The Fae King remained so wholly oblivious to the notion that he possessed any talents beyond the ability to conceal himself and those he chose from view. That he had, somehow, gained an ability to encourage those emotions of both protective and possessiveness in people still sat so innocently outside his knowledge as to did any understanding that he had, quite accidentally, coaxed such a thing to life within his vampire companion the last time they had lain together. He was too, unaware that his mere presence perhaps and the proximity of Sebastian so seemed to coax this hidden affinity into life. There was, after all, no manipulation to be had in this instance. Such a power simply, subconsciously, remained entirely content to stoke that metaphorical fire of possessiveness that exists- the very one he had lit and so unleashed. Yet, perhaps, had Dorian held any knowledge of that which he had started some nights ago, that which he continued to coax every now and then he may well have made no move to change it all the same. He was, when it came to Sebastian, perhaps a little possessive himself.

The vampire's explanation of just why the food of his people was so seemingly concealed is met with a clear look of inquisitiveness from the Fae man. It was, on some level, a form of peasant food it would seem and yet Dorian hardly finds it within himself in this moment to reject it so readily just yet. He is a curious being in every sense of the word and even despite the unusual manner in which the meal had been presented to him the King is determined to try it all the same. How best so consume the fried food however is a notion that escapes him, Dorian quite content to watch Sebastian for several moments, if only to assure he himself eats the food in the manner as to which it was designed. He could not remember, truly, the last time he had eaten with his hands. As a child perhaps, when he was too young to be made to understand the meaning of cutlery and indeed here and now a part of the man finds an enjoyment of sorts- in taking up such a task. It is an act so seemingly mundane and yet it is rare in any sense for Dorian to break with decorum within the public eye- the man still very much a prisoner of his time and culture and yet that shadow of a simper brushes his lips all the same. There was enjoyment- in eating food with his hands, along with ever so subtly attempting to lick his fingers, Dorian unware Sebastian had witnessed his momentary lapse into the improper.

That Ireland and potatoes went to together in any sense of the word is a notion lost upon the man. Ireland, after all, is one such country Dorian holds decidedly little knowledge of. Sebastian's mention of it here and now is the first he has heard of it and yet the man had become used to the fact his knowledge of geography was no longer correct. Ireland was merely another land to search for within his books- the name committed to memory. His head inclines upward and away from his meal at Sebastian's mention of this restaurant. A place Samantha too had mentioned and yet one that sees the faintest look of curiosity touch his features.

"I have not been to this place before, I should like that."

He muses the words softly, a simper once more touching his lips before his focus again returns to the meal before him. He is pleased with the taste, the texture, even the salt that seems to cling to it. His first experience with fried food a decidedly pleasing one. For more than merely the food perhaps- his mind as always content to linger upon his lover beside him. Dorian content, truly, too simply exist in the same space as the vampire. The grin that teases momentarily upon his lips is very near impish in its design, Dorian content to offer the words that had come, so often, to conceal his less than chaste intentions before his thumb moves to brush along Sebastian's lip in a manner decidedly teasing. It was all-too-easy to make such lips part, though whether by touch alone or that instinctive anticipation of blood Dorian hardly knew, nor found he hardly cared. He merely enjoys the touch and the way in which Sebastian so responds. There is a certain pleasure all its own to be had in informing the vampire of these things about himself even he does not know, his own simper still lingering.

"We do."

He responds simply, before Sebastian's own question sees his attention return in full to the man, his gaze lingering as it so often did upon the vampires own. Though indeed, in this moment, there existed a wary anticipation of sorts- a response not yet formed dying upon his lips as Sebastian's own so swiftly found the line of his jaw just below the ear. He cannot prevent the short, sharp intake of breath this results in, nor the manner in which even his skin seems to rise in response to this momentary caress and the warmth of his words. Ah, but it would seem he had underestimated his companions ability to play! For the briefest of moments even Dorian is given to forget entirely where it is they sit, that such a touch, if witnessed, would surely see them in trouble- his mind focused entirely on the loss of those lips upon his neck in a manner he so enjoys. If only they were not so surrounded by others!

"I did know this but- I did not know you could hear it."

It is entirely the truth, the faintest of chuckles rising within his throat once more at this notion his own heart had surely betrayed him in this. Though indeed he is aware that when it came to Sebastian it had, perhaps, betrayed him in far more than simply that. A notion fortunately short lived as he moves to finish the last of his meal- waiting for his companion to do the same before he stands once more.

"Come, let us see what is over there."

He gestures further up the street they had made truly little progress on traversing, waiting for Sebastian to reach his side once more before strolling forward and into the antiques section of the market. This, in the least, seemed to afford the ancient Fae some hint of familiarity. The man pausing every now and then to examine one thing or another with evident curiosity. So many of these things, so aged, were still younger them himself- much of them holding uses outside his knowledge and yet it fascinates him all the same. His wanderings, at last, bring him to a rather well decorated tea stand- this one proudly displaying several very old and fine china tea pots, cups and their accompanying saucers. The woman behind the stall was perhaps overzealous in her desire to share her knowledge of tea, Dorian nodding politely for several moments before looking upward once more.

"Bastien?"

He calls easily to the vampire paused merely a few feet away examining something of his on liking, waiting for his companion to come to his side before selecting one of the fine china cups and saucers, offering it to his companion now to examine, before speaking to the woman once more. Asking her to repeat that which she had just told him of the history of the cups and saucers before them and within Sebastian's hands. In truth, Dorian holds no interest at all within such a thing, he merely seeks to distract his companion and thoroughly so, his side pressed entirely against Sebastian's own now. His arm moves easily around behind Sebastian, though indeed he continues to listen to the talking woman as if his attention is truly upon her, his fingers ever so softly brushing against the vampire's back- making him entirely aware of just where his hand was. It is easy then, to flatten his hand, sliding it downward slowly and over Sebastian's jean-clad butt, letting his hand slip into the back-pocket of Sebastian's jeans to press a little more firmly there.

"That, I think Bastien, is a very expensive tea cup. It is very delicate."

Dorian is entirely content, here and now, to take advantage of the vampire's hands being otherwise occupied and the woman attempting to explain to him the history of such fine china.....

He knows exactly what he is doing.

Dorian Aragona