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Steel to My Trembling Lips

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There is no terror in the bang, only in the anticipation of it.

Walking down an old alleyway in a corner of the worst parts of the city, when it was late at night, was not one of Noctis' brightest ideas. In fact, if you picked up any nearby murder mystery or turned on the next horror movie, that would be the opening scene. The next scene would be death; violent, slow death that would paint the news stories like Noctis' blood was about to paint the brick walls of the damned alleyway. It wasn't even his fault, who was the jackass who invented such a deathtrap in the first place?

It'd been past midnight, and he'd taken a turn down an alley that he knew would be a shortcut. He knew the city like the back of his hand, it was going to be his city, after all. The King was growing older, and Noctis, freshly eighteen, was getting accosted from all sides by lessons and demands and tabloids about his life from people who apparently knew him better than he knew himself. Well, some of them, others were writing about a person Noctis couldn't recognize at all, though the articles were written beside his unwilling snapshot. The paparazzi didn't even know how to properly hold a camera. They were the reason Noctis was out so late, dressed in all dark clothes and a hoodie to disguise himself. Was it that bad to want a little alone time? All he'd done was trick his guards and lie to his instructors, a little white lie! It was only going to be a few hours.

That was what Noctis had thought, right up until he found himself flat on the ground with a throbbing headache.


"I told you it'd be easy. Kid practically walked into my hands!"

"You're gettin' cocky, Prom. He's just an over-sheltered brat, 'course he wouldn't hear you."

"Hey, hey! If it was so easy, why didn't you go and get 'im, big guy? You afraid I'm getting better than you?"

"Why, you little—"

"Both of you, do shut up. Our guest is coming to."

Noctis groaned, his head feeling much like what he suspected concrete felt like when it was getting power-drilled. Great, now his headaches were getting so bad he was starting to hallucinate. The voices were distant, as if he were trying to listen through water, and distinctly male, and what they were going on about, Noctis hadn't the faintest idea. Figuring it out was much like trying to lie still and finish a dream after you've woken up, but the talking had stopped as soon as he'd groaned and snapped out of his impromptu nap. When had he even gotten back to his apartment? The last thing he remembered was heading home on that shortcut, Noctis couldn't recall even walking up his stairs. Maybe he should ask his imaginary voices about—

A warm hand touched his face suddenly, and it was most definitely not a hallucination. Not unless Noctis had taken some seriously hardcore shit last night.

Starting, reluctant eyes popped open, and Noctis sucked in a panicked breath. Never in his life had he snapped awake so fast. Reflexive muscle motion kicked in, and he was struggling to get up, but the prince found himself unable to pull his arms from behind his back. Surrounding him were the unfamiliar, stone-grey walls of a small room, and something else a little more eye-catching.

The strange face in front of Noctis broke into a catty smile, and he stopped his hand where he'd run the backs of his calloused knuckles against Noctis' cheek. "Well, well! I been wondering when you'd finally wake up!" The blonde rocked back on his knees, clicking his tongue as if he were disappointed with a dog. "It's rude to keep people waiting, you know? Royalty should have better manners!"

Stunned into silence, Noctis' mind reeled in a bid to process the lecture made by a…a what? An enemy? A smalltime criminal trying to get rich? Noctis had no grasp of the danger he was in, and that should've been enough incentive to keep his mouth shut, wouldn't one think?

Lip curling into a weak smirk, Noctis rolled his stiff shoulders. "Guess you should've hit me a little lighter," he said, his voice dry enough to crack a riverbed. From behind the blond, whom Noctis decided couldn't have been any older than twenty, came a snort.

"Got a mouth on 'im, huh? No worries, ain't nothing he can't be broken out of," the deep voice spoke, a winter's thunder storm, rumbling in the room and sending a chill down Noctis' spine. He peered over the crouching blond's shoulder, tilting his head back, back, until he could finally meet the gaze of the towering behemoth of a man. A couple of scars marred this man's face, his eyes burning with an amber fire that erased any doubts that he didn't mean what he said. Noctis' father was going to be pretty upset if Noctis ended up back in that damn wheelchair. Before he could dig that grave, though, another voice spoke. Gods be damned, how many were in on it?

"Broken merchandise fetches a lesser price," the cool tone remarked. Noctis couldn't find the owner of this one, but he painted his own picture of a no nonsense, uptight businessman. Probably wore glasses. "I plan to get my full salary, so do keep your hands to yourself. If he causes problems, we'll simply lock him in."

The whole time the other men were talking, Noctis noticed the blond didn't take his eyes off him. "Pretty thing, don't'cha guys think? I thought the mags touched you up!" He reached up again, this time with his fingers beneath Noctis' chin, forcing him to tilt his head.

Noctis blinked up into the startling blue eyes above him. "I'm flattered. Perhaps after this, you could buy me dinner?" he deadpanned, watching as his abductor's grin widened.

"I think you should be buyin' me dinner, pretty boy. You know how much you're worth?"

Well…a lot, if Noctis had to guess, though he didn't much research his worth daily.

"Must you act so inappropriately?" That was the bossy guy again, but this time, his intervention didn't stop Noctis from picking up the shovel.

"A lot more than you are, right?" Noctis asked, smiling innocently as the smirk dropped from the blond boy's face. "I mean, if one of me is going to make all of you rich. You could be arrested and shot, and all they'd put is "Another street rat tries to make it big!" in the news."

Noctis leaned back against the wall, his head lifted with triumph. He knew how to rile someone up, though normally he'd never think such things. A cloud darkened the abductor's face, a stark difference between when he was smiling. If Noctis could have backed up any farther, he might should've. A piercing click echoed through the room, and a sliver of motion to his left drew Noctis' attention. The slim barrel of the gun waved in Noct's peripheral vision, the weapon sitting comfortably in the blond's hand in spite of the weight of the threat. "You might wanna be nice to this street rat, brat," he grinned.

Noctis, his mouth dry, slid his gaze from the gun towards his kidnapper's face. "Good thing you aren't in charge of negotiations, huh? You'd fuck it up big time, I bet that's why you're so desperate—"

Noct's shovel hit rock, six feet deep.

A hand buried in his hair, yanking on dark strands hard enough to cause a wince to crease Noctis' features. The blond leaned in close, his teeth grit beside Noctis' ear. "Big words, pretty boy. Think a bullet between your teeth might shut you up?" he hissed, the barrel of the gun digging into the underside of Noctis' jaw, cold and laughing.

"You won't get a cent," Noctis hissed back. "Go ahead." He felt the blond's lips pull into a smirk against his ear, and for a moment, Noctis could just picture his father resuscitating his shot corpse only to kill him again for being so Astrals-damned foolish. From somewhere in the haze of the rest of the world, Noctis thought he heard a muttered "Oh, dear."

"Prompto, if you're done flirting with our fucking prisoner, get a move on." Noctis glanced at the towering man as he pushed off the wall, heading for the cracked door.

One, two, three seconds of silence before the blonde—Prompto—cocked his head, looking at Noctis as he answered. "Nah, think I'll keep an eye on our sweet captive. Help Ig with the negotiating, yeah?"

The other man rolled his eyes before slamming the door, casting the room into silence and shadow aside from the dim lamplight. Noctis set his jaw so that it wouldn't open again, and perhaps so it wouldn't tremble.

"Let's see," Prompto hummed, shifting himself forward and swinging a knee over Noctis' legs so that he was straddling the tied-up boy. Noctis swallowed, his cheeks felt warm in the coolness of the room. Yeah, that was about why.

The gun slipped easily down Noctis' cheek and travelled lower along his throat, cool and sleek. It was a promise, a threat, not inherently a danger. The finger on the trigger was the danger, in the hands of the careless. Noctis didn't think his new friend was in the mood to be careful. He tried to turn his face away, but the gun pressed against his cheek again and turned him back, holding him place as Prompto leaned in. Where the barrel of the gun was ice cold, Prompto's tongue was hot against Noctis' lips. Panic felt hot as it dripped into Noctis' stomach.

"Not so keen on opening those lips now, are we?" Prompto murmured against his prisoner's mouth, glancing up into Noctis' eyes. He was so close, close enough to feel Noctis' screaming heartbeat. "C'mon pretty boy, entertain me a little. I want to see your mouth do something other than spout spoiled bullshit."

Spitefully, Noctis opened his lips to bare his teeth, clenched tightly together in a snarl. His chest rose and fell quickly, desperate to hold onto breath, but he was much more desperate to not let Prompto see it. To not let him win. As if pride held any stakes here, but it felt important to fight back. Where was the fun in handing a victory out?

The blond chuckled, shutting his eyes for a moment. Noctis thought he might've annoyed the bastard enough to get him to leave, but he had a thing or two to learn. First, don't play games with your enemy. Second, Prompto was a cheater.

A hand slid abruptly between Noctis' thighs, cupping him through his jeans and squeezing. The suddenness sent a jolt through Noctis' nervous system, perhaps for the wrong reasons. A gasp spilled out of open lips, a tiny lapse in control, but Prompto took the inch and ran a mile. The metal of the gun was bitter against Noctis' tongue as Prompto forced it into his open mouth. The barrel scraped against his teeth uncomfortably, forcing Noctis to open his mouth wider. It pinned his tongue down, the cold seeping into him, but where his blood should have been freezing, Noctis burned.

He groaned around the intrusion in protest, his lips wrapped around the barrel as Prompto slid it out some, the silver gleaming wetly, and slowly pressed it back into the inviting warmth of Noctis' mouth. The blond's eyes were pinned to the sight, drinking in the prince of Lucis with his lips wrapped around a gun. It was almost obscene, his face flushed pink and those baby blues half-shut and looking up at Prompto. It should have been contempt there, and that's what Noctis would have said, but oh, what a little liar the prince was. "Much better," Prompto cooed, a false softness as he gently pulled the gun back again. At least the prince had learned to keep his fucking teeth out of the way. Without warning, Prompto shoved the gun into Noctis' mouth, forgoing the earlier laze.

Noctis screwed his eyes shut, tears welling in them as he gagged on the barrel, but Prompto didn't pull it back. He held it still until Noctis regained control over his gag reflex, only then did he pull back again. Now that he knew Noctis could take it deeper, Prompto didn't bother holding back. The barrel of the weapon was unrelenting as it pressed into Noctis' mouth, to the back of his throat, the iron taste and abuse of his gag reflex both nearly making him sick. But, the whole time, Noctis never pulled away. Not that he could have, so did it matter? Tear tracks glistened on Noctis' reddened cheeks as he coughed, heaving for breath once the gun finally slipped from his mouth, a string of spit connecting them for a moment. Breathless and petty, Noctis licked his swollen lips. "Kinky."

Prompto winked. "I think someone likes it," he whispered, as if divulging a secret. He lowered the gun between Noctis' thighs, pressing the barrel against the bulge there. The dark-haired boy sucked in a breath through his teeth, both in arousal and in shame at getting caught. He had hoped Prompto wouldn't look down when he was so focused on what he was doing to Noctis' mouth. Why something so…so heinous had turned him on, Noctis didn't understand. He didn't have to, not in this room, he didn't have to worry about putting on a front or playing a role. Being threatened with a weapon did tend to bare a person down to his core. His hips rolled forward, rubbing himself against the gun. It was meek friction, and it only succeeded in frustrating Noctis further.

"Ah, ah, ah. What would the public think of their prince, tied up and trying to fuck my gun?" Prompto tisked. His breath fanned across Noctis' mouth as he came close, lips brushing together in a not-quite-kiss that Noctis certainly didn't-quite-want. When Prompto left, Noctis had to tell himself not to chase. "Who would I be to deny royalty? After all, it is a street rat's place to serve."

Something cold dropped into Noctis' stomach, and it wasn't just the sudden shift in gravity when Prompto shoved him flat onto his back. A startled sound began, but it never finished before Prompto's mouth, hot and forceful, stole a kiss from Noctis' lips. It was hungry, drawing a starving being from within Noctis that he'd never met. Prompto's tongue was in his mouth before Noctis even remembered letting him, dragging a moan out of Noctis' reluctant lungs. Hands were slipping down his waist then, tugging at the zipper on his jeans and yanking the denim down. Noctis shuffled his legs, kicking the article off, before he thought to consider that he might shouldn't be actively trying to sleep with his abductor. That wasn't going to look good on the report. Maybe he could add a little extra to the ransom for Prompto to keep his mouth shut…

Prompto bit at the prince's bottom lip, sucking it into his mouth before he pulled back. "Spread your legs, brat," he ordered, and damned if Noctis didn't. His cock was hard, standing at attention against his abdomen, but Prompto ignored it, garnering a frustrated whine from Noctis. He was used to getting what he wanted, but having that ignored and being given whatever the other person wanted, well. This room was just bursting full of secrets, tonight. The walls had better be strong.

To quiet him, Prompto pressed three of his fingers into Noctis' mouth. "Sorry prince, you don't get to call the shots this time," Prompto intoned, his husky voice chasing a shiver down Noctis' back. Prompto pushed his fingers in deep, threatening to gag Noctis again if not for the prince's pride. If he could take a gun, he would take this. His pink tongue curled around Prompto's slim fingers, daring to tease. With a growl, Prompto drew his hand back and replaced it with his mouth, more teeth and tongue than any actual kiss. It served as a distraction for Prompto to drag Noctis closer with his free hand, spreading Noctis' thighs around his hips as he settled between those long legs. Noctis shouldn't get away with wearing those loose jeans all the time. Two of Prompto's slick fingers teased against Noctis' entrance, and Noctis thought he'd have a moment to prepare himself. Instead, Prompto sunk his digits inside him, not allowing Noctis a second to adjust.

Mouth open wide, Noctis arched his back before he uttered a sharp curse. He tipped his head back when Prompto started to move his fingers, allowing the blond to drop his head to kiss at Noct's throat. His lips pressed against the fluttering point of Noctis' pulse, and he opened his mouth to suck at the skin, listening to the high whine Noctis emitted. That was going to leave a mark, a hickey high on his throat. He was tight around Prompto's fingers, but he accepted the third entry without a problem. "You've been aching for this, haven't you, prince?" Prompto murmured, laving his tongue up Noctis' throat to nip at his ear. Noctis flinched with a throaty groan, pushing his hips downward with an eagerness no captive ought to have. "You've wanted someone to take you like this, treat you how you deserve. Must be so lonely, all locked up with nothing but old fucks."

Noctis whined, whether in want or to deny Prompto's words was objective. The gunner was right—Noctis couldn't date, he couldn't sneak out or even talk to someone without his guards knowing. So what if he liked how Prompto felt, the gunner's body warm and strong against his own, lips and teeth sucking and biting marks onto his skin? So what if he rocked his hips down, trying to keep Prompto to touch that one spot that made his cock twitch every time? No one was else was gonna know. Ransom paid, Noctis would go home, he'd never see the blond again.

Noctis huffed out in frustration when Prompto withdrew his fingers. "Relax, prince. I've got something to fill this slutty hole," Prompto promised. Noctis was so lost in his own head and lust, he didn't process it until he felt the frigid reminder. The barrel of the gun grazed his inner thigh and Noctis' eyes flew wide, stiffening up when the barrel pressed at an…intimate place. Noctis had never used a gun, but he was pretty sure they were intended for other things. "Wait, wait—" Noctis struggled to get his voice out, but his hoarse protests were ignored.

Prompto was careful as he pressed the gun in, coaxing Noctis to accept the barrel of the pistol. It was a slow stretch, too hard and too cold and too much—and somehow, it went straight to Noctis' cock. The prince was arched taut, his voice caught after cutting off a whimper. It was risky, it was a weapon, meant for chaos and harm and death, and the taboo of it was exactly what was making Noctis leak onto his stomach. All his life he'd been protected, over-sheltered, held back. Now, with his heart in his throat and so jumped on adrenaline that every touch felt like lightning, Noctis couldn't believe anything would ever be so good again. His eyelids fluttered when Prompto stopped, the barrel of the weapon (again, weapon, something that Prompto could kill him with at any fucking second) resting inside Noct's body. The sweltering heat inside him had warmed the metal to something tolerable, and with it opening him so wide, Noctis could only focus on trying to catch his breath.

Noct's hands clenched beneath him, pins and needles shooting up his arms as he lowered himself back down to the floor. His thighs were trembling, and his breathing stuttered, but his cock was aching, the head sticky with beads of pre-cum. Prompto stared, mesmerized, at the pretty boy splayed out before him. Noctis' shirt had gotten pushed up somewhere, only enough to expose the slim planes of his stomach. His soft thighs pressed against Prompto's hips, whole body shaking with exertion and lust. It should be a crime to hide those legs, but, ah, Prompto doubted King Regis would be passing that law anytime soon.

Running his hand up Noct's side, Prompto cooed out praise as he tested the water by shallowly thrusting the gun. Noctis started, a choked moan stumbling out of his mouth. He tried to tug Prompto closer with his thighs, but the blond only smirked at the attempt. "Cute, prince," Prompto spoke in a husky voice, glancing between Noctis' legs to watch the gun's barrel disappear into that pink entrance, stretched around the silver rim. Noctis had his face turned to the side, and when he cracked an eye to glance up at Prompto, his face grew pinker and he shut it again right after. Prompto had the feeling if Noctis had his arms free, he'd be covering his face.

He flinched each time Prompto thrust the gun into him, and he no longer kept his mouth shut. Pink, bitten lips stayed open, a salacious invitation as Noctis heaved for breath. Prompto couldn't use the gun too hard or fast, lest he risk actually damaging Noctis, but the way the prince jumped and moaned told him that it was plenty good enough. It was a stunning picture, if a little macabre, the idea of bringing such danger into what was meant to be intimate and vulnerable. If you asked Prompto, that made Noctis all the more-so. Prompto glanced at the poor thing's cock, where it was dripping and pink from lack of attention. Desperation truly suited Noctis, but he'd been good.

Reaching down to grab Noctis' cock, Prompto took it in hand and gave it a little squeeze, prompting Noct to bounce his hips up, that made the gun slip a little deeper inside him. "Ah!" Noctis's mouth opened into an "o", a violent tremor shaking through him as the blond's hand languidly stroked. Prompto glanced down with a cocked brow as Noctis spilled over his fingers and onto his own lower stomach. It splattered against pale skin, and the prince could only whine through it. Noctis trembled in the aftermath, wincing as he clenched down around the barrel of the gun still resting inside him. Every nerve was ablaze, and he flinched when Prompto laid a hand on his thigh. He whimpered when the blond withdrew the gun, unable to even open his eyes for a second, but without the metal prying him open Noctis finally let himself relax.

"That fast?" Prompto teased, coaxing a seethed insult from Noctis, who slurred a bit. "Damn shame they hide you away. You're made to be a slut," Prompto smacked his hand against Noctis' ass. Shifting to shove his knee into Prompto's side, Noctis was too boneless after his orgasm, and Prompto too fast. He was clearly no smalltime criminal, and that rang like an alarm in the back of Noctis' head, muffled by, well, his cock. But it was there. Prompto was only using him for money, and he could turn on Noctis at any second. But still, even after that, he'd…

"All right, little prince. I've spoiled you, you aren't gonna be greedy now, are ya?" Prompto grinned down at Noctis, teeth bared like a wolf. Prompto sat up on his knees and shifted Noctis, his fingertips digging into Noct's thighs (another mark) as he pushed the prince's legs up, pressing them together. Confused, Noctis flushed, watching as Prompto spat into his palm and took his cock in his hand, groaning in relief as he gave himself a few strokes.

Leaning forward, Prompto held Noctis' leg with one hand and guided his cock between the prince's thighs. It was warm and soft as he slid against them, the slap of his hips against Noct's legs outright filthy. Prompto had gotten so lost in the fucking incredible sensation that he'd let his eyes shut. When he opened them again to look down at his sweet captive, Noctis was watching him—or, rather, watching his cock. The prince's chest still heaved as he caught his breath, eyes almost closed as he watched Prompto use him.

Noctis didn't derive any true pleasure from it, but watching Prompto's composure crack and listening to the breathy swears falling from his lips, the lips that had left marks all across Noctis' throat, it was almost as good. Prompto's thrusts had no rhythm, he was just as desperate as he'd made Noctis, but unlike Noctis, he wasn't as much of a wreck. Noctis felt the blond's orgasm more than he saw it, but Prompto did bite his lip, his nails digging half-moons into Noctis' skin. The messy, warm white that dripped onto Noctis' thighs smeared as Prompto pulled back, and the prince's legs fell apart again. Prompto fell forward as well, catching himself on one arm right above Noctis' face. Eyes wide, Noctis stared up at his…his…

Prompto was a criminal, a kidnapper. He was only using Noctis to get what he wanted, and he'd outright threatened him earlier. And yet, even with all of those things…

Prompto smirked above him, and Noctis simply rolled his eyes. "You can take out my rate from your ransom," he remarked sardonically.

Prompto huffed out a laugh, dropping a kiss to Noctis' forehead. Prompto stretched out to reach for a strewn jacket, all while Noctis began to grasp the very real fear of Prompto leaving him like this. Right when he was about to voice that panic, Prompto leaned back, jacket in hand, and started to wipe away the evidence painted across Noctis' body. It was, for lack of any better word, fucking weird to have Prompto clean him like this. It felt too intimate, especially with the only sound in the room being their shared frenetic breathing.

Fixing their respective clothes, Prompto was certain to take his time with Noctis, scraping his nails down the prince's stomach as he fixed the shirt and teasing when he zipped Noct back into his pants. Prompto didn't bother helping Noctis sit back up, instead standing up himself and stretching his arms above his head. It almost made Noctis seethe with envy, hearing the popping of the blond's muscles. "You use your gun on everyone you sleep with?" Noctis found himself asking, his voice almost cracking from dryness. Words came too easily with the strange little gunner.

Prompto clicked his tongue. "What can I say? You're special, Noct!"

Noctis almost started upon hearing that. It'd been used before, but in private, hearing that nickname from Prompto felt almost—

"Knock, knock!" The sudden rapping at the door startled Noctis, and he drew his legs closer to himself, as if it were obvious what he'd just been doing. Maybe it was, he could still feel the heat on his face. "Oi, your date's up. Ig's got it sorted," spoke the imposing man from before. He'd stepped into the room right after knocking, not bothering to await a reply.

Prompto leaned against the wall beside the door, head cocked to look at his friend. "Just him, huh? You skimp out on helping?" Prompto grinned. "Maybe you won't get a cut. I caught him, Iggy made the deal, what'd you do?"

Amber eyes cut towards Noctis then, pouring a nervous shiver through his nerves. Lying on the floor made the beast of a man look far more intimidating, and his steps shook the floor as he headed towards the prone prince. Noctis, to his credit, tried to look as dignified as one could manage while tied up and sprawled on the ground. The brunet man leaned down, his gaze assessing Noctis head to toe, like appraising something valuable. Well, Noctis supposed…

"Did a number on him already?" The behemoth chuckled, and Astrals, Noctis really was transparent. A big hand reached out for him, and he considered the deadly option of biting for all of two seconds.

"Crack!" A sudden, deafening bang echoed right above Noctis, prompting him to shout in surprise and the man before him to curse and yank his hand back. Noctis turned his gaze, round with shock, back to Prompto. There he stood, his gun aimed at the ceiling and the barrel still smoking, as he grinned at his companion with the innocence of a cat stealing milk. "Hands off."

The hulking man had gotten to his feet, perhaps to test Prompto's aim again, by the look of it, when the door flew open. This was a new man, the business one, Noctis realized. He smirked when he saw the glasses sitting high on the man's nose. Ig, they'd called him, though no doubt it was short for something else.

"Ig" glanced at all three men, assuring there were no bullet holes in any, before his shoulders lost their tension. "I can't leave you two alone for a moment. You violate the prince and try to murder one another," he groused. Hearing this one speak with such a reverence made the whole thing jarring. Prompto hadn't given one fuck about Noctis' title, he'd only used it as a joke, and he doubted the seething, scarred man cared, either.

Seafoam green eyes landed on him, then, and Noctis' breath caught. "I do apologize for my friends, highness. They are…fools, to put it delicately."

Both Prompto and his friend made differing sounds of offense, and Noctis found himself with a snicker on his lips. "I apologize for you having to deal with it."

Specs' lips curved in a small, wry smile, while the other two men shot Noctis scathing looks. It felt almost…right, somehow. It was dizzying. Maybe it was all the effects of a concussion he suspected having, maybe he could blame all of his terrible decisions on that.

"I get to guard his royal sarcasm, Prom can guard outside."

Prompto shot his towering friend a cold look, and Noctis feared the gun would make a reappearance. Fortunately, his (misplaced, he knew) trust in Specs pulled through.

The bespectacled man exhaled a long sigh that suggested he was far too used to his companions. "You are to do your jobs and not harass the prince. We've negotiated a price, his highness should go home tomorrow, plans in order."

To Noctis' horror, disappointment welled at the thought. Perhaps it wasn't the other three who were dishonorable at all. Prompto knelt beside him then, fingers wrapping around Noctis' throat, not enough to harm, but enough.

Like a collar.

"Who says?"