This is my very first The Infernal Devices fanfiction, and also my first Heronstairs fanfiction. I've yet to finish the series, only being on the second book, so please forgive me if I'm not entirely accurate ... This fanfiction takes place several days before Tessa comes to join the Institute, so there shouldn't be any spoilers.
Title: The Sweetest Rose
Summary: Their love was a forbidden fruit, but it was a fruit in which William could never stop craving; like the juiciest of strawberries; the tartest of limes. And this man, Will's parabatai, whom he so shared this fruit with, was nothing more than a lone rose in a garden of daises. Alluring, but dangerously so. "It hurts to know that our yearning is held in such tragic sorrows."
Word Count: 3,205
Genre: Romance/Angst
Fandom: The Infernal Devices by Cassandra Clare
Pairing: Heronstairs (William Herondale x James Carstairs)
Rated: NC-17
Warnings: Though this contains no spoilers, lurking inside is what is known as a Yaoi Lemon: Yaoi being homoerotic relations between two men, and a Lemon being a very-detailed writing depicting it ... It's not as detailed, perhaps, as many would make it, however, my warning still stands. If you don't like it, don't read it. You will not be warned again. Don't like, don't read.
Reviews are very much appreciated!
The Sweetest Rose
'Give me my Romeo, and, when he shall die,
Take him and cut him out in little stars,
And he will make the face of heaven so fine
That all the world will be in love with night,
And pay no worship to the garish sun.'
Shakespeare's Romeo and Juliet
Lucid ivory filtered its way delicately through a thin sheen of transparent glass, sneaking past white satin curtains, and spilling its essence across all that it touched. Sweet melodies of the most sorrowful notes filled the large room in which the most delicate of creatures remained within. With each quiet flux of the arm, a new melody was produced, perhaps far sweeter than the last. Silver hair cast white in the velvety moonlight that shrouded the porcelain doll of a man in its essence, and pasty skin given an even ghostlier pallor, he seemed unaware of the world around him. His eyelashes fluttered cautiously against his cheeks, giving the evanescent dram that he was going to open his eyes. However, the beauty did no such thing, and merely continued to play, possessing the royal grace of the most agile feline. The lacquered violin continued to hum its sorrowful melody, and he was unaware as the door to his room creaked open, slowly; slowly, until a thin ray of light cast a golden glow across the wine-colored carpet, and he even remained unaware as another presence made itself known in his small abode and watched him with intensity burning in his eyes. Or perhaps he did know, and perhaps he only chose to ignore the slight intrusion.
Quietly, oh so quietly, the intruder padded through the room with an ethereal tact; brisk steps were taken towards the foreign elegance, whom was so tediously practicing at his music. The stranger allowed a few timeless moments to gaze in adoration at the man, whose body was lean, yet shoulders so strong and broad. His shirt rippled gently with every movement of his arm, and his hair laid perfectly and undisturbed atop his head. It was like watching a statue; a beautiful masterpiece ... But it moved. It breathed. It thrived. ... And it made even the strongest of hearts weak at a single, breathtaking glance. Still so very silent, a hand reached towards the colorless emblem, longing and yearning to touch him .. However, the hand hesitated just before contact was made, as if countering its original decision ... As if afraid even a light caress would send this boy shattering into thousands of glimmering pieces. The appendage withdrawing, the guest let it fall back to his side, and merely listened to the brilliant strumming of the instrument. He was captivated.
Blue eyes holding affection unparalleled, a rare - oh so very rare - smile murmured across rosy lips of porcelain, and the icy heart hidden away within his chambers tugged longingly. Such beautiful blasphemy this tender fawn was ...
"Will ... Is that you? I can feel you standing there."
The gentle murmur permeated the air, bringing attention back to the intruder - who so brazenly dared to make his existence known - with a start. The boy who held his captivity's eyes had opened; eyes that were the perfect shape of almonds, displaying two dark pools; pools the color of the most precious silver. Such an exquisite delicacy ... Painted of the very most odd combination of colors, he held the mystique of a glimmering star cast away in the night sky; his pallor so very white and pale, he stood out against the dark backdrop of the night. Even in the soft moonlight, he didn't seem to belong ... His voice was always so very soft and subdued, it could bring even the most dangerous of beasts down to their knees in submissive turmoil. An expression, of course, because that was never how it worked in the world of the Shadowhunters. As the beauty gazed at his intruder, he did not look frightened, nor surprised, nor angry nor apathetic. Rather, he held gentle affection in that sterling gaze of his, coupled with a look akin to that of yearning and desire. His lips quirked upwards in a gentle slope.
The music had long-since stopped droning, and the boy's arms were at his sides. The two gazed at each other for the longest moment, their eyes engaged in an eternal rondo. The silence was deafening, however, it was one that could be tolerated. Neither seemed inclined to move, and the only noise that dared disturb the air around them was the light intake of breath; their chests rose and fell as one. Finally, the boy whom had been addressed as "Will" reached up with a large, calloused hand, and he moved to brush a few of those fine silver locks out of the other's eyes. His hair was smooth and soft to the touch; it held the affinity of silk, the character of a pool of water ... Soon, his fingers were threaded through the doe-like body's hair, and he was caressed with a tender touch. His skin was flawless under Will's rough, burly palm. He leaned forward, placing a chaste peck - an action so unlike him - upon those plump, pale lips. It was quickly followed by a sharp intake of breath. Not his breath.
"William ..."
The other body murmured against his lips, and though it held reprimand, there was no accommodation made by the boy. He let it happen as if it were the most normal thing in the world ... Maybe it was. Despite his initial protest of the action, he remained stoic and calm - no, not entirely calm; his heart was beating with the staccato of a snare drum - and his breath remained steady. When William pulled away to cup his cheek - the difference in color between the two an alarming variation - a smile - not entirely real, but not entirely fake either - dared sneak across his lips. Silently and briskly, he took the instrument out of the other male's hands before he ghosted over to a bed-side table. He set the item down gently, as if afraid he would accidentally break it. He then turned to face the other once more, his amiable smile turning quickly into a dubious grin.
"Your playing is beautiful as ever, Jem," The smooth words tumbled carelessly out of Will's mouth, holding utter nonchalance, "But I'm quite in the mood to hear something different from you tonight." His voice was matter-of-fact and, quite literally, a bit haughty. He progressed towards the enigma of a boy once more, wrapping strong arms around his slim, slender waist.
Jem, or so he was called, didn't so much as flinch at the intrusion. It was as if he was far too used to this type of brazen treatment to react any differently. He didn't regard the blue-eyed rogue with anything more than slight exasperation, but even then his eyes still held compassion in their murky, clouded orbs. His legs moved to accommodate the other male as he was pulled closer, and his expression never once wavered, even as he felt the appendage in which had made home in Will's trousers prod and press against his nether-regions. Actually, his gaze seemed to soften into something akin to the deepest sympathy.
Feeling obvious perplexion - and knowing it was blatant upon his icy features - Jem opened his mouth to speak once more. Though he intended for his words to be strong and powerful, his voice was embarrassingly weak and shaky. It was as if Will had him in a trance; a trance that dared make his legs go weak and his heart pound merely at the sight of him. "Saying such bold things to me, William. You know we can't -"
"That's never stopped us before." Will's voice sent visible shivers rippling up the fair-haired beauty's spine, and something holding the likeness of a whimper slithered past pale lips. "So why, now? ... Have you taken your medicine? Is that why?" The latter question came out of his mouth slowly - deliberately so. It was as if he wanted to test his words before he said them, or perhaps as if he were speaking to a child who knew nothing of the outside world. His gaze of the deepest cobalt slid over towards the other's bedroom mantel, landing upon a small box. His eyes lingered for a few moments longer, before focusing on his companion once more. "Well?" He prodded when he received not even the least bit of an answer.
Despite the aching that he felt, Jem's health always came first. After all: he was Will's parabatai.
An evanescent chuckle came from the oriental male's mouth, only to abruptly cut off when he noticed the dire look on the brunette's face. He frowned then. "Of course I have." He stated, voice thick with conviction as he gazed into those sorrow-laden pools of water.
"Then why can't we?"
"..." Actually, Jem didn't know the answer to his question. It was merely something in his chest - something that ached and stirred, and told him no that caused him to give such a reaction. Something inside of him told him that he shouldn't risk doing such things with a man he was never supposed to fall in love with. Even if his feelings were merely one-sided, he simply knew he shouldn't take such selfish risks ...
When he did not receive an answer once more, Will rolled his eyes in irritation, pressing his lips to the angel's once more, this time with far more force and fervor. A startled noise being produced from the doll's throat, he stumbled backwards as all of the other's force was thrown into him. He was guided blindly backwards, until both bodies fell back and landed upon a plush, cool bedspread. A tactful and skilled hand slipped underneath Jem's nightshirt, skimming across his torso with the bliss of a butterfly's wings. Jem - James Carstairs being his real name - shivered under the sinful touch and attention, his eyes fluttering as his chest arched. His appearance was reminiscent of a blustering snow, his hair the color of a fresh blanket of flurries, and his eyes holding the same color of a gray winter sky. His skin was pale as the moon, and the shadows the faint, milky moonlight cast across his physique resembled the cold waters raging in the Atlantic. He was a true beauty in Will's eyes; far more beautiful than he himself, though many people believed otherwise - many felt his light coloring made him washed-out ... Will didn't think so.
As he continued to touch and fondle, Jem allowed his eyes to fall shut, pleasure and passion burning and itching at his skin. This feeling was only set ablaze as memories - such sweet, blasphemous memories - flooded into his mind with the violence of a waterfall ... Such perfection ... He remembered it all:
The day he and Will met.
That time Will had selfishly gone out and found a memento for Jem to have, to remind him of the home he so dreadfully missed.
Their training together.
The long nights full of conversation and fun.
The day they became parabatai.
And in more recent events, the time they went out to the park and Will attempted to breed a race of cannibalistic ducks ...
No matter what recollection assaulted his mind - good or bad - it always brought a smile to his fragile lips ... It always warmed his heart and made it tug ... And though it also brought a sick yearning, he constantly craved the fleeting reflection of the man he'd hopelessly fallen in love with. The man he could never confess to. Not because he believed Will would be repulsed - though, he probably would be - but because it was against the Code ... Because they would be punished ... Because, if Will returned his feelings in the slightest, they would pay dire consequences - consequences in which Jem was positive Will did not deserve. They could not fall in love, however, there was nothing against the rules about bedding together ... An activity they had often found themselves caught in the act of. The Carstairs boy knew William was only using him for his own nefarious purposes - he felt no kindred attraction towards him in the least, he knew - however, he didn't mind. Because for the briefest of moments, Will's touch was gentle as it nuzzled his body, and his kisses were bittersweet. He'd murmur sweet nothings in Jem's ear, and for the first time in perhaps ages, he would feel alive.
The pristine angel was jostled from his subconscious as he felt the male's teeth close around his earlobe and give a tender tug to it. His eyes flittered open, and before he could stop it, a gasp slithered past his lips. When their shirts had been removed, Jem wasn't sure, however he thought not to question it. A mutter was produced from his mouth and released into the air - in which the temperature did indeed rise a considerable amount since their endeavor began - as the dark-haired male continued to play with his body. An occasional whisper of his name would resound through his ears, and his arms soon found themselves content to wrap around his neck. As butterfly kisses were peppered along his torso, followed by passionate nips and love-bites, as well as sucking of the skin, he quite suddenly found himself asking why he had been against this in the first place ... If it meant for such joy and sensations ... An amused rasp escaped Will's own lips as Jem quite abruptly moaned, interrupting the beautiful, passionate silence around them. It made his cheeks flame.
Suddenly:
"James."
"Hm?"
"Let me make love to you ..." A smooth, sultry reply passed his lips.
"Make .. Love?" He was positive the surprise in his voice was obvious. William had never once called it 'making love' ... It was a new term to the Half-Chinese male, and he wasn't quite positive how he should respond. Was making love any different than simply sleeping together? Jem wasn't sure. However, he found he wanted to savor this moment more than ever before - because he knew, if he did not, it would merely become a fleeting whisper in the wind; pure deception of the ears.
"Yes, James, make love." Will's voice held slight exasperated amusement - as it always did. Jem had long-since grown to get used to it. "As in having sex, fornicating, sleeping together, bedding, mating, and as some people call it f-"
"I know what it means." Jem interrupted before his companion could go any further. "You've just never called it that before ..." He held steady his love's gaze, swallowing the lump that threatened to form in his throat. "It surprised me." His words were an understatement.
"So, will you let me?" William sounded eager and impatient, and upon looking down, Jem could see the tent that had formed in his pants - prominent and ready. "I need you, Jem .." His tone was husky and rough; pure, sugary seductive honey to the ears.
"..." It took him a few moments to reply, but when he did; "yes."
That was all the answer Will seemed to need before they were tearing at each other's clothes and attacking each other with such a fiery passion, it was a wonder neither of them caught ablaze. Whimpers and groans filled the room, coupled with breathless pleads and whines; names were called, limbs were tangled, hair was sweat-drenched and stuck to foreheads. Such sweet vies they were making for each other, they acted as if they were the only two people left upon Earth ... They feigned as if this moment would be their final.
Jem's chest arched upwards, and his nails dug into his temporary lover's back as his rear was assaulted again and again by Will's needy thrusts. White had completely taken over his vision by this point, and a white, sticky substance secreted from his own erection, insinuating how much he had desired this moment; this moment forever suspended in time ... He - they - would feel so empty once it was over ...
They both released their essence together, taking their time in coming down from their high.
Minutes passed - minutes that seemed like hours - before either of them spoke again. Cradled against each other's chests and arms wrapped around their fragile but strong body's, they listened to the gentle pattering of their hearts. The runes that littered along their bodies stood out against the caresses of moonlight that spilled across their body's. Many of them were visible, but at the same time, many of them were not ... The ones that meant the most to either of them - the runes depicting them as parabatai - were dare buried and hidden away in the sheets ... Jem's on his arm, Will's on his heart ... The same location in which a rune depicting marriage would reside ... Will placed a kiss atop of his partner's head, a whisper - so delicate and fragile - uttered from his lips. It was so unlike Will's personality - which was harsh, blunt, and spiteful - to be so tender and kind ... But even he had his moments.
"It hurts to know that our yearning is held in such tragic sorrows."
Jem's attention was caught immediately, and he looked up to meet the male's bedazzling gaze, which was so full of emotion it was difficult to decipher what was what. The light that radiated across his skin made it glow in the darkness, and accentuated every line and slope that he had ... Truly beautiful.
"What are you talking about this time, Will?" James's voice was quiet, as if afraid speaking too loudly would ruin everything and this would merely have turned out to be a dream.
"You know what I mean ..."
It's true. He did know what Will meant. But he knew neither of them could say it for themselves. It was impossible to do so without getting hurt. And neither of them dare wanted to bring harm upon the other ... Such tragedy, yes, Herondale? How their love could not possibly be expressed; how they would eventually come to pass away and never once express how dearly they meant to each other.
"I do ..."
Their love was a forbidden fruit, but it was a fruit in which William could never stop craving; like the juiciest of strawberries; the tartest of limes. And this man, Will's parabatai, whom he so shared this fruit with, was nothing more than a lone rose in a garden of daises. Alluring, but dangerously so.
"Go to sleep, James. And have sweet dreams ..."
'At the beginning of a lie
I whisper
Night tales
And winter moons
Deep within your world
Tip-toeing around regal stares
That gossip and burn...
And I wait for your smile;
Acceptance
Riding upon desire
That should never be
Outspoken...'
Swanlee's (AllPoetry) Just a Moment
Fin
The end is self-explanatory, I think. Will knows Jem is in love with him, and Jem finds out that Will feels the same way. They can't actually tell each other without facing consequences, so they settle at that. A few days later, Tessa shows up. Ee'yup c:
I hope you enjoyed!
Disclaimer: I do not own The Infernal Devices triology in any way. All credit goes to Cassandra Clare, the genius behind the series!
