Not Your Kind Of People

A TMI Fanfic by ChronicLegCramp-Since'99

Pairing: Clary/Jonathan

*Disclaimer: The Mortal Instruments and all its characters belong to Cassandra Clare, respectively*

'Clarissa.'

Clary paused from shading in the shadows that danced across her unhappy prince's features and glanced up. She sat at the base of a cedar tree, leaning back against the bark as the sun beat down on her bare legs and feet. Her fiery red hair was tied up in a messy bun since she'd been too edgy that morning to care about her appearance and curling strands framed her face. She had on dungaree shorts- one strap had slipped down her arm without her realising- and a faded lilac t-shirt that was slightly too snug on her now and was fraying at the hem. Her face, which had been tight with worry all day, relaxed for a fraction of a second before tensing up again, her bottom lip caught between her teeth. There was no one around this section of the park except for her and the occasional passersby.

'Where are you?' the question floated along the wavelength that had sought out her mind and she shivered at the connection.

"Right here," an amused voice whispered into her right ear; Clary visibly jumped and then mentally chided herself for it. She turned, her emerald green eyes falling into bottomless black ones.

"Jonathan," a moment of wordless greeting passed between them, in which they cupped each others face and leant their foreheads together, the tips of their noses touching. After a brief eternity, the redhead's relief evaporated from whence it came and she frowned at the ivory haired boy. "Where've you been?"

"Walking." Jonathan responded after a sigh, pulling away as he masked his expression, stretching his legs out beside her and leaning back on his palms. Clary's frown deepened; Jonathan only went on 'walks' when he wanted to be alone, but it had been a year since the last time. Her thoughts were immediately bombarded with possibilities of what could be troubling him and she carefully slipped her sketchbook back into her bag along with her pencil case. She angled her body towards him and quietly studied his tired face before speaking.

"Mum's going to ground you for a month," the teasing tone she'd been going for didn't sound quite right. Jonathan who had been gazing off into the distance sent her a side glance.

"Well, I'm the only one who has to worry about that, little sister," he replied, sounding devoid of emotion until the end, where he took on an almost bitter tone, unnoticeable to anyone but Clary.

'What happened?' she spoke gently to his mind, raising a hand to tuck a few loose strands behind his ear. He flinched and her hand dropped limply back into her lap, hurt flashing in her wide eyes. She looked away, knowing that she couldn't force him, that he wouldn't tell her unless he wanted to. She hated that sometimes. Hated that there were things he wasn't willing to share with her, when she was always content to confide in him about any and everything. She knew it was silly, immature even, but she couldn't help it. She cherished the close bond she had with her brother, but she didn't like that she couldn't always read him, when he could tell what she was thinking without any indication what so ever, just by looking. He was looking at her now, his dark eyes regarding her and the only hint of reaction the bob of his Adams apple as he swallowed.

"See you at home," he told her then, beginning to get to his feet. Without really thinking about it the redhead pushed him down by the shoulders, her left knee pressing down on his torso. Jonathan sucked in a breath, momentarily taken off guard. However he quickly recovered, grounding his teeth as he glared up at his sister, his hands fisting into the grass either side of his body. "Get off me, Clary."

"No," she said, returning his sour look with defiance. "Not until you tell me what's going on,"

"There's nothing going on," he replied, voice rough with growing frustration. The redhead rolled her eyes, giving his shoulders a light squeeze.

'Then why the disappearing act?' she questioned, raising her eyebrows in challenge.

'Maybe I just can't stand being around you.' Jonathan quipped with a cool smile.

"Now I know you're lying," Clary said in a soft, thoughtful tone, as she watched the colour spreading along his sharp cheekbones. "You love me, you're my brother-" she gasped as she suddenly found herself rolling until her back made contact with the lush ground and something was pinning her down. Her brother was on top of her, his lower half between her legs and his hands crushing the grass either side of her head, supporting his weight. Slowly the surprised laughter that had escaped her mouth subsided, as she looked up at him. Jonathan's face was inches from hers, a lock of his pale hair tickling her cheek and his chest was rising and falling sporadically. Clary felt her heart stutter and begin to race as she lightly placed her hands on his forearms.

'Jonathan?' she smiled through her confusion; for a split second it occurred to her that he was going to kiss her. He leant closer and her lips parted slightly, her breath coming faster as Jonathan's now-lidded eyes travelled from her vivid green ones down to her lips. He was going to kiss her…Clary felt her face flush as her grip on his arms tightened, but she didn't move. 'Jonathan…?'

At that moment a loud ringing sounded, coming from Clary's bag a few feet away. Both of them froze, holding their breath. Jonathan's eyes widened as if snapping out of a dream and abruptly shoved away from her, pulling himself up off the floor. Clary sat up, ignoring her phone and the lump in her throat for the time being. Her brother was standing with his back to her, his posture stiff.

"Where are you going?" she asked hastily as he moved to walk away.

"Home. Where else?" Jonathan answered in an infinitely bored tone, as if nothing had just happened- or nearly happened.

"But…"

"The sun's already gone down. You should head back soon yourself," he continued, stil not looking at her.

"Whatever you say, big brother," Clary tried to make her voice light-hearted, before biting her lip at her choice of words. Needless to say, Jonathan's hands clenched and he instantly strode away, leaving his sister looking on in exasperation.

That night, Jonathan lay in bed, staring up at his ceiling, having long since given up on the hope of sleep claiming him. He couldn't stop thinking about what he'd done in the park. About how, deep down, he wished they'd never been interrupted. He turned onto his side, his jaw working as he felt blood pooling in his nether regions at the memory of lying on top of her, his pelvis trapped between her thighs. Becoming increasingly agitated, he slipped his hand into his boxers and started to palm his hardened member, swallowing past his self-disgust just enough to imagine that it was Clary's hand doing the honours. It was then that he registered the faint tapping on his bedroom door. He swiftly withdrew his hand and attempted to even out his breathing. He listened to the gentle click of the door opening and closing, his muscles tensing with every step of the intruders approach. She got in his bed and wrapped her arms around him, curling up against his back. He wished someone would just kill him now and get it over with.

'What are you doing?' he asked her in a deceptively calm voice; his penis was already as hard as a rock and yet the warmth of his sisters petit frame radiating onto his seemed to make it harder, until it was almost unbearable.

'Sleeping,' her voice was unusually timid and a whisper despite the fact that no ones else could hear.

'Sleep in your own room.' Jonathan returned flatly, the scowl practically etched on his face.

'We haven't shared a bed in so long; it's lonely on my own,' Clary murmured, pressing her feet up against his ankles. 'We used to do this all the time…I'm comfy now anyway,'

'Don't you get it? Haven't you realised yet? This isn't normal- this isn't how normal siblings are!' Jonathan snapped, turning around so that he could fix his fierce gaze on hers. 'Brothers and sisters don't cuddle in bed together- not by this age at least. This is too much, it's unhealthy,'

'We've never been normal anyway!' Clary retorted defensively, hugging her arms to herself. 'I can't just stop being who I am- change who I am. We slept in the same room, in the same bed for years; I was never afraid of the dark, or of the bogeyman coming to get me in the night because I had you next to me, to keep me safe. Nowadays, I wake up every half an hour as if my body senses you're not there and feels uneasy…that's why I end up calling out to you sometimes…but you don't answer me anymore…' the redhead closed her eyes, inhaling deeply and begged herself not to cry. Jonathan rolled onto his back, covering his face with his hands and resisted the urge to shudder as he felt Clary place her hand on the exposed skin of his shoulder.

"…Not normal…" he muttered to himself after a long pause. Gradually he lowered his hands and looked up at his sister who was gazing down at him, a picture of black and white in the dim room.

"…Jonathan?" Clary murmured hesitantly, taking in the change in her brother's face.

"You're right. What difference does it make, when we weren't normal to begin with?" A diabolically crooked smile crossed his face before he leant up and captured Clary's mouth with his own, clamping a hand down on her neck. He watched her eyes fly wide as he forced her down on the mattress, prying her mouth open with his tongue. He focused his black gaze on her fluttering eyelids before they fell closed altogether, as he sucked at her lips none too gently and licked up the length of her tongue. It took him several seconds to notice that Clary's fingertips were gliding up and down his back and that her body was tame beneath him apart from her foot, which was rubbing up the back of his thigh. Jonathan broke away from her mouth and stared down at his clearly flustered sister, who was breathing rather audibly.

'What are you doing?' he demanded in a vaguely chiding tone. Clary blanched, her face reddening further.

'What?'

'Why were you kissing me back?' he asked, disapproval clear on his face.

'Because I wanted to. Wasn't that obvious?' she answered, her features softening as she cupped his face to bring his lips back down to hers. Jonathan stayed motionless as his sister kissed him, stroking his cheek and chewing on his bottom lip playfully.

'Stop.' he commanded, waiting for her to reopen her eyes so that he knew she was listening. 'This never happened and it won't ever again. This was a mistake. Now go back to your room and go to sleep. I'm your brother; try to remember that, will you?' he rolled off her and onto his side, his back to her once again.

'Mistake…?' she whispered into his thoughts, incredulous, but he could hear the hurt underlying her tone. Jonathan squeezed his eyes shut, his blunt nails digging into his palms.

'What you're feeling, it's…just misplaced admiration for the big brother who's always looked out for you,' he told her, as if explaining Pythagoras' theorem. 'Why don't you say yes the next time Simon asks you out? That should help you see clearly…' a heavy silence descended upon them and Jonathan had begun to wonder if Clary had fallen asleep. But then he felt the bed shift under the movement of her getting out and she exited the room without another word. Jonathan let out a ragged breath.

Eventually, he dealt with the hard-on he was still sporting and collapsed from mental and physical exhaustion. He only hoped Clary would forget about him. It was one thing for Jonathan to harbour sick and twisted fantasies about his younger sister, but it was a whole other thing for Clary to offer herself to him without so much as batting an eyelid. This had all been a test of his self-control and he'd lost, badly. But he wasn't going to lose again, not even if it killed him.

Yeah, I know they're both probably OOC but oh well, hope you enjoyed!

Oh and the title is from the song of the same name by Garbage (I thought it suited them, in this story at least...kinda) :P Also, I might upload one or more parts depending on if I feel like continuing this and/or people liked this.