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

It had been a vain, foolish expectation that Dorian might still be within these halls, even in an alternate version of the reality he was so familiar with. Alexander had hoped that fate might persist even when he could rely upon nothing else. It was, he was quickly becoming to realize, a mistake. How precarious of a position they had placed themselves within - to fall beneath the sway of an incubus and yet, at that moment...how...completely aware Alexander was of the vampire. From the way that tailored suit fit those broad shoulders to the hint of muscles just beneath that fine layer of cotton. How Alexander found he wanted to see more of what the vampire had to order, that clothing surely just in the way of things. No sooner had that thought crossed his mind then the Hunter was once again struck in surprise by the sheer potency of Sebastian's power. How had they been so ignorant of what his godson's husband was capable of! The Englishman was nothing short of attentive to their conversation, catching those words Matteo had left unspoken. Unlike the man they were used to, this Sebastian was all too willing to press his father-in-law on what remained unsaid.

Sebastian, however, was hardly convinced by the fae's quick recovery. Friends, he was certain, had not been what the Frenchman had intended to say. His brow rose with a marked skepticism, the navy of his irises shifted from fae to hunter and back again. "Do you now?" The Englishman inquired rhetorically, intently watching the pair of men as if he might discern from appearance alone their motive for invading his home. It was that query of Dorian that drew the weight of his darkening gaze back towards the Dark Hunter. That name one he was wholly ignorant of, the vampire was more than willing to inform them both that he hardly knew this Dorian that had prompted their intrusion and yet...it was that very fact that he found most curious of all. Why had they thought he would know this man they were looking for? Why were they so insistent on their belief that he would meet him? How those thoughts tumbled within his astutely analytical mind, the vampire ill inclined to release either man from his metaphorical grasp until he had the very answers he sought, answers that he was certain they would give him before he was done with either of them.

It was with that steadfast purposefulness that Sebastian stepped forward, his nose scenting the air in an inquisitiveness he had otherwise denied himself from exploring. That very insistence that the man smelled utterly delicious hardly seemed to surprise the fellow in the slightest. In fact, he seemed to near anticipate it as he insisted that it was the result of what he was. It was that reveal that intrigued the vampire - a fae...how...rare they were. How fewer still had he ever tasted, the vampire only once indulging in that delectably sweet blood and even he had paled in comparison to the man who stood before him. The very memory so prompted Sebastian's tongue to shift to his sharpened canine in a habitual manner, one that spoke volumes of both that lust he wished to indulge in and too the blood that ran through the fairy's veins. The things he could do with the fellow before him...God, how tempting he was. He could feel those silver irises lingering upon him with what he could only assume was the same considerations as those which danced across his own mind - considerations of just how much he might enjoy fucking the fae.

It was that mutterance of a singular word from the Dark Hunter that seemed to break that spell, prompting a rare glimpse of annoyance from Sebastian, one that had hardly gone unnoticed by the Macedonian King that so fought against the steadfast hold of that allure. It was that slight shift of fae's hand that drew Sebastian's gaze, the Incubus altogether attentive of that slight shift of the neon orange vest, much less that view he was afforded of the fae's chiseled chest. How he might like to touch the fae, to run his hands down the hardened plains of that abdomen and lower still towards those intimate areas that were so teased with the slight lowering of those loose-fitting jeans. He watched as fellow stepped closer, the fae's teeth nibbling upon those oh too kissable lips. Those introductions, however, hardly served to fulfill Matteo's purpose, even if Sebastian afforded the Hunter little more then a small glance of acknowledgment. It was, however, Matteo's movements away from him, however, that so caught Sebastian's attention. That was a marked oddity, one that spoke volumes of how effective his affinities were. He had, it seemed, managed to at least spark that hint of lust within both men, though it was hardly to the extent he was used to. His brow furrowed ever so slightly as he contemplated the mere power needed to bring the fae to his knees and yet...there was still the matter of the Dark Hunter. Bodyguard or not, the foreigner was made to murder his kind - a fact that Sebastian was well aware of.

The Incubus said strikingly little of those observations, however, this a game he was more than willing to play, even as he gestured further into his home to insist they made themselves comfortable. His idle comment that he did not live alone, however, sharply seemed to garner both men's attention, that exchanged glance of concern certainly...curious. How did they know who he was without knowing about her? After all, the pair had existed in symbiosis with one another for well over a century. It was in a near predatory fashion that the vampire remained entirely aware of every minute detail of his prey, even as he settled upon the plush sofa of his Great Room, gesturing slightly to the chair beside him for the Hunter he trusted least. He watched that glimpse of irritation flutter across the Macedonian's features, followed by one more blatantly akin to indecision before, begrudgingly, the Hunter obliged, settling within the armchair at his side. It was only with the Hunter settled well within Sebastian's reach that the vampire so continued the conversation, inquiring once again over that individual they seemed to be searching for, one they seemed so certain that he knew. His insistence of that fact, however, was hardly one either man seemed to believe, a distinctly foreign language falling from the fae's lips. He recognized the language itself though Greek was one he had never learned, the vampiric couple never enticed by those white-washed cities on the oceanside.

What he was aware of, however, was that look of disapproval upon the Hunter's features, that distinct dubiousness blatant Alexander's tone and the raised brow that so accompanied it. "Pistéveis óti i moíra tha mas férei ton Ntórian?" (You think fate will bring Dorian to us?). It was, however, that sheer and sudden proximity of the fae to him that drew Sebastian's attention far more than those words he failed to understand. That almost genteel brush of the fae's fingers against his shoulder had hardly gone unnoticed by the Englishman. In fact, the now navy hue of his irises had turned attentive towards the fae, both the vampire and incubus within him so quickly drawn to the surface at Matteo's vague teasing. Truly, he was baffled on why the two men thought him capable of finding 'Dorian' for them, the very utterance prompting a soft sigh from Sebastian's lips. "What can you tell me of him?" He inquired after a moment, that soft pattern upon the shoulder of his suit altogether distracting. After all, Sebastian knew well what he desired and it was most certainly not discussing 'Dorian'.

His thoughts, however, were interrupted by the vague mention of his wife, the very inquiry prompted Sebastian to glance at the clock over the fireplace, the Englishman noting the still early hour and yet...he was not unaware of how...peculiar such a question was for two strangers who had broken into his home. His shoulders lifted in a vague shrug, "Who can say?" The vampire commented simply The soft touch of Matteo's warm fingers upon his skin near immediately brought his gaze back towards the fae as he leaned closer. Those bright silver eyes seemed....so entirely unwavering as they stared at him, that mention of Greece and Aphrodite certainly...appealing. His brow rose at that subtle innuendo and yet, as quickly as his interest was captured, so too did it wane. An audible snort left his nose as Sebastian leaned back against the sofa, his head shaking ever so slightly. "Ah, I think not. If I could help, I suspect that you would only tempt me with such a promise only to leave it unfulfilled." That bluff, it seemed, was on Sebastian was more than willing to call the pair out on and yet...how he so wanted that damn fae.

For a moment, the vampire was silent as he considered his options, his own affinity so gingerly probing at them both, testing those very waters of how much he could give and their reaction in turn. It was, it seemed, impossible for him to ensnare them both. Whomever they were...they were old and powerful by their own right. He had distinctly little choice in the matter and yet, Sebastian was certain he could at least hold the Dark Hunter at bay should it become necessary. A soft exhale left his lips, as he turned those navy irises back towards Matteo. "However...if you prove yourself worth my time...perhaps I will help you." He offered as an alternative, those words no sooner leaving his lips then his affinity finally shifted, the vampire releasing the Dark Hunter from his grasp only for those pheromones to fall with the entirety of his capabilities upon the fae. Sebastian wasted no time, however, the vampire forever forward in his desires as he leaned upwards, one hand slipping behind Matteo's neck. His lips pressed with a fervent passion against Matteo's own as he gingerly pulled the fae from his place on the arm of the sofa. Beneath the sway of those pheromones, it was all too easy to redirect the Frenchman in the way he so desired, Sebastian pulling him down onto his lap only to reposition the pair of men so that Matteo was pinned beneath him and against the length of the sofa.

The sudden absence of that affinity was, admittedly, quite striking for Alexander, that sudden need to be close to the Englishman, that desire to touch him, hell, even that ache within his lions had so abruptly vanished that it left even the Macedonian King momentarily stunned. That fog that once filled his mind with thoughts only of Sebastian had lifted to some sort of clarity and, yet again, he was surprised by the very extent at which the Incubus had so affected him. The blue-green of his irises slowly refocused upon his son, watching with a raised brow the exchange of those kisses that Sebastian so freely took, the Incubus' press of his groin against the Frenchman's own hardly missed by the Macedonian and yet...he had to admit Matteo's plan was...somewhat...effective. In some regards. The Dark Hunter reclined back into his chair with marked more ease as he commented with a clear hint of bemusement, "Thélete na vro roúcha í thélete na ton stamatíso na ftiáchno mazí sou?" (Do you want me to find clothes or do you want me to stop him from making out with you?)