[RL with Zechs | Backdated to 22nd]

[bare_my_fangs]

Michael was royally pissed. It had just been one thing after another for the past week - "Oh, by the way? We decided not to chip you." - and then to top it all off, this goddamn virus had to happen. He was in a bad mood already when some idiot thought they could pretend to be his brother, so this whole thing with Zechs was the last fucking straw

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[thricedeadwind]

The apartment was quiet, at least in the entrance hall. When Michael first walked in, maybe it would seem as if the place was empty all together. The place was enveloped in darkness; there weren't lights appearing under the doorways off the hall, nor was there a light on in the living room at the end. The only source of illumination was some scant early afternoon light from the picture window in the living room, peeking through the closed, large venetian blinds.

Then, there was a sudden crash from the bedroom.

Zechs was furious. Unfortunately for him, after being told repeatedly of his 'idiocy' and how 'suicidal' finding his husband was, he also was halfway to becoming completely drunk off his ass. In the far corner of the bedroom was a broken computer chair, and nearby were the remains of a glass. Now he had sent a lamp careening after it. He stood, shoulders heaving with breath as his mind raced. Tyki. Helpless. The Earl. Exorcists. Tyki. Helpless. Useless.

UselessThe bottle of bourbon was in one hand. His suit jacket was slung

[bare_my_fangs]

Well. That made things easier for him.

Michael was down the hallway before the sounds of the crash had even faded. He shoved the bedroom door open, any remaining control over his temper long gone, and stepped into the room, ignoring the way it bounced violently off the wall. He walked in just in time to see Zechs draw back to throw what looked like a mug and he couldn't help but snort in disgust.

"Wow. It's even more pathetic than I first thought."

[thricedeadwind]

The mug was dropped on the ground, spilling ash and cigarette butts everywhere, when the door crashed open. Zechs reached into his holster and pulled out his gun, whipping it around and pointing it on Michael by the time the boy made his mocking observation. His bottle sloshed in his other hand, but did not spill.

Just as quickly as he had drawn the firearm, Zechs lowered the gun when his eyes saw who his intruder was. Safety still on, he threw the weapon onto the bed, on top of his jacket. Perhaps he wasn't really thinking clearly. Perhaps he really was drunk. But, intentional or not, disarming himself in front of Michael wasn't something he'd thought he'd do even a month ago.

"What in the hells are you doing here, boy?" Zechs growled, speech at least clear at the moment.

[bare_my_fangs]

Michael watched with interest as Zechs threw his gun to the side. If he were any less angry, he probably would have seen that move for what it was, seeing as Zechs had never willingly disarmed himself around Michael before. As it was, Michael only noted the movement as an automatic reaction to any potential danger to himself.

He rolled his eyes. "Don't ask duch fucking stupid questions, Zechs. I'm here to make sure you don't do anything stupid." He glanced around the room pointedly. "Well. Anything else stupid and I swear if you call me 'boy' one more time I will fucking deck your sorry ass."