A warm grin crossed the vampire's features as Dorian inquired as to just how many sweets were required to so coax the vampire in front of the piano for him again. In truth, very little was required to so bring Sebastian to the front of that piano and yet, so very few could stand to so listen to the melodies he could produce, at least, not any more. The absence of those warm bodies had prompted a certain measure of difficulty in so perfecting that curse that had befallen him and yet, rather than dwell on such things that Dorian himself would discover soon enough, he mere offered his lover the smallest of shrugs. The vampire leaned forward ever so slightly to mirror his lover's body, letting his lips brush across his companion's. There was no denying that Sebastian was a sexual creature by nature, much of his life simply relying on his ability to perform in this such regard and yet, the simple fact that it was but Dorian alone whose mouth brushed against his certainly only further heightened the Englishman's acute attention to every brush of flesh and ever caress of lips he was afforded, even after the months that had passed. In compared to the centuries he had existed without an affection such as this, the mere time they had spent together was but a blink of an eye.

Thankfully, the staff was all too eager to have the pair leave, the process of paying for their meal entirely quick and, soon enough, Sebastian found himself rising from the table with his lover at his side. His own idle comment left his lips of so taking advantage of that extra night he was unexpectedly provided. Still, it was the sound of those French words that so immediately caught his attention as the pair made their way out from the crowded foyer of the still busy restaurant. It was only once they had refound that fresh air, and Dorian's hand was once again nestled within his own, that Sebastian saw himself relax enough to let his thoughts dwell upon those ever so intriguing words his lover had so offered him. That prospect of what those hard surfaces in his home might so be useful for was certainly more of a predominant thought in the vampire's mind, his eyebrow raising ever so slightly at the notion and yet, it was with ease the vampire offered in response, "Alors je serai certain de ne pas décevoir." (Then I shall do my best to not disappoint) He muttered softly in response, pulling his lover closer towards him in the process and yet for all that want of Dorian's body back against his own as it had been but hours ago, there was still that simple inquiry that so lingered between them. What would he play?

It was a question that required far greater of consideration then he was sure his lover quite realized. Sebastian knew well what would happen the moment his fingers hit the keys with Dorian in the same room and this mood, this hint of lust, it was one he hardly wished to see tainted in any which way. A soft sound of consideration left the vampire's lips as he fell to silence upon their walk, his own thoughts drifting through the veritable array of classical works that the vampire so cherished. After all, it was those pieces he loved far more than the modern works upon the piano. "I think....a piece by Alexander Scriabin." He commented softly, his eyebrows furrowing ever so slightly in the process. Yes, his works would do. They were far more placid then his beloved Chopin, and less overplayed than Mozart or Beethoven. Nevertheless, Sebastian was content to lead the way back to the comfort of his own mansion. The warmth of that home embraced them all too eagerly and yet, for once, it was not the stairs he led his lover towards but rather a room he had yet to so present to the King, even if he was assured Dorian had well explored every room within his northern Estate.

It was with a flick of his wrist that the ballroom was flooded with the warm glow of the chandelier that hung ever so perfectly in the middle of the nearly empty room. That well cared for piano on the far side nearly gleamed in that softened light, so calling to him in the fashion that such an instrument without fail seemed to. Sebastian crossed the room, his fingertips reaching out to brush the polished surface with a glimpse of adoration. "Hello, Timothy." He uttered softly to it before gingerly flicking up the lid that so protected those ivory keys. He pulled out the bench, settling upon it before gesturing his lover to the free space at his side. This was, without a doubt, perhaps the only place where, no matter where in the world he was, he felt as if he belonged. It was a feeling that, prior to Dorian, could only be achieved at the seat of that piano. His fingers lightly moved over the keys, not actually pressing them to produce any sound but more simply feeling them for what they were. There was a soft sigh upon his lips before his gaze turned slowly towards his lover at his side. It was only fair to inform Dorian of exactly what he was getting himself into.

"Ma Biche, there is something you should know....I have a certain...aptitude for music, like the threads." He stated simple enough, those bright blue eyes entirely focused upon his lover as he admitted the hesitance that so afflicted him. "Unfortunately, it is not one I have learned to master yet. If I play this, it might make you feel....different. I wanted to make sure you were prepared for that." It was difficult to explain how his ability so worked, especially when Sebastian's own understanding of his capabilities was tentative at best. Even his own servants had difficulty at times to so be in the same room with that instrument in his hands, especially those evenings when he poured his heart out on those ivory keys.