Julian Blackwood (synapticstatic) wrote in nybynightic, @ 2020-11-08 12:09:00 |
|
|||
Maya stood out on the street staring back up at him. He could see the flames that were consuming the building he was standing in even as he felt it shifting under his feet. It was collapsing of course, though he was unsure if it was because of the flames or because of the rats. It was hard to tell because all of his focus was on the other Malakavian on the street who was trying to tell him something. He could make out the words They found us but there was more. More she was trying to tell him but the burning was becoming to be too much, the blast of heat as glass exploded inwards, almost as if it was happening for real—
Then Julian snapped out of the vision and realized that he really was burning. Somehow he was awake before the sun had set completely and his hand was curled around the curtain, holding it back while he stared out the window. The hand that had been holding the curtain back had started to blister and peel from the lingering rays of the setting sun and upon realizing it the full extent of the pain hit him and Julian let go with a hiss so the heavy curtain that normally blocked out all sunlight fell back into place.
He pressed his back against the wall and curled his hand against his chests as he fought the complete disconnect he was feeling. All he could feel was an underwhelming sense of dread and a heaviness in his chest that he could not describe. It was unlike anything he felt before. Slowly he sunk down to the floor as he tried to figure out where he was. At the moment he was even having trouble focusing and remembering who he was.
There was a bed across the room. He focused on that. Another body that lay there but that he somehow knew wouldn’t be awake yet for a while. Why? Why was there someone else there? And who? Those seemed easier to focus on than anything else right now.
A hand on his neck. A deep baritone in his ear. The taste of rich, thick blood on his tongue.
Micah. It was Micah because Julian had been feeling disturbed for no reason that he could figure out last night and also because Micah had needed the stress relief late last night after everything the Primogen was having to deal with.
Julian grabbed on to that and held on to it so he wouldn’t lose more pieces of himself while he sat there and waited for the sun to go down or sanity to return to him. Whichever might happen first.
Animation was much slower to return for Micah. The older a Kindred was, the more time it took to reanimate the bodies that they had—that they were still using to roam this world. But when he did, finally, it was the lack of a warm heat beside him as he was starting to get used to that alerted Micah first and foremost to the fact that something might be wrong.
The sight of Julian disconnected was not something that Micah enjoyed seeing very much, but it was something that was happening with increasing regularity. An alarming enough occurrence in itself. But these generally resolved easily enough: a touch, the sound of Micah’s voice calling his name.
This time, even as Micah did that, crouching down at Julian’s level, there didn’t seem to be very much recognition at all.
They all had their crosses to bear, but at times like these, Micah had to wonder if the Malkavians didn’t have it the worst out of their lot.
More perturbed than he would have wanted to admit, Micah lifted Julian from the floor, an arm around Julian’s back, another under his knees, walking over to the bed and placing Julian there instead—watching and waiting for the signs of a slow resurfacing.
The disconnect hadn’t been this bad since Julian had gotten to New York. Those first couple of months had not been great for him as his mind had to go against the onslaught of a new city and being alone in it, left on his own to try and cope while dealing with everything else. Somehow he had managed it.
Anything else that had lingered, especially after everything with Dorian, had seemed to be getting better. Especially with Micah to help him deal. But in the end the truth was he’d never be completely free of this. It was the curse of his blood and his broken mind to bear. The cracks that could be hidden away until just the right pressure was applied.
Julian wasn’t sure how long it took him to pull pieces of himself back together. He had no real awareness of the passage of time. But it was clear when he finally did come to himself enough that he reached out for Micah and curled himself against him, still fragile in other ways.
This was something entirely new for Micah. He was not typically the sort to stay over—that was the first thing. But he had broken that guideline many times over with Julian. The Malkavian had made it immensely easy for him too; never assuming, never making any requests or demands. It had simply been more convenient, at first. And now, it had become a matter of course.
But lying in bed in the moments immediately after mind-melting sex was definitely different to this: the subconscious way Julian sought his presence, the way he curled closer and Micah simply lay there, hand tracing a soothing pattern of circles over Julian’s back as he read from his tablet with the other. There was a complete lack of the usual annoyance that would have reared its head by now—were it anyone else—instead, when he felt Julian stirring, Micah paused for a moment, then resumed rubbing his thumb against the nape of Julian’s neck gently.
One day Julian knew that he would become more of a burden than he would be of use. It happened with every Malkavian, some it just happened to sooner rather than later. Hadn’t it been rumored that Maya had been powerful for her age and already going crazy for it before Dorian had even broken her? The young Malk wished that she wasn’t so broken so that he could ask. Was that why he was seeing her in visions or was it because of him and Connie discussing the other day the things that Julian had found lurking in her mind that drew her to mind now?
Still his mind couldn’t help but drift to and wonder what would happen when the day came that he was such a burden. Already Micah surprised him by the amount of times he was there for him without him asking—or when he was unable to ask like tonight. How long until he ended up not wanting to deal with him?
“We all forgot about what Maya saw,” he murmured as he started to come more back to himself. “Or maybe we all just wanted to hope that what Maya saw was the Blue Velvet. After all how much more destruction can this city handle?”
Those fingers halted in their slow kneading of Julian’s tense muscles.
It was becoming rapidly obvious to Micah that regardless of his age, Julian’s connection to the Malkavian primogen and also his involvement in the demise of two prominent elders had given him abilities far beyond those his peers were used to. But whenever Julian came up with these revelations, it still never failed to take Micah by surprise.
“Is that what you saw?” Was he channeling Maya now? The thought was sobering.
Julian frowned as he considered that and tried to process just what he saw into a manner that made sense. That was one of the problems with being a Malkavian wasn’t it? Even the things that they saw or popped into their heads so often didn’t make sense even to them. So much of it ended up being metaphors for Julian. The rats couldn’t really be rats but what—or rather whom in this case—did they stand for?
“It was like Maya’s vision only from the inside, not the outside. Like two sides of the coin. She was outside seeing it happen while I was inside seeing it. Or not so much seeing it so much as seeing her but feeling it happen. The blust. The heat. The way the building shook as the fountain was collapsing. ” In mentioning it, it reminded Julian of his hand and he held it up, still needing to heal it.
Micah watched without comment. It was not the first time that Julian had been disconnected, but the increasing frequency of it and the fact that he was up even before dusk to have sustained those wounds on his hands was a sign for concern.
They had been busy dealing with the aftermath of the Elysium and also the latest headache that had happened over Halloween. But Julian was right: they had assumed that Maya’s vision was simply the Blue Velvet—himself included—without realising that there could be other more worrying possibilities. He reached for Julian’s hand, putting aside his tablet in the other, kneading Julian’s palm as the Malkavian focused on healing it.
“What did you see?” If Julian was right, and that had not been the Blue Velvet, then their problems were far bigger than anyone realised.
For a moment Julian just watched Micah knead his hand but his mind was drifting other places. He was reminded of his words that he had spoken back at the church about how there was more death to come. One could have taken that as meaning what the hunters had then done on Halloween but clearly this was bigger than that.
Big enough to have scared Maya into what she had done.
“The building, large glass windows set in what seems like a boardroom but it’s not the Ivory Tower.” He had been in there enough that there was no way Julian wouldn’t know the building if it was the one from both his own vision and from Maya’s. He was trying to recall Maya’s pieces of if and fit them with his since they seemed to go hand in hand.
“I could feel something—no, someone— in the building before it blew. Rats in the walls.”
Micah’s eyes narrowed at that. Rats in the walls? It wasn’t very much to go on. And if not the Ivory Tower, which building could the vision be referring to? This was a large part of the reason why Micah had never put much stock into Malkavian prophecies. To rely solely on them would leave far too much to chance and guesswork.
“Who else did you see?”
“Just Maya repeating the same words she had said in her own version. They found us.” Julian didn’t have an answer as to who though. The hunters? The Anarchs? Though that one hardly made sense. It was just as frustrating, if not even more so for the young Malkavian, to try and make anything out of the things he saw. He had a sense that he had not been alone in that room but he had never looked away from that window to be able to tell who.
His blue eyes lifted up from his hand to look at Micah’s face. “I’m sorry I don’t have more to go on. Or maybe I’m just failing to piece it together wrong.I wish I could give you clearer answers.” But he was limited by what his mind could do wasn’t he? Maybe there was a way he could go back under, focus better this time instead of being stuck in another trance like he had been at the church. At least at the church he had been able to give a better read off of the things around him.
Right now he didn’t feel like he was offering much at all.
Micah had seen this happen enough times that he knew it was pointless to continue pushing. These visions were vague, often allowing only a brief glimpse into the future. And Julian—as broken as he was especially when it came to certain parts of his mind—was too brittle to piece much of it together.
They had to rely on actual groundwork. Going about this the difficult and tedious way.
Micah raised his hand, brushing his thumb against Julian’s cheek. “It would be good if you can recall anything else, of course. But no one ever relied on prophecies to get what they wanted.” At least, Micah didn’t. And if anyone did, that was their foolish mistake to bear.
“How are you feeling now?”
Julian gave a nod before leaning into that touch. Maybe in time his mind would process what he saw better. Or more would come to him. Just because he saw it now didn’t mean it was happening now. After all, look at how much time had passed since Maya had seen it. Who knew what else she had seen with it that was now lost. Or would have seen. Maybe the closer it got, the clearer things would become.
Or maybe if he pushed it too much it wouldn’t just be his hand next time that got burnt for it.
“I still feel a sense of dread with it. And this strange feeling in my chest that I can’t describe but I’m sure both will pass.” Though Julian knew what Micah was really asking: how was he feeling mentally. “Still fragile but more clear minded. Like it’s untangling and the pieces are fitting back together. They almost slipped away but focusing on the ones that reminded me of you helped me hang on.”
It was odd how Dorian managed to turn someone like Julian against him. Granted, Micah’s appearance probably had something to do with it. But Micah got the feeling that the relationship had long soured even before his appearance.
As fragile as he was, Julian latched onto the slightest sign of security like a lifeline. And somehow—he’d found Micah. The odd thing was this: Micah not finding any kind of annoyance at having to continually fall into that role.
He traced the line of Julian’s jaw. “You should feed.” It was said blandly, like a mere statement, not an order. But a strong suggestion, nonetheless. And the proximity of his wrist—an offering.
Those bright blue eyes searched Micah’s face for a moment. They were clearer than they had been before but it was still easy enough right now to see the cracks that lingered there in them. That hint of insecurity that Julan usually managed to hide away under his false bravo and that sassy smirk.
It was as if everytime Micah offered a gentle touch instead of pushing him away he was surprised and he was. He couldn’t help but be prepared for the opposite,
Normally there’d be a cutting of the offered wrist so as not to take that first step towards a bond but one night would not hurt and Julian wanted that extra contact by actually sinking his teeth in, to offer up those feelings of the Kiss as he bit down into the offered wrist and feed as offered.
It wasn’t, strictly, the first time that Micah had shared something like this with another. But it had been a long time. There were precautions and easier ways of course. But if Julian had been demanding and assuming—as they often tended to get after awhile—it would have sparked the sort of natural defenses against this sort of behaviour with Micah.
But with Julian, there was none of that. Instead, he repeatedly lowered his own defenses and displayed his own insecurities, making it so easy for Micah to give into the path of least resistance.
But convenience couldn’t really explain the offered wrist, could it?
Micah watched as Julian sank teeth in, his free hand threading fingers through Julian’s hair as he waited, patient.
No, with Julian it was very easy to tell the things that he wanted from Micah, things that he craved but never once outright demanded or expected of the Ventrue. Those affectionate touches that Micah didn’t even seem to notice he gave him and the care that he gave him when Julian knew from experience that there were other ways to handle him. And in return all he wanted to do was please Micah. It didn’t get any simpler than that.
The Malkavian took what he needed before running his tongue over the wounds his fangs had left behind to seal them up. Then he lifted his head up and leaned in so he could brush his lips over Micah’s. “Thank you.” Because the elder didn’t have to keep feeding Julian himself but he did anyway.
That brought a smile to Micah’s lips. “You thank me for this, but not the sex last night?” Teasing, a sign that Micah seemed to be in a good mood. Even if there was still a mountain of work that he still had to attend to do.
But Julian’s courtesy when it came to accepting things that Micah freely gave was always refreshing. So many came to Micah—because of who he was—expecting things. The Prince, other Ventrue—very few were exceptions.
Julian was one, however.
“You know what I always say: words are easy, it’s the actions that matter.” In that same, playful and teasing tone.
“Oh I am always very, very appricative of the sex,” Julian pointed out. Something there was very little doubt of especially when they were in the middle of it considering Julian was never anything but quiet about it. Submissive and a bottom he may be but he wasn’t one of those quiet, shy ones about it.
Now that he was feeling more of himself and that teasing tone of Micah’s, he couldn’t help but shift his position and press up against Micah in a completely different way. Julian’s hands couldn’t help but stroke and trace over the abs of the Ventrue’s stomach. “Do you have time for me to show you just how much I appreciate it?” He wasn’t sure how long they had been laying here before he had snapped out of it. How long he might have been keeping Micah from work that needed to be done.
Micah smirked, reaching for Julian to pull him up to a far more accessible and better poised position. “For you, I can clear out my schedule.”
And if he didn’t want to examine that statement too closely, well, no one was forcing him to.
For now, at least.