Alexander Macedonia

when I walk into the room there's nothing you can do
To stop me from making moves
I'm coming for you

How distinctly well Alexander knew his own 'son', even if that role he had taken up within Matteo's life was far more allegorical. That impish glimpse and lackadaisical rise to his shoulders gave way the answer to his query far sooner than any words might. Even so, that near vague response elicited little more than an unimpressed stare from the age-old King. He had known, one day, that teleportation would fail the fae, even if Matteo had all but refuted it. His Oracle had become...softer then those decades they had spent at war...though Alexander, in turn, had perhaps allowed it with his own listlessness in the past century. The Dark Hunter said remarkably little in way of response, the pair of them entirely aware he hardly had to with his point made over and over again. Rather, it was the world at large and their blatant state of undress that weighed heavily upon the mind of the Macedonian King. Though Alexander was hardly self-conscious of his overtly fit figure, the Monarch was...uninclined to be eyed as little more than a piece of steak, those catcalls and shouts given in their direction an annoyance that he merely tolerated at best. Dignity, it seemed, was forever the royal's downfall.

It was, perhaps, fortunate that Matteo had spied some level of garment left unattended for their taking, even if it was hardly what Alexander might deep acceptable to wear. It was, at the very least...something. It was only once the pair had donned those hideously bright orange vests that they begun that impossibly long walk towards the North, his feet hardly used to such long periods on pavement, the end result leaving the Dark Hunter perhaps more irritable and uncomfortable than he had ever been before, regardless of those marches he'd once made across endless deserts and vast plains. He said distinctly little of it, however, knowing well Matteo would be incapable of stopping himself from indulging in an incessant bout of teasing. Such contemplations, after all, were readily forgotten the moment they arrived at the driveway of the mansion that had been their destination - the differences between this life and the one they knew were hardly subtle here. Quite the contrary, the discrepancies near screamed with every glance upon the mansion's grounds. Gone was the high brick fencing and the sleek black gates. Gone were the gardens overflowing with life. Gone was the fountain happily bubbling. This mansion was near akin to a ghost in comparison to the one they knew so well.

Alexander was painfully aware of that hint of apprehension within the Frenchman's features, even if the fae made every effort to hide those lingering thoughts. It was hardly a concern for Dorian that finally prompted Matteo to speak, however, and instead the idea that they might yet encounter themselves - a prospect that Alexander himself had already considered and quickly concluded it was simply best not to. He was hardly surprised that his conclusion failed to put the fae at ease, after all, it would hardly help them if they quite literally ran into one another face to face upon entering that home, and yet...what other choice did they have? Matteo reached for the doorknob, the fae opening it only for the pair of men to slip into the bright but silent home. It was...unusual...the quietness that usually filled the bustling mansion. If not for the dogs his godson kept, the staff at least could be seen coming and going about their daily tasks. This was...a far cry from what even Alexander had expected.

The oceanic hue of his irises took in the unusual home decor, every hint of that happy family...of Dorian as a whole seemed to be...strikingly missing. Matteo's voice seemed to echo in the depths of that silence, and yet, so too did it bring the sound of someone - someone who most certainly had not been expecting them. In fact, the vampire had been rather certain his wife would be out for the greater part of the evening, she being the only individual he had anticipated returning to his home. It was the unexpected sound of a voice in his living room that had drawn Sebastian away from that blissful, uninterrupted enjoyment of his violin. The very last thing he expected, as he stepped into the Great Room, was to find it occupied by two complete strangers. His brow rose inquisitively and yet, his mere presence seemed to prompt a clear hint of apprehension within the two men, one muttering a name equally as foreign to him. What on earth was a Dark-Hunter doing in his home? Much less....whatever his companion was.

The sapphire blue of his irises remained steadfast upon the two as the curious one took a step back, the very action earning the man the weight of those dark eyes. He was....particularly handsome, the very sort of man Sebastian would enjoy and with his wife's absence...perhaps fortune was smiling upon him. That was...of course...presuming the Dark Hunter was...less of a problem. His gaze slid towards the blonde Hunter with the same near judging weight, taking in the man's figure with equal contemplativeness as he inquired just who the two men were who merely meandered into his home off the streets. That answer he was given, however, hardly satisfied him. "You are my...?" He inquired, hardly willing to let that slip of the tongue go. Still...it would be a shame if his pressing prompted them to depart before he was ready for them to. Effortlessly, the vampire reached out for his affinity, that magic jumping to his beck and call as his affinity so slammed into both men, those chemical signatures altering at his whim to fill them with that lust the Incubus was more than capable of creating.

He watched as both of their eyes seemed to snap towards him, the vampire equally aware of their sudden, intense, inspection of his own body, beneath those well-tailored clothes. Still...there was something...different about these two, something that caused that usual faint smug grin to falter. He could feel them fighting him. The corner of his features tilted downwards in a small frown as the Hunter inquired after someone named 'Dorian'. His victims did not ask him questions, at least, beyond the usual inquiries of weather or not they might enjoy his company. Whomever they are...the pair were surely...ancient to withstand that very lust that Sebastian had used before to bring most men to their knees, quite literally. Regardless of those internal thoughts, the Englishman saw little reason not to offer that answer, though his denial of any 'Dorian' only seemed to prompt the insistence that they merely had yet to meet. That very mutterance prompted a rise of his brow, though Sebastian hardly paid any attention to the reaction the Dark Hunter might have to such knowledge. Rather, he stepped closer towards the Frenchman, his nose twitching ever so slightly.

God, he could smell the blood flowing through his veins! The very sweet potency of it called to the vampire, prompting that soft, almost breathy admittance of just how good the man smelled. That very utterance earned him the weight of those entrancing silver irises, the Incubus well aware of those idle considerations that so surely crossed the man's mind, with the way those sterling eyes so seemed to watch him. Oh, the pleasure Sebastian could bring him. His tongue shifted near habitually towards those sharpened canines as Sebastian stepped closer, the Englishman's actions halted only by that near warning word upon the Hunter's lips - one that drew the Frenchman's thoughts away from the path the vampire so wished them to travel. A soft breath left his lips as the navy of his gaze shifted towards the Dark Hunter, he was beginning to be...troublesome. That slight shift of the Frenchman drew Sebastian's gaze back towards the fellow, the vampire entirely aware of the view he was afforded. How he might like to run his hands down those chiseled plains of the fellow's chest! His gaze drew lower still as the man's hands found his pockets, the gesture pulling down those loose fitting jeans ever just so and naturally, the Incubus' eyes followed that lines of the Frenchman's physique further down and towards his groin.

It was the sound of that accented voice that drew Sebastian's gaze upward, that comment of the man's species prompted an almost inquisitive raise of his brow. Fae...of course. Slowly, his head bobbed ever so slightly, "Once...a long time ago." Sebastian admitted and yet, that fae had hardly smelled...this good, either! The Englishman chose not to point that out, however, the navy of his gaze entirely focused upon the fae before him as the stranger stepped closer towards him in exactly the manner he anticipated. He was entirely aware of those teeth gingerly nibbling at the fae's lower lip - those very lips were so perfectly kissable. The vibrant blue of his gaze briefly met those striking silver eyes before the Frenchman finally offered his name. It was the mention of Matteos' 'bodyguard', however, that drew the weight of his blue irises back towards the Hunter. Alexander had taken several steps closer towards them, the man's blue-green gaze entirely steadfast upon them, watching their every movement with an intensity that Sebastian was strikingly used to. "No, I should hope not to be." Sebastian answered and yet, he was still unaware of exactly what the two men desired to be within his home in the first place.

His brows furrowed ever so slightly as the fae's gaze turned away from him and towards the living room Alexander stood within. Matteo should have hardly been able to do that, much less simply move away from the Incubus at all! It was strikingly clear that it would take more effort than usual to achieve his goals. Even so, Sebastian was entirely unwilling to release the Hunter within his grasp. If the two, he was surely the larger threat to the vampire's own life. Regardless of those thoughts that shifted through Sebastian's mind, the vampire maintained some air of politeness as he nodded, gesturing slightly towards the sofas within the Great Room. "No, I do not. It is this Dorian you are looking for?" He inquired as he led the way further into the room, the Englishman settling upon the sofa, only to gesture towards the armchair beside him. "Please, do sit." He commented towards Alexander, the Macedonia King momentarily eying the chair with a hint of mild annoyance before, eventually, settling within it, that very proximity to the vampire had hardly gone unnoticed by Alexander. On the contrary, he found himself... struggling to look anywhere but his godson's husband. "Yes, it is." The Hunter answered, watching as Sebastian's shoulder's lifted in a vague shrug. "As I said, I am not familiar with a Dorian."