Ashley's mollified by the laughter, because he doesn't mind being laughed at half so much as he minded Ereuvir's accusations. Ereuvir's attention is back where it belongs, on him, and Ashley's pleased by it.

He moans at the bite, arching against Ereuvir and writhing in his lap, wanting more of such treatment. "I like posing," Ashley argues, having no intention of ceasing prettiness and posing just on account of Ereuvir finds it less honest. It is a sort of honesty, for Ashley, and he doesn't intend to give up any aspect of the things that please him. "Force me to share your bed," he huffs next, still sore over the things Ereuvir said. "As if it was your idea."