you were the answer to my dreams

It was a rather distinct noise that drew the vampire from the depths of that death that so harshly tugged at him. He knew, instinctively, that the sun had set and yet, there was something wholly comforting of that noise, even if his own sleep laden brain had yet to place the origins of that sound. A soft sigh of contentment left his lips as he shifted further into those sheets. He was fairly certain Elizabeth had yet to draw that bath, the scent of Charles equally as absent, enough so to inform the man there was still time to sleep. He hardly shifted even at that sound of bare feet padding again the carpet, that moving of fabric equally as ignored until the Englishman felt the bed shift ever so slightly. A soft sound left his lips as that warmth of his fiancé's body embraced him, the vampire's arms easily pulled the man against him in turn, even if his tired mind had yet to notice that absence of fabric between the full length of their figures. All that mattered to him in that moment was that heat of Dorian's body and the Italian Monarch nestled within his arms. It was moments such as these that truly made his life worth living, as sentimental such a thought surely was.

That press of Dorian's lips against his cheek brought another soft sound from his lips, his head shifting away ever so slightly as if that alone would be enough to tell his lover to return to sleep. Those kisses, however, were near relentless in their assault, trailing down his neck in that fashion that he so adored. That half-asleep state certainly contributed to the reaction that simple gesture was able to coax from the vampire. Those more intimate areas of the man pressing softly against his fiancé's figure, only to discover that instead of meeting the silken touch of those undergarments, he found but the fae King's bare flesh. That simple realization, compounded with that near singsong drawing out of his own name caused those long eyelashes to flutter open, those dark blue eyes glancing up and towards the man he so adored. His eyes brushed over that askew hair only to meet those same entrancing silver eyes. A small simper crossed his features in return to that near radiant beam on Dorian's own as his lover shifted within his grasp to settle upon his stomach.

That inquiry of the day caused his nose to wrinkle ever so slightly only for a yawn to cross his lips in the wake of that rise from sleep. "I think it's a Thursday." He commented, that English accent certainly heavy in those moments of lethargy. He knew well that Dorian was hardly commenting on the day of the week. No, he knew well exactly what today was, even if Sebastian was far more keen to simply forget it. He knew his distaste of this very day was borderline absurd, particularly after nearly two hundred years and yet, there were somethings the man had a particularly hard time forgiving himself of, even after centuries had past. It was that transformation into death that had so marred that once special day. His own murder had been so close to his birthday, that changing still so fresh and new, that a day that should have been spent in happy celebration had been little more than a murderous bloodbath in an effort to sedate that unquenchable thirst. It was a memory that had forever haunted him on this very day, prompting the man to near refuse to have any great celebration out of respect for all the lives he himself had taken. Maintaining that distinctly somber view of this very day, however, when Dorian had been so joyous to spend this first birthday with him had been...notably difficult, resulting in some sort of half compromise.

Those three words prompted a mere weak simper from the man, even as he uttered all the same, "Thank you." His lips ever so gingerly brushed against his lover's own as the King's hands ran through those brunette locks. His own body shifted ever so slightly, just enough to allow the man to run his fingers slowly down the fae King's side. He hardly stopped his fiancé from deepening that kiss, his fingers traveling lower and lower still with each passing moment only to find that very absence of that waist band - confirming those suspicions all along. How Dorian so had a way of tempting him! He regretted that moment, as the Monarch pulled away from him, only to settle upon that pillow. The Englishman turned onto his side to face the fae, hardly surprised that Dorian had gone out of his way to be free this particular evening. That mention of presents only saw his nose wrinkle ever so slightly once more and yet, he found himself almost hesitating to answer of which he might care to see. He would accept them, naturally, being from Dorian even if doing so went so staunchly against his anti-birthday demeanor.

Before he could answer, however, a rather peculiar sound drew his navy eyes towards the window, his eyebrows furrowing ever so slightly. "Is it...raining?" He inquired in a baffled fashion. It was altogether rare for there to be rain on his birthday. It was often too cold for such a phenomenon to happen, prompting that precipitation to turn into snow. Sebastian hardly disliked snow in the slightest, quite on the contrary, it was almost magical and yet, there was something about that sound of rain that reminded him of home. His gaze slowly turned back to his lover, "I....suppose the small one." He conceded, wholly unaware of exactly what the fae King had in store for him, even if his attention was continually distracted by the sound of that falling water.

Sebastian Ellington