Jalec Secret Santa 2020 | For Polarnacht
Title : (I Hate How) You Remind Me Who I Really Am
Pairing : Jalec
Rating : NC-17
Summary : "Nails scratch their way over to his back. Alec makes him burn. Burn to the bone and drags him right next to him to the edge. Ready to fall and keep falling." There is nothing more vice and violent than parabatai consuming a forbidden fruit.
Tags : Dark fic, Eros Au, Blood and Violence, Corrupted Parabatai bond, spit as lube, unprotected sex, anal sex, biblical angels, mutations, Wing fic, recreating the Spuffy Sex scene, angst, hurt/comfort, cigarette sharing, smoking, biting and claiming, horror, post coital cuddling, wing grooming
It's hard, the shower tiles or the cold wall or doors from the lockers in the locker room, it's hard beyond compare. There are dents. And scratches. And most importantly the mouth of his parabatai is on his in ways that would have them both executed on sight. His nails are digging into flesh and his palms are roaming over muscles and skin. But there is a shiver in his bones and a twist in his gut. The thrill of anger doesn't fade even if every moan makes him feel more alive than he's ever been. His wings push and incise his back. His forehead rests against damp hair. And he peers into eyes in front of him, searching for forgiveness but also confirmation or denial.
"No."
He tears at himself, at his soul, and everything bleeds as lips turn blood red. And teeth eat at him as a way to stop him from making mistakes or take back the word.
"No."
His mind screams blasphemy and self-afflicted hatred.
He walks away.
—
Scouting out buildings is a grunt's job. Finding new outposts isn't something Jace had entangled in his mind when he'd accepted Valentine's proposal. To start at the very bottom of the chain of command had made sense… Or at least at the time it had made sense. Now he sees this clearly for what it is : a lesson in humility, and Jace is learning it the hard way. Next to the 'supervision' that follows him around even when he takes a nap, the blood samples that are frequently taken and the beatings; he doesn't have to fool himself. His thoughts couldn't be quieted out. His father knows this, and he knew this ever since when Jace had accepted to come with him.
Following Valentine should have been an easy pathway to travel upon, something that confirms his use and existence. But all it has done so far is push him into thoughts that before Valentine had risen from the grave, things were easier, simpler.
But stopping to think isn't an option, he doesn't want to think.
He moves a beam before kicking a wooden panel with the heel of his boot. This shithole isn't worth anything. Before Blackwall gets to say anything he shushes the man with a "shut up" and a glare. This abandoned apartment building is clearly not a vampire nest; nor a demon's hideout for that matter. The dust is too old and too layered for it to be anything more than an empty lead.
It's too exposed and too broken down to become a hub, or anything useful. Which means another round of beatings, but where the beatings are words. He bites his lips, the setup is yet again obvious. And everyone in the room knows it. From time to time his father does give him missions : stopping downworlders from hurting or killing mundanes, sweeps and cleansing of witches who summoned monsters from hell dimensions and a few particular warlocks who're selling their poisonous blood as a drug to desperate teenagers.
It makes sense, it has to make sense, but with every step and fake mission, doubt grows in his mind; when his father talks it feels inspiring, just and even righteous. But once outside… everything becomes empty promises and speeches, and when he is back on the battlefield it all becomes fully hollowed out. Shadowhunters are dying out. And most battlefields which Jace is sent on to fight, are devoid of conflict.
Of course these are tests, tests of loyalty, in the midst of which feelings are rising in Jace's mind and Valentine is watching, watching if his son is strong enough to fight them off. Or be weak and be the disappointment he's always been.
Jace breathes in.
There is a pain in his chest and a hum under his skin.
He hits the counter of the overthrown reception desk. It startles the two other shadowhunters.
His mind locks onto the pain.
"Get out." He gestures. The disapproving look he is given makes his anger flare. "Before you say anything, Coldridge : no, I won't run or whatever my father has said I would do if I'm ever left alone. Raziel wept, I can do things on my own sometimes and right now I need to hit something, unless you want it to be your face, I suggest you get out."
He sees the shadowhunter aiming for his sword and another wave of pure uncontrollable hatred coats Jace's mouth.
He takes out his seraph dagger.
There isn't even a clash of weapons, the throat of Coldridge spurts out blood and a muffled scream escapes the gash that used to be his throat. Jace watches as the shadowhunter falls dead on his knees, revealing Alec from behind him. The next attack has Blackwall dead. Jace blocks Alec's attack as the fury is turned toward him. The ache in the rune on his hip is strong, it almost distracts him.
Every step, every blow, they are synchronized steps, a dance. And there are grunts, the sheer force deployed has them both panting. And Jace feels his body hum, his whole mind concentrates on only one person.
Alec, and the heavenly fire in his eyes. It burns.
The blood in his body runs its course too fast but too slow, his runes light up as he throws Alec against the wall, aiming with the point of his dagger at his parabatai's heart. He gets thrown off and parts of the wall collapse and crumble. It breaks down. Another blow to the sternum knocks the air out of his lungs. He feels a growl tear out of his throat as he dodges Alec's armed fists once more. He grabs the sleeves of his parabatai and with his enhanced strength he knocks Alec against the stairs.
There are hits against his face, it makes him spit blood, his lip is caught between his teeth. He searches for Alec and for a split second he sees himself pounding his fists on his own face. It brings him off balance and his parabatai gets back at him. He gets up and throws Jace against the broken chimney, only to lift him back up again and hit him again. And again. The stench of blood and torn skin permeates the room and Jace feels his eyes burn as he blocks the punch aimed at his brow.
He throws Alec against a pillar. He pushes the dagger right under his Parabatai's chin. Not enough to cut. But enough to threaten. They are out of breath, and their rune bleeds, Alec's wings flutter as Jace crosses his gaze. Jace's hand is on the hard muscle of Alec's stomach. His shirt is torn and there are only rags left. He holds Alec's nape of neck as he guides Alec's mouth to his.
It isn't gentle. Teeth and tongues become most of it. And Jace can feel his face burn as things shift on his forehead and cheeks. He closes his eyes as the other ones open, looking at Alec, looking at them. His hand undoes Alec's belt. And Alec fumbles with his. Jace pushes Alec against the pillar so he doesn't move as much as he wants to, is willing too, the dagger is still at at his parabatai's throat. It cuts and blood spills again.
Jace licks it up. The taste of blood makes his mind draw blank.
Alec's trousers are discarded in the dust between broken wood and stone.
Jace spits in his hand. Alec lifts his legs and locks them behind Jace's lower back.
Alec tilts his head backwards as Jace penetrates him deep within. The burn is good, more than good. Jace drinks in how relaxed his parabatai looks for just a split second. His cock drives in deeper and the moan that rips from Alec's throat is guttural. He feels right, like a silent plea that's finally heard. His hand finds support next to Alec's head and the dagger pushes against Alec's throat. Forbidding his parabatai to move more than necessary. There is a whine on Alec's lips and Jace kisses the sounds away. He laps at Alec's mouth as if his thirst would never quench.
His minds spirals in the feeling of them together.
His whole body burns as his hips move in a rhythm that doesn't ever slow down. Alec groans, growls, and Jace meets him right there; pushing him to the edge of vice and despair. Nails scratch their way over to his back. Alec makes him burn, burn to the bone, and drags him right next to him to the edge. Ready to fall and keep falling.
Jace drops the dagger.
He shrugs his Jacket lower, his whole back feels like he's on fire. The growls that escape him aren't anything remotely human anymore. His angelic rune vibrates. The smell of ozone rises. His hunger doesn't sate, the violence and pain do not soothe, it consumes; it breaks.
It kills.
His back tears open, finally birthing his wings from his back, their ivory white glory. Blood drips from them and Jace cannot contain the clamor of pain. He fists Alec's hair and pushes his face to the side. His teeth sink into Alec's runed neck with ease to muffle the scream. Blood trickles down and his thrusts become more brutal, more restless. Alec clamps down, yelling of pain and pleasure as Jace's teeth go deeper. Jace wants to be closer, searches to be closer, to his parabatai, his soul's other half. Alec's hands go through the tatters of what was previously his shirt. But the caresses of nails don't live up to the chant of his name on Alec's lips; Alec is his and only his. There are just sounds but the message is sent in between them. There is more than the rune on their hips now and Alec's wings keep on fluttering every time Jace's cock goes back into him.
Jace feels his footing falter and the wood splinters under his feet. And he lets go of Alec's hair to support the legs around his waist. His orgasm builds up faster and faster and Alec's desperate movements make him dizzy. Alec belongs to him, is part of him, they are part of each other. And they would burn the world down to prove it. Walking away should have never been an option, for either of them.
Alec grabs his own hair, howling his pleasure. And Jace looks in awe and complete undeniable devotion at the wonder of his parabatai's inner soul. As his face shifts and the numerous eyes embedded and awakened in both their faces' skins close and open and the vibrations between them heighten. Jace whines a plea and Alec's hips buck against him. His cock is hard and leaking. Love doesn't encompasses what he-they feel. It's stronger, much stronger. It's everything and Jace forgets where they even begin or end. There is only infinity between them and Alec's kiss is testimony to it.
It breaks whatever reality is meaning to them, when they move the world shakes, and the pleasure, the pain. It tears at them.
Even ejaculation doesn't make any difference to it; It happened between the breaking of the floor and the toppling over of the pillar they were against. Both Alec and him come at the same time, their heartbeats racing, pounding to the walls of their chests. Jace lingers inside, grinding himself a little while longer, met with Alec's spent and shallow thrusts. Until their whimpers die down and their body can break apart once more.
"When did the building come down ?" Alec asks once they stop. Jace kisses him. It's slow and gentle. He smiles and looks up at the broken out ceiling above them.
He sits back, Jace can't keep his grin from his face. "Don't know, don't care." Alec chuckles at his response. There are the lingering tugs on his hand. The eyes are gone. He massages the spot. Alec sits up and takes Jace's hand. He massages the spots on Jace's arm that feel just as sore.
"To be fair, is there anything I can say that can explain everything after all that happened just now ?" Alec shakes his head and Jace notices a quiet calm energy emitting from his parabatai. He still feels Alec as if their connection never broke in the first place.
Alec sits back and searches for Jace's stele in his boot strap. His face looks so relaxed and at peace, a side of Alec Jace hasn't seen in years. He reaches in his trousers to take out his pack of cigarettes. His eyes lay on Alec's back. He lights his cigarette, feeling the rush of smoke in his lungs. "Your wings are beautiful." He says as he exhales. He brushes the feathers with his hand, taking out a piece of wood that's stuck in between them.
"So are yours." Alec's eyes bear into his and Jace feels himself giving in to something even more profound. He feels safe, the safest he's ever been and felt in his life. Alec curls their fingers together before grabbing his wrist. Jace takes another drag from his cigarette. He blows the smoke away from them. Alec draws an Iratze with perfect precision. It glows golden before it mostly fades back into the skin.
"Please let me." Jace takes the stele from Alec's hand and puts a hand on Alec's nape of neck. His parabatai stops him before he can draw the Iratze on his body.
"No, I want to keep your marks." Alec kisses him and any doubt flies away. His wings shiver and straighten before enveloping his parabatai close to him. It reminds him how Alec is the only home he'd ever need. And that his tongue is the intimacy that would split his whole wide world in three. The sense of completion seeps into every inch of his being. Kissing Alec is like a celebration of the liberation of his soul.
He breaks the contact of their lips. The fire in his eyes burns down.
He takes another piece of wood out of Alec's wings.
Alec takes the cigarette from his hand.
Jace watches as Alec brings his lips around it.
He takes in the smoke and his blissed out expression makes Jace's heart race. Alec exhales the smoke between them. Jace's hand covers his he kisses Alec and takes the cigarette away. His fingers tap away the ash. Alec's hands enclose his cheeks and his parabatai kisses him deeply.
The cigarette burns down without any further touch.
They don't have to talk about staying. Jace discards the rest of his clothes. He holds Alec's hand as he helps him to stand up. They climb down the rubble. The dust and wood are scattered, crumbled, splintered, dangerous to walk on. Alec tugs at his hand and points his chin toward a room to the left. A broken down bed is left with debris and stones. Jace goes first, before helping Alec down. His arms hold Alec firmly around the waist. He doesn't seem to be able to stop smiling. Even when he lifts Alec up.
They look at each other before bursting out in laughter and Jace throws Alec toward the bed. They clear it of wreckage and stones. Alec finds tarnished amber brown colored sheets. Jace rests against him, picking his wings clean from dirt. They're sensitive, but react calmly to Jace's touch. Alec does the same for him. And Jace feels himself relax in the caress.
There is the worry of the wings never leaving them, an uncertainty of what tomorrow would bring once the sun rises again. But as Alec wraps them both together with their blanket, Jace's mind stills.
He looks at his parabatai's face.
He can't be with anybody else.
He doesn't want to live for anyone else.
Alec is his whole wide world and being here is everything he wished he could ever have.
Even if the sun won't shine on their room anymore.
The end