Chapter Text
They fuck in a mundane hotel.
It’s easier to hide here, even with the sun painting landscapes on their skin. Easier to pretend that they aren’t doing anything wrong.
They’d agreed to arrive separately, and Alec’s fingers are shaking slightly as he slides the key card into the slot, wondering if maybe, just maybe, this is the one day that Jace won’t show. Hell, if Alec still possessed any sense, he wouldn’t have shown.
Their affair– this strange, sad thing that has consumed his life– would ruin his family if it ever came to light. Just the thought of the disappointment in his father’s eyes makes him hesitate, pausing at the threshold, the door unlocked but the handle still only half-turned.
A new spin on Schrodinger’s: Jace is both there and not there, waiting to touch and kiss and fuck, but at the same time he’s back at the institute, a good little Shadowhunter practicing his forms. Alec could just stand here,waiting, both possibilities being true and untrue, and thus their sin would remain unrealized indefinitely.He dawdles for another minute or so, perhaps two, but in the end, desire wins out.
It always does.
Alec pushes open the door and something inside him unclenches when he sees Jace, already undressed, staring out the window. Even now, after everything, the sight of him still takes his breath away.
“You’re here.” There’s a tinge of surprise in Jace’s voice, and it reminds him how tenuous this thing between them is, how fragile. One wrong word, one misstep in the wrong place, could bring everything crashing down around them.
Alec puts the thought out of his mind, shutters it away in a corner that he refuses to look at. Compartmentalize. It’s the only way he can survive.
“Of course I’m here,” he says, and then he’s taking three long strides across the room and he’s in Jace’s arms.
He tries to control himself, to take things slow for once, but it’s been three long weeks– the longest it’s ever been since they started this– and Jace is clawing at his jacket and making low sounds in the back of his throat and Alec just fucking loses it.
He’s not even fully undressed before he’s on his knees in front of Jace, swallowing him down as the other bites back whimpers against the back of his hand. When they fuck, it’s on the floor, a blur of bodies and rumpled clothing and pure, sheer want that it would overwhelm him if it had been anybody but Jace.
His lover.
His parabatai.
The room is a mess by the time they’re done, and Alec only has a vague recollection of why the desk has been upended, the couch overturned, the mattress laying half off the bed. He can still taste Jace on his tongue, still feel him inside of him, still revel in the touch of his skilled hands.
“You’re worth it, you know,” Jace is speaking now, though he looks no less devastated. He’s lying next to Alec, long fingers splayed across his chest. He doesn’t have to elaborate; they both know what they’re risking, every time they do this.
Alec reaches over and touches Jace’s wrist, brings it to his mouth and kisses the pulse point.
“No,” he says. “I’m not.”
Jace makes a small noise in the back of his throat, as if he wants to argue, but Alec is already releasing him, turning his back on his parabatai.
“You should leave first.” He doesn’t say anything else, and they’ve done this enough times that Jace knows that attempting to continue would be an exercise in futility. He moves to get dressed, the bed dipping slightly and bouncing back up as he leaves, and Alec doesn’t have to turn his head to know that he’s angry.
A stomp as heavy boots are put on, a rustle of leather as his jacket is shrugged on. Then, finally, the door slams shut.
He’s alone.
Alec closes his eyes and sleeps.