Archive of Our Own

“This is a lovely restaurant, isn’t it?” Caesar said as they took their seats. He wasn’t wrong. The wine service was friendly and efficient. Their seats were on a balcony, offering unparalleled views of the Majorca coastline. Most importantly, this was the cheapest place they’d visited their entire honeymoon. Small portions, sure, but good food. Despite Joseph’s real estate business putting them firmly in the 1%, both him and his new husband (husband! He still hadn’t got used to calling him that) could appreciate a good bargain. 

“I know, right?” Joseph responded, taking a generous sip of his strawberry daiquiri. “It’s so nice eating with the sound of waves in the background. The seagulls too; it’s so tranquil.” 

 “Those seagulls are out for blood, JoJo.” Caesar rolled his eyes, smiling. “Oh, is that the chorizo? Excellent.” The plate was placed in the centre, both eagerly picking up the cocktail sticks the meat was skewered on. 

“Ugh, this is so good,” Joseph moaned. “I could have this all night.”

“I know; this isn’t the first stick of meat you’ve said that about this holiday.” 

His comment earnt him a friendly slap from Joseph. “Rude, but true.” He bit down on the bottom of the stick, sliding the meat cubes into his mouth. “It’s very strongly seasoned though. Perhaps that’s the custom over here.”

“You think so?” Caesar took another stick, biting down. “I’m not so sure I agree.” 

“Really? You’re whiter than I am!” Joseph laughed very handsomely. Again, technically not wrong: Joseph had developed an excellent tan over the past week, whereas Caesar had to slather on factor 50 every day to avoid burning to a crisp. But his palate wasn’t going to be outdone by someone from England of all places. He took another bite. He didn’t think it was over flavoured at all! Maybe the whole ‘omegas having stronger taste buds’ theory held some weight. 

The second dish was delivered to their table. It was Patatas Bravas, a tapas classic. They pulled out their forks for the first time and scooped it onto their miniature plates. 

“Oh my God this is spicy,” Joseph said. “It’s burning my lips!”

“It’s Patatas Bravas cazzo; it can’t be that bad.” Caesar took a forkful delicately, savouring the subtle spices. “It’s spicier than we get at home, I’ll admit; authentic, I suppose.”

“No but like, it’s burning my lips!” Joseph took a large gulp of water. 

“That’s… not normal. See those guys over there? They’ve got the same as us --  let’s see what they say.”

Doing their best to look as inconspicuous as possible, the pair of them peered two tables down at the family he’d pointed to. There were four of them: a mum, a dad, and two daughters. The younger daughter was in a high chair, being spoon fed by the father. She was gurgling happily between bites, staring up at her father with adoring eyes.

Caesar turned back to his husband. “It’s definitely you. A two-year-old can handle it.” He took another bite. “JoJo? Are you listening to me?” 

Joseph’s eyes had not left the family. He leant his cheek on his hand, staring. The dad continued to feed the younger daughter, the pair talking between spoonfuls.

“When the waitress comes back over, what are you going to say to her?” the dad trilled.

The girl giggled, waving her arms around. “Tank—tank—"

“What do we say when we like something?” he cooed, tickling her under her potato-covered chin. 

She screamed with laughter, wriggling in her seat. “Tank you!” 

“That’s it! You’re so smart, Lizzy,” he said, pressing a kiss on his daughter’s forehead. When he pulled back the girl did the same, inadvertently wiping potato over his cheek. “Oopsie!”

Caesar was torn away from the scene by the waiter returning to their table. “Garlic shrimp with paprika. Enjoy.” 

Caesar speared one onto his fork, nibbling at it. “Mhm, this is sublime. ” He tapped Joseph on the shoulder. “Earth to JoJo. Shrimp’s here.” 

He didn’t stir from his stupor, continuing to watch the family. The mother appeared to be coaxing the older daughter into trying the griddled asparagus. 

“It’s not that bad Eleanor, you just have to try it—”

“No!” the girl – Eleanor – snapped, crossing her arms and shaking her head drastically. “Disgusting green stuff.” 

“You know, if you don’t eat your green stuff you’ll never grow to be big and strong.” 

“What if I don’t want to be big and strong?”

“Well… if you’re not strong, you’ll never win the sack race at Sports day.” That seemed to do the trick, the girl grabbing a fistful of asparagus and forcing it down her throat. 

Caesar gave his husband a shove, a substantial one. “Do you want this shrimp, or are you just going to sit there and daydream?”

“They’re so sweet,” Joseph cooed, seemingly lost in his own world. “She’s a feisty one, that one. Look at her little scowl.”

“JoJo, it’s rude to stare.”

“That could be us one day,” he sighed. “Can you imagine? We’re sat here with one of our own spawn, half you, half me. They’re giggling at my dad jokes, cramming their face with enchiladas. They’ve  got—”

“Your sass and my temper.” Caesar shoved the shrimp under Joseph’s nose. “I need a few years to mentally prepare. Are you going to have any shrimp before they get cold?” 

“I never said it was a realistic fantasy.” He sighed, putting the rapidly cooling shrimp on his plate. “But it could be. Would our child have your birthmarks?”

“Yes, and they would wear a little sailor outfit with patent leather booties.” Caesar rolled his eyes. “Oh look, the seagull’s got the older one’s ice cream.”

So it had, a small flock of the birds eating the scoop off the floor, while the girl scream-cried behind them. Her parents ran to console her, saying they’d get her another one at a less crowded place. The younger one, angry at her father for dividing his attention, pushed her bottle off the tray of her high chair. 

“Will you be wanting the bill?” the young waitress asked them,, before taking in the scene before her and backing off. “I’ll be back in a bit!” 

“Ah yes: domestic bliss,” Caesar said to the waitress when she bought their next dish. She made an expression between a smile and a grimace before returning to the family, who had been mostly placated by the promise of a replacement ice cream. 

For the first time in a while, Joseph tore his eyes away from their table. “Meatballs! My faves,” he said, stuffing it into his mouth whole. His face comically shifted from happy to horrified in a matter of seconds. “HOLY SHIT! That’s so spicy!” He downed the remainder of his water – then made the unfortunate mistake of spitting, sending the backwash into the glass.

“JoJo, that’s disgusting. ”

“I know but – oh my God my mouth’s on fire!”

The gentle breeze that came off the sea was a nice contrast to the sun on the balcony – despite the late hour –  left them exposed to.

“Caesarino, d’ya want to go out again?” Joseph asked as he returned from the kitchenette, supermarket-bought cheese platter in hand. 

“We’ve got the rest of our lives for that, tesoro,” Caesa responded, taking a lump of gruyere. “I’m happy here; are you not?”

“No, it is nice here…. It’s just a bit – salty? You get me?”

“If you’re talking about the cheese, it’s meant to be like that.”

“I don’t mean the cheese – I mean the smell . Can’t you smell it?” 

“No? What are you on about pazzo?” 

Joseph took a deep sniff, then gagged. “It’s really strong! There’s the salt and the seaweed and the place on the street making Paella – it’s kinda overwhelming to be honest.”

“First the tapas, now the place on the street – Mamma mia, are you a wolf?”

Joseph looked up. He was too busy hoovering up emmentile to respond. 

“Quite possibly,” Caesar deadpanned. He snatched up a triangle of spotty red he couldn’t place the name of while he still could. The complaints about flavour, the heightened senses, extreme hunger – what did it mean?

Then it clicked. “JoJo,” Caesar said, realisation dawning, “you’re going into heat.”

“I’m doing what now?” he mumbled through a mouthful of cheddar. “This is really good by the way, better than what you can get at home—”

“Did you take your suppressants?”

“Uhhh, don’t remember. I think so?”

“Well you obviously didn’t if you’re acting like this. Would the intermarche sell them? Is it still open this time at night?”

Joseph shook his head. “Doesn’t matter. If you start getting symptoms you’ve left it too late..”

“So all we can do is… wait?” 

“More or less. We got anything planned tomorrow?” 

“I cannot believe you cazzo,” Caesar snarled. “How hard can it be? Aren’t you in the habit by now?”

“I must have left them at home! With all the stress of the wedding and honeymoon I just… forgot.” 

“Well, we were planning to go to the market tomorrow but I guess we don’t have to.” 

“No, I want to go? How am I supposed to embarrass our children without a Hawaiian shirt?” 

“That’s years away. Like I said, we’ve got the rest of our lives to buy hideous khaki shorts.”

Joseph stopped mid-chew. “Years?”

“Yeah, years.” Caesar laughed. “What, you want to get knocked up right away?”

Joseph didn’t respond. 

“Oh wait… you’re serious ?” 

Again, no reply. He didn’t actually want to have a child this early, right? The ink on their wedding certificate had barely dried! 

In fairness, he’d never spent a full-on heat with an omega before: perhaps baby fever was par for the course. Maybe if he hadn’t dropped out of school at 13 he’d know better. 

Despite the lack of flowers around, the faint smell of pollen wafted over via the ocean breeze. One look to his left confirmed that the source was from Joseph’s direction, although he seemed unaware of it. Now he was taking a deeper breath he noticed it was rich and layered with various components Caesar couldn’t exactly place but combined to make something completely, utterly, irresistible. He shuffled his deck chair a little closer, hoping to get a better read on it.

“You like my scent CiCi?” Joseph said, grinning. “I’ve been told it’s irresistable.” 

“That’s you?” Caesar said, incredulously. “You’re lying.”

“Nuh-uh.” He wiggled a finger. “All natural. Every omega has a scent. It’s supposed to entice alphas into mating them. And you really seem to be liking mine—”

“We are not ready for a baby, stronzo. Don’t you want a little marital bliss before we speed everything up again?”

“I’m Joseph Joestar! I don’t do slow!” He moved the now-empty cheeseboard off his lap, got off his deckchair, and moved over to Caesar’s, straddling him. “You won’t make me spend my heat alone, will you?”

“I’ll accompany you for your heat, but I do mean just that; accompany. We won’t be having full-on sex, and we certainly won’t be enabling your fantasies.”

“It doesn’t have to be a fantasy.” He placed a hand on his torso, rubbing circles with his thumb. “It’s gonna happen one day – why not today?” 

“It just feels so soon !” They were so close Caesar was blowing air onto his face with every word. Joseph was right though: that scent was intoxicating. He nuzzled his face in his husband’s neck. The scent was extra strong there, like it was secreting out of a spot he couldn’t see. 

“Can’t come soon enough,” Joseph whispered in response. He slid his hands down Caesar’s sides, and onto his thighs, adjusting so he was sat on his lap.  

“You’re heavy, JoJo,” Caesar groaned. “Were you always like this, or is this just the honeymoon phase wearing off?”

“Ouch,” Joseph responded, but he could tell he wasn’t really offended, an impression cemented by his hands moving to palm him through his trousers. 

“Do you need anything else for your heat?” Caesar asked, trying to divert his attention away from his rapidly growing erection. “I heard it’s good to have water on hand, as well as my old clothes for some reason—”

“The only thing I really need is you. When the heat really kicks in pretty much any alpha will do; but I think we’d both rather it was you, hm?” 

“Yes, we would ,” Caesar snapped. “Good to know I’m replaceable.”

“For heat purposes only! You see, I’m actually quite fond of you, you little shit.” He laughed, turning so he was sat between Caesar’s legs. “Enough to have you father my children, I dare say.” 

“Again with the kid shit! Is this your heat talking, or are you that obsessed?”

“Bit of the left, bit of the right. Now, my heat is really kicking off, so would you mind awfully taking me to bed and ravishing me?” 

“Why can’t you ask me like that the rest of the time?” Caesar laughed, snatching his water bottle off the floor. “Of course, your lordship, I would be delighted to accompany you.” 

“Honeymoon sex between an alpha and omega with intent of reproduction. His Victorian Lordship would be proud.” 

“I’m not so sure about the last bit… actually, you know what?” The pair of them half-walked, half-skipped through the apartment, “whatever gets you through this. I’ve heard heats can be painful, and I’m feeling generous. If you have any weird sexual requests, speak now or forever hold your piece.”

“Can I call you Daddy?” Joseph asked far too quickly. 

“Uh, I—” Sigh. It wasn’t something he’d usually be into; but he wasn’t one to go back on promises. And he’d said anything, hadn’t he? He’d made his own bed.

“ Fine. But just this once.”

“One day, you’re going to be a real Daddy.” 

“What are you on about, pazzo – never mind.” They’d reached the bedroom, Joseph making good headway on his too-small tshirt (not that he complained about the size. The barely-constrained view of his meaty pecs had been a highlight of this holiday.) Now it was off Caesar could see he’d been sweating buckets, the remaining stickiness clinging to his torso. 

“Do you need a shower? That looks uncomfortable—”

Joseph responded by yanking him onto the bed, sending him crashing down onto the mattress. “What I need,” he growled, pulling him closer, “is you.” He shucked his own trousers, peeling off the underwear alongside them and threw them off the side, the belt clattering against the wall. 

“Desperate, aren’t you?” Caesar teased, discarding his own top half in a similar fashion. “You want my cock that badly?”

“Yes, Daddy.” 

Now that he was saying it out loud, Caesar realised… he didn’t hate it. Although he’d likely be amenable to anything Joseph said in that breathy whisper, his sweaty form now wriggling underneath him. His fingers delved into Joseph’s pussy as he kissed his chest, more lips than tongue. Every breath he took was a desperate moan, Joseph’s body moving in a simple but ecstatic rhythm under his splayed legs. Caesar unzipped his trousers, pulling out his cock. “Well if you want it so bad, take it.”  He was practically sat on his face as Joseph eagerly took his cock in his mouth, wrapping his lips around the tip. He let Joseph set the rhythm, letting him bob his head as the glorious wet heat and talented tongue enveloped him. 

“Mm, look at you, taking me so well. You really are a good cocksucker, aren’t you?”

Joseph obviously couldn’t say any words back, so he responded with an “Mmh-hm,” moving his head up to meet the base. It was a delicious slide to get there, his tongue working up and down the shaft. He’d long since discovered that Joseph liked it rough, loved it when he pulled his hair while Joseph raised his head to ram his length down his throat. At some point a stray strand of drool escaped the corner of his mouth. Caesar leaned down to swipe it away

Caesar closed his eyes when he got there, savouring the moans that fell from Joseph’s parted lips. It made his insides bubble up, orgasm approaching all too quickly. 

“JoJo, I’m coming—” He only needed a few more strokes to get there, a couple more ministrations of that tongue—

But Joseph pulled off, head collapsing back onto the pillow. 

“Cazzo, what are you doing—?” Even without that final bit of stimulation, Caesar couldn’t stop himself from indulging in red-hot release. He threw his head back, fingers digging into Joseph’s scalp in a failed effort to delay his orgasm. Then he looked down. He’d painted Joseph’s blush-red face white with cum. But his lips were firmly closed, like he hadn’t even tried to catch it. 

  “Why didn’t you swallow? You always swallow!” 

Joseph stared at him like he was crazy, a gesture softened by the load on his face. “But that’s a wasteeeee~”

“What do you mean, ‘a waste’?.”

Joseph dragged his fingers across his cheek, gathering a clump on his fingertips. Then he slipped those fingers into his pussy with a squelching noise, burying them in deep. Then he did the same slightly higher on his face, again using the flat tips of his fingers to push further. 

. The scent of sex was overpowering, that and the sweat and the slick and whatever smell Joseph had been letting off since his heat started, all filling up the extremely small bedroom. It was starting to make him a little woozy, the sensation not helped by how hot the room had become with the heat of two adult men, one of whom was running hot from aforementioned heat. Meanwhile Joseph repeated the motion over and over, until most of his face was clear. His other hand was pushing further and further into himself, until his index finger was at the second knuckle. It wasn’t the usual fingering technique; no sign of stimulating the clit or the g-spot. And Caesar’s dick was right here!

“What are you doing?” Caesar asked, eyebrow raised. “I know I said I wouldn’t fill you earlier, but— ” 

Joseph opened his eyes fully, staring into Caesar’s directly. Then, like it was the most obvious thing in the world: 

“My mouth isn’t going to get me pregnant, is it?” 

Caesar’s jaw dropped. Could he—Would he—

“JoJo, are you on birth control?”

“I’ve got the pills in my bag.” 

“Answer me straight.” Caesar pulled his head up, making eye contact. “Have you been taking it?”

“Like I said,” he replied confidently, “they’re in my bag.”

Caesar wasn’t convinced. “And where is that bag?”  

One hand still shoved up his cunt, Joseph didn’t respond. He sighed blissfully as he slid the fingers in and out, gathering the drops that clung to the outside. 

“You’re… serious about the baby thing. I thought it was your heat talking but… wow. Just wow.” Caesar stared incredulously. He knew he should feel something. Angry, shocked, betrayed. But in truth, as he looked down at Joseph transferring the come on his fingers, he felt… begrudgingly impressed. And maybe a little aroused, as he sucked the last of it off his fingers, staring up at him in a way he knew Caesar liked. 

“Well, you might as well breed me now. Please? For me?” He spread his legs, scissoring himself open invitingly. 

“I cannot fucking believe you,” Caesar hissed. 

Well, the ship had sailed. “I can’t believe I’m rewarding you for bad behaviour,” Caesar said, lowering himself on top of him, “but I’m too horny to give a shit.”

“Of course, Daddy. It’s my mess to clean up.” There was the word again. Daddy. Caesar was starting to like his new title. 

“Well then,” Caesar said, with all the authority he could muster, “if you want Daddy’s cock so much,why don’t  you come and get it?”

Joseph pulled him in, wrapping his legs around his waist. Caesar felt his wedding ring dig into Joseph’s back as he maneuvered his hands down, the ring leaving a faint white scratch. Caesar dug his nails into his shoulders in turn, leaving his own little scratch marks along his upper back. Satisfied that Joseph had opened himself up, Caesar raised his hips and attempted to navigate his dick in the right general direction. Fortunately, ten years of experience meant he aligned himself quickly, pushing in to minimal resistance. Joseph moaned gratefully, cock filling his sense of purpose and the aching emptiness, giving Caesar all of his weight to stuff his pussy as full as it can get.

“Ah—Caes—”

“I’m gonna knock you up now, just like you wanted.” Caesar snarled, building up to a punishing pace. “That’s all you want, isn’t it? Just lying on your back, getting knocked up over and over like the slut you are.”

“Mhm—yeah, Caes, like that—” He stretched to accommodate his not-insignificant size. Ever-impatient, he bucked himself upwards to take his full length. 

“Course you’d like that, you fucking cumslut. You hate hard work.” 

“You know me so well,” Joseph replied while continuing up his hips.  The couple made out as they moved together, sliding strong hands over flushed skin, nipping and sucking at each other’s mouths. Both of them were sweaty now, chests coming stuck and unstuck with perspiration and cum. “Ah, AH, AH!” he moaned, feeling his cock hot and slick. He’d reached that delirious pleasure haze, wherein he stopped thinking about anything but Caesar’s cock ramming into him over and over again, driving him closer to overflowing. His eyes were wide and feral, flicking around at random but always returning to the man on top of him, jackhammering him for all it was worth. 

“Gimme your knot, please—” He didn’t sound all there, like he was a long way away in his own brain. “Breed me, breed me—”

“It’s coming, tesoro, just hold on—” He could feel it rising, locking in their decision. This was the point of no return. “You sure you want this?”

“Surer than I’ve ever been about anything! Now hurry up and come!” 

They stayed like that for about a minute more, coming ever closer to spilling over the edge. This could very well be cementing their decision and they both knew it, Joseph especially responding with an enthusiasm hitherto unrivalled. 

“JoJo, JoJo—”

“Daddy—” 

A couple more jerky movements and he came, spilling himself inside his husband. It lasted a few seconds longer than usual, though that could have been the adrenaline making the sensation white-hot. Immediately afterwards he collapsed, boneless onto Joseph’s chest, still inside him. 

“Did you come?”

He didn’t expect an immediate response; Joseph always was lazy after he came. But when he did respond, it was with a “no.” 

“No? I need to rectify that—”

“No, don’t. I don’t want to risk it.”

“Risk what?” Caesar asked, finally pulling out and rolling off him. 

Joseph moved his fingers back down to his pussy, forcing his load back inside him. “Don’t want it to escape.” 

“I get you. I do feel bad though,” Caesar half-said, half-whispered, planting a kiss against his husband’s neck. “Are you sure there’s nothing I can do?”

“Then I’ll be all dry and empty,” he whimpered back. He pulled the duvet over him, clearly ready to go to sleep. “I really want this.” 

“Well, there’s a good chance it’s happening now so…” Caesar trailed off. On the one hand, he was extremely annoyed, understandably so. But on the other, he was… excited? He’d known they were going to have a child one day, they’d talked about it enough times. Joseph rolled over in bed, snuggling up to his chest. 

“I’ve started thinking about baby names. How about you?”

“Well, I’ve thought about it… but it was only a hypothetical. I think I talked about it with my sister once.” He smiled, reminiscing. “I don’t think she really understood though. She was very young, so young that she thought ‘candle’ was an acceptable choice. After the candle from Beauty and the Beast.”

“Doesn’t the candle have a name?” Joseph asked, pulling up the notes app on his phone. 

“Yes, Lumier! And I told her that, but she didn’t like it. She also liked ‘Condo’.”

“I bet at least one real person is  called that,” Joseph responded, laughing. “Anyway, here’s the list. My absolute favourites are at the top—”

“JoJo, this list is huge!” Caesar said incredulously. “How long have you been doing this for?”

“Ah, um—” Joseph rolled away from him, but Caesar could see the blush creeping up his cheeks. “Since we met, actually.”

“Mamma Mia, really?” Caesar said incredulously. These revelations were getting weirder and weirder! “We beat each other up in front of the fountain and your first thought was to draft baby names?” 

“Yeppp. I took one look at you and thought, I want this man to father my children. Well not exactly like that but—”

“It was exactly like that, wasn’t it?” Caesar pulled Joseph’s body, so they were back to facing each other. “You little pain slut.” 

“It was exactly like that, yeah.” He smiled guiltily. “I wasn’t thinking straight—literally!” They both laughed. “You can see, the names at the bottom are… questionable.”

Caesar swiped his thumb dramatically. “Shizuka? I don’t hate that, surprisingly. You said your favourites were at the top, right?” He resumed scrolling, taking a fair few swipes to reach the top. “This is… a lot. On the positive side, pure statistics say I’ll probably like at least a few of these.”

Joseph beamed at him. “Yeah. My favourite girl’s name is Holly, but I’m more flexible with boys.” 

“More flexible with boys; title of your sex tape.” 

“You take that back! I completely let Tomoko peg me!” He accompanied this with a light shove, which in Joestar terms was a shove heavy enough to throw Caesar half off the bed. 

“Tomoko’s into pegging? Why doesn’t that surprise me,” Caesar said, rolling onto the bed and against Joseph’s sticky chest. “But you’ve really thought about this, haven’t you?”

“To tell you the truth… for the last ten years, I’ve fantasised about it almost every day. I want to have a tiny person run up to me when I get back from work, play frisbee in the park, pick them up from footy practice. I can’t wait to be a dad.” His hands found Caesar’s scalp, ruffling up the blond locks.  “One day they’ll be someone in the world that’s half me, half the person I love. Maybe more.” 

“You… never told me you felt this strongly. I always thought it was me pushing the big happy family!” 

“I always pushed back telling you to, oh, when we get our first apartment, then it became when we own the place, then it became when we both got good jobs—and it felt like my goalposts kept moving. But now we’re married… it feels like a good place to start. Catholic-approved and everything!” 

“I’m not so sure about that,” Caesar chortled. He tapped off the notes app, looking something up. “Just one last thing— the bag with your birth control in it. Where is it?”

“Ah,” Joseph said, looking guilty. “It’s… at home. And mostly empty, since I stopped renewing it just before our wedding.” 

“And the Plan B? Is that in the bag?”

“What’s Plan B?” 

“I’ll take that as a no.” Caesar tapped a few times on the phone, his face falling. 

“JoJo, come look at this. The district our apartment is in has terrible school ratings! We need to move, fast. Ideally to Manhattan, Upper East Side; I hear they have excellent teachers. Also, how many kids do we plan on having? If it’s just the one we could make do with a two-bedroom place like the one we have right now, but if we plan on having, say, six—”

“SIX? Are you insane! ?” 

“Ok, maybe not six. But the point stands: children need stability, so it would be beneficial to pick the right apartment straight off the bat. This one here: it’s a five-bedroom penthouse, very pricey, but it has excellent public transport links and a study we could convert into a playroom—”

“I love you, Caesarino,” Joseph said, cutting him off with a kiss. “But we can think about it when we get home. We don’t even know if I’m pregnant yet!” 

“I like to be prepared but… you’re right.” Caesar pushed the duvet to the foot of the bed. “Which is why we need to try again right now. And every other day this holiday, and every day until we see those red lines on the pregnancy test.”

“Sounds prepared to me! And after that?”

“We still fuck, obviously. We need to be double-triple sure.” Caesar sunk into the mattress as Joseph got on top of him, hair tickling his cheek. “But there’s only one way to make sure!”