There was little doubt within the vampire's mind that there was far more to the tale of those substantial ebony blades. The King's admittance that he certainly didn't enjoy the memories associated with those moments of their prior use, moments when he viewed himself out of viable options, so very much hinted to the no-doubtedly painful past he had so experienced within, what Sebastian could only assume, was his early life all those centuries ago. Some recollections, he knew, failed to loose any sort of potency, no matter how much time might ebb and flow and pass before their infinite lives. That memory that so afflicted the Monarch at the presence of those blades surely one such detrimental moment within that past. The vampire, though not keen to inquire after that history, was, however, entirely earnest in making an effort to at least attempt to soften that blight associated with that affinity, declaring that power to be utterly brilliant all the same. That slip of those old British phrases was scarcely noticed by the man, that age old speech and slang were very much a part of who he was. In fact, it often took far more effort to remove them from his vocabulary then it did to simply let them continue to invade his speech patterns.

The sharpness of that blade, however, paled in comparison to the simple scent of his lover's blood, even despite that singular drop that rested upon the pad of his finger. That knife was wholly forgotten as he slipped that finger into his mouth, his tongue running salaciously along the man's flesh, his own thoughts having already shifted in that moment to those more carnal desires. It was habit really, a product of conditioning that his body seemed so eager to respond to the mere presence of that bodily substance, much less that it was being offered to him. After years of so engaging in such sexual activities all for the sake of that life giving substance, he simply found himself reacting in ways even he hardly acknowledged. After all, it had been several days without the King's company and, there was little doubt within Sebastian's mind, Dorian himself was utterly breathtaking in every fashion. How the vampire had wound up with such a distinctly lucky catch who was willing to save himself for him alone, even he couldn't wholly discern.

It was, perhaps, not terribly surprising that, in the aftermath of that singular gesture of those more intimate thoughts, the vampire was all too willing to linger within that very bed that was so often barred to him and yet, any further continuation he might have made to see their evening spent between the sheets was interrupted by a singular memory of something that had caught his lover's attention. That book he was presented with but moments later was, in and of itself, not a terribly surprising thing, being gifted of the man who could so see the future as clear as day. That sheet of paper within, however, was far more treasured to the vampire, if only for the simple fact that it was his mother, surely, that had so studiously poured over each and every name on that list before, finally, deciding upon his own. There were few objects of her that he truly had within the world, this one certainly would have been treasured, shown simply by his fingers trailing over that centuries old ink. It was, however, in the wake of that simple book that the Englishman so finally saw fit to mention that gift he'd been so fretting over for several weeks now, after all, this would surely move their relationship ever closer to so fulfilling that vision Matteo had so foreseen.

Nevertheless, his long, slender fingers plucked that seemingly insignificant ebony box from the back of his pocket, presenting it to the overly inquisitive fae. There was something distinctly boyish about the fashion in which Dorian so seemed to regard the simplest of gifts as if some great treasure trove. This one certainly regarded with that same level of enthusiasm he had some come to expect. The vampire leaned his head against his hands as he watched the lid of that box was ever so carefully removed, the keychain within plucked from that velveteen pillow only to be eyed with a clearly questioning glimpse. Those words of thanks, however, were regarded with a soft chuckle, and, in those moments afterwards, Sebastian was willing enough to explain exactly what it was Dorian held within his hand - the key to his home, and, in a manner of speaking, his heart as well (not that Dorian himself did not already hold that very thing within his hands).

That grin that so danced across Dorian's features hardly went unnoticed, much less the way in which it faltered at the vampire's suggestion that, perhaps, the Monarch might be inclined to stay. It was that sudden disappearance of that simper that so coaxed him to solider on with the sheer practicality of the offer he so presented his lover with, that concern surely growing steadily within him to so coax his heart to beat just a touch faster in a rare glimpse of nervousness. He had forgotten, truly, how utterly scandalous it might have once been to even suggest that which the vampire now placed within his lover's hands, the man instead moving forward as that more modern dating so dictated they should. This was but that final step prior to finding himself on one knee, a thought that even now still caused him to be afflicted with a whole new flutter of butterflies within his stomach, even more so with the silence Dorian presented him with.

His bright blue eyes met the striking silver irises of Dorian's own, those words finally leaving the King's lips and softly, Sebastian released a breath of relief he hadn't quite realized he'd been holding. A simper so fluttered across his features as the King so abruptly threw his arms around his neck, tossing the entire weight of his body against the vampire's own before their lips met with a newfound fervor. Sebastian was all too willing to fall back upon those sheets, holding the King against his chest. His own tongue brushed gingerly against his lover's lips, so encouraging Dorian to part them and, in turn, afford him that sort of deepened kiss they both so seemed to enjoy. His tongue was all to eager to brush against Dorian's own in those tender moments, the man relishing in that closeness he had been denied for several days - and to think that no longer would he find himself despondent over Dorian's absence! That notion alone decidedly delightful.

It was several moments later that Sebastian finally found himself pulling away ever so slightly, his head falling back upon those softened sheets as he regarded his lover with a glimpse of utter contentment. "Tomorrow, I think, we can see to moving your things...and we should...return the key to whomever owns it and see too any other repairs..." His voice trailed off in consideration of what the next evening would consist of to ensure his boyfriend was safe and comfortable within his own home, complete with those things he deemed worth salvaging from that room. It was decidedly reasonable of the man and yet, when there were affairs to be attended to, it was entirely plausible for the casanova to consider things beyond what occurred between the bedsheets, even if his lover's arousing physique often made such a thing decidedly difficult.