It is for not for the first time that Dorian has taken note that even the trees within this Kingdom seemed far different from the ones within his own country. Here, above the forested valley below, the Fae is afforded something of a view of the more natural side to the city that was so often concealed by concrete and buildings and roads- the park the only truly open space the city seemed to provide until now. His silvery gaze lingers upon those densely green trees, the vaguest sense of amusement stirring somewhere within him at that thought that, once, his tutor had so insisted he be able to name all major trees and plants of his native Italy. Ah, but how foolish such a task seemed when there was but a veritable world of greenery to name! So much so he would surely never remember it and in truth he hardly cared too. His eyes linger last upon that tumbling waterfall, reminding him readily of his own home once more and yet somehow this one was far more impressive to the man- perhaps for it's height or indeed the greenery that so surrounded it when compared to the manicured lawns of his own. His is aware of the vampire behind him and yet the manner in which Sebastian moves to embrace him so catches the Fae unaware. The arms that encircle his waist are hardly unwelcome however, Dorian delighting in even this moment of simple closeness as he presses easily back into his companion in an acceptance of the gesture. He hardly finds he cares for the gaze of the servants that surely rest upon them. Dorian so steadily becoming more.....accepting of this notion of public affection. Samantha having assured him such things were more accepted then they had once been. His head turns ever so slightly, words little more than a murmur to the vampire's ear as Sebastian rests upon his shoulder.

"Mhmm, this one seems to have much that mine does not."

It had hardly failed to occur to him that so much of the appeal of this was surely to do with who had shown it to him, Dorian entirely content to enjoy even this chaste moment before they move towards the table so provided for them. The Fae loath to have that lack of arms around him and yet his curiosity, too, for just what this restaurant might hold assures he is more than willing to be seated opposite his companion for now. Even the wine itself is given to so seize his attention as it is poured, the Fae King surely no stranger to such a drink and yet he is assured that this wine will be far from the one he had known these past centuries. His attention is pulled from it only at Sebastian's words that this was surely the least he could do, the smirk upon the man's features and those all-too teasing words seeing Dorian's own amusement flitter across his features as the softest of chuckles finds his lips.

"You are decidedly good at finding for me these 'firsts', so much so that I fear I am often inclined to want seconds."

There was, after all, not yet a single outing they had partaken off nor activity they had engaged in between the sheets or otherwise that Dorian would not do again if only for the delight it so seemed to bring him. His hand rests, briefly, upon the vampires own- the thanks he affords his companion wholly genuine in it's design. Sebastian, after all, perhaps so unaware that things such as this were so decidedly rare for the man. Even within the days before his confinement to his own palace the idea that he might go out was a nearly laughable notion. His Father had so feared assassination of either himself or his family that Dorian and his siblings were often desperately limited in just where they could go and with who. The leave the palace with less then an armoured guard was utterly unheard off- to achieve even a moment of privacy with a lover took a meticulous level of planning that was as exhausting as it often was strained. As such there is much about this that Dorian appreciates, surely far more than the vampire knew. That far more selfish side of the King so relishing in having his lover so entirely to himself.

The gifts with which he is presented however so readily seem to ignite his curiosity once more, his gaze lifted upward only so long as to assure himself he might be permitted to open such things here and now. The man relieved he should be allowed. His inquisitiveness in this, after all, would surely have become quite impossible to maintain were he to be denied it. His fingers move deftly to pull the paper from the first of the boxes, this a gift he most assuredly is given to recognise as his features ease into a grin of pleasure at the sight of it.

"Ah, magnifique!"

He held a ready fascination with the scent that so seemed to linger about his companion, indeed the Fae had very near come to anticipate that scent which so marked his lover and indeed often lingered upon his sheets long after the man had left. This idea that he might have his own so thoroughly pleasing to him. Those accented lyrics slipping so readily from his lips in an evident display of his delight with such a thing. His attention shifts then towards the far smaller box, fingers too plucking at the paper that so wrapped this gift before the Fae King peered within the box itself. He moves to gingerly lift the polished stone from amongst the black fabric, fingers tracing over the polished surface, the delicate wire that so seemed to encase it and too the fine golden chain that hung from it. His gaze lifts ever-so briefly at the man's words- the meaning he wishes to convey hardly lost upon the ancient Fae. It had been...centuries since anyone had bestowed such a thing upon him and even so the man could count upon a single hand the number of those who had. They feared his position, feared themselves inadequate to him and as such so feared his rejection that so precious few ever dared. Perhaps they were right to do so, after all, he never wore that which they gave him. It said too much, it meant to much to those whom Dorian had little intention of calling upon again. Yet in this he has little hesitation. Some things require truly little thought. The man moves to so easily slip the golden chain about his neck- this gesture alone an age-old notion of acceptance of this gesture of both affection and knowledge, in a sense- that Sebastian's home might always be open to him. His gaze at last lifts upward once more, the simper upon his features nothing short of glorious in this moment.

"This one we like the most."

He assures softly, leaning forward to so smoothly close that distance between them and across the small table, lips brushing softly against Sebastian's own once more in a fleeting, though delicate kiss before he leans back- fingers toying softly with the stone at his chest. Ah, how easily his emotions might be so stirred! It is another thought though, that so seems to afflict him in the moments that follow, a look of bemusement touching his features now.

"Bastien, if we are to have this food of your people- what is it that we are having?"

It had, it would seem, only just struck the King that they seemed to lack any food at all. Dorian decidedly used to the sort of feast in which every food was on display.

Dorian Aragona