Taskill's rubbing against him might not anger Bryn, but it angered Midnight easily enough; the alicorn was livid as he felt the sprite's response. It didn't help at all that his body reacted to it so predictably and found himself rutting right back. If anything, Midnight wasn't used to this kind of duality; things were always simple when he was himself, black or white, day or night, he could always be certain of what he wanted and how it was a good thing that he did.<br/><br/>That was before.<br/><br/>He didn't want to want any male the way he wanted these, for one. The thought jarred him.<br/><br/><em>I want Taskill</em><br/><br/>The very surprise of it released some of the control he had over himself, and a blast of red-hot-hungry /want/ surged from him in a wave strong enough to be felt by those without the proper barriers, then gone as soon as Midnight realized what he was doing. And that was exactly when the sprite was taken from him by the strength of the wizard's blow. His eyes went immediately away from Lyra and to the flying Ghille Dhu, widened even before the hand at his throat and the push of the mattres on his back took his breath away.<br/><br/>The cruel kiss did little to reassure him or return the air to his lungs, but quite enough to make the anger from earlier resurface all the way into Midnight's eye. Unicorns are creatures of love made magic; what are the odds of them turning into pure hate? Hate was the expression on his face when held down so easily, fueled by lust and impotence if nothing else -- let him have his hooves back and he would... he would what, really? Hands closed into fists at the trailing of Bryn's hand down his chest and abdomen, vest falling open as it was wont to do, and he could feel his erection aching to be touched and straining against his pants.<br/><br/><em>No.</em><br/><br/>He knew Bryn's question for a kind of triumph of his own -- until, that is, the pressure was off and his body bounced free upon the bed. The immediate rolling onto his stomach was reflexive, and so was the lift onto hands and knees that he stopped short when the action hit his mind. There was nothing he could do, and it ranked the most. He looked down for the fallen Taskill instead, forcing himself to blatantly ignore the show while offering the other male a hand to get back up.<br/><br/>And maybe ease the pain some. His healing wasn't like before, but he could still make things better if the Ghille Dhu welcomed it.<br/>