It was hardly any secret that Sebastian so relished in nights such as these - evenings which had, prior to Dorian's existence within his life, been naught but eves spoke of in fairy tales. Even those with his own wife were fraught with far more conflict than the easy tranquility the pair had so effortlessly managed to acquire in those precious moments. The vampire had all too eagerly allowed his own gardens to be the product of Dorian's endless experimentation, if only for the promise that such diligent practice of that new found affinity offered when it came to the fae King's continued presence within his home. It was peculiar really, that in the wake of what was a mere week after that disastrous dinner, he had found himself so terribly longing for Dorian to the point that now, he ever so greedily welcomed the King's continued stay under any guise he could so get it. Those past few nights had been nothing but glorious for the Englishman - to so have his lover continually at his side and yet, he also knew, they would only make it all the harder when Dorian saw it fit to leave him once again for that fae woman he cherished perhaps equally as so. In those months after that commitment made in the darkness of his vehicle - Dorian had somehow become the very definition of 'home' for him. It was a feeling he had not experienced in centuries.

As it was, for now, Sebastian found himself entirely content to remain nestled in those silken sheets that adorned his bed, that warm porcelain cup within his hand afforded him a sort of warmth he was entirely unwilling to give up. His gaze meandered with a lackadaisical ease over the columns of the newspaper. It was a silly vice, perhaps, to so keep up with the news within his home country in such an outdated fashion and yet, even if he embraced many aspects of modern culture, little could so replace the texture of newspaper or the smell of that ink. He glanced over the small section of foreign countries political affairs, holding little interest even in the country he presently resided. Rather, it was the section on a fourteen year old girl's judicial attempt to have her dying body frozen that caused his eyebrows to shift, a soft inquisitive sound leaving his lips before he so brought that cup of tea to his mouth to sip upon that steaming warmth that filled his throat. It was the feeling of Dorian shifting in his lap that pulled his attention away from the article and towards the man that reclined ever so elegantly against him.

For a brief moment, his blue eyes glanced down the length of the shirtless man in his lap. His gaze was entirely content to simply observe the beauty of the King's figure, the vampire still willing to admit, at least to himself, that he still found Dorian just as breathtaking as he had been the evening they had first met. Still, it was Dorian's voice that caused his head to tilt to the side, his own bare shoulders offering little more than a shrug. "We don't have to go out." He stated simply, entirely oblivious to the plans his lover had made without his knowledge. Instead, his gaze turned towards the newspaper in his hand once again, glancing over the newest column concerning Britain exiting the European Union. The sound of his name caused his attention to turn away from the newspaper once again, his blue gaze met his silver hue of his lover's eyes. "Hm?" He inquired, his head tilting to the side ever so slightly.

Dorian's question caused his lips to press together ever so slightly, his eyebrows furrowed ever so slightly in consideration. He gingerly placed the newspaper down beside him before placing the cup of tea on his nightstand. He leaned forward ever so slightly to glance at the book in Dorian's lap, his eyes brushed across that paragraph Dorian so gestured to, reading that definition of dehydrated. "I...suppose it's not....wholly incorrect." He responded, leaning back against the mahogany headboard. "Dehydration though is often used for water but...I suppose yes, I am dehydrated for blood. Being thirsty for you just doesn't quite have the same flare as being hungry for you though." He added in an afterthought, clearly teasing his lover in return. He picked that cup back up, wrapping both of his hands around it as if he could so draw that welcomed heat from that ivory porcelain. He paused, sipping on that tea as his gaze drifted towards the only slightly opened curtains in the far wall. "Where did you want to go tonight?" Sebastian questioned softly, his attention turned back towards his beloved King.