Sebastian Ellington-Aragona

His Royal Highness, Prince of Italy

That very assertion that the pair of men would have made terrible farmers prompted a small glimpse of amusement upon the Englishman's features. It was, admittedly, quite the conundrum. His own vampiric state quite restricted those hours in which he would have been able to labor at his lover's side in such a peculiar fantasy. That is unless he was still given the chance to keep that mortal body. His own mortality would have surely caught up with them in due time, in such an instance, and yet, it was not only that which lingered upon his mind but also the simple realization of how little Dorian knew of those two hundred years he had spent simply wandering the world with little rhyme or reason. His lover knew him as the refined Lord of Belton, as Baron Brownlow, a member of the Queen's Council, and the Lord-In-Waiting to King Edward VIII. The Italian King was ignorant of those peculiar moments in time in which Sebastian had stepped away from that role and those formal social graces. He didn't know of that time he'd spent in La Rioja with his hands in that very dirt Dorian disdained learning of the proper grapes to make the fullest wine whilst he attempted to woo the vineyard owner's daughter. Dorian didn't know of the month he spent in Turkey baking Baklava over and over when the owner of the Turkish bakery intrigued him. Or of Finland with the girl who declared her soul was meant to fly or sailing in Malta, skiing in Canada, or those months spent upon Mexico's beaches. Those very experiences left him particularly cultured, his incubus nature forced him to pick up those unexpected skills. Farming in the dirt was certainly not the worst he'd ever done. For Dorian alone he might consent to such a role, even if his own era offered them a far better life.

It was that very consideration of all he would have surely given for his husband, royalty or not, that prompted those teasing words to his lips, adoring though they were. A warm simper crossed his features at Dorian's insistence that he would not forget the speculation within his words. And yet, how he cherished that sound of his lover's chuckle as Dorian shifted to close the space between them. His husband's lips pressed ever so sweetly against his own, that kiss altogether tender and loving - and ultimately interrupted by a wet tongue against his cheek and hot puppy breath against his skin. Sebastian could hardly help the way his features crinkled ever so slightly at Prescott's unexpected affection. The little dog, for all it's adorableness, was terribly in the way of the attention he wished to show the Italian King. Thankfully, he was hardly alone in such a consideration as Dorian suggested they find a comfortable place for the newest member of their household to sleep. A small frown etched across his features as he considered what furniture within the room could be utilized only to approaching that burning hearth and the sofa that stood in front of it. The Prince plucked a single cushion from the back of the sofa, tossing it on the floor. His crystalline blue eyes turned towards his husband, clearly waiting for some word of approval or disagreement with his rather obvious intent.

The King's declaration that such a makeshift bed was passable prompted Sebastian's insistence that he had little to work within the room that wouldn't take a substantial amount of time within the first place - time which, he was sure, was better spent on other things. The vampire watched as his lover moved to join him before the fireplace, depositing the puppy onto that soft surface. For a moment, the canine seemed almost puzzled that he had been put down, only for his jaws to part in a clear yawn, those several circles made before Prescott flopped unceremoniously on the cushion. A small shrug crossed Sebastian's shoulders as he eyed the canine and his husband. They were, surely, soon to come into possession of a whole plethora of items for the dog, once they returned to the metropolis that had become their 'home'. Sebastian's gaze turned upwards from the pair as Dorian moved to stand, presenting the room with an almost critical gaze. After an evening of traveling and the introduction with the foreign dignitaries, Sebastian was, admittedly, rather glad that the couple had some time to themselves. He was wholly selfish in this. After all, he had enjoyed the entirety of Dorian's attention for the length of their honeymoon. A part of him almost dreaded returning to Italy, much less Sacrosanct.

That sudden announcement that he should sit on the sofa prompted ready compliance from the vampire, particularly at the mention of his lover's 'idea'. It was those very words that he found himself yearning to hear, even as he reminded the King of his eagerness each and every time in the past that he had embraced those very notions the Monarch had bestowed upon him. He settled upon that sofa and yet, his attention hardly deviated from his lover, even as Dorian began to shift through the luggage further in the room behind him. He heard the sound of the zippers, causing him to turn upon the sofa to better see what his husband was searching for. Sebastian's eyebrows rose ever so slightly as Dorian plucked the iPad from the depths of the bag, his attention clearly focused upon the screen as his fingers moved with careful attention. It was several moments before the sound of music filled the room, and though they had certainly not made love to the sound of his own affinity before, Sebastian was certainly not against the notion. Quizzically, his bright blue eyes lingered upon his husband as Dorian made his way back towards the mantle place, the iPad placed with care to balance on the ledge above the crackling fire.

That sudden disappearance of the fae King hardly prompted even a shred of worry within him, the vampire more than capable of tracking the Monarch's movements in more than one fashion. His head tilted back ever so slightly as Dorian moved around the sofa, only to feel his husband's lips against his cheek with a sweet promise to make up for all Sebastian had recently been denied. The very thought of that promise prompted that distinct edge to his baritone voice, just as Dorian's hands reached around his neck, loosening his tie with practiced ease. He was well aware of the King's fingers on the top button of his shirt, just as Dorian's lips found the soft flesh of his eternally sensitive neck. The butterfly kisses brought a soft groan to his lip, the sound clearly quite the reward Dorian seemed to seek before the Monarch moved away, stepping around the sofa to settle in front of him. He was, admittedly, rather surprised as Dorian's hips found the beat to that music. Although he knew well his lover had surely attended his own fair share of balls and dances, he certainly hadn't seen the King enjoy those more modern songs. His head cocked to the side as Dorian's fingers reached upwards towards his tie, the jacket of his suit following quickly after. The very realization of exactly what he was being treated to struck him quite quickly. The vampire quite ready embraced this idea, his cheek rested against his knucks as he leaned back into the sofa, entirely content to simply watch the show in front of him with acute intensity.

His gaze trailed with Dorian's hands down the King's chest, those refined muscles beneath revealed with such tantalizing slowness before Dorian pivoted in place, providing him a glimpse of his husband's behind. A small simper toyed with the corner of his features and yet, the swaying of his hips certainly served to tease his own thoughts. He watched as Dorian turned again, his dress shirt hanging loosely from his figure. The sudden shifting of the King's arms as Dorian's hands ran through his hair only furthered that glimpse he was given of that chest he so enjoyed touching. He was, admittedly, hardly attentive to that song, even though he knew it well. Rather, his teeth ran lightly over his lip, clearly indicating those wants that had begun to stir within his loins. He watched astutely as Dorian's hands brushed against his sides, his fingers hooking into the belt loops of his pants. Dorian's comment upon how much of a shame it was he was settled on the sofa only prompted almost eager encouragement from the vampire. After all, he was rather certain the show was not quite yet over. His gaze fluttered briefly upwards towards the teasing simper upon the King's lips. That very comment to see just how well he remained upon that surely promised a sight worth beholding.

His gaze turned back towards those pants as Dorian's hips swayed tantalizingly to the beat of the music, those pants inching downward with ever swaying motion. That sudden turn provided him a wholly different view, the downward continuation of those pants rewarded him with the sight of his lover's behind, that smooth porcelain flesh surely just requesting to be touched and yet, before those boxers could come off entirely, the music shifted again, his lover so easily turning as if striving to match that song. A soft breath left his lips at that sight he was denied. Though Sebastian was particularly talented at producing pleasure, Dorian was the master of teasing. Another sway of his hips seemed to be all that was necessary for those dress pants to fall from their precarious perch on his hips, sliding easily to the floor with the rest of his lover's clothing. He eyed that loose shirt and bright crimson boxers the King was left standing in. He was almost surprised as Dorian shifted to lean back against the hearth of the fireplace, that song continuing on without that dance he had moments ago been given. It hardly mattered, however, Dorian was still quite the sight to behold in the soft glow of those flickering flames, the very light affording his skin an almost exotic look. That very lackadaisical pose he took up had a habit of reminding the vampire of Dorian's father, the man eternally seeming to take up a similar posture, he said nothing of the thought, however. The consideration was wholly fleeting, after all, as Dorian's fingers grazed against his thigh.

His lips parted ever so slightly as Dorian's hand trailed ever closer towards his groin, only to stroke the very length of himself. A soft breath left Sebastian's lips as he watched the Monarch's body so eagerly react to those genteel caresses his husband afforded himself, and the view Sebastian was granted in return. His own dress pants were quickly becoming uncomfortably restrictive in the wake of that sight. There was something distinctly pleasing at observing his lover come undone at his own hand, it was, he was certain, his favorite sort of show to watch, even though he hardly had the control to simply watch idly for very long. That very hitch to his lover's tone so threatened to undo him and yet, he was hardly given that sight for much longer before Dorian's hand moved towards the elastic waist of his boxers, slowly beginning to tug them downwards. The very sight of even the base of his lover's hard arousal so immediately drew all of his attention, the vampire entirely aware of the blood that rushed to his own groin. That final piece of material, however, suddenly stopped it's downward fall, only for the Monarch's voice to inquire over which article of clothing he should take off next, the assurance of what a shame it was finally prompted movement from the Englishman.

He rose swiftly from the sofa, closing that distance between himself and his husband. One hand reached for Dorian's neck as his lips pressed against his lover's in a fevered kiss. His other hand reached down, easily pushing off those already hardly on boxers only to embrace the Monarch's figure within his own hand. His touches were more akin to sweet caresses then the friction he was certain his lover desired and yet, he hardly wished to see the King finish before they even got started. It was almost cruel, really, to have so much of his lover visible before him without the ability to feel the King's skin against his own in the fashion he so usually desired and yet, his own need to touch the man after that very dance he was given overwhelmed such logical considerations as clothing. Gently he pulled away from that kiss, his baritone voice certainly filled with that husky desire as he murmured softly, "God if only you knew the things you do to me." His lips trailed downwards with purpose, those pointed fangs gently ran across his lover's neck in the fashion he knew Dorian seemed to near anticipate and yet, tonight, Sebastian had another plan of sorts. He could already feel that very venom at the ready. It was prepared to coat his saliva with the chemical concoction completely unique to him. Tonight, he was willing to allow his venom to fill his saliva, that taste of it wholly distinct and yet....an almost curious wondering had filled his mind in those moments as those fangs pulled away from Dorian's unblemished skin. After all, though that venom was quick to take hold when injected into the bloodstream, there were certainly other ways in which he could introduce his lover's body to those sensations. His lips all too quickly returned to the King's own his tongue gingerly reaching out with that soft request for Dorian's lips to part in those more intimate kisses, all the while those gentle, teasing caresses never once halted.