Julian Blackwood (synapticstatic) wrote in nybynightic, @ 2020-08-29 00:47:00 |
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Entry tags: | activity type: log/thread, character: julian blackwood, character: micah lucciano |
At least Micah fucking him sensless was one way to get grounded once more. Maybe not the healthiest way to cope but it worked and that’s all that mattered. He had broken away from his olds ways and the better ways he had been starting to find since coming to New York. That ship had sailed and was very much not coming back wasn’t it.
Julian had very much not been surprised to have been told by someone they might have feelings for him but that it was bullshit and then have them return to their old lover. He knew he wasn’t made for being loved. Only this. It had been that way before he became a Kindred and it would stay that way now that he was Kindred. Love was for other people.
It was the ringing of his phone that brought him out of his melancholy thoughts. He let it ring and go to voicemail but then it just started again. Frowning, Julian got up to find where his pants had fallen so that he could retrieve his phone and turn the sound on it off. Then he saw the name of who was calling and sat down hard on the edge of the bed.
Dorian.
The Malkavian had been heading off answering his calls ever since arriving in New York, sending him bullshit texts in reply instead. Something told him to answer this call. That if he didn’t he was going to end up regretting it.
He didn’t even get out a hello before Dorian started in on him about not returning his phone calls or calling to update him like he was supposed to be, the Ventrue’s voice coming out loud and clear through the other end of the phone.
“I wasn’t aware there was a timeline on this, Dorian. Maybe you should have thought of that before you sent me here with no support and no blood. It’s been a little hard to deal, especially with the hunger. How did you expect me to do anything while starving,” Julian snapped back.
There was silence on the other for a moment. Rarely did Julian fight back. Of course when you had a Blood Bond in place you normally didn’t. The fact that Julian just had was telling and it was clear the Ventrue on the other end of the phone was considering this new information about his pet. A moment later he continued on and Julian’s stomach sank with it.
“What do you mean you’re in New York? What was the sense in sending me if you were just going to come?” Even as he asked it his mind was screaming at him no, no, no that the Ventrue that had held his leash for so long as here. “No. No. I can’t right now.” Even if he wanted to go to Dorian right now, his head was starting to spin again. “No. I’ll call you back later.” He hung up before Dorian could try anything. In theory domination didn’t work through the phone but he’d really rather not find out. He tossed the phone aside before thrusting his fingers through his hair. He had never even noticed the shower turning off at some point during it all.
Micah stood at the doorway, a towel wrapped around his waist and a smaller one around his neck. There was little doubt as to who the person on the other end of that line was, or what he was demanding. The question was what he was trying to get out of Julian. And why now.
His people had traced Dorian’s activities in New York to the beginning of June, with other remotely-operated transactions even way before that. It meant that Dorian had something big he was planning. And Micah would be a fool not to realise what it was, in light of recent events. Dorian had always been an overreaching imbecile. But to send his toy— Micah paused and stared at the downcast figure seated on the edge of his bed. What was he truly hoping to achieve?
“Somewhere you have to be?” His tone was pitched right on the edge of curious and disapproving.
The few feet between the door and the bed was swallowed up by Micah’s lengthy strides, and he settled on the bed an arm’s length away from Julian to observe the Malkavian at a close distance.
Julian looked up and over at Micah. “No. And not anywhere I’d want to be anyways.” He had no desire to go back to Dorian, to go back to living under his thumb. To continue being a pawn in whatever game it was Dorian was playing. Julian thought he had known—that all of this was to further his position in Chicago. If that was so why would Dorian be here in New York?
He wasn’t going to flatter himself to think that the Ventrue was chasing after his Malkaivan who had broken his blood bond and wasn’t giving him the information that he wanted. Which there was something about Dorian arriving in New York that caused something to nag at Julian’s mind about what he had seen in Maya’s head. He just couldn’t figure out what.
That didn’t mean however that Dorian wouldn’t try and get him back on his leash now that he was here. Obviously he wouldn’t be demanding Julian come see him otherwise. It was that he could dominate him into coming back. Possibly try to establish a new blood bond.. How long could he actually avoid that happening?
Unless…
It was a dangerous thing he was about to ask considering how high up Micah was at court but that’s also what made him the perfect one to ask. “What would it cost me to ask for your protection as the Duke of Yorkville?”
It was an odd relationship that they shared, Julian and Dorian. From the time when Julian was a ghoul, there had been an uncanny attachment from the Kindred—something Micah never allowed himself to do. But he had always assumed that the attachment was… somewhat mutual.
It would seem that this was not necessarily the case.
Micah sat forward, his palm cupping the sharp angle of Julian’s jaw, lifting it to meet his eyes. “That depends,” he said, emphasis clear. “What do you have to offer me?”
It would have been threatening if it weren’t for the almost amused look on Micah’s face.
Once it had been mutual. Then slowly less and less so though that blood bond had assured that for Julian that he could never be free of certain things that he felt. Then after what happened with Rusty—it had changed everything. Still Julian could not break completely.
Not until now.
And the only thing he had to offer Micah was the same use that Dorian had for him. Except this way maybe he had a chance of not being put on a leash.
So he met Micah’s gaze without flinching. “You said it yourself. It’s not everyday someone like me shows up. Full use of my abilities and anything I learn using them.”
“Anything?” He tested the word aloud. And found that the idea sat well with him.
It was true that Micah had plenty of people at his disposal, many of which with varied talents. But a Malkavian like Julian, given the things he had done and was now capable of doing, was a rare find indeed. And that wasn’t even counting the fact that his talents had already been tapped by the Hounds—something that his sources had confirmed not too long ago.
And it pleased Micah too, that Julian’s immediate response had been one of undeniable benefit to him: something tangible. Pragmatic. For a Malkavian, it was practically unheard of.
His eyes fell on the rapidly darkening marks on Julian’s pale skin, his hand slipping to one particularly noticeable one just beneath Julian’s collarbone, tracing a circle over it with his thumb. “Tell me: what are you running from?”
For a moment Julian’s eyes slipped closed at the touch and just let it soak in. It seemed so casual and yet on purpose at the same time considering it was one of the marks Micah had left on his body. This was part of the reason that Julian couldn’t go back to Dorian. The cold indifference. The never touching him.
And so he was willing to trade the devil he knew for the devil he didn’t. Maybe he’d burn for it but at least he might get to enjoy it for a bit before he did.
Julian opened up his eyes and looked at Micah once more. “The one I was Blood Bound to.” It was the simplest way to explain the relationship between him and Dorian. After all Dorian wasn’t his sire even if he was the one who had gotten stuck with the mess.
Surprise was not difficult to manufacture, Micah simply did not bother. He had known this. It was simply Julian who did not seem to realise. He let his hands wander instead, marveling at the way the bruises showed on Julian’s skin like an art form of its own. All of them marks Julian could easily heal, and yet the simple fact that he didn’t, spoke louder than anything he could have said.
“And what are you doing here all alone, away from the one you are bound to?” The bond was weakening. That much was obvious. Julian could not have spoken to Dorian like this with him still being completely under the Ventrue’s influence.
The bond was gone. Part of a trade with a certain Tremere that had wanted something in return. But there was no deal between himself and Micah just yet and so that bit of information was his to keep until there was one in play.
A pawn he might be, but Julian was far from being a stupid one.
“I could tell all the way in Chicago that there was something happening here and he wanted to know more. Wanted to be able to use the information to further his place at court.” Or so Julian had been told but now he was finding holes in the things he had been told. Holes in himself even that shouldn’t exist but did. They were ones the web kept battering at him to try and fell and yet kept causing his mind to glitch instead as he worked to process it all. “Now I’m not so alone. He’s here in New York and I do not wish to go back on his leash.”
It all sounded reasonable. Too reasonable.
Looping his arm around Julian’s waist, he tugged the Malkavian close so he could look right into his eyes as he tucked the falling strands of Julian’s hair behind his ear. “And what’s to prevent you from doing just that if and when he finds you?”
New York was a big city. And there were places to hide even if one wasn’t the Duke of Yorkville. But a Kindred scorned was nothing to belittle. And especially a kindred like Dorian with everything to lose if he didn’t get his toy back. “You’d become completely useless to me if he so much as came within ten feet of you.” Meaning the bond.
Regardless of how weak it had become, all it took was for Dorian to sniff the trails of where Julian was—it would be impossible to disobey a direct order from one he was bonded to.
Julian’s hands came up to rest against Micah’s chest as he pulled him close. That tucking of his hair behind his ear was a gesture that the Malkavian knew better than to read into but even if it wasn’t one of actual affection it was still one that he craved. It was a fact that he knew he couldn’t hide from his eyes as he gazed back at Micah.
He was quickly losing any of the cards that he thought he might have to hang on to. The only way he was going to get Micah to help him was to show them all. And really, could he blame the Ventrue? Was what he was offering really worth the trouble Dorian might cause if he was claimed under the protection of another?
“I’m not bonded anymore.” Julian couldn’t help but lick his lips before he continued. “The bond has been broken. Exchange for services rendered.”
That he had not known. And it showed in the arch of a single eyebrow. It made sense, however. It explained how Julian was all alone in New York and left alone for that same period of time, without anyone to notice the sort of mess he was cuddling up to—perhaps literally.
The lower halves of their bodies were covered. But their chests were pressed against one another—skin against skin. Micah, leaning against the headboard, propped up with pillows, with Julian leaning on him. He slid a hand down Julian’s back, letting it rest against the curve of Julian’s hip. “Most impressive.” And it was. Few would ever find their way out of a blood bond, most didn’t even have the courage to try.
He gave Julian’s ass a firm squeeze, an approving smirk on his lips. “And if I want you to pretend that you’re still under his control?”
Julian had let his eyes flutter shut, leaning his head on the other’s shoulder, soaking up the contact while at the same time pleased with himself that he had managed to impress Micah. Just because he was good at making some bad choices didn’t mean he was without his resourcefulness or knew when to take an opportunity when it presented himself.
Those same eyes popped back open as Micah asked that question. The whole point was to stay away from Dorian. Not to go near him. The Malkavian tried to fight down any panic he felt at the idea until he at least heard the Ventrue’s reasoning. “But why? How? Dorian would just dominate me the moment I got close enough. He’s been using it for years as a way to control some of the —nastier side effects of my condition. Blood bond or no blood bond I’d be back under his control.”
But the panic was evident. It was in his eyes. In the way his muscles tensed under Micah’s hands. And for a moment, Micah a stirring of desire, triggered by the heady mix of Julian’s vulnerability and subservience. He let his hand dip further, past the waistband of Julian’s pants to the space between two firm globes.
“Not if you have already been told not to obey those commands. Not if you had something else: something far stronger that would hold you grounded.” Micah was grinning as he pressed a finger in what was undoubtedly sore and thoroughly used from their earlier exertions.
What would Dorian say, if he could see Julian now?
Micah’s touch drew out a moan from Julian and grounded him in a different way completely. Could it work? Maybe. Especially if Micah was the stronger Ventrue and the Malkavian had a feeling that he was. Otherwise he wouldn’t have even bothered asking for Micah’s protection in the first place.
“And what,” okay, that finger was more than grounding it was distracting and Julian couldn’t help but tighten himself around it as he was teased, “would be the purpose of me pretending to still be his to control if it did work?” Right now he didn’t want to think about what would happen if it didn't work and he actually did end up back until Dorian’s control.
The fact that Julian was actually entertaining the idea was pleasing, to say the least. Most interesting. He was afraid of Dorian. And yet, to agree to going back simply because Micah was asking it of him.
Micah dug his finger deeper, searching for the spot inside that would turn Julian’s spine liquid. The gentle, coaxing nature of his movements a stark contrast to the macabre proposal he presented to Julian in the next minute: “We get rid of him, once and for all.”
Julian completely melted against Micah, his head falling forward to rest against his shoulder once more. The moan he gave told when the Ventrue had hit just the right spot. Unfortunately for Julian that’s all the response hi’s body could give right now, starved for blood as it. He was about to point this out when Micah’s next words had his head snapping back up once more.
It wasn’t as if he was opposed to the idea. It really was the only way to ever be free wasn’t it? Dorian had pushed Julian away in this manner because he was afraid of what Julian might do after what he had done to his sire. The blood bond had just kept Julian from ever being able to act on it. Now though—
“Alright.” No other hesitation. Just alright “But if we’re going to do this there’s something you need to know.”
Micah paused in his ministrations, sensing the urgency in Julian’s tone, slanting a look at the other to indicate that he should finish what he was about to say.
“The only way this is going to work is if I’m strong and not half out of mind with hunger.” Julian spent enough of the time half out of his mind for other reasons. The hunger gnawing at him only made it worse. “I’m one of those Malkavians who has a blood addiction. I’m only well fed unless it’s my type of blood otherwise I’m always left with a lingering hunger.” In that they were very much alike weren’t they given the bane of Venture. “Only I’m addicted to the vitae of other Kindred.”
It wasn’t unheard of. And amongst Ventrue, it was quite simply commonplace. But it explained why Dorian had managed to control Julian for the longest time. A blood addiction was so much more convenient.
He looked at Julian, his fingers going back to the easy pace he had been using before, a smirk complementing the teasing tone that he used now. “Vitae of other Kindred hm?” That was a broad category, not a specific request or even a plea. And Micah was in no hurry at all. “I’m sure that can be arranged.” As if it was simply something on a grocery list that he would procure for Julian.
“Shall I provide a list of them for your perusal?” More of the same teasing tone, even as he added in a second finger to open Julian up wider.
There were other secrets. Secrets that for now were Julian’s to keep until there was more trust on his part where Micah was concerned. He was already handing over one way to control him, the same way that Dorian had, he wasn’t about to hand over everything just yet. Sooner or later he’d have to but not right now.
Julian had little doubt that Micah could just whip up a list for his perusal. Nor did he doubt that the other would see to it that he was kept well fed in the future whether it be because of what he planned or has a way to control him. After all, Micah had done figured out one of the ways that he had control over the Malkavian. A way that had him moaning again. That had him digging his fingers into Micah’s arm and looking at him with pleading eyes.
“Please,” he moaned. “This is unfair and you know it.” And yet he wasn’t begging him to stop was he?
Stubborn. But Micah almost preferred it this way. To watch the slight color in Julian’s cheeks and way he tried to school all of his body’s reactions, to hold himself still and tense as if by doing so he could stave off the course of want and desire.
“Do I?” Micah’s amusement was almost palpable. “I don’t think I know anything of the sort. After all, I haven’t heard you ask for anything.” A slight shift, so that his wrist could angle better and apply pressure just that much better. His own arousal was a quickly burgeoning existence rubbing against the flat planes of Julian’s stomach, even if it was still hidden under the towel.
“Oh for fucksake, Micah,” Julian snapped, even as he gasped out in pleasure as that extra pressure. The sounds he made were currently the only signs that he was able to show the effect Micah was having on him. He had used up too much of what little blood he had earlier.
They both knew he wasn’t above begging though and Julian started to place kisses along Micah’s jaw while at the same time his hand started to slide down the Ventrue’s firm body so that it could disappear until the towel and wrap around the hardening flesh there. His hand tightened and stroked just as his lips made it to Micah’s neck and his tongue ran over the vein there. “Please. Feed me. Fuck me.” And preferably in that order.
The annoyance plain in his tone caused the Ventrue to chuckle, a deep sound reverberating in his chest as he finally pulled away to spare Julian the torment. Clearly amused, rather than at all angered by Julian’s insolence. Still, Micah placed a finger on Julian’s lips, directing the starving kindred away from his neck for the moment. In the next, he sliced open his wrist with a fang, and brought it to the starving Kindred.
His free hand snaked around Julian’s back, to hold him there as he fed. “Now, that wasn’t so hard was it?” But his tone was indulgent, a master doling out rewards for good behavior—even if Julian wasn’t his. Not yet.
Julian latched on but didn’t bite down even though he wanted to. He knew better than to do so. That wasn’t something he could risk doing, not so soon after breaking one bond. Keeping his fangs in check mattered little in the scheme of things though. Right now all that really mattered was the blood that slid down his throat as he swallowed and the evaporating hunger as he did. All too soon he was running his tongue over the cut to heal it.
Even with the blood he had needed now in his system, Julian still didn’t heal himself. Not yet, leaving Micah’s marks on his body. Leaving that delicious feeling of soreness that mixed with the pleasure where Micah’s fingers had filled and stretched him. He did though allow his body to react to all of that. “Thank you,” he uttered as he moved away from Micah’s wrist and kissed him, the taste of blood lingering on his tongue.
Julian tasted like the coppery taste of himself, familiar and not, all at once. Micah broke their kiss, pulling away, only to flip them around, pressing Julian into the mattress, his eyes glinting with the exhilaration of a triggered hunger—except for him, it was not for blood.
In this position, his towel fell clearly to the side, exposing the strong, powerful frame under, his fingers digging into the blossoming purple on Julian’s left hip. “You’re not healing them.” It needed no explanation, what ‘them’ referred to, the pressure he exerted subtly was hint enough. Micah simply stared down at the Malkavian, and it was impossible to tell from the intense look in his eyes what he thought of it. Only that it clearly was significant enough for him to comment on.
That pressure was enough to draw a soft hiss from Julian but it was clear from the look in his eyes as he returned Micah’s stare that it hadn’t been completely painful. Not in the way that most would have found it anyway. “No, I’m not,” he simply stated back. He let what that implied hang there in the air between them, not bothering to explain as he let his hands run over the hard body over him.
“Did you want me to?” Even with that unreadable stare bearing down on him, Julian was pretty sure he knew the answer to his question but he asked it away. There was just the smallest hint of amusement in his own gaze as he continued to meet Micah’s intense one.
Micah’s hand squeezed hardly on his hip in warning. But there was the slightest curve of a smirk on his lips—finally, a sign that he was pleased. Nudging Julian's thighs apart to settle in the space between, Micah entered with no further warning. Julian was warm around him, and slick too from their earlier exertions, but Micah moved in one, unforgiving thrust, his hand on Julian’s hip a firm vice preventing the slightest give or movement away.
He leaned down to whisper, his voice a slight notch deeper than usual. “You love playing with fire, don’t you?” And accompanying this comment, the touch of Micah’s probing fingers around the rim, playing with how stretched Julian felt around him.
That one unforgiving thrust drew out a low moan from Julian, both the pleasure and burn of it traveling up his spine. He was stretched from earlier but still sore enough from how hard Micah had taken him that he felt it. Yet even if Micah hadn’t been holding him down he wouldn’t have moved away. He craved it too much, craved the feel of Micah stretching and him filling him like that. If anything his hips would have been moving forward for more.
Micah wasn’t wrong about Julian liking to play with fire. He wouldn’t have ended up here in the Ventrue’s bed otherwise when he knew what he was getting into. Not that he was complaining. Not at all, those fingers drawing out another low moan from him. His own lips couldn’t help but curl upwards at the question though. “You’d be bored of me already if I didn’t.”
Which was true. They both knew it.
Just as much as Micah could tell how Julian still ached, deep inside. It was in the pitch of his moan, the way his muscles didn’t feel quite completely relaxed, the way even fed he could summon the strength to do much more except lie there and accept the steady increase in force behind each thrust. Coaxed to a rare moment of tenderness—at odds with the pace he was setting—Micah’s kiss landed on the corner of Julian’s lips. “Guess that just means I’ll be keeping you around for a lot longer than I thought.”
Until Micah did finally get bored with him, Julian knew. But that could be weeks from now. Months. Maybe a couple years if Julian got really lucky and managed to keep his attention that long. Right now that didn’t matter though. His lips couldn’t help but twitch at the tenderness that seemed very much out of place for the Ventrue.
“I told you before. I’m yours to do with as you please.