Sebastian Ellington-Aragona

His Royal Highness, Prince of Italy

It had been nearly two years since the Englishman had been to a proper party. Those vigorous celebrations had been all but abandoned at the very beginning of his courtship of the fae Monarch. That supernatural metropolis they called home failed to attract the same degree of entertainment as some of the cities abroad. Barcelona, after all, had become infamous for its nightlife. This part of his life had been one Sebastian had been determined to share with his newly wedded husband, even if it was only once. After all, Dorian had never had the chance to see those celebrations the modern world was capable of putting on. It had been endearing, really, the way the King had so clutched to his arm for the first portion of the night. The sea of bodies had quite been overwhelming, clearly, and yet, it was nice, for once, to become lost in that ocean. Sebastian suspected that it had been the first time in a long time that Dorian was not regarded for those titles he held. For one night they were allowed to be just like everyone else, with the heavy thud of the music in the hearts and copious amount of liquor in their veins.

And oh how they had drunk! That bar had been free-flowing with liquor, the shelves a veritable rainbow of bottles and far more shots of alcohol than Sebastian could remember drinking. Somewhere, in the middle of the night, he'd lost count of the drinks they'd had, those inhibitions all but destroyed under the sway of that music. He had been able to tell that point when drunkenness had oven taken the fae King, his own body far more suited to that partygoer lifestyle he had once reveled in. It had required some level of diligence from the Englishman to ensure the pair returned safely to their hotel suite, much less getting his lover into that bed before the sun rose and stole what life he had from him. That death, however, had been quite near glorious, giving his body the chance to repair from the liquor he had so assaulted it with. The vampire hardly stirred until well into the evening, that genteel touch of Dorian's hand upon his arm brought some vague level of consciousness to the man, one that was altogether fleeting as Dorian's form nestled against him. He shifted ever so slightly, his arm draped over his husband before Sebastian fell back into that welcoming embrace of actual sleep, unnecessary though it was.

It was sometime later that the vampire finally stirred, his dark blue eyes fluttered open to the darkness of the room. It was unlike them to sleep so late, at least, the vampire more than capable of feeling the moon filling the horizon. Sebastian rolled over, just enough to glance at the neon numbers on the clock. They only had a few hours before their plane to Corsica was set to take off. A soft groan left his lips as he laid there, staring up at the ceiling. The worst of those hangover symptoms had dissipated from the vampire, leaving the man with but a dull headache and a hunger for the blood to replaced all his body had utilized in undoing the effects of his drinking. He could only imagine how Dorian must feel, particularly considering how utterly inebriated his husband had been the night before. Slowly, the vampire rolled back towards that sleeping figure of the Italian Monarch, the simple sight of the King coaxed a small simper upon his features as he reached out for his lover, his thumb gingerly brushed against his husband's cheek. "Dorian..." He muttered softly, "We should probably get up, Ma Bichette." He watched as those silver irises fluttered open, only to stare at him with an almost blank stare, as if he was trying to fight through the sluggishness that their previous evening had beset him with.

A soft chuckle left his lips at the King's assurance that it was far too early to be awake, the vampire's own state of wakefulness quite near evidence of the opposite. "Love, it's nearly eleven." He answered and yet, the very knowledge of that time hardly seemed to affect the fae as Dorian rolled over and onto Sebastian's chest. That small grin only seemed to widen at that moment. How tempting it was to simply let Dorian remain settled against him. How glorious it would be to spend the whole day in bed! They had been foolish, really, to think the day after such a festival might be best spent traveling. His hand rose, his fingers gingerly toying with those brunette locks. "We have to pack an get ready for our trip to Corsica. They're expecting us, remember?" Sebastian inquired, watching as his lover's eyes opened yet again, those silver eyes briefly met the navy hue of the vampire's own. He hardly expected that query of how they had gotten home the previous night. Much, he suspected, of the later parts of their evening were likely fuzzy for the King. "We walked, dear." He answered simply. The party had not been terribly far from that grandiose hotel, a few blocks at most and certainly close enough that Sebastian hadn't been terribly worried about getting them back that short distance.

He watched as Dorian shifted, the King's gaze turned towards that hotel room in but a brief survey of the place only to turn his attention towards their rather undressed figures nestled between those blankets. That secondary question prompted yet another chuckle from the vampire before he shook his head, assured that the King of Italy losing his clothing would have surely made the morning paper. "No, I took great pleasure in stripping you of it....until you fell asleep on me." He admitted and yet that grin hardly tarried even despite the very state his lover had been in the night prior. He listened to that sudden groan that echoed upon Dorian's lips before the King's head fell back on the cool planes of the vampire's chest. Sebastian's arm gingerly embraced the King, hardly having the heart to move the man as he traced patterns upon his skin. For several moments, the vampire allowed that almost tranquil silence to fill the quiet room, at least, until Dorian's head rose to eye him with a measure of suspicion all over again. Sebastian's eyebrow rose in minor inquisitiveness before that final question was quite near demanded of him.

"It is one of the few perks of being a vampire, I fear. Very little hangover, just....hunger." The vampire admitted, altogether certain that Dorian would surely pick up on that gnawing sensation that clawed at the vampire soon enough as it was. He watched as Dorian seemed to consider that information, only to reach up and attempt to rub that sleep from his eyes before flopping back down in an almost melodramatic fashion. The sheer theatricality of that action prompted that smile on his lips all over again. Dorian's assurance that he never allowed to drink to such an extent ever again was hardly answered, the vampire assured there would be a repeat of tonight sometime in the infinite years that laid before him. It was, however, that arm flopped across his face that caused his nose to wrinkle. "I'm certain it is the fastest way for me to feel your hangover." He complained, reaching for the King's arm to playfully shove it, and that scent of blood, away from him, even if that action was half-hearted as it was. Sebastian was fully aware of that impish look to his lover's features, that very glance on he knew well before the King's lips brushed against his chest, moving upwards towards his collarbone. A soft sound reverberated in the back of his throat before Dorian shifted upwards, just enough for their lips to meet in an altogether fleeting kiss.

A small grin danced upon his features as Dorian pulled away, just enough to announce he felt only slightly better. Sebastian reached up for the King, pulling his husband back down against him as his lips so eagerly met Dorian's all over again. He shifted beneath his lover, careful and slowly rolling the pair till the King's back was against the mattress. It was after a moment longer that Sebastian broke that kiss, those dark blue eyes holding an impishness to them as he glanced down at his lover. "You know, I've heard sex is a wonderful way to cure your symptoms." He commented was an almost suggestive glance, only to lean down and steal one more of those sweet kisses. "But...since we have to fly..." Sebastian's voice trailed off with a hint of regret before the vampire reached towards that nightstand and the phone upon it. His finger moved deftly across that keypad. "Servicio de recamara, por favor." (Room service, please.) He uttered to the concierge, glancing down at the King before that voice on the other end responded. That Butler on the other end of the line seemed fully prepared to fulfill their every whim, even if it included breakfast at midnight. "Sí, me gustaría obtener una orden de huevos más fácil con pan tostado, una taza de té, jugo de manzana ... café, ¿tienes ibuprofeno?" (Yes, I'd like to get an order of eggs over easy with toast, a cup of tea, apple juice...coffee, do you have any Ibuprofen?). A small sound of confirmation left the Prince's lips as he listened to that answer, the Englishman assured that food would be delivered soon. That phone was placed back on the receiver a moment later before Sebastian turned his attention back towards Dorian. "You'll feel better after you eat something." He promised his lover, the vampire momentarily willing to take the far more responsible route for dealing with that hangover than he had originally suggested.