The jokes had been at the expense of his sexuality -- at his affection for Henry and the nature of their relationship -- but there was no use arguing semantics with a serpent. Gansey did not move. He kept his eyes angled up, undercut by cheekbones of steel and a jaw just as rigid. Kavinsky leaned and Gansey did not. Saying no was to be the only thing Kavinsky ever had on Richard Gansey III. He wouldn't rail, nor would he beg -- the mere idea was laughable.

"Do not touch me," Gansey said, sure of not much else but that Kavinsky was not going to touch him again. Kavinsky had a soul here. There were people and things he didn't want to lose. That made him a neutered Kavinsky. The Gansey Dynasty may not have meant anything here, but Gansey had the comfort of knowing that he was the same person. That no matter what his name meant, he was still doing good. Helping. Not hindering on a grudge like a petty child.

The bell chimed and Gansey let go of his breath. Well. That was an ill-advised venture. He should have just talked to Ronan.