InsaneJournal

Tweak says, "Is that Louis Armstrong?"

And now they coming, yeah, now they coming Out from the shadows

At this time of the night, there was nothing except for the occasional click of the mouse, the tapping of fingers against plastic keys and the whir of various electronics, still serving the incessant demands of a very occupied Primogen. The rest of the floor was cleared—the way everyone knew Micah liked it when he had work to do.

There was very little to indicate that he was even aware of the presence across from him, laying on the couch in his office, quiet and unobtrusive.

But the moment the courier appeared on that level, Micah could sense it.

Like the awareness of a hawk when a hare stumbles out of its burrow, miles beneath. He looked up from the document he was reading, addressing Julian directly. “There’s someone at the door.” It was the footsteps, probably. Or the sound of a newly reanimated heart. Or simply just the sound of anxious breathing—not his or Julian’s own. “I believe they’re looking for you.”

Micah’s own summons had appeared just an hour or so before, much to his continued vexation. The predictions had been right. But it didn’t mean he liked it any more having time to get used to the idea.

While Micah had been aware of the courier the moment he had hit this floor, Julian had been aware of him long before. In fact he had been following his whole journey up here, his mind having noticed and latched on to the other’s long ago. Even if the Malkavian had seemed completely lost otherwise.

Changes in the moon like tonight always seemed to put him on edge. Like Julian needed to feel even more bothered than he already did with Maya’s continued little ‘visits’ that were just leaving him feeling more agitated and annoyed than anything else.

So poking around in the courier’s mind was more welcome than focusing on whatever it was that Maya kept pestering him to do so.

Though the courier seemed a bit more surprised than he should have when Julian pulled up the door before he could even knock. Which was more than the young Kindred he could say he was after he closed the door, already knowing what was in the envelope that was the same as the one that had been brought for Micah earlier.

“Well, I guess there goes all those plans I did not have of going back to Chicago.”

Micah hadn’t hidden the contents of the summons from Julian. It seemed pointless, at this juncture, to try to hide things when they had both been there figuring things out together when they first realised the Justiciar was coming. It did not escape Micah’s notice that he barely held anything back from Julian’s knowledge of late.

He hadn’t liked receiving the official summons. A fact Julian was very much aware of as well, given Micah’s rather foul mood earlier.

The fact that it was a Ventrue Justiciar was even more of a political minefield that he cared for.

“And yet in all of that: not a word mentioning his actual expected date of arrival.” Which was typical of Justiciars, if Micah was to be honest. Why bother announcing if you didn’t leave others anxiously anticipating your arrival?

“All the harder to hide all the skeletons in the closet if you don’t know how much time you have to do so,” Julian pointed out as he took back up his spot on the couch.

He had never met or seen a Justicar before—having had never left Chicago until now and none had ever had reason to visit there during his short amount of unlife. He had heard stories though of how Kindred tended to react when they knew one was coming. How quickly some would clean house at just the knowledge of one arriving whether they were there to look into them or not.

And the missive made a point of not saying who this Malcolm Stuart was coming after didn’t it? Julian had to wonder just how much of a panic they’d be seeing as word spread.

“No arrival date. No mention of his reason for coming.” But the two of them in this room knew. Currently likely the only ones who did. Aside from Maya and she wasn’t talking was she? “I can’t see why the interest in me though.”

Micah closed the document he was reading, leaning back in his chair as he shut his eyes for a minute. Like every other political figure in the city, he had been doing his fair share of cleaning house. Granted, he had far more notice than anyone else in the city. But it had been a tiring couple of days regardless; centuries of unlife meant that he had centuries worth of secrets to keep.

He opened his eyes again after a moment, looking straight at Julian. "It's not a good thing, to have the attention of a Justiciar." If it was possible, Micah wouldn't have wanted this for Julian. But now that the summons had arrived, there was no escaping it. Not without losing everything.

A storm was coming.

Micah felt the pressure of knowledge weigh down heavily upon him. What would be the Justiciar's judgment?

Historically, it had never been anything good.

That was the other part of the stories that Julian had heard. It didn’t matter the original reason for one coming. That once they were here that everyone and everything was fair game. There was never a discussion between them about whether or not they should tell the Prince that a Justicar was coming to lay judgment on him. The fact that one was coming meant all the sins of the city were on trial so in the grand scheme of things Lucian mattered little.

And Julian. Well, he was hardly without his own sins and skeletons. Dorian’s death was legal by Camarilla law. Rusty’s however—

His saving grace would likely lay in the fact that it was the Ventrue Justicar and not the Malkavian one who’d be able to see all that black on his aura.

“So this is it. It matters little now—everything that has happened. What Maya started. There never would have been enough time to stop this.”

And with his arrival, there was nowhere for them to hide either.

There would simply be judgement—irregardless of their own personal opinions on the matter. And at a time like this, with the city crippled by constant aggravations with the Anarchs and lurking Hunters, the odds were not in their favour for a good outcome.

“No. It’s not something that you can stop, generally.” The Justicar’s word was absolute. As was their decision to come and go as they pleased.

He got up, putting aside his work for the night, making his way over to the small glass cabinet he had in his office that conveniently housed his supply of whisky. Moments like these, even being undead didn’t remove the urge to reach for a glass. He came over to the couch with two glasses and a bottle, offering one wordlessly to Julian. “I’ve made the preparations that I could. But at this point there’s nothing else except to sit tight and wait.”

Julian sat up and took the glass while making room on the couch for Micah. He couldn’t help but stare at the amber liquid in the glass and wish that they could actually get drunk off of it. There was the taste, the memory of it, but little else.

“Maybe now with that being all that there is left to do I’ll be left in peace.”

There was little need for Julian to point out what he meant. Micah was there enough to know how the Malkavian was still plagued by the shade of what remained of another one—to the point of having to pull him back at times when Julian lashed out in rage and frustration from it.

“It would be nice to be given that much while we wait to see how fucked we are.”

There was nothing that Micah could say that could change the way things were for Julian. That was a plight that Malkavians bore—unique to their clan. But being Malkavian was also the reason for them knowing ahead of time about the arrival of the Justicar, about Dorian and much else too. For one who had disdained the clan of the soothsayers for the longest time, Micah had reaped much of the benefits of having one at his side.

“Waiting is always the hardest.” Especially for someone like Micah who was so used to action and being the master of his own fate. Waiting tested the limits of his tolerance—especially waiting on an indefinite judgment.

He took a sip of his whisky, sharing much of Julian’s sentiment about the effects of the alcohol on their undead forms.

Waiting was hard, but now that there was nothing more to be done but that, it was also the safest thing that they could do. There was only so much they could do to try and fight one’s fate before you had to give in to that waiting, to stop fighting and see what fate would have of you.

Sometimes that was the real curse of the Malkavian. To not know when to stop trying to fight the things you saw and knew. It was hard not to give into that temptation though when you knew what you could lose in the end.

It was a thought that made Julian reach over and slip his hand into Micah's while leaning his head over onto his shoulder, always seeking out that physical comfort. “At least we don’t have to do it alone.”

It was a strange thing, the idea of having someone now, to wait alongside him. Micah had been alone for much of his undead life. Surrounded by people who followed him, yes. But they had never really been the sort who he would consider involved in his life—only the periphery of it. People who deferred to him because of his control over the territory, people who wanted or had use for his power and resources. The fact that he had one now was still a strange and novel concept to him.

And Micah was tired of pretending that Julian wasn’t involved in his life; he was in every corner that Micah looked now—the visions, the mess with the ghouls, and now even being a harpy of the court.

He looked down at their clasped hands, the incongruity of such an act with the things that Micah was used to was jarring. And yet, it didn’t feel wrong either.

“No, that we do not.” As if he had just come to this realisation.

He met Julian’s eyes, the moment of introspection interrupted by another, more pressing, concern. “You should stay at the apartment for the time being. Or at mine. I’m sure there’s a room free.”

It wasn’t the suggestion to stay at the apartment full time until this was over that surprised Julian. He had been thinking much along the same lines. Right now the more he distanced himself from the other Malks and Chiyu the better off it was for him and for them when the Justifcar came. If they looked too hard at Julian then they’d turn their attention to Connie and the others for being connected to him.

Because if he was very, very lucky they only had an interest in him as far as his dealing as being a harpy and the court secrets he collected as one and not because of any rumors about what he could do. Or why he could do it. Because well, he heard that they never took kindly to those who diablerized others.

Or what he had done for the Sheriff and his connection to Maya.

No, what surprised him was the other suggestion. It had him lifting his head back up so he could look at Micah with questioning blue eyes. He had ended up staying at Micah’s just a couple times and he knew how rare that was for Micah to have someone do, so this offer did surprise him.

“You’d want me around. In your space?”

The suggestion had come, seemingly, from nowhere. But Micah turned it around in his head before he spoke it aloud and found that there was none of the usual resistance he would have had to such an idea. Someone in his space was something Micah badly tolerated. But the idea that it was Julian? It didn't seem that bad.

"You're around here more often than not, it's not really that much difference." Even though they both knew, of course, that it was different. Very much different. Even if they constantly spent time in this office, they were still talking about Micah's own place where he rested and where he had never really allowed any to step foot in easily before.

"And yes, you seem to be gathering death threats in alarming numbers. I think keeping you right where I can see you sounds like a good idea." Though he didn't sound like it was that much of an imposition, but as if he was amused almost.

Julian could just as easily point out the amount of time that Micah spent at the apartment as well. Anymore it seemed like if the Malkavian wasn’t taking time out to be at the Malk house—which usually happened anymore when he knew Micah would be stuck in all night Primogen meetings—then he was here or they were at the apartment together.

And there was a difference, especially right now with how easily Julian was being disturbed out of his own rest as of late. At least he had yet to wake up and almost fry himself again, but he also hadn’t been taking any risk and had gone as far as to pin closed the curtains in the apartment.

The smile and shrug that Julian gave proved that the Ventrue wasn’t the only one almost amused by them. “What can I say. We both know how much I love to play with fire. I guess you’re just going to have to make sure I don’t get burnt.”

This was one of the things Micah liked the most about Julian. One of the things that made it possible and even easy to be around him, the way he shrugged off things that many others would have utilised and made a fuss of.

Micah, being as old as he was, had very little tolerance for nonsense. And Julian's easy demeanor suited him well. Very well.

And it was apparent from the way Micah laughed, an odd sound in light of the situation they found themselves in and what was still to come for all of the Kindred. But a thing he found himself doing with increasing regularity as long as Julian was around. He ruffled Julian's hair, saying, "That's not license to go around the city aggravating all the crazies, mind you." Of which, New York had an unfortunately high number.

“Hey, hey, do you know how long it takes to get my hair like this?” Even as he protested, Julian didn’t swat Micah away because they both knew he was just going to mess up his hair for far different reasons later. Reasons that Julian would most definitely not be protesting about.

And Julian had not failed to notice that it only seemed to be with him that Micah ever smiled with, let alone laughed.

Somehow Julian managed to keep a straight face when he looked at Micah as innocently as he possibly could, trying to keep mischief out of those bright blue eyes. “Me? Aggravating all the crazies? Why Micah, how can I be aggravating all the crazies when I am one of the crazies?” The answer was easily when like many of his clan he was drawn to them and some of them were oh so easy to poke at the mind of.

Technically, yes. But like so many other attributes of Julian, Micah found that he didn't mind this one so much. He certainly had mot expected himself to—Malkavians had always vexed him—but with Julian, it was simply yet another curiosity, another trait of Julian's that came with the kindred. Along with the blond hair, death wish and ridiculously gifted tongue. An entire package that Micah seemed to be getting more and more reliant on.

A touch at the wrist, a warning accompanied with a slightly more severe look. "You know what I mean." As much as Micah had no intention to restrict Julian in any way at all, despite what others might think, he didn't want his indulgence to become the Malkavian's lack of prudence.

In New York, particularly in a time like this, that could easily have dire consequences. And try as he might to pretend otherwise, that simply wasn't something Micah was willing to accept.

Julian studied Micah’s face, even reaching up for a moment so he could trace his fingers along the other kindred’s jawline. “I do know.” He let his hand drop back down. “I’ll keep low and stay out of trouble.”

If he didn’t—if he caught the attention of the Justicar or made him look at him twice—then he’d be causing him to look closer at Micah as well. No way anyone was going to believe that the Ventrue had no idea about the things the young Malakavian had been up to.

It was another thing for Julian to get himself burnt. It was another thing if he caused Micah to get burnt as well.

His brow furrowed as he considered this. “Are you sure you want to keep me closer and not farther away and until this is over?”

Micah gave Julian a look which clearly stated what he thought of that.

It wasn’t simply the fact that they were always seen together these days. Even if they kept a distance, the Justicar wasn’t the type to overlook something just because things didn’t appear to be a certain way. They wouldn’t even set foot in a city without already knowing everything that was going on inside it. And in this, attempting to hide something was foolish.

“Don’t create reasons to seem suspicious. There are things I wouldn’t want to draw attention to. But hiding from the Justicar impossible. The best way is simply to present yourself the way you always are, if they are of a certain mind, they’ve probably decided way before they arrive and nothing you do would change their minds anyway.” In which case there was little point changing their daily activities and lifestyles just to hide certain things.

There were ways around it Julian figured. Ways they could make everyone believe that Micah had finally grown tired of the Malk, that he had lost favor with the Primogen, and had been tossed aside.It wouldn’t be that hard to pull off. It was likely easier for some to believe than the fact that he had lasted this long.

The suggestion refused to come out though. As much as he didn’t want to risk being a liability to Micah, the thought of being away from him unsettled him enough more.

Especially as Micah was offering to let him be closer, even if for a little while.

“Doomed from the start. I guess it’s a good thing I’m not nearly as twitchy as I used to be.” If the Justicar had come when Julian had first come to New York, or even before the whole the Dorian thing had been fully settled, he likely wouldn’t have even stood a chance of making it through the visit.

Micah fought the urge to sigh, picking up his glass again to drink from it. A force of habit, if nothing else.

“Small favours.” Because the justicar arriving, in the grand scheme of things, was decidedly not a good thing at all.

Julian’s eyes followed the glass and watched Micah swallow much like he had that first night when he approached him. “It’s both a curse and a blessing curse that does nothing for us.” Of course that was easily fixable with the right kine blood. “Considering we don’t know how long we’re going to be waiting it could be an issue otherwise.”

It could be a few days. A couple weeks. For all they knew the Justicar could wait until Christmas and slide down the chimney like fucking Santa. Or in this case, it would be Krampus wouldn’t it?

All that waiting. Julian moved the glass enough out of his way so he could kiss Micah and that taste of whiskey on his tongue. “There are perks to not having to wait alone.”

It wasn’t an altogether unpleasant feeling to have the glass removed from his fingers and replaced with a lap full of Julian, pressing closer, their lips meeting in a rush. There was a sense of urgency that Micah sensed, contrary to the words that Julian spoke. A wait on judgment only made those waiting dread each passing second.

Julian’s lips tasted as intoxicating as the liquor was meant to be.

Micah grabbed the back of Julian’s shirt, tugging at it, slipping hands under to the firm muscles beneath. “Indeed.” Leaving the glass on the table, out of harm’s way. Grazing teeth against Julian’s lips, tasting the explosion of Julian’s taste on his tongue. “And you’re going to show me each and every one of them, aren’t you?” Fond, almost, as fingers threaded through Julian’s hair and tugged lightly, exposing the curve of his beautiful neck.

A sigh escaped Julian at the feel of those bare hands on his skin. A touch he couldn’t help but crave and had memorized how they felt. Just like he had the taste of Micah memorized and he couldn’t help the curve of his lips into a smile against the other’s. “Of course I am.”

Just as he couldn’t help the shiver that ran through him as Micah exposed his neck. Or the way his body pressed closer.

“You’ve got to admit I taste much better than the whiskey.”

Micah couldn’t help but laugh. A deep, genuine sound. Yet another courtesy of Julian. “You do have a lot of…” He paused as if to consider, allowing his eyes to trace the lines of Julian’s body, as if he was looking right through, undressing the Malkavian with his eyes. It wasn’t far off—by this point, there wasn’t an inch of Julian’s body that Micah wasn’t intimately familiar with. “Gifted attributes.”

As if to illustrate that point, his wandering fingers stopped at the small nub of sensitive flesh at Julian’s left pec and rubbed it firmly in warning. The Malkavian was getting a little too cheeky for his own good. “Of which,” Micah continued in a deep voice against the shell of Julian’s ear. “One of the top on that list would be the perfect way you take my cock—each and every inch of it.”

Julian was well aware of how dangerously cheeky he was getting. Part of the time he just couldn’t help it. The other part of the time was because he knew in doing so that Micah would put him back into his place for doing so—like he was now. That warning just had a shiver running down Julian’s spin because he knew what it was going to end up leading to.

Just as those words had Julian shifting in Micah’s lap, his hand sliding between them so that he could run his fingers over each of those inches in question. “That’s because it would be a shame to let any inch of such a perfect cock go to waste,” Julian pointed out before he turned his head and captured Micah’s mouth that was so close to his. “How long is this list of gifted attributes of mine?”

Cheeky indeed. But Micah couldn't help the curl upwards at the edges of his lips anyway. "It's hard to say. I think you need to enumerate them again." He smirked, snaking an arm around Julian's waist to drag him closer.

"With live demonstrations."

The look on Micah's face, combined with that lazy smirk, made him seem relaxed for once, a far cry from the tension-filled past week that he had.

“With live demonstrations huh?” The grin that Julian gave was as cheeky as he was being. One that he knew soon Micah would be replacing with far different expressions. “I think I can manage that. Might take a while though.”

Time was certainly something they had plenty of right now though wasn’t it?

“I think the only question is should I start now or later?”

Micah reached for Julian's belt, his eyes filled with mirth and promise. "That I can certainly help you answer."