Julian Blackwood (synapticstatic) wrote in nybynightic, @ 2021-04-03 01:43:00 |
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Entry tags: | activity type: log/thread, character: julian blackwood, character: micah lucciano, npc: other |
London had proven that.
Which meant that they were likely here for more than the fact that one delegate who had been sent to witness the proceeding of the Justicar’s decision had been killed. Julian had yet to discern what that reason was. Not that it kept him from trying. Something that the Emissary entering Micah’s office must have picked up on as they paused and looked right at the probing Malkavian. A look that was met with an unapologetic shrug. After everything that happened they could hardly be blamed for taking every precaution they had. And it wasn’t like the Lasombra hadn’t been moving about the city unannounced for several days.
Eyes slid away from the Malkavian to step more fully into Micah’s office and landed instead on the new Ventrue Prince of New York City instead.
“Prince Lucciano. Thank you for seeing me,” the Emissary stated as she stepped farther into the room.
Micah’s office had evolved, over time, into the modified modern throne room of sorts, his chair and table seated atop a platform in a large, open room and a space in between that spoke of the Prince’s reach of power as he had his audience waiting in that lower ground. In many ways, it was perfect for precisely this sort of purpose—meeting the Lasombra emissary.
“Of course. We couldn’t miss out on meeting a Lasombra representative.” Nor ignore any of the possibilities they presented.
The clan of the Lasombra had always been separate and distinct from the rest. But they were not without their powers and their unique brand of influence. Something that Micah was fully hoping to capitalise on.
“Please, have a seat.” Micah gestured to a couch at the corner of the room, an expensive oak table in front of it that Micah sidestepped as he came down the platform and took up the space next to the emissary.
The show of power was not lost on the emissary but she didn’t comment on it as she watched Micah move. His taking up a seat next to her on the couch seemed like such a casual move but Tatiana Rinaldi knew otherwise. It, like everything else, was a calculated move on the Prince’s part. She had heard much over the past few days and knew he didn’t do anything without reason.
That and of course word of his victory over Chicago’s own Dorian Valatieri was well known back home. Or rather as it was known as Dorian’s defeat considering not only did he lose the Primogen spot he had plotted for but also his life and his prized Malkavian.
The Malkavian that was talked about openly within the New York Court as not a new Herald as the voice of the Prince—nor just a Harpy anymore—but rather his Whisper. The one who would not hesitate to reach in and pluck out your secrets.
“I also thank you for keeping this a private meeting between just us,” she gave Micah a pointed look, “and not a matter of Court. I feel that it will give us a better chance to discuss matters that are important to us both.”
It wasn’t an unexpected request. But it was unusual. Even separate, a formal visit as part of the Court was still official. A private meeting would mean vastly different things. But at the end of the day, perhaps the latter would make the Lasombra more willing to come to a deal that was beneficial to them both.
Micah watched the emissary, letting the silence speak for itself for a moment. This much was also part of the entire process of figuring out where they stood and their relative positions.
But eventually, “Of course. That can definitely be done.”
“I look forward to what you have to share with me. And what you have to offer.”
Tatiana gave Micah a smile because she knew while they were alone in here and not sitting with the full of Micah’s Court around him while they discussed matters that they weren’t fully alone. Not with the way of Kindred but she could hardly blame any of them.
And it wasn’t as if she didn’t have Lasombra hidden in the shadows throughout the Shadows.
“Chicago is, of course, concerned about the recent events that have taken place within your city. Events that seemed to have worked out in your favor. Congratulations on that by the way. Though I’m sure you’d much rather they have not happened at all in the first place. And while the loss of one of Chicago’s does aggrieve one, it’s not as if it’s the first time one of Chicago’s own has been lost here.”
Micah raised an arch eyebrow at this.
The emissary shifted on the couch and looked straight at Micah. “I’m not going to draw this out. The short of it is that you have an infestation that needs taken care of.”
None of this was new information. But for someone from Chicago to be this brutally honest and upfront about it, they had guts that was for sure. Micah was as political as one could be, having spent his fair share of time at the Courts. But bringing up Dorian first? Now calling this an infestation? That honesty could go only one of two ways. Fortunately for her, Micah was leaning more towards the pragmatism of it all.
“None of this tells me what you are offering.” Not a denial of the current state of affairs in New York. Because Micah wasn’t going to pretend like things weren’t what they were.
That brought a small smile to her lips. “To help with the problem of course.” The Lasombra could have dragged this out and let the Prince ask the why of it but there seemed to be little reason in doing so.
“Things have become—uncomfortable in Chicago as of late. Things that probably helped mutual acquaintances of ours to see better opportunities elsewhere and cause them to try their hand at things better left alone. While I too see better opportunities I assure you that I am not as much a fool as certain others.”
She let that sink in just a moment before continuing. “I’ve been sent by Chicago because in the grand scheme of things clan Lasombra means little to them. They are curious as to what is going on here but we are expendable to them. I would like to bring several of my clan to New York instead.”
It was indeed quite something to digest. While Micah had hoped that there was something substantial the Lasombra could offer, this was something quite significantly more. But more was good. It was what they needed in their current situation. The trouble was being able to trust that they were operating in good faith. And like most Kindred, Micah had a healthy dose of skepticism where the Lasombra was concerned.
“New York can be your new home.” Micah said it as a statement. Not a question. It was what he was offering, after all. His deal at the table. There was a pause here too, allowing them both to digest that.
“You’ll understand that I need more assurances than just your word for it however. Your clan’s abilities are unique. I’m willing to take the hand you’re offering, but reservations are only to be expected.” Especially if he was letting more than one Lasombra run free in New York.
‘Of course.” And despite the ruthless way that it was said that the prince and his seneschal had walked in and taken over the Ivory Tower for themselves, the emissary suspected that his price would not be the same as other cities had asked of members of her clan. “What kind of reassurances did you have in mind?”
“A formal swearing of your loyalty to New York.” Micah didn’t bother mincing his words. The Lasombra would need to decide whether they were in it for good measure or not. “You and any of your clan that you decide to bring in.” Because Micah wasn’t allowing any Lasombra full rein of the New York streets for anything less.
Tatiana inclined her head in agreement. That came as no surprise and had been expected. Something she had been more than expecting to have to give. No Camarilla city was going to let them in without bending the knee to Prince and city. “I would expect no less. Is there anything else?” She was sure he had heard of the prices extracted out of them from other cities to allow them within the Camarilla and ensure they weren’t just Sabbat plants.
“And your services as Hounds of the city.” It wasn’t something that Micah had come up with on a whim. Given their abilities, it would most certainly be an efficient utilisation of resources. And that was something that they could most certainly use, given how drastically reduced the Hound numbers were now.
This did cause the emissary to raise one perfectly plucked brow. The request was both surprising and not all at the same time. She knew of course of their current hound problem but did not mention it. Given the problem it did make sense and her people were perfect for it given their abilities both as a clan and for some of them who were skilled predators.
It was certainly a less bloody demand than most princes made and a practical one as well given the city's current issues.
“Done. Consider our most skilled Templars yours to use as you see fit.”
Micah smirked. That was considerably less painful a process than he had originally thought it would be.
He held out a hand for her to shake on it. “Then, as it were, welcome to New York.”
The night was still young and it seemed that it was not going to be lacking for visitors that night. This one had not bothered with scheduling an appointment like the Lasombra had. But then when you were there on behalf of the Justicars one so rarely did as you expected to be received at a moment’s notice.
What bothered Julian was that he didn’t know the Kindred was there until he was almost to the door and he had a feeling he only knew then because they let him know. He looked up from where he sat discussing something with Micah and frowned. “There’s a—Banu Haqim approaching.” Julian was young enough and the Banu Haqim was rarely seen in the States that he knew little about the clan but his frown deepened. “Oh. It’s about the Justicar.” His eyes looked up and met Micah’s.
They had a moment as at least their unexpected guest was checking in with one of Micah’s assistant's to make sure the prince was available.
It was something Micah had learned to trust—Julian’s instincts. The Malkavian’s powers grew with each day, and with him at Micah’s side, there was very little way to catch the Ventrue prince offguard. Although the Banu Haqim was certainly a new one.
What would a Banu Haqim be doing in New York?
Micah looked up from where he was perusing his documents for the day. More work to stamp and sign on. More manpower and resources needed and too little to spare.
“What does he want?” Micah suspected it might have to do with the Justicar. But regardless, sometimes Julian could tell for sure, and Micah appreciated every advantage he could use.
For a moment Julian seemed to check out completely when what he was really doing was focusing in and trying to get more of a read on the Banu Haqim. In a way it was like trying to get a read off of Amadeus who was old and whose mind guarded it's secrets well—or Micah’s own though Julian never actually tired, not for those reasons. Even as Julian's mind brushed their unexpected guest's, he got the feeling of being looked at in return.
It was unsettling to say the least.
"Judgement," Julian finally uttered as he pulled back. "For what happened here."
Judges and assassins were two things the Banu Haqim were well known for. Hopefully one would not lead to the other in this case. "He's already made it though what it is I can't say."
Micah did not like the sound of that at all. Someone who made up their mind before they ever stepped foot into New York? The last person who did that was the Justicar himself. And look how he ended up.
“I guess we’ll find out.”
The man in question himself eventually found his way to Micah’s office and was treated with much the same treatment as what the Lasombra had been. Though Micah looked up without much fanfare and steepled his hands as he eye the man contemplatively.
“Banu Haqim,” he addressed the man before him. “To what do we owe the pleasure?”
The Banu Haqim just smiled. “You may call me Khalid and I think we all know why I am here.” His eyes flicked over to where Julian sat, not only acknowledging that he knew the Malkavian was in the room but what he had been doing since the Banu Haqim had arrived in the building. “So let’s not waste any time shall we.”
Though he was not offered a seat, the Judge helped himself to one just the same. “A Justicar died in your city. Not just him but several prominent figures of not just your city but others as well. Yet you and your sheriff made it out alive. Some may see that as convent seeing how you are respectively now prince and seneschal.”
For a moment the Kindred calling himself Khalid gave Micah a speculative look back. “You are not without sin or grave misdeeds, Micah Lucciano, no Kindred your age is, but I do not believe this to be one of them.”
Well that much was good to know, at least. Micah was getting tired of people arriving on his territory and wanting to judge him or his city for what had happened. It was his city. What gave them the right to judge any of it? Where were they when the city burned?
He dropped the smile, simply eyed the Banu Haqim speculatively.
“And yet here you are.” If there was no fault to be attributed, then why did a Banu Haqim make his way all the way to New York city?
“And yet here I am indeed,” the Judge agreed. “In main part because I had to see for myself and in that I am glad that I did.” He had been in the city much longer than they thought, hiding much easier from the young Malkavian than the Lasombra had.
“ You work to rebuild the power of your city so that it might stand the continued attacks that the Inquisition will undoubtedly rain down upon it. You are to be commended for that. Those that I report back to will be told that what happened is exactly what it was—an attack from the Second Inquisition.”
Which took care of his official business here. It was clear from the way that he seemed in no hurry to rise from his seat that there was more that he wished to discuss.
It was a relief. Micah didn't care for others opinions. What he did for the city he did of his own accord and free will. Perhaps a sense of belonging, or some other Kindred urge to lay roots--but whatever it was, Micah had decided that he would take on the city as his responsibility. He didn't care for opinions. But approval was always nice to have regardless.
Though it seemed like there was more to Khalid's visit than just to state his approval.
"Your report--as such--would be much appreciated." Micah could admit that much. It would be nice to have the other seats of power off his back and not have to watch for knives in his back from the dark.
When, after a decent pause, the Banu Haqim had not moved from his position, Micah lifted an eyebrow and added, "Was there something else we can help you with?"
“There is. Or rather a way that I can help you. It is not an offer I’d make to just anyone—and is one that still hinges on one thing. I have been intrigued by not only the alliances you’ve been able to make but also by those you have chosen to serve you in your court. A Tremere for a sheriff was a bold move on your previous prince’s part but to have one serve as seneschal even greater. And to replace that sheriff with a Toreador a step away from the Rose’s usual role in things. The fact that you worry more about Elysium right now as a place of safety and refuge rather than distraction with meaningless gatherings and parties—all speak highly of you and give me hope of what kind of Prince you will be compared to your predecessor. However, that is not the thing that interests me the most.”
The Banu Haqim shifted in his seat as he looked at Julian and studied him. “It’s your paramour here that holds the greater interest. Tell me, do you know what the Banu Haqim are feared for the most?” Whether the question was aimed at Micah or Julian himself was unclear. What was clear was that there was something about Julian that he was looking at.
Micah wasn't sure that he liked where this was going. In fact he had the distinct impression that he was not going to like it at all once the man was done saying what he was trying to say.
There was something about how he had used the word 'paramour' as well.
And the fact that he was bringing up the Banu Haqim when they all knew what they were most known for. Micah narrowed his eyes at the man and resisted the urge to step in front of Julian--to hide him from view. He told himself that Julian was a grown Malkavian perfectly capable of handling his own battles.
"What has that got to do with anything?" Micah said, tiring of riddles. "You'll excuse me if I won't take your 'help' at face value until you make yourself quite clear." Especially if it was going to be anything that endangered Julian in any way.
Khalid simply smiled as he kept his attention on Julian but it was clear that he found Micah’s reaction more pleasing than anything else. “There are very few who tolerate such things. Tell me young one, how many times?”
The question caused Julian to glance at Micah, unsure as to whether he should answer him or not. They both knew the Justicar had suspected the rumors to be true but there was something about Khalid that made Julian feel like he knew for a fact and that if he didn’t answer the right way they might lose something here.
Julian looked away from Micah and straight back at the Banu Haqiem as he answered. “Two.”
“Both of whom wronged you in some way?”
That false bravo that Julian always managed to put on stayed in place as he didn’t hesitate to answer. “Yes.”
“But not your lover. Not your prince. Who knows and knows that you still consume vitae.”
At this Julian just nodded and managed to not look back at Micah, trying to not give away the fact that it was Micah’s one vitae that he consumed. Khalid turned his attention back to Micah. “Rare indeed. I have a few of my men outside your city who are already Camarilla sworn who are willing to swear fidelity to the Prince of New York and be used however you see fit to help strengthen and clean your city of your SI problem.”
Micah didn't want Julian to answer those questions. Not when it gave away so much. And not when it put Julian in a precarious position. But he was also a believer of allowing Julian to make his own decisions. To allow anything less than that would make him no different than Dorian.
But the fact that Khalid seemed to only want answers to those questions without explaining anything didn't sit right with Micah.
He stared at Khalid, distrust written in the lines of his face, though it considerably lessened with the offer of manpower and resources that Micah would be foolish to turn away. They were the Banu Haqim, after all.
He couldn't simply let it go, however. "Just like that?" Why would the Banu Haqim be so interested in Julian? Enough for them to make a personal trip like this. "Why are you offering this?" It couldn't be that simple. Micah didn't trust someone whose motives he couldn't read so far as he could throw them.
It was that simple though and Khalid looked at Micah like he should be able to figure that out. “Your paramour here is not different from the Banu Haqium—unable to help his addictions to the blood and looked upon with suspicion for the things they think he may have done but are unable to prove.” And the fact that it was written all over the Malkavian’s aura for any to read that was able to do so yet was still at a prince’s side spoke louder to the Judge then if Julian went into detail of why he had done it because it was Micah’s keeping him there that interested him.
“While many of my clan no longer practice one, they can not help the other at times though nowadays they are much more selective in those they take from. If they can find a more accepting home than some of the other places the Camarilla have taken us in at then they are willing to help fight for that.”
It made sense. But if the Bani Haqim didn't realize that Micah's attitude towards Julian and Julian alone may not necessarily translate to everyone else, Micah wasn't going to point it out.
He didn't say anything else for the moment. And the silence that descended upon them spoke volumes in itself.
Across the room, he caught Julian's eye. They certainly were gathering a very diverse crew of people in New York that was for sure.
"I may be more accepting to certain Kindred with that practice. But there are still rules, you understand." He addressed Khalid. "Without which it would be difficult to set us apart from those without self-control. The New York that I wish to build is a New York that is free for all Kindred. And that comes only with caution and self-control on certain… more peculiar practices."
“But of course. Something my men are more than willing to exercise restraint and caution in. They are simply looking for a place where they may not be so quickly judged for sins of the past. As I’m sure we all are,” Khalid pointed out.
Julian looked back at Micah and gave a nod of his head. Then a quick whisper across the Ventrue’s mind, “He seems sincere enough from what I can tell.”
It wasn't Julian's word that made the final decision, but needless to say, what Julian thought weighed heavily too. Micah had learned to trust Julian's ability after all this time.
He looked back at Khalid. "Then I believe we have ourselves an understanding." Standing finally from his seat, he descended the steps from the raised dais of his office and came to stand before the Banu Haqim.
"Welcome to New York."
After they were sure there’d be no more visitors for the evening, Julian had left Micah to finish up his work while the Malkavian headed to Elysium to make rounds. To see what new secrets and rumors he could pick up there. Mostly it was to make sure that no one else had managed to slip past him. He didn’t like that the Banu Haqim had managed to get past him until the last moment or the suggestion that he had been around for a couple days without the Malkavian knowing. After all, some of them were known assassins and that was the last thing he wanted slipping by him unnoticed right now.
The whole bringing up the diablerie and blood addiction had been disconcerting but it had netted them powerful allies that they needed. Still, it was on Julian’s mind when he headed home to wait for Micah to finish up his work and return to the haven for the night himself.
Julian knew before Micah even opened the door—not because he was activity searching but because he was that attuned to the other Kindred at this point. They could stand in Times Square on New Years and Julian would know just where Micah was.
“In the bedroom,” he informed the Ventrue. While he had stripped down to a pair of loose lounge pants and was laying on his stomach, pillow tucked under his head, as he normally did when Micah wasn’t in bed with him it was clear he hadn’t been sleeping, too lost in his thoughts to do so.
Micah got rid of the cloak he wore at the door and entered the room removing his cufflinks and loosening the buttons of his shirt. It had been a long night—several weeks of long nights, if he was to be honest. But it was a small comfort knowing that returning to the Haven would give him this sight; the sight of Julian lying in bed waiting for him.
He admired the view for a couple more moments—mainly the pert, round ass in those pants, to be honest. And spoke up only when it was clear Julian was too distracted with something on his mind to start anything even when Micah finally got rid of his shirt and was standing before the other dressed in only his pants.
“Thinking of something?” Though he sounded amused instead of offended.
That got Julian to lift up his eyes and let them roam up Micah’s body. He may have been distracted but it was hard to pass up the view before him. He reached out and hooked his fingers into the front of Micah’s pants and tugged, a signal that even lost in his thoughts as he was that the other was still too far away for his liking.
“What gave it away?” More an idle question than anything because Micah always knew when Julian had slipped into his own mind and was thinking about something. “I was just thinking about the Banu Haqim and him knowing. It wasn’t a problem with him but while we’re making new allies, we’re going to be stirring up old enemies. Making new ones. It makes me worry about them noticing if he could.”
Micah went willingly, pressing against Julian’s own body on the edge of the bed where the both of them were perched, meeting across a space. He trailed a hand up Julian’s back, not at all unsatisfied with the sensation of firm muscles under his touch. “You win some, you lose some.” It was the order of the world. Micah couldn’t go centuries without understanding this knowledge. There were no absolutes in their world. Only a balance.
He wasn’t too worried. But the fact that Julian was, told him that the younger Malkavian was coming into his own awareness of his place in their society. That was a good thing too. “We can’t please everyone in this world. We can only continue to make ourselves stronger.” And when they were stronger, naturally those voices with dissent would grow weaker.
Despite his thoughts and his worries, that hand up his back managed to draw a satisfied sigh from Julian. It was enough to stall his thoughts for the moment and make him reconsider what he had been thinking about. Because he had a feeling the moment that he did bring it up that the mood Micah was in right now was going to change.
For the moment he just peered at Micah with those bright blue eyes as he considered. “And I am stronger than I was. Together we’re stronger.” The Malkavian who had been worried about what his place at Micah’s side was now that he was prince not too long ago was gone. He had no more doubts about it nor did he have any lingering need of verbal reassurances from Micah himself. Julian knew.
Which is why as he laid here and had been thinking about the pros and cons of the suggestion he was going to make he couldn't come up with any cons because he couldn’t find a single one. He didn’t see a way that it was going to change a thing between them. Everything that was considered a con by others was already just the way things were between him and Micah. And Micah wasn’t Dorian.
“I think you should blood bond me to you.”
Micah froze. His fingers halted in the upward quest of Julian's back. The gravity of what Julian was asking wasn't lost on Micah. Neither was the reason why he was asking.
There were a thousand other thoughts running through his head, however. And not the least of them the why of how he, Prince of New York, was still so resistant to bind someone to him. Others would have done it for much less. Bound Julian simply for his talents and abilities alone. But Micah had resisted it for the longest possible time. Partially because he knew the ramifications. But a greater part also because he had always disliked the idea of tethering someone. Whether it was himself to someone. Or someone else to him.
"If this is all to ensure that we appear stronger, I assure you there is absolutely no need--"—” Micah didn’t get any farther before Julian reached up and placed a finger over Micah’s lips to stop him right there.
“It’s not. It’s to protect us. With a blood bond, it will mask my aura so anyone who looks too closely will only see the bond. And if I’m bonded then no one is going to think twice about me drinking from you should they find out.” Julian shifted slightly so that he could look at Micah better so that finger he placed over his lips could trail over his jaw instead. Then he flipped the question Micah had asked him the other day on to him back at him. “What do you think this would change?”
Dorian had used it as a leash, a way to control Julian, and that’s normally how it did work. It forced those things there when they didn’t exist. The bond was always talked in ways to make other Kindred fear the power it gave another over another. No one ever talked about what happened when those things already existed between two Kindred. When the one binding the other already had their loyalty, so readily submitted to them because they wanted to and trusted the other. “Tell me one thing that would change? The bond would give you nothing that’s not already there. And unless you stop letting me drink from you it’s going to end up happening anyway sooner or later by accident. I doubt we’ll even notice it exists.”
Julian paused in his words long enough to make sure he had Micah’s full attention. “You’re not Dorian. You wouldn’t be leashing me to you. I know you’d release me if I asked.” Or rather let Amadeus break the bond because unless he walked away completely, they’d never be far enough to break it on their own. “More importantly, it’s not creating something that isn’t there like it did with Dorian because I never loved or cared for Dorian in that way before the bond.”
And even though that word was finally spoken out loud, it was clear he didn’t expect it back.
But Micah heard it, loud and clear. And it wasn't something either of them could take back. Just as the bond wasn't going to be reversible. It was irrevocable.
Micah never bought into the idea of using emotion to bind someone to him. Even before he had been Kindred. It just didn't seem to make sense to him. But Julian was right about one thing. If they did this, it wasn't creating something that wasn't already there. It wasn't as if Julian would walk away from him, Micah knew that with a certainty as much as he knew the sun would rise in a couple hours. It wouldn't be changing anything. Nothing except the concept of themselves perhaps, as individuals no longer.
But they had been together in every sense of the word for far longer than Micah cared to admit.
He raised his hand to take Julian's fingers on his lips in his own. "You always have a choice," Micah stressed. But this was him giving in too. As Julian undoubtedly already knew he would.
After everything that had happened to him in the past, one would think Julian would be afraid of a new blood bond but he wasn’t. That in itself spoke of the trust and the faith he had in Micah. In what they had between them. And the fact that Micah who always put himself first always ended up breaking his own rules again and again and giving into Julian—it may have taken him some time but he had finally figured out that meant more than any words Micah could ever tell him.
“I told you once before when I had a choice that I chose you. That hasn’t changed. I still choose you. I know you’ll never try and leash me. Except when you tie me up,” he added on the last with a smirk.
Micah raised an eyebrow, his lips twitching upwards in a smirk. "Only in ways that you love." He snaked an arm around Julian's waist, dragging him closer, pressing a kiss to the top of his forehead. It was as close as Micah could get to saying those words.
Perhaps someday. Perhaps in the very distant future. But for now, they had each other.
And that’s all that mattered in the end. It was something Julian understood now. It was certainly more than he ever thought he would have. More than he ever thought would be possible for him. Which was why there was a smirk still on his lips as he settled against Micah with a sigh and then captured his lips in a kiss.
“Of course. I’d be disappointed if you didn’t. Just as I’d be disappointed if you let the fact that even though I’ve been thinking, I’ve also been laying here with a plug in so I’d be ready for you when you got home go to waste. So are you going to let me bite you so you can get around to fucking me? Or—” Julian broke off as his fingers started to trail down Micah’s hard abs in suggestion “—you could let me bite you while you fuck me.”
Micah definitely knew which of the two his libido preferred given the rather hearty response to the latter, which pressed as close to each other as they were, Micah was pretty sure Julian felt as well.
Smirk turning wicked, he kissed Julian again for good measure, savouring the taste of him--warm, relaxed, happy. And then he grabbed Julian bodily and threw him backwards onto the bed, climbing on top of the Malkavian in the same breath, straddling and pinning Julian under. "Just for your playing with fire, I ought to make sure you can't get out of bed the next couple of days." An empty threat, they both knew, since Micah could hardly afford for Julian to be out of commission for that long now given all his responsibilities. But it was all part of the game. Something they both enjoyed once in awhile.hile.
Pinned and under Micah was just where Julian wanted to be. Where he always wanted to be. “For only a couple days,” Julian questioned back. His hips strained upwards to rub against Micah as much as possible for him to do so and show him just how much in agreement his own body was to the choices that Micah was making. “When we both know that I can’t resist playing with fire and it’s the one thing I’m never going to learn not to do?” A fact that if he had resisted such a thing they might not be where they were now.
“Did I mention that I also happen to have nothing on under these pants to go along with that plug?” Honestly there were times when he wondered why he even bothered with underwear ever. Most of the time it just seemed like such an unnecessary layer between them. It also caused him to grin up at Micah because he knew he was just continuing to play with that fire.
Micah knew a thing or two about rebellious Malkavians. But Julian’s playful nature was something that Micah had actually nurtured, something he encouraged. Much as Dorian liked to lord his dominance over Julian, he hadn’t actually liked Julian to have a personality of his own. But Micah didn’t want a mindless servant. It was why it felt entirely satisfying to grab said pants and tug them off Julian after a brief effort—all in the name of inspecting Julian’s claims for himself.
“I see you speak the truth.” Most definitely approving as he turned Julian around onto his stomach. And he gave Julian’s round ass a smack for good measure, climbing on top once again. He reached for his own waistband, freeing his straining hardness and pressing it against Julian so he knew exactly what he was up for. Even as he found the promised plug and gave it a few good jolts within Julian.
Oh Julian knew and would have been extremely disappointed if he was in for anything else but what he knew to expect. But then Micah never left the Malkavian who was moaning underneath of him in pleasure at the moment disappointed. He may draw it out, make him sob and beg for it at times, but in the end he never disappointed.
“Would I ever lie about something as important as that,” he finally managed to get out. Stretching his arms out above his head, Julian rolled his hips so that he could rub against that hardness. The plug felt good. Micah’s cock was going to feel even better.
Micah toyed with the plug with one hand and made short work of his pants with the other, ridding himself of the last layer that separated him and Julian. When he was chest to Julian’s back, pressed tight so every inch of skin was plastered against Julian’s warm heat, he whispered in the typical deep baritone of his voice, “How long did you have this inside you?” He gave the toy in question a deep twist, angled so it would brush against the sweet spot inside Julian, giving the Malkavian nowhere to hide.
Micah didn’t often talk dirty. Only when he was in a mood. And clearly he was in one now.
That weight of Micah against his back, the feel of him pressed up against Julian was something he loved. It was completely pinning and left him unable to do anything about the things Micah was doing to him but of course that was part of it as well. Something that was always shown in the sounds that Micah managed to drag out of Julian just as he was dragging them out of him now.
It was completely unfair to ask Julian questions when he was toying with him like that. It took him a moment before he answered. “I got home a couple of hours before you did. Since then.” Julian let the implications of that sink in. They couldn’t really play around in Micah’s office like they used to, but this, being ready for Micah when he got home, there was something to be said for that as well.
The idea of having Julian waiting, ready for him the moment he returned, was never going to get old. In fact, hearing it was unbearably satisfactory, as in there was something deep inside that felt fulfilled at the mere thought. Micah didn't dare to examine it too closely. That way lay madness.
Instead, he focused on kneading the soft globes of Julian's ass, rubbing himself up against the tantalising crack. "I like that," he told Julian. "The idea of you waiting. Of you being just mine." It wasn't a grandiose declaration. It wasn't much by any means. But it was Micah through and through.
For Julian he found that the smaller admittances he got out of Micah during moments like this meant more anyway. The ones that got spoken right next to his ear like now. Especially when he had told Micah from the start that he was his. Had known he was, it had just changed in how. Had grown. “Always,” Julian muttered even as he melted under the feel of those hands, the glide of that hardness against him and him knowing what it led up to.
Julian turned his head so that he could capture the mouth next to his ear and then peered into those darker blue eyes. “Let me take from you this time from your throat. Let the bite that seals the bond be from there.”
Micah nodded against Julian, so the Malkavian could plainly feel his agreement. He tapped Julian gently on his hip, then let up so he could turn over on his back.
Like this, staring into each other's eyes. It was almost too much. But this was the way they had been for a long time now, even if Micah's habit was to deny it. He fit himself into the space between Julian's legs, staring right into those blue orbs. It wasn't anything they hadn't done before, but knowing what it would mean this time made all the difference. He nudged the toy out of Julian, pleased at how little resistance there was, how little discomfort it caused Julian. And he leaned forward, arch of his neck exposed, even as he pushed inside Julian's warm heat and began to move in a slow, unhurried rhythm. "Do it," he murmured. "Do it as I take you too."
It was a breathy gasp of pleasure that escaped past Julian’s lips as Micah entered him. As he ran his own hands up the strong muscled back of him until one hand rested on Micah’s shoulder and the fingers of his other sliding up to mess up the hair that had stayed perfectly in place all day until now. Slowly unraveling the Ventrue piece by piece.
And that’s how Julian stayed as he held on and moved to the offered neck, his fangs biting down into the offered flesh as Micah took him. The taste of Micah was familiar on his tongue and sliding down his throat, but the Kiss from Micah’s neck was more intimate than the wrist ever would be. Somehow like this it tasted sweeter and Julian couldn’t help the low moan in his throat as he drank.
Micah hissed. But it wasn't in pain. This was the meeting of two kindred in the most carnal, most intimate way since time immemorial. And he realised that despite all of his initial reservations, this was indeed something he wanted. Something he needed.
"Julian." It was the name of the one he had bound and was similarly bonded to now. He repeated that name again on his tongue. And again. In time to his domineering thrusts, the cadence of their body's gyrations.
"You're mine."
Julian felt the bond take hold but it was different this time. He didn’t feel like he was suddenly leashed or tied down like he had with Dorian. There was no loss of his sense of self or that he had to give over to another. There was simply a deeper awareness of Micah. Of being connected to him. This—Julian was able to realize—was what the bond was meant to be when it was used between two kindred who already held a connection that was deeper than the Blood could force upon them.
Running his tongue up over the fangs marks he left behind in Micah’s flesh and catching any last drops of blood that fell from them before they closed, Julian caught Micah’s mouth in a searing kiss before he answered back.
“Yours. Always.”