[PRP] When The Past Keeps Knocking. (PB, Micky, EvRi & LB)

[Kinu]

The club was relatively quiet as Pretty Boy lounged in his favorite booth, briefly going over some numbers Odette had thrust at him the night before. He wanted to put it off but knew she'd murder him if he didn't just get it over with. His elbow rested on the table, hand cradeling his head while his fingers absently rubbed at his temple. He hated the numbers part. It wasn't that he sucked at math so much as he just didn't have the patience to sit there and stare at the page and care about them, it was boring s**t. A cigarette hung loosly from his lips as he frowned at the bottom line for a second. That didn't look right. Wait... two line items down and the colorful males lips curved into a smirk. There we go. Much better.

They were doing well, really well. Making it an Elysium spot had more than doubled their take as clan vamps had now gotten a taste for The Sin Bin and had begun to frequent. They still didn't make up the bulk of patrons however, it seemed there was a boom in clanless numbers recently which was really the source of their steady revenue generation. Older clanned vampires really liked the VIP rooms as well which, he had to admit, helped sweeten the take even more. They kept the hosts busy with their requests and that was just fine, they'd pay for every one. Ancient vampires had deep, sometimes bottomless pockets. He was happy to lighten their burden.

Pretty Boy gave a quick sign off and leaned back in the booth, his gaze drifting to the empty stage which caused his brows to crease lightly, his fingers coming up to slip the cigarette from his lips while he exhaled a plume of smoke. The band was going to need to go on tour soon, they already had several venues reaching out to ask when they'd be returning. Apparently some of their fans were getting restless. That was just fine by him. They could ask for more compensation for performances, bring that money into the Bin, everyone could feel cushy.

The club wouldn't be open for several more hours but he found it was kind of nice just sitting there. He'd turned some background music on since he hated absolute silence, but the lack of people was a bit of a reprieve. No one asking him for anything, no drama, no pressure. Just the club. To be honest it was the first moment, aside from reuiniting with Micky and hanging out in the booth with the crew the night of the reopening, that made him feel... relaxed. Normal. Like himself again.

He gave a long stretch as he slid out of the booth, gathering the paperwork to slide under Odette's office door. Making his way to the bar he stopped to lean over the counter, snatching the clipboard below for counts and setting the papers on the bar top to collect once he was done. Could he have had the bar staff do this? Yes. Did the bar staff usually stay on top of it? Absolutely. He honestly was just doing it to fill time and because it could be fairly relaxing. It reminded him of the old days. PB leaned back over the counter, clipboard in one hand and pen in the other as he started to count the bottles on the lower shelf.

Seussi

 

[Seussi]

Since the Sin Bin's reopening and his subsequent reunion with a certain colourful vampire from his past, Micky had found himself busier than ever. It wasn't just his duties as Sheriff that kept him run off his feet, however, but also some restructuring in the Brujah clan, the return of another familiar face from his past, and continuing pressure to prove he'd been promoted to Elder for a reason. It might have been enough to break someone with a greater mental capacity, but not Micky. He took things in stride and had always been able to parse out his obligations in order of most pressing to least. He didn't get bogged down in the what-ifs and didn't bother worrying over everything that could go wrong. That just wasn't his style. It never had been and never would be.

So where did that leave him now? Well, he'd recently done some recruiting for the clan, which he figured would satisfy the new Disciple. For the Prince, he had dutifully done whatever task she'd set out for him, including his time spent at The Sin Bin, taking responsibility for those from the clans who used the club as an Elysium while also making sure it was safe for them to do so.

So far, thankfully, there'd been no real issues to speak of.

Whenever Micky couldn't be around, he'd asked Gramsci to send a couple of Hounds in his stead. But he tried to be at the club as often as he could manage. But that wasn't just for duty, of course. The Elder also had ulterior motives.

And he was admiring that motive now, having found his evening free to arrive at the club hours earlier than he would have typically needed to. His lilac gaze was bright as he entered the nearly deserted club, a smile already on pale lips as he moved across the floor, eyes locked on their target.

Pretty Boy. Barely a moment could pass where the gorgeous musician wasn't on Micky's mind. The colourful vampire filled his thoughts and hastened his approach as Micky made his way toward him, the smile growing ever wider as he neared.

"Heya, Peebs." He was grinning now, eyes shining with a mix of joy and amusement. He'd stopped at the bar and leaned an elbow against it, his chin resting against a closed fist, while his free hand came up, his claw tips casually tapping out a beat against the surface of the bar.

"Hope I'm not interrupting anything important. I know how much fun counting can be."

Actually, he didn't think it was fun at all. But that was ok; he figured he'd be able to persuade Pretty Boy into doing other activities instead soon enough. He just had to keep leaning against this bar, looking as attractive as he could.

Yep. That was the plan.

Kinu

 

[Kinu]

Pretty Boy had a rhythm established in his counts, the beat of the music made it easy to zip along as he reviewed the bars inventory. Stretched out over the bartop with his focus heavily on the task at hand he hadn't heard Micky enter until the Elder's voice broke the silence. PB's brows shot up for a split second in surprise until he realized who it was, his expression quickly becoming a mix between humored and pleased. Micky had been busy so he hadn't been around as often lately. The Brujah would be gone for lengths of time, sure, but he also tried to visit as much as he could manage. They made it work. Hell Pretty Boy had also been busy so he understood. The club was eating up a lot of his time, not to mention the band and planning their next tour. So he didn't sweat them, the periods when they couldn't be together, even if he missed having his presence around more than he would admit.

They'd been keeping it kind of casual, knowing full well they both had a lot of s**t on their plates and plenty of prior commitments to sort out. As much as he wanted Micky around more often he wasn't going to try to lock him down, he wasn't the type to do that to anyone. He just didn't know for sure if Micky would ever want what they had to take a more serious turn and them being back in one anothers lives was still new. So he tabled it. Even as the voice in the back of his mind kept nagging him to at least think about it. PB was honestly just happy to have him around again. He could settle for just having him back in his life. The voice would just have to chill out. It wasn't the right time for this serious s**t. He was getting ahead of himself. He'd have blamed it on how adorable Micky looked at the end of the bar but knew that was a cheap move.

Reconnecting meant really accepting the other males heavy involvement in clan affairs and he had, if it made the Brujah happy he wasn't going to be a d**k about it. Luckily for him he'd managed to make it work to their benefit. Blessed Elysium, any excuse to visit The Sin Bin was definitely looked at as business by the clans. It kept the big players in Micky's life from asking why he hung around at a club so often. Not that anyone really seemed to care anyway. Thankfully. The lithe vampire lifted his head, long hair pooling around him, and turned his face to aknowledge the Brujah. Pretty Boy gave him a smirk, quirking a brow with an air of disbelief. "Counting is fun, huh?" He responded, knowing full well Micky was just being cute. "Well then. Why dont you come on over here and count some of this s**t. I wouldn't want to hog all the fun."

The brightly colored male laughed low, the smoky edge to his voice saturating the tone. His eyes drank in the sight of the Elder slowly, he didn't have to try to look attractive by any means but for some reason Pretty Boy found it endearing when he did put on a little extra pizzaz to get his attention. He felt a flash of heat in his belly and rolled back onto his stomach to slide the clipboard under the counter. He hadn't moved off the bar quite yet however, choosing to stay there and enjoy the sight of Micky for just a few seconds longer from where he was laying. He'd managed to roll onto his side again which only made his torso seem longer, the assortment of necklaces draped around his neck brushing the bartop. "But dont really. Count I mean."

Sometimes, hell most times, Micky would take a suggestion literally. He didn't need him suddenly knee deep in inventory counts. There was much better s**t they could be involving themselves in. "I was just doing it to kill time." He pushed himself up and crawled toward Micky on all fours, his body moving fluidly. Once he reached the pale furred vampire he took a seat in front of him, slipping his legs on either side of that enticing body while he leaned his torso back, arms propping him up so he could enjoy the sight before him.

Micky was gorgeous, somehow it always caught him off guard just how beautiful he was. Pretty Boy gave him a wicked grin and cocked his head to the side, his long hair falling across his eyes. "But maybe you have a better suggestion?" If Micky didn't get the hint it was just as easy to spell it out for him. It didn't bother PB if he had to. He'd get explicit. That was the price of not picking up on the cues. It was also just more fun to get creative and see what kind of reaction Micky had to it. Sometimes the responses were absolute gold.

Seussi

 

[Seussi]

He hadn’t meant to take Pretty Boy by surprise, having expected the other vampire to glance over and see him before he even got to the bar. But, between the music and concentrating on inventory, it seemed the Elder had gone unnoticed, and his grin widened when the clanless man turned and glanced his way. Subconsciously, just meeting Pretty Boy’s gaze seemed to make Micky’s power flare, his raw appeal becoming just that little bit stronger in response. It wasn’t necessary, he knew. He was careful a good portion of the time not even to exercise it. Even in a moment like this, the vampire was only really trying to draw attention to himself and nothing more. Harmless, really.

Lilac eyes that practically shimmered drank in the vision before him, enjoying every dip and curve, every swell of muscle. His admiration was open and unashamed, his teeth pulling in his lower lip as he appreciated the view with profound longing.

“Hm?” He said, blinking away the lust-filled haze from his eyes, trying to comprehend the words that Pretty Boy had just spoken. “Fun? Oh, ya, definitely.” He nodded, still smiling. Wait, what had he said that prompted this response? Oh, right. Counting is fun. Moronic. Still, he kept up appearances, the smile only finally slipping when Pretty Boy asked him to come and do some of the counting for him. s**t, really? It was impossible to hide his distaste at the thought, his nose wrinkling. He was just about to open his mouth and reply that he much preferred watching Pretty Boy do it when the laughter stopped him, the sort of laughter that was dusky and low and sent a thrill racing along the elder’s spine.

“Oh, thank Grendel.” The Elder rolled his eyes skyward and heaved a sigh, his shoulders slumping forward just a little. “Because you know, I don’t really think counting is fun, Peebs. It’s actually boring as ********.”

And now it seemed as though Pretty Boy was finished with it, which was fantastic because Micky really had not come just to help with inventory. He just wanted to see Pretty Boy, his train of thought often distracted by memories of a simmering, multi-hued gaze and his voice's low, dusky tenor. Now that they had come back into each other's lives, all Micky wanted was to be with him, be near him, and relearn ways to make the colourful, clanless vampire happy.

His gaze had dropped back to him stretched along the bar, and he couldn’t help the heat that flared deep in his belly when he looked at Pretty Boy, and when he began to crawl toward him, the smile came back to his lips just as desire sparked to life in his gaze once more. By the time Pretty Boy reached him and had slipped a leg to either side of Micky, the Brujah was almost undone, as he wanted nothing more than to crawl up onto that bar with him, slip a hand behind his head and kiss him with the fervent passion that swelled within his chest.

He was so beautiful, though. For a moment, all Micky could do was stare at him and wonder at how they had managed to find themselves back here again, almost as if they had never been apart at all. Almost…but not quite. There was still something between them that seemed to hold them both back. At least, that was how it felt to Micky, who somehow managed to keep himself carefully restrained as if moving too fast might shatter this thing that they were just beginning to have once again.

“I can think of a few things.” He admitted, his voice becoming breathy as he looked down at the vampire stretched out in front of him, eyes roaming over a body he once knew so well. He might be daft, but he knew what he wanted. But then there was the hesitancy, the stalling of his brain, the sudden question of: Wait, is that what Pretty Boy wants, or does he want to do something else?.

Micky suddenly cleared his throat and glanced away, breaking eye contact lest he do or say something stupid…which was quite a common occurrence.
“I mean, I guess we could, uh…dust shelves or something.” He mumbled as he succumbed to the sudden wave of self-doubt.

Kinu

 

[Kinu]

Pretty Boy kept his two-toned gaze on the pale vampire in front of him, giving another low, smokey chuckle as he confirmed exactly what PB had assumed. No, counting wasn't fun. It was boring as ********, as Micky had so succinctly put it. "No s**t. But someone has to make sure this club has enough booze to keep the cash flowing. I could sell my a** but I'm too lazy to put out for that many people every night." His smile made his eyelids relax halfway, giving him an almost intimate expression as he leaned up and reached to brush the hair from Micky's eyes with the tips of his claws. It was cute how the Elder bit his lower lip, he watched as the other blinked away the brief shimmer of lust in that glowing lilac gaze and couldn't help but give his body a little stretch back again, exposing his toned, lithe abdomen even more to the male between his legs. It was only fair to dish out some visuals as retribution, considering the Brujah couldn't seem to keep a tighter lid on his allure. Plus, he just enjoyed ******** with him. Micky was cute when he was turned on, or flustered, or all of the above.

There was an ache deep in his chest, a yearning to just pull him up on top of the bar and across his body for a good, long makeout session right there in the open. It's not like anyone was around at the moment, everyone seemed to have ******** off to party, or relax, or do their own making out in their rooms. Not like he would really care anyway if anyone they knew saw them. But tonight was unusually quiet, not a peep or a stir from staff or band or anyone really aside from Micky. That suited him just fine. He liked the quiet nights in the club, felt a personal swell of pride in taking care of tasks himself. It made him feel connected to something. Like he finally had roots. But now that Micky was back in the picture things had changed. It wasn't just the bar and the band that were the most important things in his life anymore. Micky was as well and he had every intention of letting him know that, of showing him. He wanted him in his life for good. Whatever they could make work.

The clanless male rolled his head from side to side, reaching an arm up to massage the muscle at the crook of his neck before his gaze rolled back to Micky and he smirked, lips parting as the words he spoke next rolled sensually off his tongue. "Oh can you now? Care to let me in on those things or would you rather show me instead?" He liked the way the other vampire was looking at him, the way his eyes roved his body. It was like wherever they went they left a tingling desire across his skin in response. PB's hand slid down his torso, coming to rest on his own thigh while he considered the male at the end of the bar. The smoldering heat of his mismatched eyes drinking in every tantalizing inch. Micky had always been impressive, even back in the day. From the minute PB had seen him for the first time, to the first kiss they'd shared, and even that first night they'd ended up in bed together, there was an inexplicable draw he felt to the Brujah and it had nothing to do with his sexy magic. Then came a suggestion Pretty Boy immediately recognized as hesitation, even... doubt? It threw him off. His expression shifted from playful to confused, a brow raising as he followed Micky's line of sight momentarily. Dust shelves? What the hell?

PB turned back to look at him, his expression softening again with mild concern. What was that about? He scooted closer and reached his hand out, his fingers sliding beneath Micky's chin, turning his face back towards him before the palm of that same hand slid to his cheek. He smiled reassuringly, his eyes full of warmth. "Hey, you all right?" His smoky voice almost purred, calming and relaxed. "Look Micky, this is a new start for both of us. But a lot of s**t has gone down since the last time we were together... like that. We don't have to do anything if you aren't ready. I mean I'd much rather drag you off to bed than dust some goddamn shelves but if dusting shelves would make you happy we can just do that instead. As long as I get to be with you." He leaned forward, his long hair falling over his shoulders as his lips pressed against Micky's. He felt his chest swell with a feeling of euphoria, a strong burning desire shooting through his core and pooling into his lower belly. He was so involved in kissing Micky he hadn't heard yet another person wander in.



The pale pastel male stood in the doorway, his eyes narrowed judgementally as he surveyed his surroundings from the comfort of a hoodie, a lone duffle bag gripped at his side. A single word broke the silence, rude, pointed and bored. "Gaaaaaay." Lover Boy said suddenly, his voice carrying across the dance floor towards the two males at the bar. Awesome. First time he had seen his brother in years and this was what he got to walk in on. Gross.

Pretty Boy froze. His eyes widening a moment as his head came up and he turned his face towards the figure. What. The. ********. "Lover Boy?" He breathed the question, his chest suddenly tight. This wasn't expected. He hadn't seen his youngest brother in years... he honestly wasn't sure if he'd ever see him again. Now, like a ghost risen from the grave, there he was. ******** great. What next?

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