He half expected Ryland to get huffy and shove him off, half expected a more annoyed tone.  It seemed that the mutual familiarity was acceptable on both sides for whatever reason.  It was fingers in his hair that soothed him into closing his eyes.  He slowly rubbed his face against the warmth of Ryland’s thigh.  It was like a little fantasy for just a moment, everything calm and peaceful, cozy.  He ignored the uninterested words that hung there in the silence, then the comments on his hair.<br/><br/>There was no resistance as Ryland’s hand guided him, either.  Kethaias stared up at the delicately put together features of golden nobility to study the smile beaming down at him as if no crude suggestion had just been made.  Why did Keth find this devilish man so enticing?  Why did he<i>want</i>him so much?<br/><br/>But the rest of Ryland’s words began to cut deeper and deeper for no apparent reason other than a buildup of frustration and confusion, and there was only so much the short-tempered warrior king could take before he snapped.  The hand teasing down his chest seemed to light that fuse.  The last words that fell from smiling lips, and the painfully sweet caress along his own, only shortened it until Keth could take no more.<br/><br/>His anger erupted out of nowhere with his boot raising to find the edge of the table placed in front of them, the whole thing flipping over to spill all the carefully arranged contents with one forceful kick.  A moment later, Keth was turned around and pinning the prince in place with a well-placed knee and a firm hand encircling that delicate throat.  The fury in his eyes was undeniable, and while he did nothing to outright hurt the prince, the threat was real enough.<br/><br/>“Comfort?” he growled.  “Fun?  I am not here for your amusement, you spoiled… narcissistic…<i>whore</i>.”  Kethaias annunciated each word, drawing them out, the low rumble in his voice downright beastly.<br/><br/>“Everyone else here seems to know their place but you.  You stalk about this kingdom like a god, taking and taking, like it is all owed to you, but what do you have to give?  Other than your body, which you have made very clear how special that is not.  If I were your father, your brother… I would relish the opportunity to get rid of you.”  He leaned in closer, both loving and hating the fragrant scent of Ryland rising up to meet him.  “You are a shameful embarrassment.  A blemish.  A plague.  I.  Do not.<i>Want</i>.  You.”