means he knows Katsuki is right, and Katsuki smirks. He’s getting pretty good at this one-way conversation thing. Hitoshi might not speak, but he’s always been garbage at hiding his thoughts and expressions, at least from Katsuki. That, at least, hasn’t seemed to change over time.
“Glad we’re in agreement.”
–*–
The silent treatment continues.
For a month.
Hitoshi seems resigned to Katsuki’s continued presence, even accepting of it, and they slide into an easy routine. Though Hitoshi never says a word to him, the glares decrease before they vanish all together, the tension in his shoulders begins to ease, and the eye rolls are at least paired with the smallest of amused twitches of Hitoshi’s lips.
Hitoshi is cracking, and Katsuki can see the glimmers of his old friend shining through the gaps.
The changes highlight something else though: the glimpses of Hitoshi’s true self only happen when they are alone.
If someone walks in, or Katsuki returns from one of his few, but regular, evenings off, Hitoshi’s walls are back up, as insurmountably tall as if they had never begun to crumble.
And Katsuki has begun to hear whispers around the castle.
Whispers that include Hitoshi’s name paired with words like ‘evil’, ‘demon spawn’, ‘trickster’.
His friendship with the prince is too well known for Katsuki to get more than the snippets he hears in passing. Everyone clams up the moment he’s spotted and even his closest friends snap their mouths shut, eyes pleading with him not to push it when he tries.
But Katsuki knows which gossip hound to get trashed if he wants answers.
“Y’know, I was beginning to think you didn’ like me,” Denki says, eyes bright and shiny from intoxication as he accepts yet another beer from Katsuki. “Even after I saved your life and we bonded an’ everything.”
“You tripped and fell and got lucky,” Katsuki points out.
Denki rolls his eyes and drains half the pint in one go, which is impressive considering how many he’s had and how tiny he is. Katsuki figures he’s dancing the line between blabbermouth Denki and unconscious Denki, so he takes a sip of his own drink, sitting back in his seat.
“Okay, fine, you caught me,” Katsuki says, putting on an air of defeat as Denki blinks at him.
“I did?”
“You were right,” Katsuk continues, and Denki looks suspicious but he’s nodding along like he wants to believe him.
“I was? I mean, obviously.” Denki stares at his own drink for a moment before he squints at Katsuki. “About what?”
“Gossip might be…a little interesting. I guess.”
Denki’s eyes go wide as saucers, a delighted grin stretching across his face. “I knew it. I knew you couldn’t resist once we were in the thick of it.” He smacks his mug down on the table so hard that the beer sloshes over the rim as he leans into Katsuki’s face. “Tell me your gossip, you glorious handsome royal bodyguard.”
“That’s the problem,” Katsuki sighs, looking disappointed and surreptitiously nudging Denki’s drink toward him until Denki notices and scoops it back up, finishing it. Katsuki raises his hand for another. “They keep me so busy running around that I haven’t had any time to get any gossip.” He throws his hands in the air in frustration. “I’m completely out of the loop.”
Denki takes the bait like he was born to swallow it.
“Well thank god you have an incredibly well-informed best friend, right?”
“The best,” Katsuki says through gritted teeth but it works. Denki is an information faucet that turns into a firehose, and Katsuki gets every rumor he wanted, and a lot he didn’t over the next hour.
Carrying Denki back to the barracks to sleep it off is just the price he had to pay for it.
And now he understands what the hell is going on with Hitoshi.
–*–
Katsuki isn’t due back at the castle until dawn but what Denki told him festers in his brain and there’s no way he’s getting any sleep tonight. Instead, he heads back through the streets and is waved past the gates by the guards on duty. Once he’s in the castle proper he takes a hard left away from the main hall, stopping in front of a tall portrait of a king who ruled so long ago that even the name etched on the placard is lost to time.
It’s one of the first secret passages that he and Hitoshi found. First and most frequently used, because if you know the right turns, it gets you all the way to Hitoshi’s chambers unseen.
“See Kats! Now you can visit any time and no one will even know! We can stay up all night and you can tell me all the stories you hear from the barracks and I’ll tell you everything from the stupid parties!”
Looking back, Katsuki’s more than sure his mother knew where he snuck off to almost every night, but she was close with the late Queen and somehow the passage never got closed, and there was always an extra breakfast on Hitoshi’s tray the next morning.
He runs fingers lightly down the edge of the frame until they catch on the latch and, with one final glance to check that the side hall is empty, he lets the door swing open and disappears into the dark of the tunnel.
–*–
It’s funny how memory works. It’s been years since Katsuki walked these musty passages, but his footsteps are sure, his turns confident. The echoes of his childhood bouncing around him and he can almost hear the barely suppressed giggles of a younger version of himself as he and Hitoshi sprinted through these very stone corridors so long ago.
Six passages and four turns later he’s flicking the latch that leads to Hitoshi’s room and slipping inside, knowing from experience that Hitoshi is alone and most likely awake even at this late hour. The moment his foot touches the carpet there’s a blade at his throat.
“Shit.”
Instinct takes over before he can stop it and he grabs the wrist holding the blade, twisting away as the knife clatters to the floor. The scuffle only lasts seconds, Katsuki moments from pinning his attacker to the wall when a single word rings out in the room.
“Stop.”
Every muscle in Katsuki’s body locks up instantaneously, the recognizable sparks of magic washing across his skin. It’s gone almost as quickly as it appeared and then Hitoshi is stumbling back, looking horrified.
“Katsuki, I’m so sorry, shit, sorry, sorry.”
Hitoshi flees to the other side of the room as Katsuki crouches to pick up the knife. He spins it between his fingers before he sets it on a nearby table. “You’ve gotten better with the blade, you nearly had me.”
Hitoshi lets out an audible snort but doesn’t say anything, arms crossed tight across his chest as he stares out the windows into darkness.
“Is that why you won’t speak to me?” Katsuki asks, wandering slowly across the room toward Hitoshi.
Hitoshi curls in on himself and he won’t turn around, though Katsuki catches luminescent lavender eyes tracking him in the reflection of the glass.
“It took me a while to figure it out,” he continues. “No one here will talk about it, and when I finally found someone who would, it’s all fantastical rumors and fear-mongering.”
“Is it?” Hitoshi hisses, a decade of bitterness laced into those two words.
By this point Katsuki has reached Hitoshi, hovering behind him, though he doesn’t touch him. “Christ, you’ve always been so fucking dramatic.”
“You don’t know me,” Hitoshi hisses, spinning to shove Katsuki away, but he doesn’t budge, bracing himself against the attack. “Not anymore.”
“I want to,” Katsuki fires back, blocking Hitoshi’s path each time he tries to get past him. “Why are you so afraid of that?”
“I’m not the one who should be afraid,” Hitoshi snaps.
Katsuki can’t help it. He laughs. Laughs so hard that he tears up. When he catches Hitoshi’s startled expression it just makes him laugh harder. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I–am I supposed to be afraid of you?!”
Hitoshi bristles, looking offended. “I–”
“You–” Katsuki wheezes, waving a hand in the air. “Afraid of you, the kid who broke his arm trying to rescue a cat from a tree, only to have that cat use you as a landing pad?” Hitoshi scowls but Katsuki isn’t done. “I’m supposed to be scared of the boy who thought they kept sharks in the moat?”
“Neito said–”
“Oh no, you do not get to blame that one on someone else,” Katsuki says with a chuckle and Hitoshi frowns even harder, glaring at the carpet.
Silence settles into the room as the mood shifts back toward awkward and Katsuki sighs.
“Hitoshi.”
Silence.
“Hitoshi, look at me.”
Hitoshi doesn’t budge so Katsuki steps in closer, crowding him against the wall until Hitoshi has nowhere to run, nowhere to look but at Katsuki.
“What?!” Hitoshi snaps. “What do you want?!”
“I want my friend back.”
“I don’t have friends anymore,” Hitoshi says and Katsuki’s heart breaks at the expression on his face.
“That can’t be true,” Katsuki says, one hand coming up to rest on Hitoshi’s arm. Hitoshi flinches at the contact but doesn’t shake him off. “You always had friends. More than just me.”
“I looked for you,” Hitoshi mumbles, staring at Katsuki’s hand on his arm. “When I was finally able to get away long enough, I looked for you and you were gone.”
“I’m sorry,” Katsuki says, and he means it. Sorry he had to leave, sorry they never got to say goodbye, sorry he didn’t at least try to stay in touch. “I didn’t mean to disappear, but when you didn’t come back, I figured you’d…found something more important.”
He assumed Hitoshi had found a purpose. Hitoshi always dreamed big, wanted more, and when Katsuki heard that Hitoshi had manifested powers, that he could do magic? Well, who needs some rough-and-tumble friend who can’t even come to the same parties as you? Katsuki had gone to his mother and demanded his own purpose in life, something he could do if he couldn’t be by Hitoshi’s side.
“What could be more important than you?” Hitoshi asks and then he freezes, sucking in a startled breath like he didn’t mean to say that out loud.
“What?” Katsuki whispers, hope gently unfurling like a flower in his chest.
“Forget it,” Hitoshi mutters, trying to shake Katsuki off but he won’t let go. “It doesn’t matter, it’s too late.”
“Why?” Katsuki demands. “Why would it be too late, Hitoshi?”
“Because who would love me now?” Hitoshi snaps and then goes limp in Katsuki’s grip, the energy draining out of him. “When my power first manifested I was so excited, I couldn’t wait to show you, and then…then everything went so wrong. Everyone is so afraid of me. Terrified that if they even say one word to me that I’ll use it on them, control them, make them do things they don’t want to.” Hitoshi buries his face in his hands. “I wish it never happened. I hate it.”
Katsuki can’t stand to see him like this, can’t stand to hear those words leave Hitoshi’s mouth. He peels Hitoshi’s hands from his face, grabbing his chin to force their eyes to meet.
“That’s the stupidest fucking thing I’ve ever heard you say, and I’ve heard a lot.”
“Wha–”
He doesn’t let Hitoshi argue with him, slipping his hand to the back of Hitoshi’s neck and dragging him in until their lips crash together. Hitoshi doesn’t respond at first, frozen against Katsuki, but when Katsuki drags his tongue across Hitoshi’s lip, fingers threading into purple hair and tugging, Hitoshi whimpers and then he’s kissing back.
Katsuki had spent a thousand nights trying to imagine what it would be like to kiss his best friend, but none of it measures up to the real thing. To having Hitoshi here in his arms, lips warm and soft against his own. The kiss is slow and tentative at first. A slow churning magma builds and builds until finally, it overflows.
Hitoshi shoves Katsuki backward, tugging desperately at his clothes and herding him across the room until Katsuki’s knees hit the bed. Katsuki spins them, shoving Hitoshi until he sits down on the bed and Katsuki slips between his thighs, cupping Hitoshi’s face in his hands.
“I’ll never be afraid of you,” Katsuki promises, and they’re close enough that he can feel the shuddering breath that leaves Hitoshi at those words.
“Katsuki…”
“Never,” he repeats, kissing Hitoshi hard like he can force the words into his body and make him believe them. A broken sob leaves Hitoshi’s throat and Katsuki swallows it, taking every drop of Hitoshi’s pain as it leaves his body. Strips Hitoshi bare and shoves him back on the bed to crawl over him, pressing tender kisses to every inch of skin.
When he reaches Hitoshi’s face he kisses away the tears that spill from Hitoshi’s eyes. Presses his lips to the curve of Hitoshi’s jaw, the line of his neck, confesses to him as he buries his face in Hitoshi’s chest, listening to the rapid-fire beat of Hitoshi’s heart against his cheek.
“I love your dumb ass too much to ever be afraid of you.” He wraps arms around Hitoshi’s narrow waist, crushing them together as Hitoshi throws his arms around Katsuki’s shoulders, face pressed to his hair. “I should never have left, I’m so sorry, it hurt so much to leave you, but I thought–I didn’t realize–I–”
Hitoshi shushes him, dragging him back up until they’re kissing again, hands sliding across bare skin and Katsuki finds he doesn’t need Hitoshi to say anything back. He feels the acceptance in Hitoshi’s touch, the love that has stayed true in both their hearts, spilling over as they tangle together.
When Katsuki finally sinks into Hitoshi it feels like relief. Like nights together lost and then reclaimed, and Katsuki knows there will never be anyone else for him again. Damn the consequences. He pours every ounce of himself into it and Hitoshi opens in return and something settles in Katsuki’s heart, a gap filled that he never realized was empty until it was complete once again.
Time slows down around them, the world narrows until it’s just the two of them in this bed, communicating in touches and kisses. In breathy gasps and murmured nonsense that still means everything, and when Katsuki comes, Hitoshi is tumbling over the edge with him, sweaty and shaky as they cling to each other and ride it out.
When Katsuki is finally able to catch his breath he slides sideways off Hitoshi, but drags him back in against him, unwilling to let there be any space between them after so long. Hitoshi hums, letting himself be crushed against Katsuki as he props his head on Katsuki’s shoulder, fingers idly tracing the scars scattered across Katsuki’s chest.
“I think you have a lot of stories to catch me up on,” Hitoshi murmurs, flattening his hand on a scar that’s so large that even his broad hand and long fingers can’t cover it. Katsuki slides a hand down Hitoshi’s arm until he can tangle their fingers together on his stomach.
“Don’t worry, we have plenty of nights for me to tell them to you.”