Julian Blackwood (synapticstatic) wrote in nybynightic, @ 2020-12-15 22:22:00 |
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Entry tags: | activity type: log/thread, character: julian blackwood, character: micah lucciano |
As word of the Justicar’s impending arrival spread throughout the Kindred of the city, the more the gossip increased, the more the whispers talked, the easier it was to pluck the secrets many of the Kindred were trying to hide right out of their minds since they were foremost on their minds. Julian like any good Harpy he collected those secrets and gossip, processing what to keep for himself for later use, what to let slip that he knew so he could hint at possible future favors for his silence, and what would be useful to a certain Ventrue Primogen enough to pass on.
Then there were nights like the past couple nights where he had to retreat because the whispers pressing in on him were too much. It was pull back or possibly crack. And well, he was close enough to that without the added whispers considering he was still being haunted by things to come that he was struggling to figure out.
All of which had lead to the crazy whim of his that had resulted in the Christmas tree that now sat in Micah’s apartment. Lights had made it onto the tree but all the other boxes of things that had been bought still littered the place unopened. At one point, Julian had looked at the tree and almost ripped all the lights off in a rage as he realized that maybe what had seemed whimsical at first was actually going too far and Micah would change his mind and send him back to the apartment to stay.
In the end he had settled down and now just sat curled at one end of Micah’s couch, staring at the lights on the tree, seemingly entranced. Julian stared but was lost in his own mind, chasing through the cracks of it that slipped through his fingers like tinsel on a tree. That one voice always insisting. Focus, Julian.
Micah's penthouse was large, spacious. It was a place that he had spent no small amount of effort on--ensuring that it was a space he could comfortably spend time in. Tasteful, elegant and somewhat exorbitant furniture was a necessity, but there was also pockets of space and wide, high floor-length windows that lined the entire living area, drowning the place with the vibrant night lights of New York city.
And this was how Micah found Julian, sitting in the dark, his face illuminated by the myriad of colors--a mix of the christmas lights and the commercial buildings across the penthouse--lost in thought.
Arching a single eyebrow briefly, Micah took off his coat and hung it upon the rack by the door as he came in before wordlessly taking up the space beside Julian on the couch.
"Redecorating, again?" Though his tone held no hint of censure at all and instead sounded like they were merely discussing the weather.
At the sound of Micah’s voice, Julian shifted on the couch as he registered the other's presence there. It was as if until then he hadn’t even noticed his presence or arrival home. Considering how lost in his mind he had been, well he really hadn't.
Now though he looked at Micah with uncertain blue eyes before glancing back at the tree in question. "Do you hate it? Because I can take it down if you do." It was more than just the uncertainty in Julian’s eyes but in the way he held his body tensely as he waited to see what Micah's full reaction would be.
The uncertainty wasn't missed. But it was oddly endearing. Micah found himself lacking the usual exasperation that accompanied any sort of invasion into his personal freedoms.
"I don't hate it." Because Julian needed to hear those words, even if Micah didn't have strong feelings either way. He could recognise the need for reassurance and the spiral of self-doubt that could ensue if Micah allowed it to fester. He turned to look at Julian, that arch of his eyebrow appearing prominently. "Do you like it?"
Now that he had that reassurance that Micah wasn’t upset about the sudden Christmas evasion in his home, Julian relaxed and shifted on the couch so that he could lean back against Micah next to him as he looked back at the tree in question.
“I’m honestly not sure how I feel about it. I did it all on some whim to distract myself. Then I almost ripped it all down. Now—there is something oddly comforting about the lights.” Julian sighed and relaxed even more up against Micah’s side because as comforting as the lights may be, Micah’s presence was even more so as it always was and the Malakavian couldn’t help but seek it out.
“I’m not sure where the whim even came from. I can barely even remember the last time I celebrated Christmas.”
It was far longer that Micah had celebrated any type of Kine holiday, or that he had any reason to. When you were as ancient as the primogen was, dates bled into one another, marked only by the weight of responsibilities and duties and events he had to attend. There seemed little to celebrate. And right now, with the threat of the Justiciar's arrival looming, even lesser reason to.
"I don't mind it," Micah remarked, staring at the lights consideringly. "I've never had reason to mark this period of the year." Not since centuries ago when he left his mortal life behind. "But if you want to, I'm sure we can organise something."
“Most Kindred don’t,” Julian mused, thinking of the fact that while it seemed no matter what the city there was always some Halloween or Samhain party, there were never any other holidays celebrated. You certainly never heard of any Ventrue office Christmas parties, the very thought causing Julian to chuckle to himself. He certainly didn’t picture Micah having one of those at his office anytime soon.
Yet here he was offering to do just that for Julian. Here. For the two of them. It caused Julian to shift enough so that he could look up at the elder Kindred who kept surprising the younger one with the things he was willing to do for him. Things that he wasn’t used to anyone being willing to do for him. “You’d be willing to do that?” The corners of his mouth slowly turned upward.
Micah wasn't the sort of person who would put someone else's needs above his own. He had always been self-serving, fulfilling only his wants and desires. But he found Julian's delight now at the idea of a celebration simply for the two of them refreshing.
"As long as I don't have to do any of the planning." Because some lines had to be drawn somewhere. And Micah drew his at having to decide between caterers. He paused to give Julian a significant look, before settling back against the couch, his relaxed posture clearly indicating that he thought the matter settled.
Julian had to chuckle at that. “If it’s just the two of us then there’s no real planning to be done, Micah. I think I got more than enough stuff here,” he gestured over to the unopened boxes of ornaments and other things that had yet to be touched, “to take care of the decorating. I don’t think there’s much else we need.” Then his look turned mischievous, “Except for maybe you naked on Christmas Day with nothing but a Santa hat.”
That was for another day though.
He settled back against Micah and gazed at the lights once more. “I was worried it would be too much. Me being in your space and then me doing this without bringing it up first. Before…” He trailed off for a moment seeming to slip back into his own thoughts again before he spoke again. “I’m glad you didn’t insist that I just stay at the apartment full time. It would have been too much like—” There seemed little point in finishing the thought out loud when they both knew where it was headed.
Micah understood the things that Julian didn't say as much as the ones he did. He had a reputation for being non-tolerant towards his many paramours who tried without much success to carve themselves a spot in his life. None had succeeded, of course. But it never stopped them trying.
Yet with Julian, none of those rules seemed to apply.
"If I ever get tired of this, you can be sure that I will let you know." But even if words lacked warmth, his arm around Julian's waist was a sure indicator that the scenario he was talking about was in no risk of happening anytime soon. "I told you to feel comfortable here."
It probably helped that Julian never made demands. He never tried to carve a space for himself but instead accepted the space that he was given and allowed. Part of that was knowing that his being a Malkavian was more than enough to ask anyone to put up with. Yet the two of them had worked out a system that had Julian functioning better than he ever had even if he still, and always would, have his moments.
The rest of it was just Julian’s nature.
“I know. Just lingering insecurities from—before. It’s the main reason I continued to stay with the other Malks part of the time. To remind myself that I could.” Micah had told him he’d have his freedom, that he didn’t want to leash him, and he had made good on his word. “Ones that I’m realizing that I can let go of.”
He was learning. That much was evident. Micah was fully aware of the way Julian had lived before this. When he had been attached to Dorian and at the Ventrue’s every beck and call. Those who had started out as ghouls often led a similar existence. But the greatest thing about Dorian was the lack of trust in anyone—a quality that had saved his skin many times, no doubt, but in Julian it had backfired. The Malkavian was capable of so much more left to his own devices. The failure to recognise that had been Dorian’s worst and final mistake.
Micah ran his thumb along the line of Julian’s forearm, tracing the hard muscles there. “Just don’t exceed this level of lighting, I think.” He gave a soft, non-committal, almost thoughtful hum. “We are still creatures of the night after all.”
Jokes now, when he would have thrown people out of his place for far less.
First the smiles. Then the laughter. Now the jokes. Julian didn’t comment on the fact that Micah had just made a joke, just smirked instead as he said “so I guess I shouldn’t break out the other five boxes of lights I bought to string up around the place?” Five more boxes of lights that may or may not actually exist but only because Julian had been undecided on color choices when he had been ordering them.
While it would be some time for the younger Kindred to shed all of his insecurities, he had stopped doing one very important thing and that was asking Micah why. Julian was starting to finally figure it out on his own. It wasn’t just because of what Micah wanted. It was also because whether he was admitting it or not, the Malkavian was getting under his skin and Julian didn’t need his Malk senses to tell him that was something very few managed to do.
Julian was still smirking when he turned his head so that he could capture Micah’s mouth in a kiss, drawing it out to savor the taste of the older Kindred on his lips and tongue.
A kiss that Micah readily returned with no hesitation. "Maybe leave that for the next year."
A small concession, the slightest of admission, to Julian or to himself, but it was there--voiced aloud--a tacit agreement that the next year, if there was to be one still, they could look forward to spending it together, much like this one.