Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/5049220.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Rape/Non-Con, Underage
  Category:
      F/M, M/M
  Fandom:
      Mortal_Instruments_Series_-_Cassandra_Clare
  Relationship:
      Clary_Fray/Jace_Lightwood, Clary_Fray/Simon_Lewis, Magnus_Bane/Alec
      Lightwood
  Character:
      Clary_Fray, Jace_Lightwood, Simon_Lewis, Alec_Lightwood, Magnus_Bane,
      Isabelle_Lightwood
  Additional Tags:
      Canon_Rewrite, Het, Slash, Rape, Violence, Drama, Angst
  Series:
      Part 1 of City_of_Bones_Gone_Wrong
  Collections:
      Jax's_Mortal_Instruments_Smutfics
  Stats:
      Published: 2015-10-22 Chapters: 5/5 Words: 20364
****** Love Will Destroy Us All ******
by Prince_Charmont
Summary
     Total canon rewrite from the greenhouse first kiss scene. Basically,
     what would have happened if they'd more than kissed that night? The
     fallout from their actions causes repressed feelings to explode,
     wonderful & terrible things to happen, & lives to be changed forever.
     Lemons with plot. Warnings: explicit sex, language, violence, and a
     rape scene. Like I said, repressed emotions.
***** Together *****
A/N: If you like the fic, pleaseee leave a review/comment! Even if it's just
one word, I'd really appreciate it. It helps motivate and encourage me to keep
writing. I am accepting requests for what I should write next. This story was
originally just a Clace oneshot, but a reader commented asking me to write what
happened the next morning and if someone walked in on them, so that's how it
turned into an actual story. I also wanna just give a general caveat letting
the readers know that things get darker after the first chapter, so if you just
want happy smut, first chapter is good, and if you like slash, the second half
of the third chapter is good, too. Thanks for reading! :D
Disclaimer: All of the italicized text in the beginning is taken verbatim out
of City of Bones, and thus is the property of Cassandra Clare, as are all of
the characters and world. I've only used her original material in the hopes of
creating a more realistic feel to the story. 100% for fun and nothing more.
===============================================================================
She was just reaching for the sketchpad under the pillow when a knock sounded
on the door.
She padded barefoot across the room and turned the doorknob quietly. It was
Jace. Clean, in jeans and a gray shirt, his washed hair a halo of damp gold.
The bruises on his face were already fading from purple to faint gray, and his
hands were behind his back.
"Were you asleep?" he asked. There was no contrition in his voice, only
curiosity.
"No." Clary stepped out into the hallway, pulling the door shut behind her.
"Why would you think that?"
He eyed her baby blue cotton tank top and sleep shorts set. "No reason."
"I was in bed most of the day," she said, which was technically true. Seeing
him, her jitter level had shot up about a thousand percent, but she saw no
reason to share that information. "What about you? Aren't you exhausted?"
He shook his head. "Much like the postal service, demon hunters never sleep.
'Neither snow nor rain nor heat nor gloom of night stays these—'"
"You'd be in major trouble if gloom of night did stay you," she pointed out.
He grinned. Unlike his hair, his teeth weren't perfect. An upper incisor was
slightly, endearingly chipped.
She gripped her elbows. It was chilly in the hallway and she could feel goose
bumps starting up her arms. "What are you doing here, anyway?"
"'Here' as in your bedroom or 'here' as in the great spiritual question of our
purpose here on this planet? If you're asking whether it's all just a cosmic
coincidence or there's a greater meta-ethical purpose to life, well, that's a
puzzler for the ages. I mean, simple ontological reductionism is clearly a
fallacious argument, but—"
"I'm going back to bed." Clary reached for the doorknob.
He slid nimbly between her and the door. "I'm here," he said, "because Hodge
reminded me it was your birthday."
Clary exhaled in exasperation. "Not until tomorrow."
"That's no reason not to start celebrating now."
She eyed him. "You're avoiding Alec and Isabelle."
He nodded. "Both of them are trying to pick fights with me."
"For the same reason?"
"I couldn't tell." He glanced furtively up and down the hallway. "Hodge, too.
Everyone wants to talk to me. Except you. I bet you don't want to talk to me."
"No," said Clary. "I want to eat. I'm starving."
He brought his hand out from behind his back. In it was a slightly crumpled
paper bag. "I sneaked some food from the kitchen when Isabelle wasn't looking."
Clary grinned. "A picnic? It's a little late for Central Park, don't you think?
It's full of—"
He waved a hand. "Faeries. I know."
"I was going to say muggers," said Clary. "Though I pity the mugger who goes
after you."
"That is a wise attitude, and I commend you for it," said Jace, looking
gratified. "But I wasn't thinking of Central Park. How about the greenhouse?"
"Now? At night? Won't it be—dark?"
He smiled as if at a secret. "Come on. I'll show you."
In the half-light the big empty rooms they passed through on their way to the
roof looked as deserted as stage sets, the white-draped furniture looming up
out of the dimness like icebergs through fog.
When Jace opened the greenhouse door, the scent hit Clary, soft as the padded
blow of a cat's paw: the rich dark smell of earth and the stronger, soapy scent
of night-blooming flowers— moonflowers, white angel's trumpet, four-
o'clocks—and some she didn't recognize, like a plant bearing a star-shaped
yellow blossom whose petals were medallioned with golden pollen. Through the
glass walls of the enclosure she could see the lights of Manhattan burning like
cold jewels.
"Wow." She turned slowly, taking it in. "It's so beautiful here at night."
Jace grinned. "And we have the place to ourselves. Alec and Isabelle hate it up
here. They have allergies."
Clary shivered, though she wasn't at all cold. "What kind of flowers are
these?"
Jace shrugged and sat down, carefully, next to a glossy green shrub dotted all
over with tightly closed flower buds. "No idea. You think I pay attention in
botany class? I'm not going to be an archivist. I don't need to know about that
stuff."
"You just need to know how to kill things?"
He looked up at her and smiled. He looked like a fair-haired angel from a
Rembrandt painting, except for that devilish mouth. "That's right." He took a
napkin-wrapped package out of the bag and offered it to her. "Also," he added,
"I make a mean cheese sandwich. Try one."
Clary smiled reluctantly and sat down across from him. The stone floor of the
greenhouse was cold against her bare legs, but it was pleasant after so many
days of relentless heat. Out of the paper bag Jace drew some apples, a bar of
fruit and nut chocolate, and a bottle of water. "Not a bad haul," she said
admiringly.
The cheese sandwich was warm and a little limp, but it tasted fine. From one of
the innumerable pockets inside his jacket, Jace produced a bone-handled knife
that looked capable of disemboweling a grizzly. He set to work on the apples,
carving them into meticulous eighths. "Well, it's not birthday cake," he said,
handing her a section, "but hopefully it's better than nothing."
"Nothing is what I was expecting, so thanks." She took a bite. The apple tasted
green and cool.
"Nobody should get nothing on their birthday." He was peeling the second apple,
the skin coming away in long curling strips. "Birthdays should be special. My
birthday was always the one day my father said I could do or have anything I
wanted."
"Anything?" She laughed. "Like what kind of anything did you want?"
"Well, when I was five, I wanted to take a bath in spaghetti."
"But he didn't let you, right?"
"No, that's the thing. He did. He said it wasn't expensive, and why not if that
was what I wanted? He had the servants fill a bath with boiling water and
pasta, and when it cooled down …" He shrugged. "I took a bath in it."
Servants? Clary thought. Out loud she said, "How was it?"
"Slippery."
"I'll bet." She tried to picture him as a little boy, giggling, up to his ears
in pasta. The image wouldn't form. Surely Jace never giggled, not even at the
age of five. "What else did you ask for?"
"Weapons, mostly," he said, "which I'm sure doesn't surprise you. Books. I read
a lot on my own."
"You didn't go to school?"
"No," he said, and now he spoke slowly, almost as if they were approaching a
topic he didn't want to discuss.
"But your friends—"
"I didn't have friends," he said. "Besides my father. He was all I needed."
She stared at him. "No friends at all?"
He met her look steadily. "The first time I saw Alec," he said, "when I was ten
years old, that was the first time I'd ever met another child my own age. The
first time I had a friend."
She dropped her gaze. Now an image was forming, unwelcome, in her head: She
thought of Alec, the way he had looked at her. He wouldn't say that.
"Don't feel sorry for me," Jace said, as if guessing her thoughts, though it
hadn't been him she'd been feeling sorry for. "He gave me the best education,
the best training. He took me all over the world. London. Saint Petersburg.
Egypt. We used to love to travel." His eyes were dark. "I haven't been anywhere
since he died. Nowhere but New York."
"You're lucky," Clary said. "I've never been outside this state in my life. My
mom wouldn't even let me go on field trips to D.C. I guess I know why now," she
added ruefully.
"She was afraid you'd freak out? Start seeing demons in the White House?"
She nibbled a piece of chocolate. "There are demons in the White House?"
"I was kidding," said Jace. "I think." He shrugged philosophically. "I'm sure
someone would have mentioned it."
"I think she just didn't want me to get too far away from her. My mom, I mean.
After my dad died, she changed a lot." Luke's voice echoed in her mind. You've
never been the same since it happened, but Clary isn't Jonathan.
Jace cocked an eyebrow at her. "Do you remember your father?"
She shook her head. "No. He died before I was born."
"You're lucky," he said. "That way you don't miss him."
From anyone else it would have been an appalling thing to say, but there was no
bitterness in his voice for a change, only an ache of loneliness for his own
father. "Does it go away?" she asked. "Missing him, I mean?"
He looked at her obliquely, but didn't answer. "Are you thinking of your
mother?"
No. She wouldn't think of her mother that way. "Of Luke, actually."
"Not that that's actually his name."
He took a thoughtful bite of apple and said, "I've been thinking about him.
Something about his behavior doesn't add up—"
"He's a coward." Clary's voice was bitter. "You heard him. He won't go against
Valentine. Not even for my mother."
"But that's exactly—" A long clanging reverberation interrupted him. Somewhere,
a bell was tolling. "Midnight," said Jace, setting the knife down. He got to
his feet, holding his hand out to pull her up beside him. His fingers were
slightly sticky with apple juice. "Now, watch."
His gaze was fixed on the green shrub they'd been sitting beside, with its
dozens of shiny closed buds. She started to ask him what she was supposed to be
looking at, but he held up a hand to forestall her. His eyes were shining.
"Wait," he said.
The leaves on the shrub hung still and motionless. Suddenly one of the tightly
closed buds began to quiver and tremble. It swelled to twice its size and burst
open. It was like watching a speeded-up film of a flower blooming: the delicate
green sepals opening outward, releasing the clustered petals inside. They were
dusted with pale gold pollen as light as talcum.
"Oh!" said Clary, and looked up to find Jace watching her. "Do they bloom every
night?"
"Only at midnight," he said. "Happy birthday, Clarissa Fray."
She was oddly touched. "Thank you."
"I have something for you," he said. He dug into his pocket and brought out
something, which he pressed into her hand. It was a gray stone, slightly
uneven, worn to smoothness in spots.
"Huh," said Clary, turning it over in her fingers. "You know, when most girls
say they want a big rock, they don't mean, you know, literally a big rock."
"Very amusing, my sarcastic friend. It's not a rock, precisely. All
Shadowhunters have a witchlight rune-stone."
"Oh." She looked at it with renewed interest, closing her fingers around it as
she'd seen Jace do in the cellar. She wasn't sure, but she thought she could
see a glint of light peeking out through her fingers.
"It will bring you light," said Jace, "even among the darkest shadows of this
world and others."
She slipped it into her pocket. "Well, thanks. It was nice of you to give me
anything." The tension between them seemed to press down on her like humid air.
"Better than a bath in spaghetti any day."
He said darkly, "If you share that little bit of personal information with
anyone, I may have to kill you."
"Well, when I was five, I wanted my mother to let me go around and around
inside the dryer with the clothes," Clary said. "The difference is, she didn't
let me."
"Probably because going around and around inside a dryer can be fatal," Jace
pointed out, "whereas pasta is rarely fatal. Unless Isabelle makes it."
The midnight flower was already shedding petals. They drifted toward the floor,
glimmering like slivers of starlight. "When I was twelve, I wanted a tattoo,"
Clary said. "My mom wouldn't let me have that, either."
Jace didn't laugh. "Most Shadowhunters get their first Marks at twelve. It must
have been in your blood."
"Maybe. Although I doubt most Shadowhunters get a tattoo of Donatello from the
Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles on their left shoulder."
Jace looked baffled. "You wanted a turtle on your shoulder?"
"I wanted to cover my chicken pox scar." She pulled the strap of the tank top
aside slightly, showing the star-shaped white mark at the top of her shoulder.
"See?"
He looked away. "It's getting late," he said. "We should go back downstairs."
Clary pulled her strap back up awkwardly. As if he wanted to see her stupid
scars.
The next words tumbled out of her mouth without any volition on her part. "Have
you and Isabelle ever—dated?"
Now he did look at her. The moonlight leached the color out of his eyes. They
were more silver than gold now. "Isabelle?" he said blankly.
"I thought—" Now she felt even more awkward. "Simon was wondering."
"Maybe he should ask her."
"I'm not sure he wants to," Clary said. "Anyway, never mind. It's none of my
business."
He smiled unnervingly. "The answer is no. I mean, there may have been a time
when one or the other of us considered it, but she's almost a sister to me. It
would be strange."
"You mean Isabelle and you never—"
"Never," said Jace.
"She hates me," observed Clary.
"No, she doesn't," he said, to her surprise. "You just make her nervous,
because she's always been the only girl in a crowd of adoring boys, and now she
isn't anymore."
"But she's so beautiful."
"So are you," said Jace, "and very different from how she is, and she can't
help but notice that. She's always wanted to be small and delicate, you know.
She hates being taller than most boys."
Clary said nothing to this, because she had nothing to say. Beautiful. He'd
called her beautiful. Nobody had ever called her that before, except her
mother, which didn't count. Mothers were required to think you were beautiful.
She stared at him.
"We should probably go downstairs," he said again. She was sure she was making
him uncomfortable with the staring, but she didn't seem to be able to stop.
"All right," she said finally. To her relief, her voice sounded normal.
For a moment, Clary almost thought Jace had been going to kiss her. When he had
told her she was beautiful, it seemed spontaneous, not calculated. It seemed as
though it surprised him nearly as much as it had surprised her when he'd said
it. They'd been leaning close to each other, their faces moving closer
together, but when she said nothing back, his eyes grew colder, and that's when
he abruptly pulled away. She was confused and wondered if it had been because
of the fact that she'd said nothing back that caused him to become distant
again.
Jace said nothing while he swiftly gathered everything from their picnic area
and put it all back into the paper bag. Holding it in his right hand, he
grabbed Clary's with his left and began to descend the stairs. This gesture
startled Clary after what had just happened, but she quickly recovered, her
attention shifting, as she became hyperaware of what his hand felt like in
hers.
As Clary grudgingly descended the stairs after Jace, she held tightly onto his
hand. She didn't want to lose the exhilarating feeling his skin on hers
created. Her whole body buzzed and tingled with the electricity between them,
and she felt like she was going mad with longing. Clary was frustrated that
their moment had ended so abruptly and wondered if she had misread the
situation.
'Doesn't he want me, too?' She worried. 'Wasn't he just going to kiss me?'
She hadn't fully let herself acknowledge the feelings she had for him before,
partly because he was such a pompous jerk, and partly because she was so
utterly petrified of him. She was afraid that the cocky asshole exterior wasn't
actually an act, afraid that she would just become another trophy for his
collection. From what Isabelle and Alec had told her, Jace didn't lie about
anything, not even the sundry previous conquests he flaunted before her. All of
the kills he'd made, all of the things he'd done that he always bragged about,
every self-satisfied comment he'd made was true. She secretly loved their
biting verbal sparring, but didn't know if he actually meant the cruel things
he said so tauntingly with that s mug smirk of his.
Nevertheless, despite her apprehension, she couldn't help the fact that her
heart raced every time he stood just a bit too close to her. She couldn't help
the fact that she continued to hope he'd go out of his way to brush against her
ever so slightly each time they passed one another. She couldn't help the fact
that she wanted him so. fucking. bad. So, after rapidly cycling through her
feelings of doubt and uncertainty, she felt herself back where she had started:
disappointed that he hadn't made a move. After all, they were supposed to be
celebrating her birthday, right?
Just as they reached the bottom of the spiral staircase in the greenhouse,
however, as though he had read her mind, pulled Clary toward him domineeringly
and kissed her with such an overwhelming feeling of desperation that she felt
like was melting into him. She flung her arms around his neck, thrusting her
hands into his messy blonde hair, grabbing handfuls of it forcefully, and
gripping his head so it wouldn't move away. He let his hands run down her sides
and over her ass, pausing only for a moment to grope it while grinding into
her, then moved his hands right under her thighs, lifted her up onto him, and
slammed her back into the center of the metal staircase.
She broke the kiss and threw her head back, eyes closed, moaning loudly as fire
shot through her veins when she felt his erection pressing urgently through
their clothes right at her entrance. She wrapped her legs around him, drawing
him closer to him as he ravenously devoured her neck. He started gyrating his
hips, which drove them both wild, soft grunts escaping their throats, tension
building so intensely they knew they wouldn't be able to handle it much longer.
Clary's right arm reached up behind her and she caught hold of a rod on the
staircase, gripping it like her life depended upon it, keeping her left arm
firmly around Jace's neck, and holding his head as his mouth moved down from
her neck, to her collar bones, then to the exposed middle of her chest. When
she felt like she couldn't take it anymore, she panted, "Ja-" but he finished
her thought before she could get out the rest of his name. He spun around,
holding her tightly from underneath with his left arm while agilely dropping to
his knees and laying her down on the ground, supporting himself above her with
his other arm. In split seconds, he had removed his gray shirt and her blue
tank top, and though he had had the intention of removing the rest of their
clothing at that same moment, the sight of her in nothing but her bra,
beautiful breasts half exposed under the tantalizing white lace, made him
forget everything else. He bent over and buried his face between her breasts,
kissing every inch of exposed skin, while cupping each one in his hands. She
giggled at how much he was enjoying her chest and let her hands explore his
head and strong shoulders.
Jace seemed to decide that he needed more of her flesh in his mouth. In one
graceful move, he shoved an arm under her, lifted her up off the ground
slightly, undid her bra clasp expertly with his fingers, and then forcefully
ripped the bra off of her, leaving her completely exposed under his gaze. She
loved how dominant he was with her. Each move he made caused her breath to
catch in her throat slightly. His eyes widened, taking in the sight of her pale
breast rising and falling with anticipation. He glanced up at her for a moment,
mouth slightly open as he breathed heavily through it, then he squeezed her
tits together rapaciously as he bent over and took her right nipple into his
mouth. Clary cried out when he did this, half in surprise, half in pleasure.
She had moved her bare feet to the floor, knees bent, when he had placed
himself over her, but she locked her legs around him again when he moved to the
other nipple. He arched his back to press his hard-on further into her shorts.
She felt the material start to push inside of her.
Although Clary was thoroughly enjoying the shameless young Shadowhunter
ravishing her, he suddenly stopped and lifted his head to look at her. She
furrowed her brow and shot him an inquisitive and slightly frustrated look, but
when she saw the lust in his eyes as he stared fervently at her, she felt
another jolt of arousal surge through her body and bit her lip seductively. He
took that as the go-ahead and quickly unbuttoned and unzipped his jeans. She
helped him push down both his pants and boxer briefs at the same time. His
enormous length whipped out in front of him, finally free from the restrictive
cloth. The sight of him turned her on so much that her hand immediately covered
his tip and began to massage him, making him groan loudly, his face contorting
violently as waves of fervor erupted in him. Before he completely lost himself
in the sensation, however, Jace knocked her hand aside and tore off the rest of
her clothes.
His gaze passed over her naked body with immense desire (he had never wanted
anything so badly before in his life), but then he looked up into Clary's
bright green eyes and smiled softly at her. He wanted to reassure her that it
wouldn't be empty or meaningless. That he wasn't just using her like he had so
many others in the past, that he wasn't lost in a sea of intoxication, but
right there with her. It was more than that for him this time. He wanted more
than that with her, and that terrified him. But he was never one to run from
that which frightened him. It wasn't the Shadowhunter way. He leaned back over
her gently and kissed her sweetly on the lips.
"You're breathtaking." He whispered in her ear.
She pulled him to her and hugged him tightly, reveling in the feeling of his
skin on hers and the mix of wonderful new emotions she was experiencing. Relief
washed over her; she felt like she could finally let her guard down with him
completely. Clary barely knew Jace, but every inch of her wanted to tell him
that she loved him, that she needed him, that she wanted him. She kissed him
passionately, signaling him that she was ready. He slid his hand down
delicately over her body, tasting her with his fingertips. When he reached her
mound, he let his finger move lightly over her hood and lips, parting them
slightly, grinning devilishly at how he could feel her wetness just from that.
She was wetter than any girl he'd been with before, and he was harder than he
had ever been before.
Without breaking the kiss, he grabbed his shaft at the base and positioned
himself at her opening. He moved her outer lips aside and slid his head up to
her clit, rubbing it with her slickness. She writhed under him in ecstasy, but
within a minute, neither of them could stand it any longer. She helped guide
him back down with her hips, and he slowly started to push into her. The entire
tip of his cock hadn't even entered her, but they were already moaning in
bliss. He continued to slide into her, not wanting to miss a second of
experiencing this moment, not wanting it to end, savoring each sensation of her
warm walls closing in around him. She was just a girl, but she felt like a
woman to him. "Clary…" He moaned.
She grunted in response as she felt him move all the way inside of her. She had
always been very sensitive and could feel him throbbing. They both marveled at
the intimacy between the two of them; it felt like they fit perfectly together,
like they had been made for one another. Jace started to pull out slowly but
her suction around him was so good he didn't think he could bear going slow for
much longer. Clary seemed to be thinking the same thing because when he was
almost at her entrance again, she brought his ear to her mouth and breathed,
"fuck me," in such a tone that made Jace completely lose control. He plunged
into her and they both cried out noisily, not even aware of their surroundings
any longer.
The world had fallen away and all that existed now was the two of them. Nothing
else mattered anymore. The building could catch fire, and they wouldn't even
notice. Jace pulled back out swiftly and rammed himself back into her with all
his might; she practically screamed. She moved her hips in time with his to
help make the impact all the more intense. They were picking up speed now,
Clary clawing at his back, Jace thrusting into her savagely. They were so
thirsty for each other that they didn't care how rough they'd gotten. Clary had
started moaning,
"Yeah, oh, fuck yeah! Fuck me, Jace! Fuck my pussy! I want to feel your
dick penetrating me!"
"Oh, fuck, Clary. You feel so fucking good." He grunted back.
"Do you like how I feel? Do you like being inside of me?"
"Oh, God, yeah. You're so fucking tight. You make me so fucking hard."
It was getting harder to speak at this point. Between pants and groans Clary
said,
"You have - no idea - what you do to me, Jace… You make me - so fucking horny -
whenever I see you… You just - have to be - standing next to me - and I
instantly - become wet… All - I can think about - is you fucking me… I can't -
concentrate -on anything… I can't – breathe - when you're around… I need
your sex." Jace groaned and seemed to slam into her even harder when she said
this. 'God, he's sexy,' she thought.
"I've wanted - you so - fucking bad - from the - first moment - I saw you,
Clary," He responded. "That night - I couldn't - stop - thinking about you… I
jacked off - four times - before I passed out from exhaustion… Every night
since then - I've dreamed about - sliding my cock - into your wet pussy -
fucking you - cumming in you - owning you… You're mine, Clary… You're mine..."
"I'm yours! I will… only… ever… be… yours…" Clary felt a surge of electricity
running up her spine and with all of her energy screamed, "Cum for me, Jace. I
want you to cum in me! Claim me as yours!" Clary bucked her hips against his
and dug her nails deeper into his back.
At these words, Jace thrust one last time into her, letting out a throaty grunt
as he pushed himself into her as deep as he could go, and exploded inside of
her. Clary cried out as she felt him filling her up with his cum, loving how he
twitched within her, loving his noises, faces, scents, and tastes. His cum face
was seriously the hottest thing she'd ever seen in her life. After a few more
small thrusts and softer groans, Jace collapsed on top of her, panting heavily.
She moaned and panted with him, wiggling her hips around a little, feeling him
relaxing inside of her. His arms were splayed on either side of her body, and
she wrapped hers around his head, cradling him in her arms as he rested on her
chest. She kissed the top of his head and let herself relax, too, and they both
drifted off to sleep on the floor of the greenhouse.
A little while later, Clary awoke due to discomfort. When she saw the scene
before her, she immediately came back to her senses. Her face broke out into a
huge smile as she was filled with amusement at how hilarious and awful the fact
that they had just had sex on the floor of the greenhouse was. She kissed
Jace's head again and stroked his cheek while saying his name to wake him.
"Hmm?" He grunted.
"Jace, wake up. We need to go to bed. We're still in the greenhouse."
"What?" He said sleepily as he opened his eyes and looked around.
He started and sat up abruptly, remembering his surroundings. He looked back at
Clary and they both started laughing hysterically at the absurdity of it all.
"Wow." He said after the laughter had died down.
"I know, right?" She replied, also sitting up at this point.
They groped around for their clothes and struggled to get dressed, all the
while glancing at each other, completely enamored of one another. Periodically,
Jace would stop what he was doing to bring her into his arms and kiss her.
Clary smiled at each kiss. After they were fully clothed and about to leave,
Jace drew her to him one more time. This time the kiss deepened and lasted a
few minutes. As things started escalating again, he broke away and looked at
her seriously.
"Holy shit, Clary. I think I fucking love you." The words had just escaped him
before he could stop himself. He began to freak out internally about this
sudden declaration of love, which he swore he would never ever do, but when he
looked back at the red-haired girl before him who looked happier than he'd ever
seen her look before, all of his anxieties flew out the window. He began to
smile in spite of himself, and Clary started beaming. She flung herself into
his embrace and whispered into the crook of his neck, "I love you, too, Jace… I
love you, too." Jace felt his heart swell.
They kissed one more time, and he took her by the hand and guided her back to
the corridor that led to their rooms. He shot her a sly look, and she knew what
it meant immediately. She smirked back in assent. He took her to his room,
closing the door behind them, then forcibly shoved her against the door. They
started to make out again, knowing where this was leading and happily letting
it happen. He picked her up effortlessly and threw her on his bed. This time,
since some of the built up tension had already been released, things were a
little different. They were making love as well as fucking.
The third time, Jace went down on Clary, fingering her and licking her clit
until she came. As she was cumming, she begged Jace to fuck her, which
prolonged her orgasm. Watching her thrashing around uncontrollably under him,
sent Jace over the edge, and he came, too. He toppled off of her, lying next to
her in his bed. They both gasped for air, covered in sweat and juices, the
scent of sex thick in the air. They were unable to do anything but lie there
and gasp for air for a few moments.
When she had mostly caught her breath again, Clary rolled over and rested her
head on Jace's firm chest. She moaned contentedly and traced circles on him
with her index finger. This time he kissed her head, and wrapped his arms
around her, drawing him closer one last time. She looked up at him and he
kissed her with all the strength he had left, telling her how much she meant to
him.
"I love you, Jace."
"I love you… Clary…"
She snuggled into him, sending all the love she had into him, taking his love
in kind, and they both drifted off to sleep again, comfortable, satisfied, and
happier than they had ever been before. They weren't sure what the future held,
what would happen next, but they couldn't have cared less. Come what may, they
thought, whatever it is, we can face it… together.
***** Fallout *****
It was a quarter past nine and the rays of sunlight sneaking between the thick
curtain cracks spilled over Jace's sleeping eyes. He slowly opened his eyes and
blinked away the sleepiness, rubbing the sand from the corners. He was about to
do his daily morning routine of loudly yawning and stretching out over the
entire bed when he suddenly became aware of the fact that someone was lying
next to him.
Clary, facing away from him, was curled up almost in fetal position with the
blankets tucked perfectly under her arm and over her chest. He could see the
pale skin of her shoulders and upper back under her wild mane of red hair. With
just this view alone, his heart started pounding and he was having trouble
processing it all. The fact that she, Clary Fray, was there, with him, in his
bed, naked, in the morning, was just beyond comprehension. He was having
trouble deciding if he was happy about it or not, but while his mind was still
debating, his body reached out a finger and traced patterns lightly on her
shoulder. He heard her breathe out slightly in response, but it seemed as
though he hadn't woken her. Good, he thought, I need more time to think.
He tucked her hair gently behind her ear and ran his hand softly over her head
and cheek. Rolling back to his side of the bed, he placed his hands behind his
head to think. His mind was a blank strangely enough. He wasn't freaking out at
the moment, but he wasn't fully certain about everything, either. He felt calm,
and happy, but he also felt that there might be something more stirring beneath
the surface if he wanted to reach deep enough. He revisited the events of the
night before in his mind.
Maybe it was rash. But why would it be rash? After all, she's basically one of
us…
He had just realized what his fear actually was. She wasn't just another girl
he could use and lose. She wasn't going to be a friend with benefits or a one-
night stand. She wasn't someone he could just leave or ignore after he'd
already started things. She was not going anywhere and now he'd done something
that forever altered their relationship.
Shit, he thought.
Then remembered what all he'd said, too, and his stomach dropped even further.
I swore I'd never let myself love again. Not since that day… His jaw tightened
as he remembered the bedtime story he'd told Clary.
'To love is to destroy. To be loved is to be destroyed.' His dad's words had
struck him to the core that day, words that had shaped the way he viewed the
world.
It was out of self-preservation that he'd never allowed himself to get close
enough to anyone like that - he didn't want to be destroyed, broken. He would
never allow anyone to do that to him, to worse than tame him. And it was out of
compassion for others that he never allowed himself to love, but now it was too
late.
'The wrong person.' Ha, tell me about it.
He sighed deeply, not sure as to what his next move should be. How could he
have let things get this far? How could he have been so stupid as to not think
this far ahead? There was nothing else he could do… He had to break her heart;
he had to destroy her because he loved her. And he had to destroy her lest she
destroy him.
He had just about made up his mind to get dressed and sneak out of the room
without waking her when he felt her stirring beside him. All thoughts flew out
of his head immediately when he saw her face turning towards his, eyes still
shut, squinched up due to the light. Her hand went to her eyes as she squirmed
around slowly, making little moaning noises that signaled the unpleasant return
to consciousness. All that was in his head now were thoughts of how beautiful
she was.
As she finally opened her eyes and registered his presence, a look of mild
surprise followed by immediate contentment spread over her face.
"Gmmrgnng," she grumbled happily, stretching slightly while moving down under
the covers. Jace grinned and lifted the covers over his head, following her
underneath.
"Oh, no you don't!" He said roguishly, grabbing her by the waist and pulling
her to him while resurfacing from the dark, downy depths. "Come back here!"
She giggled and screamed, fighting him away halfheartedly. When their heads had
returned to the land of pillows and he felt her naked body pressed against his,
he flushed markedly. Jace had always had the upper hand in their relationship,
relishing his ability to make her blush whenever he desired, but now the tables
had finally been turned. Clary was loving it. Jace was not so crazy about it,
but he was crazy about her, the fact of which he was also not crazy about.
She said nothing, but simply smiled and looked deep into his eyes. He searched
them with his own, looking to see if there was anything clouding or darkening
them, but he couldn't find anything but happiness. There was no doubt, fear,
regret, anxiety, nothing. She was so free and comfortable and open. He couldn't
understand it. It was as though she had been a shy little caterpillar and
blossomed into a confident and radiant butterfly. It was stunning.
She leaned in and kissed him sweetly, lovingly. He hesitated for a moment, but
was quickly overwhelmed by the sentiments the kiss evoked within him. Despite
his reservations, he was grateful to not have to talk, and pushed his thoughts
to the back of his mind, letting himself get lost in Clary once again.
She had just rolled on top of him, things escalating quickly, when the faint
sound of footsteps approached the door, which burst wide open.
"Ja-" Alec began to say as he stepped into the room.
Clary toppled off of Jace with a slight yelp. They both pulled the covers up
high, eyes huge as they stared at Alec in utter astonished. His look matched
theirs and for a moment he just stood there gawking. His mouth was moving
slightly as if it were trying to say something but was not receiving any
direction from the brain as to what to say.
Before anyone had time to say anything else, more footsteps sounded in the
hallway coupled with Isabelle's voice. "What's going on, Alec? Did you find
him?" She and Simon appeared in the doorway next to him, quickly mirroring the
flabbergasted expressions on their own faces.
Simon was the first to break the silence, "WHAT THE FUCK!?" was all he said
before quickly turning around and bolting from the room.
"Simon, wait!" Clary shouted after him, looking around frantically for her
clothes. Alec was the next to leave, looking completely crestfallen as if
someone had just destroyed all of his dreams in one go.
"Alec-" Jace called, also making a move to get dressed and follow his best
friend.
Isabelle simply said, "Damn," with a small smile playing across her lips,
eyebrows still mid-forehead and sauntered out of the room as though she had
witnessed little more than the underdog of a sports match making an incredibly
unlikely comeback.
Both Jace and Clary threw on pants and shirts and nothing else and raced out of
the room after their respective best friends. Alec and Simon were both out of
sight by now, but the couple went to check the bedrooms first. Alec wasn't in
his room, so Jace proceeded to head to the weapons room to see if he were
taking out his anger on some dummies. Simon, however, was hastily and
haphazardly throwing his things into his backpack and preparing to leave.
"Simon…" Clary began, as she entered the room. He rounded on her.
"What the fucking fuck, Clary?!" He shrieked. She stood there for a moment not
sure what to say, but he just stood there, too, furious glare fixed on her,
demanding an explanation for her actions.
"What what, Simon? I mean, I know that wasn't cool to see, but Alec just burst
in unannounced and caught us off guard, and-"
"What were you doing in his room to begin with? What were you doing in his
bed?! What. the. fuck.?"
"Jesus, Simon, what's the big deal? It's not like I owe you an explanation or
anything. We're just friends, right?"
Simon didn't say anything. His gaze had fallen to the ground, though his jaw
was still clenched just as tightly.
"Right? Simon? I mean, what about Isabelle?"
"What about Isabelle?" Simon said, not looking up.
"Oh, come on. I know you like her. We all see how you ogle her."
"Ogling and dating – and sleeping with, for that matter – are entirely
different things." He retorted. "I mean, yeah, you're right; you and I are just
friends, technically speaking, but you knew how I felt about you… and him… I
mean, hell, I was mostly hanging around Isabelle to make you jealous, and then
when that didn't seem to be working, I was just hanging with her to make myself
feel less lonely and upset about you always being off with Jace anyway. But you
know you're the one I've always wanted to be with, Clary. It was always you."
She sighed heavily and closed her eyes. This was not happening.
"Simon-" She started to say, but he cut her off sharply.
"No, you know what? I don't even want to hear it. Goodbye, Clarissa Fray. Enjoy
what will obviously be a short-lived romance with the biggest jerk on the
planet. This time I'm not going to be there for you when your heart gets
broken." As he threw his pack over his shoulder and began to head toward the
door, he added, under his breath, "As if that guy is capable of love…"
Without thinking, she abruptly moved backward and shut the door behind her, her
arms spread out on either side of her, blocking his path.
"Move, Clary." He hissed at her. She had never seen him look this angry before
in all her time of knowing him. Somehow this self-assured wrath had made him
more attractive to her than ever before. She glared right back.
"No." She said, firmly. His eyes widened in disbelief, and he took another step
toward her, threateningly.
"MOVE." He repeated, more forcefully this time. Her breath caught in her throat
and heart began to pound a little. She wasn't sure if it was from fear or
excitement. What was going on inside of her?
"NO." She repeated, louder this time.
Simon snapped. He threw his bag onto the ground and pushed her by the shoulders
against the wall. She let out a small gasp and wondered how many bruises she
was going to have due to how many times she'd been shoved against things in the
past 48 hours.
Simon leaned in close, his expression livid at this point. His forehead nearly
touched hers as he loomed over her. She scowled up at him obstinately, feet
rooted to the ground. She wasn't sure what he would do next; she had never seen
him behave so aggressively before. He had always just been meek, mild Simon. A
pushover. A teddybear. A doormat. She admitted, not without guilt, to herself
that she had definitely taken advantage of his kindness and passivity. The
biggest reason she had never been interested in him that way was because of his
lack of backbone. It seems he finally grew one, and at the absolute worst
possible time ever, too. Just her luck.
Simon's glower seemed to soften ever so slightly when he realized she wasn't
going to back down. Lowering his voice, he said, "Fuck you, Clary Fray," then
grabbed her face in his hands and captured her mouth with his. She almost cried
out in surprise, eyes so wide she resembled a cartoon character. She hadn't
seen this coming.
Her first thought was, 'Holy shit, Simon just kissed me! SIMON…' but as she
felt how his kiss was transitioning from angry to something like an affection
that had been yearning to express itself for years, she opened her mouth and
let the kiss deepen.
She wasn't sure what she was doing. She still couldn't get over the fact that
this was SIMON. And she couldn't believe she was letting him kiss her after
what had just happened with Jace. A part of her felt guilty and that this was
wrong, like she was cheating on Jace. But they hadn't talked about what had
happened between them, what it all had meant, or what would happen now, so she
tried to use that to justify what was going on now. She wasn't even entirely
certain that she wanted to go there with Simon, but she wasn't entirely certain
that she didn't either. Everything was so mixed up and she felt so confused.
The flurry of emotions storming inside of her was getting harder and harder to
withstand, so she made a snap judgment call and decided to stuff everything
back down for now and just let go…
===============================================================================
Jace had sped toward the weapons room as though his life depended on it, and in
some ways, he felt that it did. Alec meant everything to him. He was the only
one he had in the world now who really understood him and always had his back.
They were parabatai, just like their fathers had been, and that bond was sacred
and unbreakable, or at least, it was supposed to be unbreakable.
Alec was there, like Jace had suspected, polishing his favorite weapons: the
damask daggers his father had bought for him from Idris to celebrate the
completion of Alec's Shadowhunter training. The blades were roughly the length
of his hands and ended in gorgeous handles carved from ivory stone. Aside from
a few grooved patterns on the handle and the beautiful damask steel making the
blades look as though they were rippling in the light, the daggers were plain
and undecorated. When Alec saw Jace panting in the doorway, he groaned, as if
to say, 'Great, you've found me,' and quickly looked away, rolling his head
back on his neck.
"Alec, I…" Jace began, moving toward him.
"Just fuck off, will you?" Alec had gone back to polishing his blades.
"No, you know what? Fuck you, Alec. What's the big deal anyway? It's not like I
haven't slept around enough already. You sure as hell know I'm no saint. So
what the hell is your problem, huh?"
Alec looked up at him incredulously, his eyes flashing with ire. He stood up
and threw the dagger in his hand to the target board to his right, narrowly
missing the center.
"Excuse me? What's my problem? What's your problem? You must be the biggest
fucking idiot on the face of the planet to go around acting like you can do no
wrong. Do you have any idea what you've done? We don't even know who the fuck
this Clary girl is. Nephilim blood or not, she's not one of us, and all we know
about her is that her father is Valentine, the only Shadowhunter in history to
turn evil, her mother had more faith in Downworlder magic than the Clave,
consequently putting us all in danger by her foolishness, and a freaking
warlock has had free reign over her mind, shaping it as he likes, for quite
possibly her entire life. I've not said anything about her staying here because
it's better to keep your enemies close, but now you've gone and made this girl
fall for you, and who knows what she'll do if you break her heart, like you
inevitably will."
Jace's righteous indignation was instantly deflated. He almost started to feel
ashamed because Alec had made some valid points, but Jace's willful
contrariness wouldn't allow him to be told what to do. Jace knew that he acted
rashly and impulsively at times, not thinking things through as much as he
should, but that's part of what made him so exciting and fun. He'd always been
able to get with anyone he desired, so he wasn't used to having to control or
deny himself what he wanted. In hindsight, however, he did have doubts about
what had happened with Clary for several reasons, but he wasn't going to let
Alec have the satisfaction of being right.
"You know what I think?" inquired Jace, rhetorically. His voice had dropped a
few decibels and was rife with a menacing edge. He started taking slow,
deliberate steps toward Alec. "I think you're just jealous."
Alec scoffed, but was taken slightly aback. He was afraid of what Jace was
going to say next.
"I'm not stupid, you know, Alec…" Jace enunciated the 'c' in Alec's name with
piercingly exaggerated articulation. He was within three feet of him now. Alec
looked as if he wanted to run. "I know how you feel for me…"
"What are you talking about?" spat Alec, icily, but his eyes betrayed him,
displaying his inner panic.
Jace was about a foot away now, still moving forward. Just as he was a few
inches away, he whispered, "You want me."
Crack! Jace was on the ground, clutching at his cheek, Alec towering over him
shaking out his right fist. He had hit Jace harder than he had ever hit anyone
before. He was trembling with anger.
Jace shot him the most venomous look someone could give and shouted, "Ow!
Jesus fuck, Alec. Fuck you!"
He leapt to his feet and shoved Alec backward with all his might. Alec
struggled to not lose his balance as Jace kept shoving him again and again. He
finally brought his arms up through Jace's, knocked them aside and shoved him
right back. Jace punched him hard with his strongest right hook. Alec had tried
to dodge it, but was too late. Jace went in for another hit with this left arm,
but Alec was able to get his arm up in the nick of time and sock Jace right in
the gut. As Jace doubled over in pain, Alec grabbed him by the head and kneed
him straight in the nose. A loud crunching sound, followed by a yell of pain
sounded in the room. Jace stumbled back a few paces and straightened up slowly,
clutching at his nose, which was now dripping blood over his mouth and chin. He
painstakingly moved it back into place, wiped the blood from his face with the
back of his hand and charged at Alec. They swung wildly at each other with a
fury that was reminiscent of a battle between ultimate nemeses who had been
waiting to fight each other for a long time. No inch of skin was left unmarked,
no part of the body was safe from attack, and no blow was withheld, no matter
how dirty.
They were finally losing steam, black and blue and red all over, when Alec
shoved Jace against the nearest weapons rack, not caring if he got impaled or
not. Luckily, he didn't. Alec hovered over Jace, panting heavily. He grimaced
at him, but underneath the rage, Jace could see lust. Despite the pain he was
in, he grinned sadistically. He shot Alec a seductive look, which further
enraged him, and he struck Jace one last time with the all of the strength,
causing him to sink to the floor, unconscious. Alec snarled, grabbing his coat
from the table where he'd been sitting, and stormed out of the room, not
looking back.
***** Crisscrossed *****
Isabelle turned the corner just in time to see Alec rushing out of the Weapons
Room, covered in bruises and cuts. Worried, she tried to catch up with him,
calling after him, but he sped up and was gone before she even reached the door
he had just left from. Wondering what could have happened to him, she
tentatively poked her head through the door, scanning the room for movement. At
first she didn't see anything and took a few steps inside, but when she heard
the raspy breathing coming from the far corner next to one of the weapon racks,
she realized the bloody mess on the floor was Jace and rushed over to him.
"Jace!" She cried in horror, "What happened? Are you okay? Answer me!"
She put her arms under his shoulders and lifted him up, dragging him onto the
nearby chair. He groaned in pain, rolling his head weakly.
"W-water…" He wheezed. She immediately stood, rushing to the corner of the
training room where a faucet, bucket, and towels were placed for similar
situations of cleanup, though typically less brutal. There was a stack of cups
next to the faucet as well, so after filling that up and bringing it to Jace,
she went back and put some water into the bucket and brought it over to him
with a few towels.
Jace was sipping the water clumsily, his hands shaking with fatigue and pain.
She took the cup from him and helped him drink until he was sated. She dipped
the towel into the bucket, wrung it out so it didn't drip, and began to clean
him up.
"Did Alec do this?" Isabelle asked quietly, almost not wanting to hear the
answer.
Jace nodded feebly. She dabbed away the blood from his face. He did his best to
stay still.
"Is it… because of Clary?"
He raised his eyes and gave her a look of miserable confirmation. She closed
hers and breathed out heavily.
"How long have you known?" His face was mostly clean at this point, but there
were a few lacerations and contusions here and there. She'd patch him up with
her stele after she'd finished washing him off.
"I didn't… not really… not until today… ", said Jace, hoarsely. He coughed a
bit before continuing, "I'd always had my suspicions, but he never said
anything, so I didn't really give it much thought. I definitely didn't know how
serious it was…"
"Why would he have said anything?" Isabelle had moved down his neck and reached
his collarbone, which had a nice sized gash on it. He winced as she pressed the
wet towel on it. "You know how that sort of thing is viewed in our society.
Better to keep quiet about it."
Jace stirred slightly at this as if disturbed by what she had said. "But I'm
his best friend."
"And he's in love with you. All the more reason to NOT tell you." She tossed
the rag into the bucket and started to unbutton his shirt. Due to the rushed
state in which Jace had dressed, there were only a couple of buttons done up
anyway, so it didn't take long to remove his shirt. Isabelle looked at him
piteously. He looked so defeated, not like the Jace she knew. There was no
trace of haughty superiority in his demeanor; there was no willful defiance or
stubborn independence. There was no sign of fight left in him. He just looked
beaten.
Isabelle rinsed the cloth in the water, squeezed the water out, and went back
to dabbing at Jace's wounds. "What're you gonna do now?"
Jace's eyes closed and she thought he'd passed out, but after a few moments, he
said, "I don't know. I guess I need to let him know that it's okay. That he'll
always be my best friend, my parabatai no matter what. But I don't know how to
deal with him not being okay with me and Clary."
"Yeah… about that, Jace… what the fuck was that all about?" Her tone sharpened,
as did her blotting. He groaned half in pain, half in annoyance. "Not you,
too."
Isabelle stiffened. "Look, it's not like I care who you sleep with, but Clary
is just so… mundane… You could have any girl you wanted, and typically do, so
why would you settle for someone like that?"
"How do you know it wasn't just another lay? Use her and lose her, as is the
Jace way…" He smirked slightly, his lip splitting open a bit more. His sense of
humor instantly disappeared again. She smiled slightly despite herself, wiping
off his lip again, then deciding to patch him up a bit before continuing to
wipe him off. She'd already done his midsection anyway and doubted he'd gotten
too roughed up below the waist. Neither of the boys was known to use kicks
nearly as much as she did when fighting.
"Because…" Isabelle said, as she pulled out her stele and started tracing each
cut carefully. They flashed as the skin began to move back together, sealing
the off the red depths below. "I know you, Jace Wayland. Better than you know
yourself, probably. From the instant you saw her, I could tell that she was
different, and I'm not gonna lie, it really pissed me off." She laughed
melodiously forcing a smile out of Jace's bloodied mouth.
"To be honest," she went on, "I'm not sure how much of it is jealousy and how
much of it really is distrust or dislike due to her being different from us. In
the midst of everything right now – finding out Valentine is still alive and
back with a vengeance, discovering that the mortal cup wasn't lost and could
possibly be tracked down by us, AND that there is another girl in the area with
Shadowhunter blood who could be a major player in all that's about to happen –
it's just a lot to deal with. I mean, look at all that's already happened since
she's entered our lives. I'm not gonna lie and say much good has come from her
being here so far, but that's just in my opinion. I'm not you, and if she means
something to you, something more than all the other girls you've bedded and
shedded, like you say," she gave him a sly grin, which he returned in kind,
"then, I'll just have to get over my crap and try to see her as you do. Even if
I can't stand her stealing all of the attention from me." She chuckled
pleasantly. Jace had never seen Isabelle be so gentle before. She must really
love me, he thought, for once not sarcastically.
Jace was starting to look like his old self again, slashes and gashes mostly
closed up now, blood wiped off, just the occasional welt or bruise here or
there now. With each abrasion she healed, he felt some strength return to him.
This time when he asked for water, he could actually hold the cup to his mouth
without spilling all over himself. She saw the color returning to his cheeks,
combined with the extra color the lovely welts added. He looked up into her
eyes in a way he never had before which told her just how much he appreciated
her ministrations and kindness. This look alone told her something he'd never
explicitly told her before: that he loved her very much and was grateful she
was in his life. She put her hand to his cheek and stroked it sweetly. As she
pulled her hand away, he grabbed it and pressed it to his lips. She smiled and
leaned in to give him a kiss on the cheek, but he turned his head and kissed
her on the lips. She immediately drew back.
"Jace… don't. Let's not complicate things more than they already are. You know
I love you with all my heart. You know our relationship has always been a
little complex due to growing up like siblings, but not being related. There
were definitely times I had hoped we'd get together, but there was also always
a part of me that felt kinda wrong about it. Like you actually were my brother
on some level. Frankly speaking, a part of me still finds you terribly sexy."
He smirked appreciatively. She smiled in response. "And there's definitely
still a part of me that occasionally, albeit somewhat unintentionally,
fantasizes about you, but… I just don't know that it'd be a good idea.
Especially with this whole Alec/you/Clary/Simon ridiculousness that's going on
now. Not sure we really need to hitch another name to that wagon." She motioned
for him to take off his pants. He gave her a look indicating that that would
not be a good idea if she wanted to keep things platonic between them.
"Right…" She grabbed the bucket and towels and brought them back to the corner
of the room, rinsing out the bloody towel and bucket.
"It's fine," said Jace, standing and picking up his battered shirt. "I can do
the rest. Not much damage to the legs anyway." He followed her with the cup,
filling it up and downing its contents one last time before rinsing it out and
putting it back on the shelf. He then splashed water over his face and hair,
tousling it a bit. He turned and looked at Izzy. He took her into his arms,
pressing her against his bare chest, and said, "Thanks, Iz. For everything. I
don't know what I'd do without you."
He threw his shirt over his shoulder and grabbed her by the hand, leading her
out of the room. They wrapped their arms around each other and walked down the
hall, feeling closer to one another than they had ever been before. They hugged
again, but just before they parted ways, Jace softly inquired, "Hey Iz, tell me
seriously: what's with you and Simon? Do you actually like him?"
She shrugged, which was as good as saying yes for her. He nodded knowingly and
they set off in opposite directions, Jace heading to the showers, Isabelle to
check on Simon. Both Jace and Izzy knew that the next time they met, they'd be
back to their cool exteriors and cutting remarks, but now they'd exchange quips
with a shared secret beneath the masks.
===============================================================================
For once in his life, Alec decided to be reckless. He had just beaten the
person he was in love with to a bloody pulp and left him for dead for all he
knew and was now showing up uninvited to the residence of one of the most
powerful Downworlders in the area. All Alec knew was that he was done. He was
done with being the cautious one, the responsible one, the levelheaded one, the
one who kept everyone else in line, everyone else safe. When Hodge wasn't
around, Alec had to play the parent and make sure things didn't get out of
hand. He was the one who would always be thinking first and foremost about
protecting the people he cared about. But not this time. He had had enough.
Approaching the metal door, he repeatedly punched Magnus Bane's buzzer angrily
with his fist. This seemed to do no favors for him and was quickly interrupted
by a deafening roar booming through the intercom speaker.
"WHAT?!" Magnus seemed too irate to get anything else out. His voice would
probably have frightened away anyone else, but at that moment, there was
nothing that could rattle Alec.
"It's Alec Lightwood. Let me in." Alec shouted back, with an equally cross
timbre. The door clicked open before he had even finished speaking. He took no
notice of it, though, shouldering the door open roughly, not even wincing
despite the deep gash he was smashing against the metal. Pure fury and
adrenaline were still coursing through his veins, overriding the pain he was
surely going to be suffering from the instant he crashed.
Alec let the door slam behind him and bounded up the stairs to the young
warlock's apartment. He had almost reached the door to the flat, when he
noticed Bane at the top of the steps waiting for him eagerly. Magnus was
wearing a long elegant grass green dressing gown and nothing else, as far as
Alec could tell. It was tied so the fabric covered his waist, but left most of
his tanned chest and left leg exposed. His hair and face were completely
natural and free from product, but his nails glittered with polish. He was
leaning seductively against the doorway, sipping a strangely colored liquid
blithely from a martini glass. Alec was briefly taken aback by seeing him in
front of him so suddenly, as well as at how different he looked from the night
they'd met. Without all that makeup on, Alec found Magnus far more attractive.
His breath caught as he watched the way his beautiful black hair fell casually
across his golden forehead.
"Well, well, well. Look what that angel dragged in." He smirked. "Seems like
this soldier could use a little patching up. Follow me." Bane turned on his
heels without waiting for a reply, leaving the door open behind him. Alec felt
himself having second thoughts, but quickly snuffed them out. He jogged up the
last few stairs, and shut the door behind him.
The loft apartment looked completely different than it had the night of the
party. While the furnishings were still quite sparse, the open room now
resembled a Roman triclinium. In the center was a long white rectangular coffee
table adorned with a neatly arranged platter of assorted fruit, a chocolate
fountain, an ice bucket with two bottles of champagne in it, twin glass goblets
next to the bucket, a pitcher of spring water, and two glasses. In the center
of table was a giant bouquet of wildflowers, with rose petals sporadically
sprinkled amongst the sumptuous-looking provisions, and two candlesticks were
burning cream-colored carved tapered candles.
The chocolate, fruit, flowers, and candles mixed together to create a
deliciously sweet perfume that permeated the air. The room was dimly lit, most
of the light coming from the candles, with just a bit more coming from tiny
bunches of twinkling lights that hovered at the top of each wall. At first, it
seemed like music in the background, but it was more like euphonious ambience
than an outright melody. Whatever it was, it instantly made Alec feel more at
ease.
As he strode toward the table, he noted the two long couches stationed on
either side, clearly intended for lounging decadently whilst partaking of the
table's delights. Magnus was already reclining on the couch closest to the
door, dipping an enormous strawberry in the chocolate fountain. He motioned
Alec to the other couch, staring him dead in the eye as he placed the whole
strawberry into his mouth and bit down. Alec gulped. He noticed a robe just
like the one his host was wearing, but a rich maroon color, laid out on the
couch. He looked at it hesitantly, taking a seat gingerly next to it. Magnus
chuckled to himself, putting down the stem of the strawberry and sitting
upright.
"Here, my poor guest. Let me help you out of those sullied clothes." He stood,
picking up what appeared to be another bucket like the one cooling the
champagne, but in it was slightly steaming water and a cloth draped over the
edge. The handsome young man sat beside Alec, considerately pouring him a glass
of water, and began to unbutton his ripped and stained shirt as the
Shadowhunter gratefully rehydrated himself. Magnus wanted to make sure the
blue-eyed boy was feeling his best, despite his roughed up condition, so as to
better enjoy their time together tonight.
Alec continued to say nothing, but just stared at Magnus, watching him tend to
his wounds. No one had ever done this for him before. No one he had been
attracted to had ever even touched him like this before. It was totally new
territory for him, and he was terrified, but anger was still seething within
him, too, so his face displayed nothing but impassivity at this point.
Magnus couldn't have been more delighted with this tough guy exterior. It was
just like he'd fantasized, only better. He traced the faded rune Marks on
Alec's fair skin as he washed away the dried bits of blood, sweat, and grime.
As he gently touched the cleaned wounds with his long, thin index finger, they
were reduced to small scrapes and bruises, instead of welts and gashes. Alec
felt his adrenaline level decrease slightly as his pain lessened, which angered
him further. Adrenaline was all that was keeping him going right now; he didn't
want to lose steam lest he regain his senses too soon. But as Bane's fingertips
spidered up his bare skin, trailing along the contours of his muscles and
bones, briefly massaging his tense shoulders, caressing his face, and burying
in his hair, he let his eyes close and lolled his head back slightly against
Magnus's hand. The warlock's other hand went to Alec's jean button, undoing it
deftly, and sliding down the zipper. He moved his hand from the Shadowhunter's
hair to his waist, and, placing his knees to the ground just before Alec, began
to pull down the jeans.
The lump in Alec's throat rose and his heart began to pound in anxious
excitement. He was trying to remain as emotionally neutral as possible, but
Bane exuded a sexual confidence that was at once irresistibly alluring and
absolutely intimidating. He let him take off everything but his briefs, and
after his legs had been washed, he stood and put the robe on, taking a seat
again slightly distanced from the Downworlder on the couch. Magnus looked
miffed for a second but immediately realized that it was a power move and
happily played along. He slinked back to his own couch, uncorked one of the
bottles of champagne and filled the two goblets. Passing one glass to Alec, who
accepted it imperially, he took the other in hand and laid back down, putting
his free hand behind his head, and bending one knee, causing the cloth to be
precariously situated below his waist.
Alec was determined not to let his guard down. This was Magnus Bane after all,
not a friend or an ally. He had to keep sharp, in control of the situation.
Despite all that had happened, Alec was actually feeling pretty good, powerful,
and dominant, in control, self-assured in a way he'd never been before.
Dangerous, even. He had bested Jace Wayland in hand-to-hand combat, which he
had never even come close to doing before. He wasn't even sure who the last
person to defeat Jace was. Granted, Jace had gotten pretty roughed up the night
before and was probably still recovering from that, so he'd had the upper hand,
but still.
The fact that the High Warlock of Brooklyn, one of the most powerful and
influential Downworlders in the area, was doting on him hand and foot also
filled him with a sense of power and masculinity. It felt good being the top
dog for once. He allowed himself to revel in his newfound power and take
advantage of the situation. He emptied his glass and spoke for the first time
addressing Magnus,
"More." He demanded, holding his empty goblet out to Magnus, face cold as ice.
The green-clad man's golden eyes flashed and his lips curled in devilish
pleasure. He was loving this new side of the typically reserved and restrained
Shadowhunter. He knew that something dramatic must have happened to cause this
drastic shift in him, but he didn't really care to find out what. He could tell
Alec was only there to take out his emotions on him, and he was more than happy
to comply.
Alec let himself relax for a moment to recuperate from the whirlwind of
emotions he'd just experienced. He grabbed some fruit, reclined on the couch,
and shut his eyes as he ate. He inhaled deeply, letting the delicious scents
pour into him, absorbing himself in the pleasant ambiance, and letting himself
dwarf Magnus' presence. The Downworlder feasted his eyes on Alec's bare chest,
runes and scars exposed by the cloth of the gown sliding apart.
After he satisfied his hunger for fruit and his batteries had recharged a bit,
he motioned Bane to his side. "Come here." He said softly, not opening his
eyes.
The beautiful warlock seemed to teleport over to him, such was the swiftness
and silence of his movements. Bane immediately ran his fingers through Alec's
dark hair and trailed them down the side of his face. The handsome blue-eyed
boy breathed out in response. Magnus leaned down and whispered into Alec's ear,
"How may I serve you, my lord?" Hot breath warmed Alec's cold ear. Alec's eyes
shot open and he caught Bane by the nape of his neck and hissed,
"I'm sore."
"Of course, my lord." Magnus stood up, the young Shadowhunter sitting up,
following the warlock's movements.
Bane moved behind him and slipped the robe off of the Lightwood boy's
shoulders, letting it fall and bunch around his waist and wrists. Alec slid his
hands out of the sleeves while Magnus reached his arms around him and untied
the robe. He removed the robe from the bed, leaving Alec in nothing but his
royal blue boxer briefs and beckoned him to lie prone on the flat bed-like
couch.
In the blink of an eye, the maroon robe transformed into a towel, and when the
warlock snapped his fingers the blue briefs were in his hand, purple towel
neatly over the prostrate boy's ass. Alec let out a small gasp of surprise, but
quickly regained his composure.
Next thing he knew, Bane was straddled over him, sitting on his upper thighs,
pouring warm massage oil onto his back. Magic comes in handy, Alec thought,
thinking about how easily Bane could make anything he wanted appear. He thought
about the table and room and how Magnus must either have known he was coming
ahead of time or snapped his fingers and made it all happen as Alec had been
climbing the stairs.
Magnus' fingers were soft as feathers as he spread the liquid around on Alec's
toned back. His marks and muscles seemed to ripple under his touch. When Magnus
began to apply more pressure, starting to expertly work through the boy's
tension, Alec let himself sigh and melt. Some physical therapy was much needed
and long overdue.
Bane kneaded Alec's shoulders, entire back, arms, neck, and head. His movements
precise and rhythmic, as though he had been professionally trained. When he
felt Alec was sufficiently relaxed, he moved to his legs. He worked his feet,
calves, and thighs, releasing all the tightness held. As he reached the
muscular thighs, he pushed higher and higher until his hands were under the
towel. He started to massage Alec's glutes when he felt them tense ever so
slightly. He smiled and pressed harder as if to say, 'stop that!' They relaxed
immediately. He worked them over and over, getting steadily more forceful in
his movements. He could feel Alec's body responding under him, the quickening
of his breath, the escalation of his heartbeat, the eager anticipation rising
inside of him. Magnus was slowly circling his hands outward on each cheek,
causing them to spread more and more each time he looped back around. As he
spread them with his fingers, he slid his hands down slowly, letting his thumbs
slide down the valley, over the orifice in the middle.
Alec had regained his adrenaline rush, and filled with passionate desire,
flipped over, pulling Bane on top of him and slamming their mouths together.
Bane groaned as though he'd been waiting forever for this moment and opened his
mouth wider to take in the hungry boy's tongue. Bane's robe came untied as they
ground against each other, causing skin-to-skin contact and gasps to erupt from
their throats. Their erections were pressing against each other's stomachs and
Alec moved his hips so that they rubbed against each other. A moment later,
Alec reached his hand down and grabbed Bane's shaft, relishing how hard he was.
He moved his hand up and down, squeezing pleasurably, growing hornier by the
minute. His disbelief of being in this situation was replaced by raging,
undiluted lust.
Bane moved down, breaking Alec's hold, and took his entire length in his mouth.
Alec's back arched uncontrollably, and he thrust his pelvis back up in a
serpentine movement. As Magnus bobbed up and down, Alec gyrated his hips,
clutching handfuls of the man's silky straight black hair. Alec felt the wave
of orgasm building up in him, but didn't want to come like this.
He shoved Magnus to the side and moved behind him, holding him down to make
sure he stayed on his hands and knees. He put his middle finger into his mouth
and sucked on it until it was slick with saliva and then slowly nudged it
inside of him. Bane moaned and pushed back against Alec's hand. He tightened
his muscles around his finger, which made Alec harden even more. Gliding his
finger in and out, his breathing became heavy and he stroked himself with his
other hand. When he was unable to take it anymore, he positioned his precum-
slicked cock at the Downworlder's entrance and forced himself inside. Magnus
screamed with a mixture of pleasure and pain, but luckily he was a bit of a
masochist, so it was electrifying. Alec groaned so loudly he would have
startled himself if he hadn't been totally absorbed in the feeling of Bane
pulling his dick further into him with his skilled muscles. The Shadowhunter
plunged again and again into the gorgeous warlock's tight ass, grunting and
groaning as his pent up frustration was finally being released.
Feeling the tidal wave starting to surge in him, he dug his fingers onto Bane's
hipbones and rammed himself faster and harder into him. A note spilled forth
from his throat and grew stronger as he rapidly, wildly thrust himself in and
out, crescendoing as he felt the semen at the tip of his cock and explode out
matching the climaxed cry of his voice. He fell on top of Magnus's back,
rubbing him up and down, and grasping desperately at every inch of skin he
could get his hands on. Magnus sensed what was about to happen next, and
snapped his fingers, transporting them onto his bed as Alec pulled out and
collapsed next to him. Knowing that this was his first time, and that he had
had a very exhausting day, he let him pass out, stroking his head and kissing
his face. He snuggled up next to him, pulling the covers up over them, and fell
asleep, too.
When Alec awoke, Magnus was gone. He glanced around him at the colorful room
and the impact of what he'd done hit him full force. His stomach plummeted and
he flung himself out of the bed, noting his clothes washed, mended, and folded
neatly on the dresser. He pulled them on, appreciative of what the warlock had
done, and raced down the stairs into the main room. Bane was still nowhere to
be found, to Alec's relief. The room had been changed into what he assumed what
it normally looked like, a normal apartment. He rushed through the door and
down the rickety steps, out the metal entrance, and sped off back to the
institute, anger rising in him once again. All he could think about was Jace
and how this was all of his fault. He was determined to confront him once and
for all about everything. He wasn't going to let Jace get off so easily this
time.
***** Breaking, Part I *****
 WARNING!
THIS CHAPTER INCLUDES A DETAILED RAPE SCENE! If you are sensitive to such
matter, please don't read it! The next chapter will be the last, the wrap-up,
of this short little story, and it will be a more pleasant read, so I'd implore
you to just skip to that if you feel so inclined. Or skip to the bottom of this
chapter for the Jace/Alec scene. Thanks!
===============================================================================
Clary broke the kiss and pushed Simon off of her. "Wait!" she cried out,
putting her arms up between them as he snarled and moved to charge again.
"Wait, Simon, please." She looked at him imploringly. His dark eyes clouded by
emotion seemed to clear just a bit in response to her supplication, causing him
to regain his senses slightly and come back to himself again.
"Please, Simon. Can we just talk about this for a moment? I mean, you're
my best friend in the whole world. I've known you for, like, ever. We've done
literally everything together for so many years now, and I couldn't imagine you
not being in my life."
He cut her off. "Well, then, you better make the right choice, Clary, 'cause if
you don't, I won't be in your life anymore." He threatened, eyes flaming
alarmingly at her.
"What the hell, Simon?! Where is this coming from?" She couldn't believe he'd
said that.
"Clary, I've loved you from the first time I saw you. I loved your red pigtails
and bright green eyes and freckled skin. I loved how you smiled at me and took
my hand, inviting me into your world, not caring that I was a nerdy, cootie-
ridden boy." Simon suppressed a smile. "I loved watching you draw, how you came
alive. I was happy to do nothing but sit and stare at you. You were an angel to
me, something mythical and enchanting, and I couldn't believe my great fortune
to just be in your presence. You were kind to me when so many others weren't.
You were there for me when I was at my worst. You included me in every part of
your life, and I couldn't tell you how rich that made me feel. For every
reason, I fell for you. You were everything to me, my reason to wake up each
morning, my reason to look forward to the day. It's true that it was hard for
me to love you so much and not be able to express how I felt for you, but just
being close to you made all the pain worthwhile. Until now. Now it's gone too
far, and I can't take it any longer."
"But why? If you've been in love with me for so long, why didn't you just tell
me? Why did you never say anything before? What's changed for you to say
everything to me like this right now?"
Simon's face was the definition of incredulity. "What's changed, Clary?
What's changed?! Jesus Christ, Clary, everything's changed. I never said
anything before because I was afraid. I was afraid of losing you if I told you
and you didn't feel the same. I was always just waiting, hoping for you to just
give me some sign, some clue that you felt the same way I did. There were times
when I thought you were giving me some signs, but then whenever I tried to
broach the subject, you seemed completely oblivious as to what I was trying to
say. I couldn't tell how you felt at all, but up until now, it wasn't that big
of a deal. Sure, I was holding on to my dreams still, trying to figure out a
way to find out for sure how you felt, but in the meantime, I was happy to
still just be near you. But then he entered your life and changed everything.
He ruined everything."
"He?" Clary's eyebrows shot up in disbelief. "He?" As in Jace? Wow. I don't
even know where to begin." Simon clenched his teeth, his face challenging her
to say something that would make things better. "Well, for one, Simon, I'm not
the one who has been in relationships before. You are the one who has. I never
liked any of the girls you dated, but I never said anything or stood in your
way, 'cause that's not what friends do. I just wanted you to be happy. And
secondly, just because you don't like Jace, doesn't make him responsible for
your bubble being burst. What do you expect to happen when you just sit around
and want things to happen but never take the steps to do anything about it? You
waited until it was too late, and now you're upset and taking it out on others,
when it's your own fault you were too much of a coward to just talk to me! God,
Simon, did you really think I was just going to send you on your way if you
told me you liked me and I didn't like you back? Do you think so little of me?
Do you think I care for you so little? Like I said, you mean everything to me."
The expression on Simon's face was waffling back and forth between insulted and
guilty. "I only dated to lessen the loneliness and agony I felt from being so
close to you, and yet so far, all of the time. I justified it as 'practice' for
when you and I finally got together." Simon's voice had gone quiet. "I did want
to tell you, Clary. Believe me, I did. I was just so scared. And before Jace
came into the picture, it felt like I still had time. But now, you're right -
it's too late. I'm too late. That bastard stole my chance with you from me. He
got to you first."
"God, Simon. You talk about me as if I'm not even a person, but a piece of
property or something for you guys to claim. It's not like Jace forced me into
anything. I wanted him, too. I was equally involved in making that choice, so
there's no use trying to just blame him for everything." Simon looked away and
sighed deeply, fearing what she was going to say next. "Look, I am so sorry
about everything. I really am. I never wanted to hurt you. When you suffer, I
do, too. I can't say that I wasn't aware, at least on some level, that you
liked me, but I just couldn't deal with it, so I didn't. I know that's unfair,
but I guess I was scared, too."
"So, you admit you never had feelings for me." He braced himself.
"I don't know, Simon. Honestly. I don't know. I wouldn't let myself go there.
You know that the only people I've had in the world are my mom, Luke, and you.
If anything were to have happened, anything that would have changed our
relationship or caused it to end, I'm not sure I would have been able to handle
it, so I just didn't let it even be an option. As long as we were just friends,
we were safe. There was no reason why we would ever have to stop being in each
other's lives."
"But I know I've felt something between us. There have been times when you've
looked at me a certain way, touched my hair, leaned on my shoulder, held my
hand. We've lain in bed and cuddled together, falling asleep together. You
can't say that's nothing. That none of that meant anything. People who are just
friends don't do that kind of stuff the way we have." He moved toward her, his
face begging her to throw him just one tiny piece of a bone.
Clary said nothing, her jaw tight. She wouldn't look at him because she frankly
didn't know what the truth was anymore. She didn't know how to answer, and she
certainly didn't have time to dig down deep inside of her vault of repressed
thoughts and feelings to find out. And even if she had liked him, or perhaps
even now liked him, she didn't want to know because of Jace. She loved Simon
just the way he was right now, how their relationship was now and didn't want
to change it.
He was closing the gap between them again, slowly but steadily, and she
desperately tried to think of what to say. His glance was gentler now as he
advanced, warm and inviting. He looked more like the Simon she'd always known
and felt comfortable with, the Simon who she wanted to run to and curl up with
whenever things were bad. She fought the urge to do that now, knowing he'd
misinterpret it.
He'd stopped for a moment, taking off his glasses and putting them aside. Then,
he grabbed the bottom of his T-shirt and gradually began to move it sensuously
over his head, exposing his tanned stomach bit by bit. Clary's eyes widened as
she watched her friend remove his shirt. What on earth is he doing? She
thought. She tried to look away, but found her eyes darting back to his abs and
hipbones that jutted out just above his sagging jeans. Her heart fluttered
slightly, and she tried desperately to ignore it.
She started to back up as he moved toward her again, pressing herself up as
flat against the door as she could. When their legs were almost touching, he
reached his hand under her chin and whispered, "Clary, I love you," into her
ear. She gulped, breathing hard. Her brain had stopped functioning. It was
completely empty. Simon pressed against her and took her mouth with his once
again. She melted into him, in spite of herself.
The dark-haired boy moved his hand to her hair, cupping the back of her head,
forcing her to him. His left hand trailed down her front, feeling every part of
her hungrily. The kiss began to deepen and grow more passionate, but just as he
reached his hand down to her waist, moving it around to her ass, she uttered a
stifled, "No!" and pushed him back off of her again, harder this time.
Confounded and enraged, Simon grabbed Clary by the shoulders and threw her onto
the bed, flinging himself on top of her. She screamed, this time in actual
fear, not believing what was happening. What was going on? The guardian of her
emotional safety had turned on her. Her sense of security had been shattered.
Terrified of losing him completely, she pleaded with him to stop, trying to
wriggle free of his clutches.
"What's wrong, Clary? If you're throwing yourself at guys you've just met, what
about the guy you claim to love? What about the guy that's been there for you
through thick and thin, the one that's always given you everything you ever
wanted. The one that loves you. If you're going to give yourself to anyone, it
should be ME. I deserve you, not him! You should be mine!"
Simon grabbed hold of each of Clary's wrists and pinned her arms by her head.
He held her legs down with each of his and bent over her, kissing her neck,
chest, and face. He placed his mouth on hers, but she wouldn't kiss him back,
yelling into his mouth and shaking her head to try to repel him. He took both
of her tiny wrists into one of his hands and moved them above her head. He
shoved his left hand under her shirt and pulled it up so that it exposed her
chest. "No!" She screamed, "Stop it, Simon. Stop!" She writhed around, trying
to get free as he took each nipple into his mouth and sucked, groping
voraciously with his hand. He moaned into her skin as if in relief, his burning
curiosity as to know what she looked, felt, and tasted like being quenched.
Clary felt terrified and violated. This was SIMON, her best friend, her safe
place. He'd always been there for her, he'd never hurt her or forced himself on
her before, despite how much he wanted her. She couldn't believe he was doing
this. Even if she was getting turned on, she didn't want it like this. Plus,
she wanted Jace, not Simon. She was petrified; she didn't know what to do. It
was if the person on top of her wasn't Simon. He'd turned into someone she
didn't know at all.
She felt Simon's had move from her breasts down over her stomach, and she
gasped as she realized what he was doing. Dread filled her chest and she felt
like she couldn't breathe. She felt him unbutton her jeans and pull down the
zipper. She wanted to scream, but only a choking sound escaped her throat. She
felt her eyes burning as tears welled up and them and started pouring down her
cheeks. As she felt his hand slip under the jean material and over her mound,
she began to sob. Simon completely ignored her, fixated on the fact that his
hand was so close to her cunt.
He slid his fingers over her clit and rubbed, her wetness slicking his
movements. He groaned loudly, more turned on than he'd ever been before. All he
could think about was fucking Clary, and how he was going to stop at nothing
until his dick was sliding into her. He moved his fingers down and abruptly
shoved two fingers inside her pussy. She gasped and arched her back, despite
herself. He grinned hungrily, eyes completely darkened with arousal. The boy
she knew and loved no longer existed. As he slid his fingers in and out of her,
her body reacted instinctively, upsetting her futher. She didn't want to
encourage him, but whenever he pulled his fingers out of her so slowly, her
burning walls would clamp down around his fingers causing them both to moan.
She was horny. She couldn't believe that being raped by her closest friend was
making her horny. This is so fucked up. It's so wrong. Why is he doing this?
Why won't he stop? Why am I being turned on? She sobbed harder. Simon cackled
as if he were enjoying her pain. His forcefulness, his callousness, his cruelty
was somehow causing her to waver in her convictions. How could I possibly find
this hot? What the fuck is wrong with me? She didn't know what was going on
inside of her.
Simon began to thrust his fingers in and out of her faster and faster until she
was writhing under him and whimpering in pleasure. He was getting so turned on,
he felt like he was going to blow his load right then and there. He removed his
hand, pulled down her jeans, taking them off of her completely and throwing
them to the floor. He opened her legs wide, and spread her pussy lips to get a
good look at her. This was what he'd wanted for years, to fuck Clary Fray. He
ripped off his jeans and boxers and positioned himself over her. He looked her
dead in the eye with complete dominance and lust. You're mine, and I'm going to
fuck you 'til you can't walk, he stared back at him, knowing what he was
thinking. She'd stopped crying at this point. She was still now, not even
trying to fight him anymore. She said nothing; she didn't move a muscle. And he
plunged into her. Over. And over until he was about to cum. He pulled out and
let himself spray her down with his semen. Seeing her covered in his cum made
him cum even more, even harder. She squirmed around, scrunching up her face as
she was showered in his seed.
When he'd finished, he heaved in and out, shaking slightly over her. When he'd
caught his breath, he looked up at her, but her head was turned to the side on
the pillow, not looking at him. A tear trickled down her cheek. He grabbed her
by the chin and forced her to look into his eyes, moving his face close to her.
"Thanks…" He drawled sadistically. "For the fuck…" A strangled noise somewhere
between a sob and a whimper escaped her throat. More tears rolled down her
face. He shoved her face away from his, turning her head back to the side,
stood up, cleaned himself off, dressed and grabbed his back, and exited the
room, leaving her half-naked, splayed crying on the bed, covered in jizz. She
closed her eyes and let herself fall asleep, desperate to escape the reality of
what had just happened.
===============================================================================
Jace was just about done showering when he heard a bang that sounded as if it
was right outside the door. He hastily turned off the shower, wrapped the gray
towel around his waist, and pressed his back up against the cold tile wall,
about to crack the bathroom door open to see if someone had just entered his
room. Before he had a chance to, however, it flew open and Alec stormed in,
grabbing Jace by the neck and holding him against the wall. Jace's eyes widened
in genuine fear, but he checked himself in a heartbeat, and tried to hide
behind his go-to sarcastic cover.
"Back to finish the job, eh?" He snarked, in a low voice. Alec just snarled in
response and shoved his head against the wall again by the neck.
"Well, get on with it. I don't have all day to die." Jace challenged.
"Do you know what you made me do?" Alec screamed at Jace, his blue eyes wild
and terrifying. "Do you?!"
"If you're referring to the pain I'm currently experiencing then, yes, I'm
acutely aware of what you did, thanks very much. However, whether or
not I madeyou-"
"I fucked Magnus Bane." Alec cut him off. "I fucked Magnus Bane."
Jace's mouth began to fall open, but he tried, and failed, to cover his shock
with more sarcasm. "Yeah, I heard you the first time."
Alec let go of Jace and took a step back, looking away. "Alec, I-"
"Just, don't, Jace. Just, don't." Alec walked out of the bathroom. Jace
fallowed him warily into the bedroom, totally unsure of what to say.
"But, Alec, why-" Alec spun around and glared at Jace, who was still dripping
wet. He let his eyes drift over his half-naked body in a way he'd never done
before. He always made sure he looked away, trying to not let Jace know what he
was thinking. He was so far past caring at this point, though.
"Why?" Alec yelled. "Why?! Seriously, Jace!? Do you have any idea what it's
been like?"
"Obviously not," Jace interjected, but Alec kept talking as if he hadn't heard
him.
"For almost a decade I've watched you sleep around, not discriminating,
flirting with everything that had two legs. I watched you take out your anger
and misery on hapless victims of your insatiable thirst, but we both know your
meaningless conquests never fulfilled you. They never made you happy or any
less unhappy. For years I watched your self-destructive behavior wishing I
could just show you how different things could be. How things could be if you
let me in, if you just-"
"Just what?" spat Jace. not able to contain the anger bubbling up inside of
him. "Just accepted your love? Your magical, healing, transformative love for
me? 'cause you're just so amazing that all of my problems would be solved if I
just fucked you and no one else? What, do you have a magical asshole or
something? Mouth? Cock? Well, hey, if that's all it takes to cure me of my
inner demons, then, shit, let's fuck. Come on." Jace grabbed Alec by the neck
this time and threw him on his bed, climbing over him. His golden eyes were
filled with pure, undiluted malice. Alec's expression had progressively changed
from angry to sad to completely flabbergasted in a few moments.
Jace didn't relinquish his grip on Alec's neck and bent over him, claiming the
dark haired boy's mouth with his. Alec gulped with anxiety. He hadn't expected
his. Somehow he'd lost the upper hand and was now the one at the mercy of the
other. He wasn't sure how he felt about what was happening, but the sensation
of Jace's lips on his quickly overwhelmed his thoughts. What he'd been dreaming
about for years was finally happening, but not in a way he'd ever imagined.
Jace thrust his hands into Alec's hair, deepening the kiss and Alec wrapped his
arms around the golden-haired young shadowhunter's bare back. He pulled him
close, relishing the ability to finally be so intimate with the love of his
life. He rolled them over on the bed so he was now on top of Jace and broke the
kiss, looking down into his eyes. They were hollow, narrow, and filled with
ire. They startled him and he pulled back, brow furrowing in alarm.
"What? Not all you'd hoped for?" Jace seethed. Alec stammered, suddenly
hyperaware of himself and what was happening. Jace shoved him off of him and
rolled over, sitting up on the edge of the bed, adjusting his towel.
"Jace, I-" Jace jerked his head slightly back toward Alec, though he didn't
look at him. His face was tight and his body seemed to challenge him as if to
say, 'What? What could you possibly have to say to me right now?'
"I'm sorry…" Alec finally managed after a brief period of silence. He saw
Jace's brow furrow slightly as if he was thrown off slightly. It seemed he had
caught him off guard. Jace turned slightly toward Alec, looking at him
inquisitively, brow still furrowed, lips still pursed.
"I'm sorry." Alec reiterated, more confidently this time, as if he'd made up
his mind about something. All of a sudden, his eyes began to fill, and his
voice choked, shoulders trembling slightly as he repeated, "I'm so sorry…" His
head fell into his head. Jace's expression lost all of its previous
indignation, a look of genuine concern replacing it. He stood and walked over
to sit next to his parabatai, placing a hand gingerly on his back. "Alec…"
Alec let out a sob and threw his arms around Jace's neck. "Oh god, I'm so so
sorry, Jace. I'm so so sorry…"
Jace returned the embrace, squeezing his best friend tightly to his chest,
rubbing his back reassuringly. "Hey, hey… Alec…" He crooned, "Alec, it's okay…
really… Everything's fine… really… don't worry about it… Everything's okay…"
Between sobs, Jace heard Alec whisper, "I love you." Jace's heart was heavy.
Alec meant the world to him. His heart was breaking with Alec's. "Oh, Alec… I
love you, too…" He whispered back, into his dark hair. He felt Alec breathe in
and out deeply, sighing heavily a few times. He seemed to be calming down, and
Jace could swear he had felt his friend's heart skip a beat. Alec pulled out of
the embrace and looked at Jace. He held up his hand and stroked Jace's cheek,
running his finger down and along his prominent jawline. "I know." He murmured.
"Just not like that…"
Jace looked as if he were going to say something, but Alec continued, "But
thanks though. For everything. It meant a lot." He tucked a stray lock of
Jace's blonde hair behind his ear, leaned in and planted a soft kiss on his
lips, stood, and left the room. Jace continued to sit on the bed, staring at
the floor, praying in his heart that he hadn't just lost his closest friend.
===============================================================================
A/N: Since I typically try to keep things in character as much as possible, the
scene with Simon may seem kinda odd, but my justification is that this was
after he was exhibiting vampiric symptoms. I'd say that after this scene, he
kind of realizes what he's done and freaks out, and THEN he goes to the hotel
to find out wtf is going on with him. This would be my explanation as to why
he'd do something so stupid heh. But yeah, I know, it's a stretch. Forgive me!
:D
***** Breaking, Part II *****
There was a knocking sound in Clary's head. She couldn't figure out what it was
until she heard a door opening and a small voice say her name. "Clary? Are you
okay-" She heard Isabelle's voice go from wary to alarmed halfway through her
train of thought. "Clary!"
Isabelle rushed over to the bed, Clary keeping her eyes shut, but starting to
sniffle a bit. "Clary, oh my god, are you okay? What the hell happened?"
Isabelle knew that something bad happened due to hour red Clary's eyes were,
even shut, her heavily bruised wrists, and her splayed posture. She didn't look
like she'd just had a nice fuck with someone she liked. She looked like she'd
been violated against her will. "Oh, Clary." She said quietly as the red-haired
girl's sniffles grew into sobs. She put her arm under Clary's back and lifted
her to a seated position on the bed. She wrapped the sheet around her
shoulders.
"Here, let's get you cleaned off. Do you want me to run you a bath?" Clary
nodded slightly, barely opening her eyes. "My God, Clary, I'm so sorry."
Isabelle said under her breath as she took her by the hand and led her to the
bathroom. She put down the toilet lid and had Clary sit on it while she drew
the bath. First, she contientiously turned on the hot water and rinsed out the
tub with her hand before stoppering up the drain with the plug.
Isabelle moved to the sink and gave Clary a wink as she pulled out a few
bottles of differently colored liquids saying, "I put a few goodies in each
bathroom, but the boys typically don't take baths."
Clary managed a faint smile, barely looking up. The scent of lavender and
vanilla wafted in the steadily warming air comfortingly. The tiny red-haired
girl was still mostly in shock, too numb to really think or process anything
that had happened, but the small part of her that was still conscious was
deeply appreciative of all Isabelle's efforts. She knew the black-haired beauty
never liked her much, but there was only tenderness in her eyes and movements.
Isabelle was softly humming the French lullaby Maryse had sung to her children
when they were small, hoping the sweet melody would help soothe Clary's nerves.
She stirred the bath water with her hand, making the foam and bubbles spread
evenly on the water. She adjusted the temperature so it was hot, but not
scalding. She didn't think Clary needed another shock today.
Clary inhaled deeply, feeling some strength coming back, just enough to get in
the tub.
"You alright to get in alone? I was going to find Jace and bring him here."
Clary only nodded weakly in response as she stood and looked down at the clouds
of bubbles swaying gently on the steaming bath water. "Isabelle?"
The tall shadowhunter was at the doorway now, hand about to close the door
behind her. She turned her head back to Clary. "Hmm?"
"Could you turn off the light?" Clary was still looking down, hugging the sheet
around her tightly, her voice flat and neutral sounding.
"But there're no windows. It'll be pitch black," Isabelle protested,
worriedly. Maybe I shouldn't leave her alone. She's acting kind of suspicious.
Clary, as if sensing her concern, turned to look at her. Her face looked less
sad, but more tired now. She looked as if she could sleep for a thousand years
and still want to sleep more.
"It'll be fine. You can bring in my witchlight… It's in my-"
Izzy smiled and drew hers from her left pocket. She always carried it with her,
because one could never know when they might find themselves in darkness.
"Here, take mine." She placed the glowing stone on the sink counter and
switched off the light. The modest-sized bathroom was illuminated by the
witchlight's bright glow, but it was less overwhelming than the overhead light.
"Thanks." Clary said, blandly.
"I'll be right back, okay? Really. I'll bring Jace and we'll be back before you
know it."
Clary said nothing, but let the sheet drop slowly from her shoulders to the
floor and tentatively tested the water with her foot.
Isabelle looked at her for a second like a worried parent, then sighed heavily
as she closed the door gingerly behind her.
Jace was still sitting on his bed thinking when he heard the knock sound on the
bedroom door. He didn't have time to answer before the door clicked open and he
heard his name.
"Jace?" Isabelle's head peeked around the corner.
"Doesn't anyone knock anymore?" Jace snapped, but at that moment, it didn't
really seem like he cared that much. It was almost like he said it to make a
point more than anything else.
"I'm sorry, it's just Clary-" She started, entering the room fully, before
interrupting herself. "Jace, are you okay?" She spoke quietly, approaching him
slowly. He looked so small, so forlorn, so openly upset in a way she'd never
seen him look before. Jace, who never revealed an emotion other than irritation
or amusement, who was always so self-contained and heavily guarded. He wasn't
even trying to hide what he was feeling from her, and apparently he was feeling
nothing short of wretched desolation.
"Did Alec come-" Jace's head shot up to look at her as if he'd been snapped out
of a daydream.
"Clary?" He questioned her, insistently, eyes narrowing sharply and gaining
focus. "What's wrong? Is she alright?" He leapt to his feet and headed to the
closet to grab something to wear.
"That'll probably not be necessary." Isabelle interjected, her face twisting
into a strange and mysterious expression that looked as if she were
apologizing, grimacing, making a joke, and pursing her lips all at once.
Jace stared blankly at her as if he couldn't understand what she had just said,
but followed her out of the room without another word, bemusement and
apprehension staining his brow.
When they had made it to Clary's bedroom door, Isabelle turned to the bare-
chested shadowhunter. Jace looked like he was about to push past her and open
the door, but she blocked his path.
"Jace… there's something I need to tell you, but you need to promise to keep
calm… for Clary's sake." She was biting her lip, a painful expression on her
face, eyes on Jace's bare feet.
The golden-haired boy felt his fear bubbling up inside of his stomach,
threatening to turn into rage, as was the way he normally dealt with fear.
Fight or flight, and he hated fleeing. He tried to keep his anger in check,
though, because something in Izzy's voice told him that he'd really regret it
if he lost his temper this time.
He nodded jerkily in assent, jaw and fists clenched tightly, bracing himself
for the news. Images of all the terrible things that could have happened to
Clary flashed through his mind, but what Isabelle said next was worse than
anything he could have imagined.
"Jace… Clary was raped." She closed her eyes as she struggled to get the last
word out. Jace's eyes widened and his jaw practically dropped open. He felt a
wave of sickness rushing up in him and was momentarily afraid of throwing up on
Isabelle's boots.
"What?" He said before he could stop himself. "Wh- how? Who?" He seemed to
return to his senses a little, and Isabelle could see the anger creeping up
into his eyes.
"Who?!" He demanded, his body threatening to lunge forward and make her tell
him.
In the smallest voice, she replied, simply, "Simon." She could see Jace
immediately fume uncontrollably, his ire on the verge of exploding. He whirled
around and was about to take off to hunt Simon down, but Isabelle caught him by
the elbow and firmly held him back. He whipped back to face her, a snarl on his
face as he prepared to make her release him, but she deflated him.
"Don't. Clary needs you. You need to be with her right now. You don't know how
fragile she is; I think you're the only who can help her. You're the only one
she has left now."
Jace felt his heart fall into the pit of his stomach as he realized she was
right. This wasn't the time for vengeance. This was the time to be there for
the girl he loved. He was almost more terrified at the thought of trying to
comfort someone because he'd never done it before. He'd never let himself get
close enough to someone to be in that position, but he was resolved to do
anything and everything he could for Clary. If he didn't know how to do or be
what she needed, then hell, he'd learn. He nodded at Isabelle, looking at the
floor as he put his hand on the doorknob.
"Thanks." He muttered in a crestfallen and apprehensive voice. She put a hand
to his cheek, bringing his face to hers as she kissed his other cheek. She slid
her hands around his neck and pulled him close to her in a tight embrace.
"I'm so sorry, Jace... Just… try to be there for her right now. Be gentle with
her, you don't need to say anything or do anything. Don't think about what
happened, just be with her, show her you love her. That's all she needs right
now, to know she still has someone who loves her and who would never hurt her."
"Thank you, Isabelle." He repeated, this time looking her steadily in the eyes,
his hand caressing her cheek. He drew her face to his and kissed her on the
forehead. "For everything."
Her eyes watched him with compassion as he turned from her, opened the door and
closed it quietly behind him. She prayed that everything would be okay. For
Clary, for Alec, for Jace. She prayed that things would be okay again between
Jace and Alec; she didn't know what she would do if they weren't able to get
past this. As she walked from the room, she just kept thinking about what an
awful day it had been. First, her brother had savagely beaten the boy who was
practically another sibling to them, and she had had to clean him up and nurse
him back to health. Then, on her way to tell Clary what had happened between
Jace and Alec, she hears screaming, sees Simon leave Clary's room, and then
enters the room to find Clary in such a state that she can't even comprehend
what must have just happened. She'd never been too fond of Clary, but she
certainly never would have wished any harm to come to her, especially not in
such a brutal way from the person she was closest to in the world. Isabelle
couldn't even fathom that level of betrayal, but then thought of Jace and Alec
and, while it was totally different, it still seemed like a breach of trust.
Your parabatai was the one who fought with you, fought for your safety. Your
parabatai was there to watch your back to make sure you didn't get hurt. What
then when your parabatai was the one you needed protection from?
After all that had happened, she was getting tired herself and just wanted to
close her eyes and forget about everything for a while, but she felt that she
needed to find Alec and make sure he was alright, too, first. She figured she
should check his room first.
The strong scent of essential oils entered his nose the moment he'd stepped
foot into Clary's room. It was dark, the only light he could see coming from
the gaps between the walls and the bathroom door. He could tell that it was a
witchlight glowing in there. He edged warily to the glowing door and opened it
slowly. Clary was sitting in the tub, crying into her hands. She hadn't even
heard Jace come in. His heart panged with grief and he rushed over to her,
breathing her name. "Oh, Clary."
She looked up into his eyes as he kneeled next to the bathtub, reaching out to
her, and she fell into his arms over the side of the tub. She sobbed harder as
he rubbed her back and pressed their bare chests together as tightly as he
could. She felt like she couldn't breathe, but she didn't care. He was here
now, and that was all that mattered. She broke the embrace and smashed her lips
onto his, desperately drinking him in. He returned the kiss with equal fervor,
anxious to show her how much he loved her, and how he was there for her. She
started pulling him into the bath with her, and he let his towel fall to the
floor on top of her sheet, and climbed clumsily into the water on top of her.
She slid down in the tub so there was more room for him, and he pressed himself
against her, letting every inch of their bodies touch. Things were beginning to
get out of control when she started sobbing again while they were kissing. Jace
broke the kiss and leaned back looking at her. He could feel his heart breaking
for her. He sat up in the foamy water and pulled her to him, shushing her and
kissing her head as he held her. She wrapped her arms around him and just cried
into his shoulder.
When she finally calmed down, she turned around and lay back against him. He
stroked her hair and face, thinking of what he could say or do to help make her
feel better. He loved being in the bath like this with her, but lamented that
the conditions weren't ideal for them to enjoy the situation. Jace couldn't
stop thinking about Simon. He held his rage at an arm's length so as to not get
too worked up about it, but he kept imagining over and over what he was going
to do to Simon to make him pay for what he'd done.
After a while had passed in silence, Jace continuing to caress the small girl
on top of him, Clary looked as though she was falling asleep. He helped her out
of the bath, toweled her off, found some pajamas for her to wear, and helped
her get dressed. He eyed the bed with a look of pain and disgust.
"Do you want to go to my room to sleep?" She nodded and moved to put her hand
in his. He squeezed it tightly and led her out the door.
When they'd reached his room, he asked her if she wanted him to stay with her
or sleep elsewhere. She blinked up at him in confusion.
"Stay with me. Please. Don't leave me." He was glad to hear her say that
because the last thing he wanted to do was leave her side.
When they had crawled under the blankets, she took his arm and pulled it around
her waist, forcing him to curl up right behind her body. It was early, maybe
8pm. There was still a little light left in the sky, but they both felt
exhausted. She didn't say anything for the rest of the night, but he could feel
her heart speaking to his, telling him she loved him and that she was glad he
was there.
"I love you, Clary. I love you. And I will always be here for you. Always." He
whispered into her ear, smoothing her red locks. "I love you." And I will make
Simon pay for this.
Jace's eyes flashed with fury, looking like molten gold, but Clary couldn't see
them with her back turned to him. Even if she had been facing him, she was
already drifting off to sleep, grateful for the temporary break from reality
sleep provided. Jace wished he could do the same, but he knew he wouldn't be
able to rest until he found Simon. And killed him.
A/N: FIN! This is the end of the smutfic. I am thinking of continuing the
story, but with no smut so it can be read by more ages and appeal to more
audiences. I'll make it so you don't have to have read this fic, but also so it
flows easily from the end of this chapter to the start of the next. What do you
think? Do you have any requests or strong feelings about anything? If so,
please comment! Thanks 3
Please drop_by_the_archive_and_comment to let the author know if you enjoyed
their work!