There is something truly and unequivocally exceptional in the afterglow and subsequent satisfaction of truly good sex- the sort Dorian has been denied perhaps far too long. A truly talented ladies maid or page boy was not particularly easy to come about, most of them young, shy, barely experienced at best. Fellow rulers, in fact, tended to be a better source and yet political affairs were decidedly difficult to carry out, they often became messy in one way or another and in the wake of such a thing it had become decidedly rare for Dorian to ever seek the same companion twice. Tonight however, he has been left as he is so rarely ever left- satisfied. There is a pleasure all its own to be rendered exhausted from such activities, some of Sebastian's venom still lingering within his system, rendering the Fae blissfully calm in the wake of such a thing- much in the same way it seemed, that his own blood appeared to have sated the man beside him into a peaceful oblivion for at least a few moments. There is simply nothing but ragged breathing, mussed hair, the faintest sheen of sweat and the slow steadying of his own heart between them and for Dorian there is simply...perfection in that. He makes no move to interrupt such a thing, at least not for several minutes, before rolling at last to his stomach, fingertips crafting a pattern on the smooth plains of the man's chest as he speaks. He does not miss the raised eye of the vampire or the manner in which he responds near without pause. The first being, truly, to respond appropriately and with the right words and indeed Dorian finds there is much to be appreciated in a creature with enough age upon him to understand the formality of conduct- even if unneeded in this particular moment. The Fae however, finds himself equally as caught within an age-old habit, head dipping slightly, almost formally, in acknowledgement of the mans words before Sebastian's fingers reach for his own.

"Bastien."

He has merely shortened the man's name as most surely don't, his voice distinctly accented with its annunciation. That 'Seb' was, surely, an easier variant has failed to occur to him. The man's name, after all, is foreign to his tongue as it is, Dorian merely selecting his own variant. He switches effortlessly, absentmindedly, to toying with Sebastian's hand now. No more than fiddling really, turning it about softly, fingertips grazing his own before his gaze lifts to the now near shocking blue of the vampires own.

"When one is not wearing pants, one need not express all formalities."

A teasing simper dances briefly upon his lips, the other mans words clearly appreciated and yet within the same moment Dorian is content to dismiss him from them. Within the bedroom, after all, all such things have a habit of being cast aside and Dorian is content in that. The vampire's next words see his own eyes lift, if only momentarily, briefly caught off guard by the question as he contemplates its answer a moment before softly shaking his head.

"I did not come here by choice- though that is a story too long for tonight. At times I find myself desperately seeking my home and yet there are other times when, as you say, I am reminded of all the world and I think perhaps it is not so unfortunate I might be forced to see it. The world has changed much since I was last afforded a glimpse of it. It is round now."

That even this admittance, surely, speaks much of his age is unknown to the Fae, Dorian seeing little need to regal Sebastian with the tale of his unfortunate fall into the hands of Bandits- or Dark Hunters as Samantha called them. Not tonight. His gaze drifts from the hand he continues to tease and back to the vampires own once more, noting again how very alive the man seemed in these moments as he leans further upward a moment, allowing that silvery gaze to travel the length of Sebastian once more with an evident curiosity.

"Blood becomes you. I wonder-"

He pauses within his own thoughts a moment, the words caught upon his lips, unspoken, though his mind wonders truly what it might be like to afford the vampire blood before sex. Perhaps a little before, during and after. Would this only heighten the experience further? Could it be even more pleasurable? Surely not and yet his mind considers it all the same. Dorian finds himself pleased for the moment at least that he lays upon his stomach, the thought of such things stirring an ache he knows all too well within his groin that would surely be noticeable. It would be.....dangerous to entertain thoughts of this man a second time, Dorian content to dismiss them. They were no more than idle thought in the wake of their tryst, surely. His curiosity however, is not fully sated. He shifts slightly closer to the vampire and- much as he had done upon the street, allows his thumb to brush across the man's all-to sensitive upper lip. His thumb drops lower this time however, running across the man's right fang, marvelling at the feel of it, Dorian an entirely unashamed creature in any sense of the word. He turns his thumb ever so slightly, pressing it abruptly into the sharpened point of Sebastian's fang until blood wells to the surface before drawing his hand away and bringing it, suddenly, to his own lips. The taste is not entirely unpleasant and yet there was little about it he found decidedly alluring.

"It is not to my preference."

He admits easily, reaching back over to brush his thumb smoothly back across Sebastian's lips once more, affording him a final taste, whatever saliva exists upon the man's lips enough to cease the flow from the small wound.

"Is it only you- whom bites like that?"

Surely he thinks, this must be so, after all, if all vampires possessed a bite so like Sebastian's there are few whom would surely run from it. His hands withdraw to himself now, folding atop the bed, his head laying upon them a moment later in a decidedly boyish gesture and yet he is- tired. He has not been permitted a real bed in weeks, the call of this one almost overpowering now. He should not stay within it, he could not allow himself to become attached to the man, after all this arrangement is merely one night alone and yet his eyes have already begun to close. He is comfortable against the warmth of Sebastian and within those all too pleasant sheets. Dorian fighting momentarily to open his eyes again.