igrab
in
grabi_hands
Indecency and Loveliness
Will/Tessa/Jem . 2,515 words . high end of PG-13 . written for hc_bingo for the prompt "fever/delirium" . massive spoilers for Clockwork Angel . She could feel them crawling under her skin sometimes, like they were a part of her.
It had become a kind of obsession. She knew there wasn't anything she could do - she resented it, of course, but Will was infernally stubborn and while Jem was thoroughly inclined to take her side, at the critical moments, he was much too far gone to be of any help.
Will didn't trust her. He trusted her about a great many things, far more than most people, and some of the things he trusted her to do - to know - fair took her breath away. But he still didn't trust her with Jem.
They'd discussed this. It was a rainy night at the Institute and the three of them had been pressed into the window seat in the library, legs tangled, so they could all talk. It was terribly scandalous but somehow, with Jem buried in her skirts between them and Will nestled into his back, it had been so comfortable.
It was a little disconcerting, but Tessa never truly felt at home unless both of her boys, as even Charlotte called them, were there.
"It isn't fair," Jem had said, in his quiet, measured voice. "If Tessa wants to be present, you shouldn't shut her out."
"She shouldn't want to be there," Will growled. They were both talking about her in the third person, but it was easy to tell that Will, unlike Jem, was trying to pretend she didn't exist.
Tessa opened her mouth to disagree - vehemently - but Jem beat her to it. "That's not for you to decide." It was very nearly the sternest she'd heard him, at least, aside from discussing matters of grave demon-fighting import.
Will turned his head to the window and pressed his lips into a thin line; they both knew what it meant. I concede your point but I can't agree, I'll never agree, and you can't do a thing about it because next time, you'll still be too delirious to say no.
The next time Jem overextended himself - and it was happening more and more often now, his need for the drug beginning to outstrip his ability to keep up with it - Will shoved her out of the room so hard it left bruises, and she had a plan (transform into a big, muscly sort of man - she'd grabbed something from a rough at a pub once for this specific purpose - break down the door, and be back to herself by the time she got to Jem's side) but suddenly it didn't seem to matter anymore. What hurt worse than anything was that Will, despite everything that Jem had told him, despite how close they'd all become - and she could feel them crawling under her skin sometimes, like they were a part of her - he still, still refused to let her in. He may have thought he was protecting one or both in the beginning, but all he was standing up for now was his damnable empty pride.
Before Will Herondale, she'd never understood how you could hate someone and love them in despairingly equal amounts.
Her cheek was still pressed to the door when Will pulled it open, and, not expecting it, she tumbled over onto the carpet. He didn't look surprised; weary, yes, and angry - but not surprised. "Didn't anyone tell you it's rude to eavesdrop?"
"It isn't eavesdropping if you're supposed to be involved."
They stared each other down for a long moment, then Will held out his hand, and Tessa took it, using his strength to lever herself to a standing position.
"He's still sleeping," Will muttered, and there was that creeping fondness in his voice, the one he only ever used when he thought no one was paying attention. Tessa bent to brush the dust off the front of her skirts, and Will did the same for the back. They moved with a reassuring grace, like it was something they did every day.
Only when Jem is around, Tessa thought, the implications stinging but no less true. He's only himself when he doesn't realize it, when the bit of his brain that tells him not to trust anyone is otherwise engaged. But Will wasn't the only one who cared for Jem - and he wasn't the only one distracted to truth in his presence.
"Tessa?"
Will's hands froze. He made a sound that suggested it was Tessa's fault that Jem was awake already; Tessa didn't even notice. She sailed through Will's hands like he was air, fell to her knees at Jem's bedside in a great poofing rustle of skirts. "How are you?"
He winced. He hated the question but knew it must be asked; or at least, he understood that it soothed a heart's distress. But didn't answer it, either. "Did Will lock you out again?"
Tessa took one of Jem's hands and cradled it in her own. It was sweaty and pale and she could feel the pulse thumping alarmingly in his wrist, but it was beautiful. There was no part of Jem that wasn't beautiful. "I was going to turn into a man with muscles and knock down the door," she confided with a slow smile.
A spark of delight danced in Jem's eyes. "Charlotte would be very angry if you broke her door."
"Jessamine would be very angry if you broke your dress," Will pointed out in a cold drawl. He had taken up against the doorframe now, all ice and no warmth, though whether it was jealousy or sheer frustration at their... what? Their affection? It was nothing he wasn't aware of, it was nothing more or less than the way they acted the rest of the time.
Jem's eyes softened. "Will, please, come here." He said 'please' but the way he said it made it sound like 'dear'.
He came around to the other side of Jem's bed, still scowling, but there was that tell-tale twist at the side of his lips and a kind of light in his eyes, and Tessa knew he wasn't actually angry. He couldn't be, not when Jem was smiling at him like that - not when he was so fragile, and so strong.
"This has to stop," he murmured in a sweetly tired voice. "The two of you will be the death of me long before my time."
His face was wry but Tessa still felt like she'd been kicked in the chest - and from the way Will squirmed, he'd felt it too. "Jem," Will muttered, "stop it."
"I'm serious. I'm not going to be around forever, and I need to know you won't kill each other when I'm gone."
Will looked positively wounded. His voice cracked slightly when he spoke. "You'll always be watching us."
Jem nodded and his eyes slid closed, but when he opened them again, it seemed like a bit of struggle. Tessa leaned forward, clasped his hand a little tighter.
He gave her a quick smile as if to say, thank you.
"I love the both of you to pieces. You've always asked me," and he was looking right at Will now, "if there was anything I truly wanted. Any selfish requests of the world. I'm making one now." His hand gripping Tessa's was vicelike, the bones of his thumb grinding against her own. "Don't. Shut. Each other. Out."
She looked across the bed at Will. He didn't only mean 'don't shut her out, Will,' because they both knew how cruel Tessa was capable of being, when she believed herself to be in the right. She could do this. For Jem, she could love him unconditionally; for Jem, she would do anything.
The look in his eyes told her he was thinking the same thing.
Jem tugged on Tessa's hand and she obediently looked away; her knees hurt but she leaned in closer anyway. He was looking right at her now, his colorless eyes blazing with a queer kind of light. Joy, she decided. Loving and lovely joy.
"I'm going to kiss you both," he whispered, and there was wickedness in his voice - but only the best kind. "And then you're going to kiss each other. Are we clear?"
She should have been shocked. She almost was, but it was like that afternoon on the window seat, it just felt like such a natural extension of what they were and what they meant to her, and besides - Jem asked. She didn't even think twice. She nodded.
He turned to Will first and beckoned with his free hand, one finger after the other, a white claw curving through the air. He looked - apprehensive, and Tessa wasn't sure why, but then she was never sure with Will, and he was leaning down all the same.
Their lips locked and Tessa started to understand, because she realized - they'd done this before.
No one kissed like that the first time. Oh, well, there was - in the attic, but - but that hadn't been like this. This kiss had all of that fire (which had been all Will, or vampire toxin, or something in between) but none of the clumsiness. Their lips fit together so perfectly, and Will took control of the kiss like he was born to and Jem acquiesced with the most beautiful little sigh - the sigh of relief, of well-worn puzzle pieces locking together easily. His hand cupped Will's cheek and stroked it delicately, and it was such a gentle counterpoint to the way their lips brawled.
Tessa felt her own lips part and her breath come up short in her chest. It was the most scandalously beautiful thing she'd ever seen.
There is so much bad in the world, she thought, as Jem tilted his head and Will pressed him a little further back against the headboard. Calling good things bad - that's for people who've never seen true evil. Love - true love, not just lust or obsession or misplaced reverence - that is always good.
They broke apart with a startled gasp, and Will's eyes were like twin oceans, stretched wide and miles deep. He bit his lip, like he wanted to keep the taste of Jem on his tongue forever - and Tessa didn't blame him. How could she? Every kiss from Jem must have felt like a blessing from God himself.
Jem turned to her, then. He worked his hand free and that confused her, for a moment - but then he shifted until he was sitting up properly, and took her face in both of his hands.
She was kneeling on the floor so he had to bend down just a little and his thumbs rested perfectly under her cheekbones. Just before their lips touched, he smiled the smile he only smiled for her. His smile for Will was indulgent, Charlotte gracious, and everyone else just the tiniest bit glassy and unreal. When he smiled for her, he smiled with his whole heart, with no shame, no boundaries, like she was this beautiful treasure that he'd found when he'd only been looking for skipping stones.
He made her feel like she was already perfect, but she couldn't be, because she wasn't nearly as perfect as him.
He kissed her gently, then sweetly, then something within her turned that rush into an ache, and her lips were parting and she was sliding her tongue along his in a rough, sensual line. He made a sound - something pleased and wanting in the back of his throat, and suddenly she had a hand wrapped around his neck, and she was kissing with all the fire and control that Will hadn't let her (or rather, she hadn't let herself) feel.
Jem moaned. Very softly, but she could feel it pooling within her like hot oil, and she knew what he was telling her wordlessly. I want you to kiss him like this. I want you to fight him. I want him to tear your clothes off because he can't get enough. You're not a china doll, but I am, and he wants this, and I can't give it to him.
She drew in a breath because she had to, because she was seeing stars. Jem moved back and she frowned, she didn't want to stop, she wanted to kiss him and kiss him and kiss him until that ache became a burn and that burn became light and that light came around to become sweetness again. She wanted it all.
Jem gave her a wistful little smile. Later, his eyes said. She nodded.
Will had had Jem his whole life, or at least, an important enough length of it. She didn't know exactly how long he'd had Jem, but she had a feeling it was something that had been a part of their life for years and years and years. Enough that it wasn't such a wet new thing, enough that Will thought nothing of kissing her (though, back then, he hadn't meant it), enough that they knew each other's mouths like they knew their own names. They'd had their time and it surely wasn't enough - could never be enough - but it had begun long before Tessa had ever arrived.
She wouldn't have Jem for long. She knew that, could see all the signs that this sickness of his was getting worse by weeks, now, and soon it would be days, and hours, and then he would die. The loss would echo in her heart for the rest of her life. She wanted to make the most of his time, and not all for proper selfish reasons - she wanted memories that she could guard jealously, of the most perfect person in the world.
And after that, she would have Will. She saw it now, saw that Jem had somehow planned it all, even if he didn't really think of it that way. He was their missing piece, and all their problems on these first shaky walking weeks of their relationship had been, truly, because of Jem. His shadow had fallen between them and they hadn't known what to do, what to say, how to function with each other without him.
He took Tessa's hand in one of his, and Will's. He placed them together on his bedspread. They curled and twined around each other because sometimes, when they were able to set aside their pride, they were graceful. They could do this. They could learn.
"Now," Jem murmured. "Kiss."
They leaned in together over Jem's bed without any hesitation.
It had become a kind of obsession. She knew there wasn't anything she could do - she resented it, of course, but Will was infernally stubborn and while Jem was thoroughly inclined to take her side, at the critical moments, he was much too far gone to be of any help.
Will didn't trust her. He trusted her about a great many things, far more than most people, and some of the things he trusted her to do - to know - fair took her breath away. But he still didn't trust her with Jem.
They'd discussed this. It was a rainy night at the Institute and the three of them had been pressed into the window seat in the library, legs tangled, so they could all talk. It was terribly scandalous but somehow, with Jem buried in her skirts between them and Will nestled into his back, it had been so comfortable.
It was a little disconcerting, but Tessa never truly felt at home unless both of her boys, as even Charlotte called them, were there.
"It isn't fair," Jem had said, in his quiet, measured voice. "If Tessa wants to be present, you shouldn't shut her out."
"She shouldn't want to be there," Will growled. They were both talking about her in the third person, but it was easy to tell that Will, unlike Jem, was trying to pretend she didn't exist.
Tessa opened her mouth to disagree - vehemently - but Jem beat her to it. "That's not for you to decide." It was very nearly the sternest she'd heard him, at least, aside from discussing matters of grave demon-fighting import.
Will turned his head to the window and pressed his lips into a thin line; they both knew what it meant. I concede your point but I can't agree, I'll never agree, and you can't do a thing about it because next time, you'll still be too delirious to say no.
The next time Jem overextended himself - and it was happening more and more often now, his need for the drug beginning to outstrip his ability to keep up with it - Will shoved her out of the room so hard it left bruises, and she had a plan (transform into a big, muscly sort of man - she'd grabbed something from a rough at a pub once for this specific purpose - break down the door, and be back to herself by the time she got to Jem's side) but suddenly it didn't seem to matter anymore. What hurt worse than anything was that Will, despite everything that Jem had told him, despite how close they'd all become - and she could feel them crawling under her skin sometimes, like they were a part of her - he still, still refused to let her in. He may have thought he was protecting one or both in the beginning, but all he was standing up for now was his damnable empty pride.
Before Will Herondale, she'd never understood how you could hate someone and love them in despairingly equal amounts.
Her cheek was still pressed to the door when Will pulled it open, and, not expecting it, she tumbled over onto the carpet. He didn't look surprised; weary, yes, and angry - but not surprised. "Didn't anyone tell you it's rude to eavesdrop?"
"It isn't eavesdropping if you're supposed to be involved."
They stared each other down for a long moment, then Will held out his hand, and Tessa took it, using his strength to lever herself to a standing position.
"He's still sleeping," Will muttered, and there was that creeping fondness in his voice, the one he only ever used when he thought no one was paying attention. Tessa bent to brush the dust off the front of her skirts, and Will did the same for the back. They moved with a reassuring grace, like it was something they did every day.
Only when Jem is around, Tessa thought, the implications stinging but no less true. He's only himself when he doesn't realize it, when the bit of his brain that tells him not to trust anyone is otherwise engaged. But Will wasn't the only one who cared for Jem - and he wasn't the only one distracted to truth in his presence.
"Tessa?"
Will's hands froze. He made a sound that suggested it was Tessa's fault that Jem was awake already; Tessa didn't even notice. She sailed through Will's hands like he was air, fell to her knees at Jem's bedside in a great poofing rustle of skirts. "How are you?"
He winced. He hated the question but knew it must be asked; or at least, he understood that it soothed a heart's distress. But didn't answer it, either. "Did Will lock you out again?"
Tessa took one of Jem's hands and cradled it in her own. It was sweaty and pale and she could feel the pulse thumping alarmingly in his wrist, but it was beautiful. There was no part of Jem that wasn't beautiful. "I was going to turn into a man with muscles and knock down the door," she confided with a slow smile.
A spark of delight danced in Jem's eyes. "Charlotte would be very angry if you broke her door."
"Jessamine would be very angry if you broke your dress," Will pointed out in a cold drawl. He had taken up against the doorframe now, all ice and no warmth, though whether it was jealousy or sheer frustration at their... what? Their affection? It was nothing he wasn't aware of, it was nothing more or less than the way they acted the rest of the time.
Jem's eyes softened. "Will, please, come here." He said 'please' but the way he said it made it sound like 'dear'.
He came around to the other side of Jem's bed, still scowling, but there was that tell-tale twist at the side of his lips and a kind of light in his eyes, and Tessa knew he wasn't actually angry. He couldn't be, not when Jem was smiling at him like that - not when he was so fragile, and so strong.
"This has to stop," he murmured in a sweetly tired voice. "The two of you will be the death of me long before my time."
His face was wry but Tessa still felt like she'd been kicked in the chest - and from the way Will squirmed, he'd felt it too. "Jem," Will muttered, "stop it."
"I'm serious. I'm not going to be around forever, and I need to know you won't kill each other when I'm gone."
Will looked positively wounded. His voice cracked slightly when he spoke. "You'll always be watching us."
Jem nodded and his eyes slid closed, but when he opened them again, it seemed like a bit of struggle. Tessa leaned forward, clasped his hand a little tighter.
He gave her a quick smile as if to say, thank you.
"I love the both of you to pieces. You've always asked me," and he was looking right at Will now, "if there was anything I truly wanted. Any selfish requests of the world. I'm making one now." His hand gripping Tessa's was vicelike, the bones of his thumb grinding against her own. "Don't. Shut. Each other. Out."
She looked across the bed at Will. He didn't only mean 'don't shut her out, Will,' because they both knew how cruel Tessa was capable of being, when she believed herself to be in the right. She could do this. For Jem, she could love him unconditionally; for Jem, she would do anything.
The look in his eyes told her he was thinking the same thing.
Jem tugged on Tessa's hand and she obediently looked away; her knees hurt but she leaned in closer anyway. He was looking right at her now, his colorless eyes blazing with a queer kind of light. Joy, she decided. Loving and lovely joy.
"I'm going to kiss you both," he whispered, and there was wickedness in his voice - but only the best kind. "And then you're going to kiss each other. Are we clear?"
She should have been shocked. She almost was, but it was like that afternoon on the window seat, it just felt like such a natural extension of what they were and what they meant to her, and besides - Jem asked. She didn't even think twice. She nodded.
He turned to Will first and beckoned with his free hand, one finger after the other, a white claw curving through the air. He looked - apprehensive, and Tessa wasn't sure why, but then she was never sure with Will, and he was leaning down all the same.
Their lips locked and Tessa started to understand, because she realized - they'd done this before.
No one kissed like that the first time. Oh, well, there was - in the attic, but - but that hadn't been like this. This kiss had all of that fire (which had been all Will, or vampire toxin, or something in between) but none of the clumsiness. Their lips fit together so perfectly, and Will took control of the kiss like he was born to and Jem acquiesced with the most beautiful little sigh - the sigh of relief, of well-worn puzzle pieces locking together easily. His hand cupped Will's cheek and stroked it delicately, and it was such a gentle counterpoint to the way their lips brawled.
Tessa felt her own lips part and her breath come up short in her chest. It was the most scandalously beautiful thing she'd ever seen.
There is so much bad in the world, she thought, as Jem tilted his head and Will pressed him a little further back against the headboard. Calling good things bad - that's for people who've never seen true evil. Love - true love, not just lust or obsession or misplaced reverence - that is always good.
They broke apart with a startled gasp, and Will's eyes were like twin oceans, stretched wide and miles deep. He bit his lip, like he wanted to keep the taste of Jem on his tongue forever - and Tessa didn't blame him. How could she? Every kiss from Jem must have felt like a blessing from God himself.
Jem turned to her, then. He worked his hand free and that confused her, for a moment - but then he shifted until he was sitting up properly, and took her face in both of his hands.
She was kneeling on the floor so he had to bend down just a little and his thumbs rested perfectly under her cheekbones. Just before their lips touched, he smiled the smile he only smiled for her. His smile for Will was indulgent, Charlotte gracious, and everyone else just the tiniest bit glassy and unreal. When he smiled for her, he smiled with his whole heart, with no shame, no boundaries, like she was this beautiful treasure that he'd found when he'd only been looking for skipping stones.
He made her feel like she was already perfect, but she couldn't be, because she wasn't nearly as perfect as him.
He kissed her gently, then sweetly, then something within her turned that rush into an ache, and her lips were parting and she was sliding her tongue along his in a rough, sensual line. He made a sound - something pleased and wanting in the back of his throat, and suddenly she had a hand wrapped around his neck, and she was kissing with all the fire and control that Will hadn't let her (or rather, she hadn't let herself) feel.
Jem moaned. Very softly, but she could feel it pooling within her like hot oil, and she knew what he was telling her wordlessly. I want you to kiss him like this. I want you to fight him. I want him to tear your clothes off because he can't get enough. You're not a china doll, but I am, and he wants this, and I can't give it to him.
She drew in a breath because she had to, because she was seeing stars. Jem moved back and she frowned, she didn't want to stop, she wanted to kiss him and kiss him and kiss him until that ache became a burn and that burn became light and that light came around to become sweetness again. She wanted it all.
Jem gave her a wistful little smile. Later, his eyes said. She nodded.
Will had had Jem his whole life, or at least, an important enough length of it. She didn't know exactly how long he'd had Jem, but she had a feeling it was something that had been a part of their life for years and years and years. Enough that it wasn't such a wet new thing, enough that Will thought nothing of kissing her (though, back then, he hadn't meant it), enough that they knew each other's mouths like they knew their own names. They'd had their time and it surely wasn't enough - could never be enough - but it had begun long before Tessa had ever arrived.
She wouldn't have Jem for long. She knew that, could see all the signs that this sickness of his was getting worse by weeks, now, and soon it would be days, and hours, and then he would die. The loss would echo in her heart for the rest of her life. She wanted to make the most of his time, and not all for proper selfish reasons - she wanted memories that she could guard jealously, of the most perfect person in the world.
And after that, she would have Will. She saw it now, saw that Jem had somehow planned it all, even if he didn't really think of it that way. He was their missing piece, and all their problems on these first shaky walking weeks of their relationship had been, truly, because of Jem. His shadow had fallen between them and they hadn't known what to do, what to say, how to function with each other without him.
He took Tessa's hand in one of his, and Will's. He placed them together on his bedspread. They curled and twined around each other because sometimes, when they were able to set aside their pride, they were graceful. They could do this. They could learn.
"Now," Jem murmured. "Kiss."
They leaned in together over Jem's bed without any hesitation.