Here you are, as promised, a Thursday Will/Jem update! :) Hope you like it.
Will and Jem belong to Cassie. The plot and other fun stuff belongs to yours truly. AllieAmberwhite and valiantmongoose, you know I love you guys :)
Just Like Heaven by Charlotte Martin (The Cure cover)
"You really shouldn't watch that stuff. It'll rot your brain cells," Jem remarked, coming in from the kitchen carrying a bowl of cereal. He saw Will eyeing it, no doubt discovering it was Lucky Charms. "Don't even think about it. You're not getting any." He sat down on the opposite end of the loveseat, trying to shield the bowl and spoon a bite into his mouth at the same time. Sammy and Ronnie were bickering on the tiny television. Jem rolled his eyes.
"Please? Just one bite?" Will turned on his blue puppy eyes. Jem tried to hold his ground. Will had been an ass to the clerk at Crate & Barrel earlier. He didn't deserve any damn Lucky Charms.
"Why should I?" Jem asked with an eyebrow raised.
"Because you love me? Come on, just a red balloon?"
"Fuck you if you think you're getting a marshmallow. You can have a shitty cereal piece," he said, fishing one out and holding up the spoon. He was never able to fully resist Will when he looked at him like that. Some people said he looked a lot like Alexander Lightwood, but Jem never saw it. Sure, they had the same coloring, they were both athletically built, all that. But Will was just…Will. He was different than any other man Jem had known. He could be a complete dick one moment—usually when they were in front of people—and then turn into the sweetest creature on the planet the next—when they were alone. Jem liked that about him. Most people wouldn't, but he liked being the only one to know William Herondale's soft side.
Will took the bite, smiling up at him. Jem rolled his eyes and reached over to place a kiss on Will's full lips. He couldn't help but smile.
Jem took a deep breath, trying to gather his resolve. He didn't like telling Will things like this, because it only made him worry, but Jem knew he deserved to know. "So," he began softly, spooning a full bite into Will's mouth. "I saw the doctor yesterday."
Will finished chewing and looked him in the eye. "Mmhm. And?"
Jem paused for a moment.
"Come on, James. Please don't look like that; you'll give me a heart attack." His blue eyes were already filling with worry, and Jem couldn't stand it.
He took another deep breath. "He said my viral count is rising. Now, before you get your undies in a knot, that's not that big of a deal. My count has been extremely low for a year now."
"Okay. What's the rest?" Will implored. Jem cursed that his lover knew him so well.
"Well…he said that there are spots forming on my liver. He thinks it's from the inhibitors." Jem let out a sigh and averted his gaze. He waited while Will took in the news. He was expecting the usual: 'you need to rest more', 'you need to take care of yourself', 'we'll change your diet again', 'get the doctor to change the dosage'. All those things he'd heard before, ever since they'd gotten together. Whenever Jem's health took a downturn, Will was always there with a thousand different solutions, spouting them off one after the other in an attempt to calm Jem when in reality it was Will who was freaking out. Jem let him, because he knew it was only because Will cared. He hated that he caused him to worry, but it couldn't be helped.
After a sizeable pause, Will finally spoke. "We're going back to New York," he said with quiet conviction.
Jem's head snapped up at that. "What? No way."
"James, I will not live in fear of you collapsing somewhere without anyone around, brought on by the stress of the job you have here. I will not fucking lose you, Jem. I won't," Will said, his fingers gripping the edge of the couch cushion. Jem reached down and pried them open, taking his hand.
"William, I am fine here. The reason I came here was because it's what I love to do. I'm not going back to play in the ensemble orchestra for the Met. That's half the salary I get here! We'd never be able to afford a place like this in New York!" He could feel his cheeks heating up, and tried to calm himself down. That would only make Will more parental.
"James, please. We will find a place. And it's fine that you'll make less. Furstenburg and Calvin Klein have been dying to get me for regular shoots. If we go back, I'll make enough to make up for the drop in your pay. I promise we'll be alright. And most of all, you'll be alright. Jem, this job is way too stressful, and you never even know if you'll play on a regular basis. At least at the Met you had a set schedule. Please listen to me, Jem. Please," Will pleaded.
Jem knew Will was trying his best to be practical, and he couldn't help but love him for it. However, Jem still had his pride, and he really didn't want to let this stupid disease hinder him from chasing his dreams. Sure, he was just an alternate violinist for now, but the pay was tremendous when he did get booked. They'd finally gotten settled in a nice place in a decidedly less stressful town. Jem didn't want to leave LA.
"I promise I'll try to take it easy. I'll rest more. I'll eat better. Just please, let's stay here? We both worked hard to settle into a life here. Plus, New York itself is just as stressful as my job here. What makes you think it'll be different? What makes you think I'll be safer?"
"You won't be alone," Will said. "Camille and Jessie are there. Even if I couldn't be reached, if something happened, they could be there in a flash."
"So this is just for yourpeace of mind and not my health, am I right?" Jem asked. He knew full well it was for his health, but he couldn't resist being defiant.
"James Carstairs." Jem looked up at the firmness in Will's voice, immediately regretting his previous words. "All I care about is you. I want you to be safe and well. Jem I—I don't know what I would do if I lost you. I will do everything in my power to make sure that you live as many years—hell, as many decades—as nature and the power of modern medicine will allow. I love you, and I'm not going to let circumstances pull you away from me before we've even had a chance to live."
"HIV is not a death sentence, Will," Jem said, repeating the words he'd heard over and over since he was diagnosed at 17. "It doesn't mean I have to walk on eggshells all the time. I have you, and together we'll be fine, okay? Now can we please drop this?"
"For now," said Will. He sighed deeply, letting Jem know he was still frustrated but he was willing to let it go for the moment. Jem reached his hand up and caressed the side of Will's face, threading his fingers through the jet black strands that rested against his temples.
"William," Jem said in his quiet voice, beckoning his lover closer. It had an immediate effect. Jem knew Will could never resist him. "Come love me," he sighed into Will's hair, relishing the soft exhale that the action caused.
Almost immediately, with a singular purpose, Will threaded his arms around Jem's narrow waist, pulling him close and sealing their lips together. The taste of Will was like a warm breeze, heating Jem's body slowly, readying him for the coming tide. He let Will take him into his arms, and straddled Will's hips as they kissed deeply. He began to move, causing little gasps from the man below him.
"Come on, let's go to bed," Will whispered into the air between them.
"No," Jem replied, kissing him again. "Let's stay here. I want you now." He nuzzled the tip of his nose into Will's cheek lovingly, rolling his hips and pulling another sigh from his lover.
"Are you sure? I think we left the condoms in the dresser by the bed. Hold on," Will said, pushing at Jem so he could get up to retrieve them.
"No, stay here. I'll be right back, okay?" He leaned down and placed a long, open-mouthed kiss on the side of Will's neck before sliding off his lap and making his way into the bedroom as Will already started removing his sweatpants and shirt. Jem opened the drawer where they kept their stash of condoms and lube, pulling out one and the bottle. It really was second nature by now, considering the extreme precaution they had to take every time they made love, just so that Will wouldn't be infected. Jem had long ago stopped constantly berating himself for putting this burden on their love life. Will had known what he was getting into the first time they were ever together, and he'd said it was fine, so long as they were careful. He'd said that nothing could keep him away from Jem. Jem was damn sure that was the most romantic thing Will Herondale had ever uttered in his life, let alone in the presence of another person, and he had a hard time not believing it. Will was a lot of things, but he'd never lied to Jem. He was open and honest, even when he didn't want to be, and that's what Jem loved most about him.
When Jem walked back into the living room, the sight of Will's body took his breath away as it always did. He was burly, but somehow graceful. For years, Jem's waking dreams had been filled with visions of perfect lines and slow rippling muscles. He felt it was his purpose in life to make music, and letting Will play his body like a fine-tuned harp was just one more way of making his mark on the world, however private that mark remained.
He slipped his tank top and sleep pants off, sliding back into Will's naked lap. Immediately, he was wrapped in the steady strength of Will's arms, moving against him with slow purpose. Jem ripped open the condom wrapper while his lover devoured the tender pale skin on the side of his neck. It had become a sort of erotically driven foreplay: kissing deeply, sliding the condom on. Even ripping the package open seemed to trigger their lust, since both knew what was to come. They'd gone through this exact routine for nearly five years now, and their bodies were attuned to the nuances each movement engendered. When Will's erection was covered, he wasted no time lifting Jem up and slowly lowering him down over it, going slow enough to not cause discomfort, but quick enough to show his need. Jem relished that few milliseconds it took for Will to stop worrying about him and give in to the pleasure of being inside his lover.
They moved fluidly, like they'd done for years. It was rare that they made love outside the bedroom, but the couch was comfortable enough. They weren't prone to spontaneous romps in random places, since they had to take so many precautions, but Jem liked it better that way. It was always planned and anticipated. The waiting made the gratification stronger. They would never be one of those couples that fucked in one another's offices at work—considering, also, that neither of them had offices—they were the kind of couple that stuck to missionary position most of the time, but the once in a while they ventured out into other areas of the house were made all the more special and racy for their rarity.
Jem rose and fell with purpose, already feeling the fatigue in his leg muscles but refusing to let it hinder him. If he'd told Will he was feeling a little weaker today than normal, he wouldn't have given in. It wasn't that Will was afraid to touch him or anything; in fact, Will was just firm and rough enough to prove that he didn't think Jem was some breakable cherub, but gentle enough to convey his concern. Their connection was deep, and they literally completed and complimented each other. Yin and Yang that swirled together to create a perfect world of balance. Jem let out soft moans into Will's hair, and Will held him as tight as he dared. He knew just how to swivel his hips to hit Jem in all the right places. When he brushed over Jem's prostate, Jem cried out his name, which only made him thrust deeper. They melted into each other, as always, moving as one. Will could finally sense that Jem's thighs were about to give out, and he abruptly but gently held Jem close to him as he flipped them over, looming over Jem's slender body, all his weight on his arms that were braced against the arm of the couch. Jem wrapped his legs around Will's hips and pulled himself up to meet his thrusts. They kissed deeply, both of them growing quieter as they neared the precipice. Jem could feel when Will couldn't hold out anymore.
"Go ahead, love. Let go. I'm right behind you," he whispered into Will's hair, lacing his fingers through it. He felt Will's rhythm stutter, then the pulsing inside him that told him Will had fallen over the edge. It was always the look on Will's face as he came that did it for Jem. He let go of his own restraint, and bit down on his own bottom lip as he painted both their stomachs. Will continued to move inside him, drawing out the tremors that followed their orgasm, making the moment stretch on.
When their breathing had returned to normal, Jem caught the concerned look on Will's face.
"Are you okay?" Will asked. "You're pale." He ran a finger across Jem's sweaty temple.
"I'm fine. And I'm always pale," he said with a smile. He knew what Will meant; he felt weaker than normal and yes, they probably shouldn't have done that and he probably shouldn't have exerted himself so much today, considering the state of his health at the moment. But he'd be damned if some stupid test result was going to keep him from loving his man. He'd come to think of it as the gateway to feeling everything in life that he was supposed to feel. What the disease threatened to take from him, Will always put back in him. That feeling of invincibility, of immortality. Everything else only existed on the periphery. Money, comfort, even the music…they all paled to his need for Will. As long as he could make love to Will, he would survive.
I hope you liked it. I have a feeling it was different than what you expect from me, but hopefully that was a good thing. Drop me a line and tell me what you think?