A while ago a guest asked for some Clace, and I realized it's been a while since I did one for Jace and Clary. They didn't have a prompt so I just kind of when with conversations in the dark… except after a while there wasn't really a conversation… Anyway, enjoy!
Clary is hovering between fathomless sleep and lucidity when the warm plane of Jace's body against her spine draws her to consciousness in a second.
"Hey," he whispers against her neck.
She turns over to see him but the darkness is so absolute that even her hand in front of her face isn't visible. She imagines where his eyes would be, shining golden, like a lion's.
"What are you doing here?" she asks.
"Most women would be too distracted by my very presence next to them to question my motives," he replies.
"Most women would probably also scream is you came into their rooms and their beds without warning."
"I could leave. I only… It's been too long since we slept together."
It has been too long. Jace has been on patrol almost every night and Clary has been trying to spend more time with Simon and her mother and Luke. Between Jace's shadowhunter duties and her familial ones they've hardly caught more that ten minutes together after sundown in the last week.
The distance between them feels more pronounced now, with Jace so close, so Clary pulls him closer, fitting her curves into the circle of his arms, aligning her chest and hips with his.
"My mom would kill me if she knew you were here," Clary says, but the words are absent of meaning, in the midst of the discovery of Jace's skin, coal-hot, under her fingertips.
A large callused hand finds its way under the hem of her shirt. She sucks in a breath before she continues. "She said absolutely now sleepovers."
Jace's hand ascends to her belly button, her ribs, and higher still. "Well, good thing we're not sleeping, then."
"We have training tomorrow. Maybe we should be."
"You're not doubting my stamina, are you?"
My own, really, Clary almost says, but in the dark, in the intimacy of the sheets and the blindness of nighttime, her lips form other words. "What if I am?"
A second hand joins the first, but slips from her stomach to her hip, then slides along her leg, hooking in the hem of her sleep shorts.
Jace's voice is all breath and warmth against her temple. "Then I would have to prove you wrong."
Clary is heady with the anticipation, and it is only her harsh breathing that she hears for a long moment.
The darkness is suddenly filled with a high-pitched laugh and the creak of the bed as Clary tries desperately to escape Jace's hands.
"Hm, I didn't think anybody was ticklish there," Jace remarks, amused.
"Well now you know, you can stop!" Clary squeaks between giggles.
Jace's hands don't linger in that spot any longer, but they finger their way back to places that makes Clary's breath rise and fall like the tide.
"I thought you said your mother would kill you if she found me here? Making noise like that almost makes me suspect you want your mother to come in here and castrate me," Jace says. He chuckles when Clary shifts and shivers, then the sound is swallowed when her fingernails scrape the denim on his thigh.
"Never. What would I do with you then?" she jokes, catching her breath every couple of words. Jace's hand has slipped lower this, instead of higher. She's imagining something else replacing his fingers. And as if he can read her mind, he's sliding her shorts down. His hips pressed against hers is delicious, his breath on her tongue is sumptuous.
"Well, maybe your mother would be kind enough to let you do the punishing instead of her."
"What did you h-have-" breathing, the very idea of drawing a breath, eludes her when Jace's fingers draw away and something else fills the space left behind. He rolls and rocks into her and she wonders belatedly when he took his pants off.
It takes great effort to recall her train of thought. "What did you have in mind?"
"It involves some physical force," he says, into her ear, and he presses into her with renewed strength to emphasize his point. His hair tickles her forehead and his breathing has become as sharp as hers, equal dissonant, frightening, feral noises in the dark.
"Some nudity – you know, purely for humiliation," but even as he says it Jace sounds entertained by the idea. As if he has anything to be humiliated about. Even being as blind as she is right now, Clary could reach out and trace his abs, the lines of muscle in his arms, taut as wires.
She is suddenly incredibly grateful for the dark. Without being able to see, Clary reaches an entirely new height of gratification. With only Jace's breath, his fingers and his voice – as rough as sandpaper and smooth as velvet – her senses feel unleashes. Raw and scraped to the bone. Carnal. Full of hunger. She isn't sure which one of them is devouring the other when Jace next speaks:
"And most importantly, it involved some screaming."
I feel like they're just turning into smutty one-shots so I'll try to make some more emotional ones, unless you guys ask for something else.
Thanks for the reviews! Please keep reviewing!