He wanted to push Tony. Wanted to hit him and shove him and make him go away.

Instead, he reared back, turning away and clasping his hands together so they had something to do besides punch his friend, swearing a blue streak. As long as he lived, he refused to lay his hands on someone he loved, but sometimes he was so tempted that it terrified him.

"What do you want from me?!"

There was a roar in his head and color in his face and he just wanted to be alone. He wanted to punch and kick and smash. Why had he ever believed that this would end in any other way?