There was little question that the enigma surrounding his lover's red undergarments certainly served to further the vampire's need to so win this little game, though truly, in the end, it hardly mattered all the same. Those activities that had been promised for afterwards would surely occur regardless of whether or not he won or loss. Still, it was perhaps a matter of pride and, indeed, of desire to boost that saw that rare glimpse of Sebastian's competitive nature flounder to the surface. Those numbers, however, were entirely uninclined to assist in his endeavor - until that rather lucky disc with his red number upon it so seemed to prompt a plethora of action. That chocolate pudding laced with blood was but nearly akin to a holy grail to the vampire, that prize furthered in it's glory only by the King's addition of his own blood. Sebastian was wholly content in those moments after, licking every ounce of chocolate and that glorious red substance from that bowl and, in the process, perhaps dirtying his finger in a fashion he likely never would have done in front of his lover - all for the sake of his perhaps two most favored things. It was only once that once chocolate bowl was nearly empty that the vampire glanced up at the sound of his name, the simple comment of what that number had provided for the King saw his features twitch into a glimpse more akin to a decidedly boyish pout.

Nevertheless, Sebastian complied, pulling those socks from his feet only to ball them up and, in turn, capitulate them towards the King in a fit of how utterly unfair the man's advances in this game were - even if the tantrum was but mock in it's entirety. The vampire hardly hesitated, however, before reaching into his bag to pull out another number, this one also proving to be entirely beneficial for the Englishman, so providing him with his first successfully compete row. Sebastian could hardly help the self-satisfied look upon his features as he requested the King's shirt, one hand held out to his lover in an entirely expectant fashion. He watched with decided want as Dorian rose, his fingers reaching up to undo each button upon that shirt. It was silly really, that something so simple as this might finally be the very thing to so arouse the vampire - that promise of their future intimacy and indeed the very notion of removing all of those articles of clothing prompted the Englishman's gaze to linger unabashedly upon his lover's flesh. It was certainly not the first time in which Sebastian's gaze fell upon his own family's crest, the colors resting so starkly against the fae's skin, and yet, its presence alone was still new enough that it still caused the corners of his lips to twitch upwards ever so softly in a simper.

It was only once the cloth of that button down shirt had been placed in his hand that he dropped his prize in his lap. He tore his gaze from his lover's chest only to place his hand into that velveteen bag, pulling the next number from it's depths only to repeat it outloud. That sound of delight that left his lover's lips immediately pulled his attention, his gaze falling upon the King's finger as it pressed that red square. He watched as Dorian read the back of that tile, the vampire no less attentive to how delighted the man seemed at that treat he was given and yet, that scent of alcohol became apparently clear to the man. His head tilted to the side as he eyed the clear color to the shotglass. It looked like that Balkan Vodka he'd once consumed, or perhaps that Sunset Rum? The high proof of it was certainly clear by scent alone and yet, there were rather few liquors in which Sebastian hadn't tried. After all, it was a perk of being dead. Liver damage was nigh impossible for him and hang overs? Easy to get rid of. Still, his eyebrows raised ever so slightly as Dorian so effortlessly tossed back that drink in a way that wholly fascinated him. It seemed as if his lover knew how to drink, at least, far more than he alluded too. It was almost to enough to produce just the beginnings of a notion of taking the King to experience one of those evenings his bachelor days so often consisted of - beautiful women and a copious amount of booze.

It was the King's voice that drew him from such idle contemplations as his lover handed him that nearly empty glass. His tongue gingerly caressed the bottom of the glass, simply tasting the liquor inquisitively. It was certainly...unique, and yet that sharp taste of alcohol mixed with that peculiar sweetness reminded him of but one other drink. "It reminds me a bit of Absinthe...though slightly...fruitier?" He commented in a contemplative fashion before handing that glass back to his lover, hardly bothering to comment on Dorian's clear like for the liquor. Instead, he watched as Dorian reached into the bag to take another number, this one only serving to thwart him as the King inquired after his shirt. A soft sigh left his lips as he reached up, his fingers toying with those buttons before pushing it over his shoulders and, in turn, the crumpled fabric was placed within his lover's hand. He was entirely aware of how dreadfully close he was to losing this game as he leaned back upon his hand, a small frown toying with his lips. He watched as Dorian reached back into the bag, hoping against hope that the number within the man's hand was not the one needed for the King to so complete the game.

He was lucky that the next draw afforded him the opportunity to complete but another row. The feet he was presented with coaxed yet another grin to his lips as he so contemplatively stared at them for a moment, as if this decision somehow required great thought. Eventually, he chose the left one, pulling it from Dorian's foot only to reach into the bag himself. The next number produced yet another grin to the King's features, awarding him with but another "treat" and yet, the contents of this tile was certainly far more...enjoyable. A soft chuckle left the vampire's lips as he read that tile, tossing it back to his lover, "I'm sure you'll be using this later tonight." He commented softly, remembering all too well those numerous evenings in which the King had begged for him to continue that doting of attention. That next number Sebastian chose proved to be a dud for both of them, Dorian's next tile, however, seemed to make the man pause, his own eyebrows rose ever so slightly as Dorian declared it a "bad number". A small glance was given towards his own board, quickly acknowledging the only number that might prompt such a reaction from the King. "It's forty-five, isn't it?" He inquired immediately, his gaze dancing back upwards only for his lover as he reached out regardless of Dorian's attempt to hold the disk away from the man. He met that impish glimpse with a look of doubt, as if silently asking Dorian if he truly wanted to coax the vampire to 'catch' that number.

In those moments after, it wasn't truly the number he was after, the man instead moving with slow grace as he crept over those boards, careful not to disrupt them or the golden tray at his lover's side. Rather, quite abruptly, the vampire reached out to push Dorian down on the rug beneath him - the action entirely firm and yet with a certain level of gentleness, the man all too aware of what the damage his real strength could do. His lips nearly immediately found Dorian's own as one hand reached out to the King's free hand, his fingers entangling with in his lover's own as he pressed the man beneath him. His tongue pressed past his lover's lips as his other hand reached out, this time his hand reached out towards his lover's other hand, hoping the man was sufficiently distracted by lips upon lips and bare skin touching skin, his fingers delicately attempting to pry that disc from within Dorian's grasp in a fashion that, momentarily at least, seemed to suggest his intent was merely to fold his fingers within the King's own in the same way he had managed to do so before. It was only once he'd so managed to fetch that disk that Sebastian finally pulled away from his lover, glancing at that small disc in his hand. "I knew it was forty-five! Your jeans are mine." There was a mischievous look in his eyes as his gaze turned down to the King, his voice entirely gleeful with his triumph.