Forbidden
Jem's heart races faster, faster still, as Will's lips press into his neck, a breathy moan escaping his lips as his head lolls back. He feels the smirk against his skin and then Will bites down hard, and then he feels Will's tongue languidly lap against his skin, and by the Angel, it feels so good.
Forbidden.
Everything about them was forbidden, they were both boys, they were parabatai. It was forbidden to fall in love with your parabatai, and though they never said it, it was there. In Jem's smile, in Will's eyes.
Forbidden.
They couldn't take anything slow like Jem wanted. It was all quick and over too soon, in secret. They knew the other like it was their own body, using teasing brushes, meaningful glances and secret smiles to their advantage, to break the other down first.
Jem always won those contests, with hooded eyes and a slow smirk-he could be as seductive as Will if he wanted, he could be as outgoing as Will. He was just as beautiful as Will, even more mysterious, with his silver hair and eyes, pale skin. He was ethereal, the angel to Will's devil.
Forbidden.
Jessamine knew, of course. How could she not, she was always the first to spot love, even if it was the most minor crush. She knew, by how Will blushed-and Will never blushed-when Jem flicked the tip of his eclair with his tongue with a breathy sigh, by how Jem absently played with Will's hair when the raven sprawled across his lap, by how much...happier Will seemed after that night when he and Jem came back, flushed, beaming, soaked, from "falling in a river". She didn't want to know what had really happened.
Oh, and by the muffled moans and screams she heard from their rooms. And that one day when Jem and Will stumbled out of Jem's room together, hair mussed, smiling, holding hands.
Forbidden.
Will's heart beats in time to the word, forbidden, forbidden, forbidden. It could practically be his middle name: William Forbidden Herondale. He's never cared much for love: everyone he loves gets destroyed. But then Jem. Jem changed that, made him want to love. And then that fateful night on Blackfriars Bridge happened, and now...he loves his parabatai. He's in love with James Carstairs, and it's killing both of them.
Forbidden.
Will's heart races as he remembers all of Jem-of Jem's sugary, spicy taste, of the feel of Jem's soft hair running through his fingers, of each and every dip and contour of his thin body. Even the way Jem moaned, whispered, screamed his name. By the Angel, he missed how Jem kissed him, how Jem touched him gently, as if he were a fragile instrument.
Forbidden.
James Carstairs knew it was forbidden to fall in love with your parabatai. Especially if they were the same gender as you. But you couldn't avoid that with William Herondale. Jem was the player, and Will was his violin, and Jem rendered every sweet note from him, every moan, every scream. And yet Will had a mind of his own, and it seemed like the played was the player, for WIll made Jem say things, feel things, do things that he didn't want to, didn't mean.
Forbidden.
And what would Tessa say, if she knew? That both of the boys she thought loved her were playing her like a fool? Will, she would expect, but Jem...Jem wouldn't ever do anything so...
Forbidden.