Sebastian Ellington

Cause i've been dancing with shadows
waiting till the morning after

In those precious years of life, the Englishman had been well known amongst his peers for one singular thing in particular - a good time. He had built a reputation for himself. Wearing that guise of poised politeness when so faced with any initial social graces, those who stayed beyond those numerous one night stands knew well of his debauchery in other activities. The drinking, the partying, the sex - under the cloak of night he had once reveled in any such activity that the polite society of his status denied him. This impish, mischievous side of him that so utterly relished in disrupting that grace and elegance the King was expected to exude at all times was, perhaps, a glimpse of that playfulness that had once defined him. He could hardly deny that snickering that so left his lips at Dorian's less than nimble spill upon that crystalline ice, though he was very much aware the Monarch hardly seemed wholly displeased with this discovery of the slippery terrain underfoot. It was with relative ease of so many years spent enjoying this simple activity that saw Sebastian glide forward, stopping before his lover as he leaned down, commenting against this so called 'humiliation' with a hint of a challenge in his tone, entertained though it was. That chuckled retort was hardly expected by the vampire, a simper so crossing his features before the man before his head bowed ever so slightly in defeat. "Touche, Ma Bichette."

Despite being so surprised by those words, Sebastian was hardly the type to so fail to rise to a challenge, particularly when it so included wordplay with the man he undoubtedly had so 'fallen' for, as Dorian had so put it. That very notion of Dorian sprawled ungracefully upon the ice had perhaps stirred thoughts of other places he'd so seen the King as sprawled out, though such memories often came with a more begging tone on the fae's lips. As his fingers so embraced Dorian's own, it was this very suggestion of how much he tended to enjoy this scene that so left his mouth. The vampire wholly enjoyed that glimpse of amusement that darted across the King's features at such a suggestion, knowing all too well the thoughts that he'd now subjected his lover to all the same as he lifted the man back upon those bladed shoes. Those words that so left Dorian's lips prompted that warm simper to return to his features, entirely pleased with this title of 'wretched thing' that he had acquired. He hardly commented further on those thoughts, however, instead allowing the King to find that balance on his own two feet with the support of that wall at his side.

He hardly moved far away from the King, however, before so attempting to teach the man the intricacies of skating in the best way he could. Teaching had never been particularly his forte beyond those physical activities, not that he'd terribly tried much to begin with. Still, he had faith in Dorian and his abilities as a 'student' of sort. He certainly managed to catch onto anything Sebastian had introduced him to with a ready ease and the vampire had little reason to believe that this would not follow in the same manner. He lingered still, at his lover's side, balancing with perfect care upon those skates as he watched that Italian man so eye his surroundings, clearly observing the actions of the other skaters that so moved around them as if they were parting the sea. Still, he remained relatively patient as Dorian so gained some sense of knowledge, and perhaps too courage enough to attempt a second time. The vampire himself skated backwards at that slight raise of Dorian's foot, watching with due diligence as the man glided forward but those mere inches. That sudden glee that so lit up the fae's features at achieving a glimpse of what this skating so entailed was hardly missed by the man, his own lips contorting into a grin that mirrored Dorian's own.

He was entirely content, in those moments that followed, to so orbit his lover in that slow progression as he made his way around the rink, getting used to that sensation of gliding upon that now riveted ice. There were times during particularly well worn patched when he remained behind the King, fully ready to catch him should another fall occur, and others in which he was content to merely skate backwards, ever careful to keep an eye on the man at the slightest indication that he might be needed. That near fall, for example, had been enough to so prompt the man to linger and yet, any help was waved off, his lover clearly quite determined to master this sport on his own, now that he had so grasped the basics of it. His gaze was given to wander on occasion, as it so often did, those individuals that so surrounded them occasionally catching his eye. People watching had, after all, taken up such a huge portion of his life that, even now, he found himself still instinctively picking out the ones easiest to take in any crowd he found himself within for any length of time. It was the sound of his name upon Dorian's lips that immediately pulled the vampire's attention back to his lover, those skates stopping quite abruptly as his blue eyes landed upon the King in the fashion Dorian so wished them to be.

He watched with a pleased simper as the fae so displayed those newfound skills to him . "You're getting better." The vampire commented, always willing to offer those words of encouragement, even though his lover hardly needed them. He was, after all, a headstrong creature in every facet of the word, always pushing himself forward once he'd felt he'd mastered whatever had momentarily preoccupied himself with. This, Sebastian was assured, would be no exception. Therefore, he was hardly surprised as the man's exclamation of his further attempts to so venture from that wall. Still, the Englishman was hardly one to argue this, instead his head bobbed ever so slightly, as he gestured briefly across that rink, as if to say 'after you'. He watched as Dorian so fearlessly pushed himself from the wall, gliding with a certain tenseness to his form across that ice and in the dead center of the rink. The vampire trailed behind his lover, simply watching as that inertia came to an gradual end, so requiring yet another push to keep himself moving. It was in those precious seconds in which the King so seemed to stumble and, nearly instantly, Sebastian was at his side, so remaining that steadfast pillar for his boyfriend to so rely on.

Nevertheless, Sebastian followed his companion to the other side of that ring, so seeing to it that he made it back to that wall and relative safety, not that there had truly been much danger to so begin with. That momentary venture towards the center, however, seemed to have made Dorian confident enough in his abilities to so risk skating beside him without the wall at all. The suggestion caused his eyebrow to raise skeptically and yet, he hardly felt the need to declare his lover not ready, after all, the worst that could happen was that the King fell. Sebastian himself had taken his own fair share of spills on that ice, and with each fall he'd too learned something from it...even if it sometimes took several of those falls for the lessons to sink in. His feet moved with that same rhythmic ease as he shifted around his lover's all too tense frame, settling at his side to allow the pair to make their way, slowly, around the ring the same as the rest of the ice skaters that so surrounded them. The sound of Dorian's voice drew his gaze towards the man and yet, those words left the vampire altogether speechless.

He knew he was a good lover between those sheets, he'd had years to so perfect that art but to be declared a good boyfriend? That was something else entirely. After everything that had occurred with his wife, he had utterly avoided any hint of any sort of relationship for over a hundred years, the vampire often simply leaving when individuals got too attached. He had been a terrible husband then, surely now had hardly changed things that much? Still, he kept such thoughts to himself, merely uttering softly in response, "Thank you." He hardly bothered inquiring why Dorian thought so highly of him in such regard, instead merely changing the topic altogether in the way he was so taught to do. "I have an idea, do you trust me?" He inquired, his voice holding a distinctly more playful touch to it as he held out his hand to his lover for the taking, clearly intending something of the more mischievous nature and, in turn, so effectively guiding such thoughts away from his status, or lack thereof, of this 'good boyfriend'.