Title: Pure
Author: ghoulfreak on (ao3)
Rating: Teens And Up Audiences
Show: Shadowhunters
Pairing: Will/Jam
Characters: Will Herondale, Jem Carstairs
Warning: Creator Chose Not To Use Warning
Disclaimer: I do not own Shadowhunters or any of the characters. I do not own the story. This amazing story is written by ghoulfreak on (ao3) Archive of Our Own.
Summary: The moon wrapped around Will like a blanket. He was so beautiful, so overwhelming and so annoying.
"Will?"
He looked up, moonlight caking up his face. Soft angles turned sharp by light, shining so cold and so bright. His eyes were refreshing as water, soaking up Jem until he couldn't breathe, leaving him to drown. Will's hair soaked up the light, making his skin look pale and thin like porcelain. Will looked down again, hiding his face from view. The moon wrapped around Will like a blanket. He was so beautiful, so overwhelming and so annoying.
All Jem wanted to do was take a walk, take a break from the noise. Let the water under the bridge soothe his heart, wash away the powder that plagued him. Will was acting worse than usual, going out at late hours of the night, pretending the next morning that he drank until he passed out, saying that he was sore from the amount of women he held the hours before. All Jem could do was stare at Will, bitter lacing his tongue. He tried not to acknowledge the painfulworryhe felt.
They hadn't talked in a while, mostly passing each other in hallways, Jem trying, and failing, to say a simple hello to the latter. Will would walk quicker whenever he saw Jem, not looking at his eyes.
Seeing Will now– he looks bloodyhorrible. His features were enchanting as ever, but the heavy weights under his eyes made him look dead.
All Jem could do was stare, his mouth slightly agape. Willstillhasn't looked at his eyes. Not once.
Jem walked over to the latter, standing further than he wanted to. The distance felt so wrong, hisparabatairune tearing at his skin, yelling at him togetcloser. He couldn't speak again, he didn't dare to.
Will was slouching, his arms crossed and on the railing. His figure was dull, almost nonchalant, and yet still, Jem could feel the tightness in his shoulders, as if the sensation was his own. Will's head was facing the water, his eyes barely visible. Jem was the opposite– straight back, his hands on his cane right in front, but his face was openly staring at Will. He didn't try to hide his surprise or mask it, Will would tell anyway.
The silence was dense, filling up Jem's lungs and choking him. He was never able to take full deep breaths because of theyin fenin his blood, it ruined everything about him– tainting his blood and soul, leaving him tarnished and unholy, butthiswas different. Jem wasn't blinking, trying not to miss a second of Will's face, of his silk-like hair, of his lips that were cracked and cut with blood, like a twisted angel. Jem wanted to wipe away the blood, his thumb pressing slightly, touching his teeth with the tip of his finger. He wanted, heneeded–
"My love is as a fever longing still,
For that which longer nurseth the disease;
Feeding on that which doth preserve the ill,
The uncertain sickly appetite to please."
Jem blinked. Will's voice was smooth like always, vowels and consonants rolling off the tongue beautifully. An angel choir, calming Jem and his shaking heart. "Did you just quote Shakespeare to me?"
Will's lips pulled upward, his eyes creasing up, "It caught you off guard, didn't it?"
Jem let out an exasperated breath, his hand coming up to rub at his forehead, "You should've picked a happier one."
Will laughed, a sharp bark. There was color in his face, warm blood pinking up his cheeks, making him flush, making himalive. "O thou, my lovely boy, who in thy power
Dost hold Time's fickle glass, his sickle hour;
Who hast by waning grown, and therein show'st
Thy lover's withering as thy sweet self grow'st."
Jem feels a slight pang in his heart, a jab in the flesh. "You really are negative, aren't you?" His voice couldn't hide the shakiness he felt, a slight tremble to his words.
Willfinallylooked up, his eyes meeting Jem's, blue warmth with his silver ice. Jem soaked up Will's full face greedily, tasting the beauty he has. He wanted to kiss Will's eyelids, let him sleep and take away the pain and stress he felt.
He wanted to hold Will's jaw in his hands, feeling his skin; Jem's cold hands stealing the warmth out of Will's skin. He wanted Will to hold his hand, soft and gentle. He wanted those eyes on his skin, marking and looking. He wanted to bite and kiss Will's skin and worship him, feeling the dirt wash away from his blood, Will making him holy and pure.
Jem looked away.
Silence befell once more, a thick smog on them. Their positions were reversed, Jem was hiding, and Will was gazing. His eyes felt blazing, an angel's fire burning everything it touched, scorching hot and solid cold. Jem's breaths felt too loud in his ears, his fingers dug into his cane.
Jem was still as ice, and Will was the warmth that melted him.
Shall I compare thee to a summer's day?
Thou art more lovely and more temperate.
Rough winds do shake the darling buds of May,
And summer's lease hath all too short a date.
"Your hair looks like snow. Have I ever told you that?"
Will was quiet, mixing and blending into the silence.
Jem forced his voice through his dry throat, "No, you haven't."
Will made ahmsound, revealing nothing to Jem. "It's dull in streetlight, but sharp and glistening in moonlight."
"Your hair is a never ending void." Jem turned his head over to Will, and saw his head tilted.
"A void? Is that supposed to be a compliment?"
Jem smiled, his features softening. "It's a black sky, soaking up the light. Some illumination escapes from the dark, coating strands with light. Like light from stars, spilling over the forsaken night."
Will is silent for a moment, his eyes running across Jem's face; seeming to slide on his cheekbones. His nose. His lips. "A man in hue all hues in his controlling,
Which steals men's eyes and women's souls amazeth.
And for a woman wert thou first created,
Till Nature as she wrought thee fell a-doting,
And by addition me of thee defeated
By adding one thing to my purpose nothing."
Will's eyes drag up again, finding Jem's, his voice turns quieter, softer. "But since she pricked thee out for women's pleasure,
Mine be thy love, and thy love's use their treasure."
Jem's hands are shaking.
Will stands up fully, straightening his back. His eyes never leave Jem's.
Please. Please, Will. I need you back. Please.
He raises his hand, and puts it on Jem's cheek; the touch burning his skin. Jem lowers his eyes, it's too much,too much–
The drag of lips on his feel like a never ending symphony, more beautiful than anything he could create with his violin. He breathes. He's clean. He's pure. He's okay.