Disclaimer: All characters belong to Cassandra Clare.

A/N: I think you guys want it to progress faster and at first I want to be this a short AU too. But ideas just keep flooding in. Thank you for reading:) And a review would be much appreciated!

Chapter 9: Helping Hands

When Will opened the door of his house, he felt something was wrong.

The sky had darkened when he reached his house. One corner of his mouth flew up as he saw Jem's car parked outside. He peeked, yet the light wasn't turned on. Darkness surrounding the house like a fog that wouldn't fade. As soon as he pushed the door slightly open, Will inspected the long hallway and staircase, not surprised that a pair of deep brown leather shoes under the little space.

Nothing was on. And that was the problem. He didn't have to scan himself in.

His fingers flipped under his jacket and found the gun in the holster. The muscled body pressed against the wall on his right, cross-stepping silently towards the living room. The entrance was brighter than the others; windows were not curtained, street lamps' lights passed the room and reached into the hallway. Blue eyes darting around with highest caution.

The broad shoulder came in contact with the doorframe. Will took a deep breath before he jumped and pointed his gun inside. But he instantly dropped it.

Jem, was lying in the middle of the room: his limp body was on top of shattered glasses of his broken coffee table, pools of bloods invading into the slits between planks. His face up, streams of crimson red linked his temple and the gray hairs, of which shone under the dim white light. His arms and legs distorted, like he was being dumped onto the furniture from a high place. A pile of files collapsed to the bottom of the sofa.

Immediately Will rushed to his lover's side while putting the gun back. He lifted Jem's head into his arms, regardless of the glasses under his knees were piercing his jeans and digging into his shins. Placed his index under the delicate nose, warm air brushed the skin. Jem was still breathing.

"Jem?"

He asked, terrified when the man didn't answer. "Wake up, Jem." He smacked his cheek, wishing it would be enough to draw him back to the real world.

Will waited a while, and started to feel something dripping on his hands. It was Jem's bloods; his back was bleeding from those cuts. By instinct he tried to call the emergency hotline, but his phone wasn't working. Whatever he did the phone simply didn't respond. Cursed under his shaky breath, he moved his hands under Jem's armpits and stood up, lifted the heavy body up in order to get away from the small glasses. His boots crashed the pieces as he shifted to his right and towed Jem out from the living room, watched carefully not to bump into places. At that moment he didn't care about those intruders anymore; he needed to get Jem to the hospital.

He would kill anyone who stepped into his way, with his bare hands.

The journey wasn't stopped by anything and Will successfully got themselves on the street. He gently laid Jem on his side to avoid his back getting worse and started to call again. This time the phone was connected.

"This is the emergency hotline. How might I help you?" A robotic female voice said, tone flat. Will fired his words in such a hurry that he was surprised the robot understood all of them.

"House 10, Street 11 of Shepherd. A man was attacked and has many cuts. He is bleeding, a lot – send an ambulance!"

Once the address was noted the robot replied in the same emotionless voice, but in a faster speed. "Yes. Please remain at your location. It will arrive in a minute."

As soon as Will heard there was still a minute before anyone would come to their help, he discarded the phone aside; it cracked on the pavement and bounced off to the road. He slowly ripped the shirt and swallowed hard when he saw those wounds. Most were shallow, but one or two deep enough to cause huge blood loss. His rational side told him not to pull any shard out. And he obeyed to the voice in his head.

Right on the far end of the pavement a droid was dashing to Will and Jem. It must have received the report and went here to investigate. It was of a shape of sliver sphere, a head size ball with black lining on the front. It projected green lights on them to capture the scene and send it back to the police center. Will was used to this, and he couldn't help anymore. He wasn't a medic, nor nurse. Simply to comfort his lover he leaned down and whispered to Jem, without touching his back.

"I am here. I'm here now." Then he brushed the bangs out from the sweaty forehead, planted a kiss on the bloody temple.

Sirens were getting closer and soon an ambulance halted next to Jem's and his cars. The backdoor popped and a girl in white clothing jumped out with skills, hurried to Jem's side and was followed by a nurse robot. Will backed two steps away, eyes fixed on the grimace on the Asiatic man. Jem groaned when the girl examined his back; quickly she ordered the robot to change the gravity.

The robot reached out its hands, fingers spread wide like it was connected with strings of a puppet. They moved gracefully – slowly Jem was lifted in the air like someone was holding him up, and was delivered into the car through the backdoor. The girl did not bothered to turn to Will, routinely dropped her words.

"Police will be waiting at the hospital and the droids will keep the crime scene from contamination. We are going to Easton Hospital and you might come with us."

Will knew the procedures. After all he had said so million times that he could do it backward. Yet he didn't foresee the day that himself would be the one to be told those similar phrases, and realized how unreal did they sound. Nodded for no one to see, Will strode to the passenger seat and climbed in. The ambulance took off.

From the side mirror he saw more droids were dashing to his house, whooshing next to his ears. His head was pounding – and he wanted to vomit. The panic of seeing Jem laying there with cuts and bloods frightened him so greatly that his heart nearly ripped apart. He couldn't think, or be able to come up with a reason of why Jem would be hurt. There were too many possibilities.

And deep down, Will thought, maybe it was because of him: that he attracted too much attention, wanted or unwanted. It could be him that pushed Jem to the edge of safety and let him fall down the cliff.

His hands clenched at the knees, Will rested his head on the window.

Magnus only received the news of Jem being attacked the next morning. He was sleeping in his cozy bed with yellow sheet and pillows and blankets, Chairman Meow curled next to his head. The whiskers itched his face.

His phone rang at the nightstand, and the thought of answering the call skipped to his mind. But that person was insistent; as soon as the first call turned to the voice mail, the phone rang again. Grumpily he grabbed the device and put it near his ear, collapsed into his pillow castle.

"Yes." He said shortly and shockingly cold. He couldn't understand why people woke up so early – like now, at five in the morning.

"Magnus," His mind completely sober when he heard the shaking voice of Will. He had not once heard him spoke in such a tone, that so fragile and cracked when his name was whispered. Immediately he sat up and startled the cat. Chairman yawned and off the bed with a soft thud.

"Will? What's the matter?"

"I… I can't explain to you right now. But could you do me a favor, please? I need you to get me some clothes."

"Sure. Where are you?" He asked as he got out and walked to the bathroom, sandwiched the phone between his head and shoulder while squeezing toothpaste on his brush. The numbers 05:13 flashing green at the left bottom of his mirror. He could be ready in 5 minutes. Usually Magnus would spend half an hour matching his clothes and applying make-up before going to work, but at the moment he just wanted to get to Will.

"Easton Hospital. Call me when you're near." Then there were noises, and Will replied quickly. "Yes, I am."

"Mangus, I have to go now." But before he could hang up, Magnus inquired. "Wait –are you hurt?"

Will was silent for seconds, and said. "Just get here…"

Without thinking much, Magnus brutally shoved the brush into his mouth and cleaned himself in the most rapid speed he could managed, and rushed into his wardrobe, yanked a light blue travelling bag from the bottom and randomly pulled two outfits from their hangers, stuffed them into the bag.

Stripped himself he stepped out from the pajamas and got into a pair of form-fitting jeans, a V-neck purple plain shirt and black jacket. Shoulders adjusting the position, Magnus zipped the bag and ran out. On his way he nearly bumped into his butler.

"Magnus, going to work?" The male robot asked nicely as his eyes followed the running Aristo.

He didn't turned back, simply yelled before he opened his door. "Tell Camille I am sick!"

He was confident his butler could take care of that.

Calculating the routes he could take, Magnus decided to take the public taxi. It would be the quickest since they had their own rails system like the metro, but no stopping until he reached his destination. Expensive indeed, but it was affordable for him. He pulled the collar up as the cold breeze had his back hairs stood. Jogging, he turned right as he stepped out from his apartment building and up a bridge. It was a one-way to the taxi stop.

The rail was up high, above all other highways and roads. Magnus walked inside a tunnel with a transparent roof. On his right bright yellow boxes ran in the speed of light.

The pick-up area was not far away. No one else was waiting, so he hurried to the nearest pole and entered his choice on the small screen attached: one person, Easton, urgent. A second later, a taxi stopped in front of him. The shield was deactivated and an entrance appeared on its side. Magnus stepped down into the nicely decorated taxi, gave a more specific location while sitting down on the red fluffy backseat.

"The hospital."

The shield was back and sealed, headed off to the Easton district without interference. Though the taxi was travelling in the top gear, but Magnus felt nothing but steadiness and quietness. The rails intertwined between skyscrapers, if the taxi wasn't moving so fast Magnus could have seen those workers in their little desks, picking up phone calls or having sex in the office. Not that he was complaining – he could always enjoy a show.

The sky-reaching buildings transformed into humongous ancient architectures styling in Roman, Renaissance and many others. Trees and plants blocked his view. Even it was early, Magnus could see countable students running tracks or walking on the pavements. The sun was coming up behind the headquarter of Academy Union. Not far away he saw the hospital, at the farthest end of Easton.

It stood out from those academies grouped in the area, as it was taller and pale white. Magnus never understood why hospital around the world chose the color white to be their tone, as it only reminded him of suffering and death. Yet hospital had joy too. The delight of newborns, tears of happiness when good news were passed. People seemed to forget everything had its worth celebrating side.

The taxi stopped in the middle section of the hospital, where also the parking lots and garden were located. He inserted his trading stick into the hub on the door, the shield again revealed the hole of exit. Stepped out and up the platform enclosed by the same transparent tunnel, clear signs directing him to the hospital reception.

Walking, Magnus called Will on his way to the elevator. It was picked up within a second.

"Will? I am at the reception." His amber eyes darted around, few peoples were sitting at the waiting areas on his left; eyes closed, napping. Some were watching the TV which broadcasting anything but serious issues. Magnus turned his head away.

"Floor 27. You will see me."

Will was husky, and said nothing more he ended the call. Sighing, Magnus went to the elevators and pressed the button.

While waiting, Magnus noticed the wayfinding board in between the two elevators. He was now in the 55th, mainly with common areas and cafeteria. His glance fell down to the number 27: Aristo Male Ward. He didn't like wards.

Everything in this world is unified, at least most of it. One was the style of elevator, which Magnus had to ponder why was that exactly, that the Clave approved of the design – it was made of colorless glass and white plastic floor. Basically if people had acrophobia they could get to nowhere but remain at their house. Or like some others returned to the embrace of nature, living in the middle of endless field of weeds and illegal plants, trees of fruits and farms and vicious wild animals.

As soon as Magnus was down to the 30th floor the surrounding evolved. It was dark there, unlike the bright tone upstairs. Aristos were more comfortable in dim light. A nature of theirs.

He was trapped in this tube, going down in the center. Circles of plastic oval coffins – beds at the periphery of each platform. Magnus cleared his throat for no particular reason. Whenever he tried to bring up the joke Tessa would elbow him in the ribs.

A neon blue bulb was installed two beds interval. The lid was blurry but Magnus could make out the silhouette of an Aristo curling inside, floating. Most were occupied, only two or three each level were empty. Despite of the advanced technologies, accidents still happen frequently.

Magnus had been in one a long time ago. And it taught him to think twice before he acted. He did not wish to visit the terrible experience.

The elevator stopped without a huge shake like some old ones would, and slid the door. Will was easy to recognize; black hairs and blue eyes, his favorite combination. His cat-like pupils tracked those colors down as if it was his instinct, and spotted his friend near one of the beds.

He hurried and stood in front of Will, who was sitting on floor, leaning against the black metal base of an occupied bed. His elbows rested on the knees, hands outstretched. Shirt and jeans were all bloody. Magnus crouched down and asked softly, a little taken aback by Will's blank expression.

"Did you hurt badly?"

He pushed the bag forward next to the man, and watched him closely; there was stains of blood on the pale face, dried on his right cheek and jaw. A path marked by a palm.

Those stunning blue eyes looked up, wavering but stared into Magnus's. He said calmly, "It was Jem."

Right away Magnus lifted his head and now he could see him – the gray hairs swam in different direction as the naked man was immersed into the nutritious fluid. Jem was floating like he was sleeping on his side vertically, hands touching in front of his face and legs curled a bit to himself, back bending to a smooth curve. His face was under the oxygen mask, whole complexion covered by the medical device.

He looked so peaceful and quiet.

Magnus sat on his ankles, soothing Will's arm and he comforted with his greatest sincerity. "He will be okay. Remember the time I broke all my left side ribs and the fractured thigh bone decided to say a greeting to you by penetrating my skin? It only took me two days to completely recover. Though I might have the weirdest dream ever of some nurse molesting me but it didn't hurt at all. I had – "

"a good time with some robot?" Will finished the sentence for him, and Magnus was glad to see the brow was raised in the usual sarcastic way.

"A good night of sleep." Magnus clarified. "But if you have to think that way, don't blame Jem if he really has one. He needs some."

Will chuckled at his joke, fingers brushed his chapped lips. He dabbed his eyes tiredly and sighed, patted the space next to him. Magnus moved. Shoulders touching.

"Thanks." Will said while looking straight to his front at the woman coming out from the elevator. Wearing a white coat and a tablet in her hand, the doctor – Magnus presumed – walked towards them.

"You guys were here with me when I was to the ER." Magnus stated.

The doctor was now stood in front of Jem's bed. She was in low heels and the coat reached under her knees. Random things were showed on the tablet. She introduced herself and smiled at them. "I am Catarina Loss, visiting doctor of James Carstairs. You are his family?"

Without hesitation Will answered. "Yes. How is he?"

He stood up rapidly and Magnus followed suit, brushing the nonexistent dusts off his jeans. Catarina held her tablet parallel to the ground and pointed it to the small flashing sensor located at the right side of the lid. Jem's information was then listing out on the tablet.

Will's body tensed and his breath shallow, eyes fixed on her. She was reading those ant-like letters on the screen, nodding occasionally. When she lowered the device and smiled again to them, Will leaned forward, lightly but still noticeable, and inquired so careful that as if his words could break people, maybe the people was only himself.

"Is he good?"

"He is progressing very well. I am very surprised that his cuts are healing so quickly; now you can hardly see the scars." As she was speaking her fingers drew lines on the lid, indicating where those scars should be. Magnus saw nothing except the same old Jem he knew through the blurriness.

"I have added anti-infection drugs into the tank and he can check out by tonight, if you insist."

Catarina reported and looked at her tablet briefly, then directed her attention to Will. "Mr. Herondale, I believe Commissioner Fairchild wants a word with you. He is upstairs at the doctor office," She waved a robot to come closer. "The nurse will lead you. And I will issue a discharge right now, so no need to be worried."

Will seemed unwilling to leave Jem's side. Magnus thought he must have stayed with Jem since he was here because of his messy clothes and growing stubbles along his defined jaw. He put a hand on Will's shoulder.

"I will be Jem's acquaintance until you come back." Magnus assured. "Go. And you should eat something."

He gave a light pat and let go, feeling Will's relaxed blue eyes on his face. His bicep was squeezed tightly as Will thanked him one more time.

"You have a good heart, Magnus." Will pressed his lips into a hard line, and then turned to follow the robot into the elevator.

"If only," Magnus mumbled, "if only they knew."

His thought was drawn back by Catarina, who excused herself to check on other patients. Nodded and said their farewells, Magnus sat back on the floor, cross-legged. Everything here was so terrifying.

In fact, he was having a nightmare of groups of buffaloes chasing after him when he was in comma and put inside those beds. It wasn't a pleasant dream.

Well, if he didn't attempt to steal the kittens from a local pet store after countless rounds of shots and then was beat up by the robot guards at the first place.

Alec was lying on the bed. Sebastian had left long ago and hadn't returned yet. This brief moment of silence was the only thing he could enjoy, that he was grateful for once in this painful time.

Days were lost; Alec did not aware the flow of time. He had been staying in Sebastian's room since the beginning and he found himself started to grow familiar to the walls and bed. Strangely he felt safe there – he laughed.

What a nice pet you have grown into, he thought. Why don't you just kill yourself and save the family some dignity.

His limps were not his own. Mind was fogged.

Sometimes Sebastian would tie him on a training machine and force Alec to run for miles, saying Alec looked better with muscles.

At first he resisted by sitting on the floor, not moving.

The collar was tugged and he nearly fell over. He looked up to Sebastian and saw his annoyed twists of lines above his mouth. The courage came from somewhere he did not know; his heart beat faster than usual and adrenalines released into his bloods. Firmly Alec said, "No."

A simple urge to fight against the dominant male. This, turned out to be a bad choice. And the reasons of why he did so had never come to him. Sebastian groaned in irritation– something that was rare of him revealing. He was either teasing or playful, cruel sometimes. Alec would not describe Sebastian Verlac as short-tempered or easily offended. But that day seemed to be an exception.

Right after the word slipped through his lips Alec felt a spasm sent through him; his muscles contracted and as if a knife had stabbed into his neck, hurting so greatly that he felt like his head was chopped off. A cry escaped. Hands and legs flying around and Alec's mind blanked for a good minute until he could form logics.

"Get on it."

Sebastian pulled Alec away from the ground by yanking his collar which was still hot from the recent electronic shock, the buzz tuned smaller and smaller. His voice was cold as ice, and Alec had to walk on it cautiously. His neck was still throbbing in dull tingles.

He gulped, got up on his trembling feet. Sebastian led him to the treadmill and tied the leash at the front, making it neither too tight nor loose. Alec wouldn't be choked by it, but he couldn't get off by his will. Tapped a few buttons the belt started moving and Alec bit down on his bottom lip, began to jog. Sebastian would sit down on the bed and took care of his weapons like they were his children. Alec only stopped when he told him so.

This morning Sebastian had put on him the treadmill and left without feeding him. His stomach grumbled and churned. Alec buried his face into the pillow and curled up, hands wrapped around his middle. He shouldn't have thought like this, but he wanted Sebastian to come back and give him food.

Alec whined at this. A pathetic useless Lightwood.

He tried to cheer himself up by recalling the nice memory. Those affectionate stares directed to him and solely to him. Alec wondered what the boy was doing. Had he moved on already? Did he miss him? Was he worried when Alec wasn't showing up at school?

Fingers wrinkled the sheet and the piece of fabric trapped in his fist. He remembered the first time they talked. It was the most awkward experience in his life.

The whiteness of silks was flickering under the light on his crown. He sat straight, a few inches away from the back of the chair. Alec's eyes landed on the fingers moved along the flute, the bones under the thin layer of skin more visible when the finger was lifted. He was lightly tanned, like honey – Alec licked his lips. Maybe they tasted like it, too.

He was sitting at the very front of the group of flutes. Constantly their tutor would smile at him and wink way too often when they were in the middle of a symphony. When he returned the smile politely, Alec had this jealousy burning. And afterwards he felt stupid for the foolish hatred. They hadn't even exchanged a word!

Alec only woke up from his drifting thoughts when he realized there was nothing but silence. He quickly searched for clues and everyone was staring at him with blaming glares. Mouth agape his eyes darted to the tutor, who was fuming and smoke coming out from her head.

"Lightwood. You miss the drums." Her high-pitched voice echoed inside the hall. Ashamed and humiliated, Alec stuttered an explanation but was interrupted by another scream.

"I, I was just – "

"Enough! Sir, now may you pay attention and we wish not to waste our time again. Could you help us a little here?"

Alec almost thought that his ears were going to explode. Nodded nonetheless, he saw those eyes looking at him with a smiled appeared at the corners of the delicate lips. Quickly he lowered his head and flipped the page back to the beginning, forcing himself to forget the shining gold and blue.

Finally the practice was over. Alec did not want to stay in the hall for a second longer; he wasn't used to attention and when he had it, it was never something good. Like just an hour ago he skipped his drums again because he was panicking. And his band mates shot him dead by their penetrable gazes.

Packed the drum sticks into his backpack Alec mumbled a goodbye to his friend and ran for the exit. As soon as he was out he sucked in a fresh breath – instantly he felt better.

"Lightwood?"

A voice sang from behind and startled Alec to flinch. He jumped forward and nearly tripped himself over. The laughter was loud. Yet he didn't mind though, not from him.

The hand clasped his shoulder, and Alec found himself not able to stare into his eyes. Instead he averted his glance to the scattered groups of band mates walking towards the school gate. His shy behavior seemed to amuse the white blond boy. He leaned into Alec and whispered into his ear, making him quiver.

"What were you thinking earlier? Tell me?"

Didn't trust his voice Alec just shook his head and pulled the hand off his shoulder, turned and strode to the train station. The boy didn't give up and walked besides him, teasing Alec with every way possible.

"We never talked before." He said.

They entered the tunnel connected to the Easton Train Station. Alec nodded again.

"You must think I am weird. I am Mark, Mark Blackthorn."

"I know." He managed a mumble and Mark caught it easily. After all Mark was born to an Aristo mother and a mundane father. Something that rarely happened. His sense must have inherited from the Aristo side of his parents.

"I didn't know you cared." Left a remark, Mark stopped when the station entrance was five feet away. He grabbed Alec's elbow to halt him as the other boy kept his head low.

Alec controlled his shriek when he felt the hands on his biceps. Still wouldn't dare meeting the glance, he fixed his eyes on the lean chest.

"Goodnight, Alec." It was low and alluring. His cheeks were flushing severely like he was a virgin. He was, but he didn't want Mark to know. So he nodded quickly and Mark chuckled at his gesture. The grips tightened for a second before he let go.

"Be safe!"

Mark stepped away and walked back to where they came from, since his residence was only streets from the Academy Union but at the opposite direction of the train station. Alec waved a goodbye to his back, feeling silly of doing it when Mark had already turned around. He adjusted the straps of his backpack and grinned largely when he realized a thing.

Mark knew his name.

There were knocks on the door. Alec did not bother to get up as he couldn't. A second later Luke's muffled voice passed through.

"Alec, I am coming in."

Then he waited seconds longer and the door was opened, Luke looked behind himself and only stepped in when he saw no one was around. The smell of meat was coming from him – the young blue eyes instantly focused on the plate of meats on Luke's hand.

Alec swallow a mouthful of saliva, and his eyes couldn't leave the meats which were emitting slight trace of smoke in the air. His hunger prevented him from running off the bed, because he lost his strength and all he could feel from his limps was numbness. He wasn't sure if he could stand on his own.

Luke hurried to his side when he saw Alec; he must be looking weak and terrible. He quickly put the plate down on the bed and tried to hold Alec into a sitting position. His huge palms sneaked under his arms and pulled Alec up, stuffed a pillow in between before he let Alec fell back on the headboard.

"Don't waste your energy."

The older man sat on the edge, one leg folded and was feeding Alec with a fork. At the beginning Alec couldn't lift his hands at all but to take what was delivered into his mouth. He swallowed without chewing, nearly choked on the piece. Luke ditched the plate and took a bottle of water out from nowhere, lifted Alec's chin and tipped the bottle a little. Greedily Alec downed half of it and hardly whispered a thanks. Luke didn't respond, but continue feeding Alec until his hands weren't too shaky and he could hold the plate himself.

Right away Alec shoved the meats into his mouth and munched, table manner thrown cities away. He nipped the clean bones for the faint taste of beef. He wasn't even half-full. But he wouldn't ask for more.

"Are you still hungry?" Luke asked when eyeing him over, checking for cuts and wounds.

"I am fine."

It wasn't convincing though, as his voice raspy and the stomach grumbled at the right timing. Luke sighed and said, "I can't get you more but later. Alec, is there any other injury?"

Despite of the soreness from the unspeakable area, Alec shook his head. It was too private to say it out loud and he supposed Luke could do nothing about it anyway.

"Good. Alec, do you trust me?"

He frowned at this bizarre question; he didn't trust anyone here. Ever since the night of him being separated from his family he had only met Sebastian Verlac and Luke, whose last name was still a mystery. Alec trusted neither of them.

"Okay. I don't need you to trust me. But I am telling you that there is a chance for you." Luke was leaning close, his face tight in alert. Alec could almost feel his breaths on his cheeks.

"Wha – what are you talking about?" They were whispering now, as Alec realized how important this conversation was. Luke hesitated before he dropped the bomb.

"I can get you out; I have made plans and everything is going well."

"How though? Luke. How?"

"Don't be worried. You don't have to do anything but to trust me. Believe in me that I won't hurt you and I will do anything I –" Luke was answering when Sebastian emerged from the sliding door. Both of them stopped and looked at Sebastian, who lifted a brow at the surprising presence in his room. He slowly walked towards them.

"Luke, what are you doing here?"

As he was approaching Luke let the empty plate be visible for Sebastian, implying he was only there to get Alec some food. Sebastian's glance shifted to Alec, and studied his pale face in detail. The youngest turned his head away. Hands fidgeting with the hem of Sebastian's old shirt.

"Just thought that Alec would be hungry." Luke stood and backed up, bowing and stopped when he was behind Sebastian. An act to demonstrate his loyalty and lower ranking position.

The tension between the three was unbearable. Alec was too frightened and nervous to move, even he wanted to hide under the blanket. He heard a huff and Sebastian announced Luke could leave them alone. Obediently the older man exited.

Sebastian just stood there at the end of the bed, body leaned on a bedpost and observed the boy.

"Alec… I don't think you are full yet. Are you?"

He climbed on his bed and went to Alec, his knees on each side trapped his thighs. His hands moved down to his belly button, and further down. The fly was down and revealed the blackness of underwear. Rested his hands on the headboard Sebastian was hovering, and his crouch at the same level of Alec's face.

Bloods rushed off and paled his cheeks. His lips trembled. Alec opened his mouth, but closed again.

"I might forget your little date with Luke if you do it nicely." His fingers found the collar and hooked it, tugging Alec closer to his semi. "Now, cooperate."

Alec closed his eyes, hands crawled up along Sebastian's thighs and massaged it first. Hearing Sebastian's sigh of pleasure, he decided to take it slow. Yet he was urged by a strong pull on his hairs.

"I hope Luke didn't feed you something else."