In truth, the vampire had little concern for his current state of existence, except perhaps the slight discomfort of so having paint in places he didn't particularly like to have it. He was, that aside, hardly in any sort of rush to free his body from the substance. Certainly the vampire had been in far worse states, the man entirely assured that their current 'disaster' of sorts was entirely fixable with an extended stay within that warm embrace of the liquid that poured in such a gloriously steaming fashion from that facet. Still, his anticipation of what he was assured would be utterly heavenly was distracted entirely by the sound of those French lyrics from the lips of his so devotedly cherished King. A warm simper crossed his own features, his gaze once again darting towards that mirror Dorian stood in front of to so critically eye the hues of blues and greens to littered his frame. "Je te remercie, ma bichette." (Thank you, my little pet). He uttered softly, his gaze entirely trained upon his companion as Dorian so approached the edge of that porcelain bathtub. His hand settled within the offered one of King's own, allowing the fae to so lead him into that water and, in turn, settle at his lover's side.

In those entirely serene moments within the depth of that bathtub, Sebastian all too readily embraced the simple touch of Dorian's body against his own, allowing the man to lean into him and, instead, leaning forward ever so slightly to rest his head upon the King's shoulder. He allowed his lover to take his arm, that careful rubbing of that paint so saw it dissipate to reveal that lovely, pale pristine flesh once again. Sebastian's head shifted at the King's movement, his gaze so briefly meeting the man's own, relishing in that caste kiss before the news that Dorian had so attempted to soften tumbled from the King's lips. The vampire could hardly help the fashion at which his eyes widened ever so slightly at the prospect that he might have to spend an extended amount of time with his hair so tainted those hues of blue and green, the appearance far beyond the norm for the Victorian man, enough so that he found himself unable to stop the concern that laced his own lyrics as he inquired to exactly the extent of what Dorian had so cautiously hinted at.

Despite his perhaps salacious habits, Sebastian had remained decidedly strict with other protocols expected of him. He was always dressed immaculately for the occasion, never late, and always minded the social graces that were so required of him. Although the world had surely changed entirely from his upbringing, and though he had done his best in some aspects to so evolve with that rapid shift in culture, the peculiar hues of hair were one such area where he had entirely failed to grasp such modern appearances. He was oblivious, in that moment, to his lover's capability to so effortlessly pick up on the vampire's noteable vice, his presentation decidedly more vital to him then he so often made it seem. Briefly, his gaze shifted towards his companion as the man admitted that the paint had, perhaps, stained his hair, that sheer use of that simple word only saw the vampire's concern increase notably - he was certain, in that moment he was going to be stuck like this for months. Maybe they could simply...re-dye it? That was a thing wasn't it? His lips parted, clearly intending to ask such a question before Dorian suggested he might have something worth trying.

The vampire sat altogether still as his companion so cupped his hands together, gathering a small bit of water before pouring it over those turquoise locks. He could feel the liquid as it fell down his back though his hair hardly seemed any less tainted then it had been but moments ago. His lips pressed together, the vampire's eyes so turning back towards his lover despite his assurance of his fate, as if, somehow Dorian alone might hold answers for him in this conundrum he'd so unexpectedly found himself within. He was well aware of the look that was so mirrored within those silver eyes, somehow confirming that Sebastian was entirely stuck with such a color so tinging his hair even if the King refused to so easily admit defeat. He watched as the man rose, his own navy gaze following the King as the man stepped from the tub, drifting towards the vanity only to fetch a towel folded so nicely upon that granite counter top. It was that which first gave Sebastian any indication of the man's intent to so leave him. Sebastian felt that lurch in his chest at the sheer notion of his lover so being out of his sight, "Wa-" He started, rising from the water only to find that simple need to so be at Dorian's side suddenly diminish as the King so stepped from that bathroom.

A soft sigh so left his lips as his head tilted to the side, simply listening for the retreating sounds of his lover's feet. His lips twisted in the smallest of frowns, the man settling back down in the warmth of that water, leaning fully into it's embrace till the liquid came up to his neck. For a moment, he simply stared at the ceiling before his hands slowly began to work at his own figure, attempting to rid himself of the paint in the same methodical rubbing fashion in which Dorian had so done to his arm. It was particularly slow work, the vampire having made rather little progress by the time he heard the sound of Dorian stepping through that bedroom door. The King's simple presence so managed to make the Englishman snap to attention, his indigo gaze immediately found Dorian's figure only to watch as the man approached, dropping his towel to the tiled floor with a bottle so quizzically nestled within his fingertips. Sebastian sat up ever so slightly, making room for his lover as the man once again joined him in the bath.

It was the presence of that bottle that Sebastian himself was so able to recognize that brought a measure of perplexity to his own features as he repeated the words displayed on that label, "Olive oil?" Why Elizabeth seemed so certain it would free him of this color was beyond him but she had yet to fail him to date - perhaps this was too one of those womanly secrets to so remove anything from a place it was not wanted. Still, Sebastian turned ever so slightly at Dorian's gesture, trusting the man entirely as he heard that bottle open. Sebastian could hardly deny that, despite this peculiar set of circumstances he found himself within, the touch of his lover's fingers so running through his once blonde locks still brought him some measure of comfort as Dorian so worked that oil into his very scalp. Sebastian wasn't entirely sure if he had high hopes for this process but he kept such doubts to himself, his attention drifting only as Dorian's hands began to so move lower down from his head to his neck and then his shoulders. It was peculiar really, the way in which Dorian's fingers so seemed to work out any knots within his body, coaxing a sort of relaxation that he hadn't known he'd been so desperately needing. A soft breath so left his lips as he leaned into that touch and too, Dorian's embrace. His hair was nearly entirely forgotten in that moment, reminded only by the genteel kiss of Dorian's lips against his ear, so seeking to reassure him that he was finally free of that turquoise color.

A simper so blossomed across his features, his gaze immediately turning towards the mirror before he moved away from the man only just enough to dunk his head beneath the water entirely, working to free the remains of that oil from his blonde locks. The vampire surfaced but moment's after, shaking his head free of any bits of remaining wetness in an entirely playful fashion only to so find his reflection within that mirror - entirely pleased with the results. "Come now, it's your turn. You still have it on your neck." He commented, reaching his hand out for that clearly magical oil that could so effortlessly undo their reckless fervor.