Malec/Jalec/Malace Smut

Pull The Pin

"And if pulling me closer is like pulling the pin to a grenade, please cover your ears while I go off with a bang" - 3am-poet

They held onto each other in the pale moonlight, shadows dancing across the walls and the bed, casting grim images over their features. There wasn't much they could do, the silence heavy between them. The self-destructive energy rolling off of the younger male in Alec's arms created a tension that neither of them had experienced before. 

They fought a lot but never as bad as the fight they'd had an hour earlier. 

Jace shouldn't have thrown himself in front of the demon. Alec should have been alert. Jace could have died...

Jace could have died. 

The words repeated in Alec's head, a mantra of failures that wouldn't let Alec's eyes close. His heart ached and his chest felt tight. The blonde in his arms was clinging to him like he'd never had a person treat him with so much care. Alec was used to being the one who felt pitiful and weak compared to Jace. At that moment, though, Alec got a glimpse of how fragile Jace really was. How shattered and scarred the Shadowhunter was, even though he walked with a smile hiding the pain of the shards of self-hatred digging deeper into his core. 

Alec couldn't block out the things Jace had said about himself. About the way he'd spat the word poison, describing the way he tainted every person he touched. How he felt there was no way he could be redeemed, his sins far greater than that of any other. The pure, unfiltered lack of love for himself.

Alec felt a fierce need to protect Jace; to hold him close and never let go, no matter how dangerous the action could be. 

Like laying on a grenade after pulling the pin, not sure if it's going to explode or if it's a dummy. 

Alec shifted in the sheets, using one hand to tilt Jace's chin, hazel eyes meeting shining blue. Jace's eyes were slightly wet, Alec's stomach twisting into a knot at the sight. That was his fault. He couldn't reassure Jace that he wanted him so badly. He couldn't convince Jace that he was happy to witness every tear and every violent explosion of loathing. 

There were no words exchanged between them but there was the sense of understanding. Jace blinked, Alec tracking the trail of a tear slipping down the blonde's cheek. His thumb caught it before it could make it past the slight natural curve of Jace's lips, like a permanent hint of a smile. He felt the heat of Jace's cheeks, unable to see the flush in his pale skin, the light of the room only illuminating the sharpest and most breathtaking of Jace's features. 

The older Shadowhunter leaned forward, pressing his lips lightly against the slightly parted lips of his partner. He felt the gasp rather than hearing it, the way Jace's chest pressed more firmly against his own and the way his lips parted a little more at the intake of breath. Alec gave him a second, knowing that he had to be gentle. He had to be careful. 

Picking out the shrapnel left by the detonation of pain and fear.  

Violence had shaped the man Alec held in his arms but the softness of his lips and the warmth of his skin made it impossible to believe. The gentle way he kissed and the caring way he held onto the people he loved made it impossible to tell that this broken angel had been raised by the devil himself. 

Golden hair curled over Jace's forehead, glowing in the odd light of midnight. Hands far too gentle after years of being used to cause suffering crept up Alec's chest, cool fingertips tracing the runes on his skin with an accuracy that amazed Alec. Jace knew his body better than Alec. He took so much care to learn every inch of muscle, every ridge of a scar, every dip created by the spaces between his ribs. Everything.

He'd learnt to love the most undesirable parts of Alec, physical and other. He had learnt to calm nerves with a brush of his hand. He had learnt to cure headaches with feather light kisses to hair. He'd learnt to take away pain with the slightest of gestures.

Pain.

Pain wasn't a thing that could break Jace. He wasn't one to crumble under the pressure of demanding eyes and sharp voices, not like Alec. No. Jace was a ticking time bomb  of  uncertainty and fear. Every minute took the both of them closer to the final act, the final battle, the final breath. 

Jace knew his own nature was one of too much care and too much compassion but he refused to acknowledge it. Instead he scolded himself for his stupidity and his ability to get himself into a situation likely to bring about his demise. His youth had been filled with insecurity, fear, heart ache and abandonment. It was no wonder he felt he was a danger to himself and others. There was a deep, unyielding need for it to end, to be distracted.

So, Alec did just that.

Alec used his lips and his tongue to smooth out the insecurities, pressing praise into warm skin.

Alec used his hands to wipe away the fear of abandonment, offering support to trembling limbs.

Alec used his voice to sooth an aching heart, careful words whispered close to a mouth open and gasping in the reassurance. 

Alec used his body to distract from pain, replacing each stinging wound with the push and pull of pleasure. 

Jace fell apart beneath him with the grace of a flower unfurling and the beauty of an expanding star. 

There was no violence in the way he whimpered. There was no explosion behind the blue eyes squeezed shut against the slowly rising sun. There was no pain in the littler tremors that ran through a body trained to be anything but vulnerable and open.

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A/N::: Hey guys, sorry this one is so short. I'm having real emotions right now because of the quote I used. (If you're interested in who created the quote and inspired this piece then please check out 3am-poet's tumblr. She's an amazing writer.