Warning: Adult Content


Tears From The Moon

Chapter 11. Not So Strong Without Those Open Arms

I was feeling sad,

Can't help looking back

Highways flew by...

Run, run, run away

No sense of time

I'd like you to stay,

Want to keep you inside

Run, run, run away

Lost, lost, lost my mind

(I'd) like you to stay

Want you to be my prize

Run, run, run away

Lost, lost, lost my mind

(I'd) like you to stay

Want you to be my prize

I was feeling sad

Can't help looking back

Highways flew by...

Run, run, run away

No sense of time

(I'd) like you to stay

Want keep you inside

All along, not so strong without these open arms

Hold on tight

All along, not that strong without these open arms

Lie beside

All along, not so strong without these open arms

Ride beside

Run, run, run away

Lost, lost, lost my mind

Like you to stay

Want you to be my prize

~Runaway, Yeah Yeah Yeahs

The pulse of the Underground beat through the city like a disease, infecting everything, and funding a revolution that would rise above the ash only to burn it all to the ground. Often he felt his heart swell with the pride that came with knowing that the world would change in the palm of his hand, the blood of his blood, and with every sacrifice he would be draw closer to the end. Yet, with the hands of this stranger at his neck, his body broken and bent over he had never felt closer to death. The longing enough to see right through him, to ghosts of the past passing from one body to the next, but the invasion of this man's prick reminded him how real he was.

"You like that?" The man's voice rasped as he pounded into him, again and again his body invaded by one last stranger's desire, and his own stupid need to eat. Food was scarce now that their outposts were lost in the last battle, and every day more and more forces came down on their ranks until the rebellion was forced underground. Down in the bowels of hell, the waterways of waste became a greater castle than they could ever imagine, a fortress carved beneath the city where all of the refugees could be free at last, but life in the dark was proving harder than even he could stand.

Magnus took to his role like a king, endlessly commanding of his people out of respect and desire to see their kind flourish again. No one should ever be condemned to death for simple things like love and religion. Rumor had it, Bane had once been one of them, his bloodline as pure as the Lightwood's, but after his parents caught him in the arms of another man he was tossed to the streets. However, it was hard to tell accept the truth, especially when there was so much falsehood in the damnation of the less pure.

There is nothing wrong with me.

William gritted his teeth as he felt the man slam into him again, his motions more stiff than before, his breath ragged in the nature of his end, and with one final forceful plunge forward he felt the man fill him. Will fisted the sheets as the weight of the overstuffed fool became too much and cried out in protest.

"God you're good," The man panted, his voice like nails down a chalkboard, and with a final slap to William's backside he pulled from him. As the stranger started to gather himself, William did his best to keep his anger in check, but as the fool went on to try and make small talk it took every ounce of his control not to kill him where he stood.

"Got nuffin' to say, boy?" The stuffed pig's shadow fell over him, and he felt it like a cold front as it stole the warmth from the horizon, "Well at least you didn't call me Jem this time." The bit of cash landed on William's naked body, but it was the man's laughter that was the true insult.

Will stared bullets through the man's shadow on the wall, as if he would rise up and burn him down at any moment. The hatred he felt for the pig-faced Seatholder in the House of Lords made him sick with the desire for the infection to spread faster, and in that little bit of hope Will turned to his back to lift up on his elbows and glare at the man.

"How's the wife and children?" Like poison, Will's voice parted from his lips, but the fool hardly seemed phased by it.

"Well enough," He answered as he laced up his shoe, "Stupid Bitch is waiting for me to die any day. Told her the men in my family live longer than the women," When the fat fool bent forward Will could see the small red marks on the base of his spine; A tale-tell sign of the disease that caused his lips to curl into a devious smirk.

Dressed now the man came to say his good-byes, and stood over Will like he owned him. His chubby hand came to touch the boy's throat, tip his head back in one last wanting kiss, but the moment Will made motion to refuse the man tightened his hand around William's throat,

"Next time. Fight me more, you little shit. I like it when you protest," And with that he was gone, slipping out of the room like a slug over salt, and William could not be free from this room fast enough.


St. Laurence Estate, London

Voices, trailed through the halls—the vast empty vaulted ceilings acting as frozen caverns as they returned the echo of his little footfalls; his heart against his ribs, Jem had managed a bath. The warm water bringing life back to the pale nature of his skin, and the pink color made his face seem flush with a lover's flame. The staff always found it incredibly endearing, but tonight they all looked at him with great concern.

A month ago the clothes that the Professor had tailored for him had fit, but now they hung off of him like a phantom wraith. His hair still damp smelled like honey and vanilla, the soaps his favorite, and relaxed him in ways nothing else could. Never had he ever lived in such luxury, where there was a hand simply waiting to tend to every need, and a man that was as kind as any shepherd to lead the lost lamb back home.

Jem felt so guilty for not going with him, he knew that the Professor was looking forward to introducing him to the close circle of his friends, and as he now padded down the hall he thought of turning around to race and get dressed. However, upon reaching the top of the grand staircase the world started to spin again, but the fever had long since passed.

The Professor stood at the bottom of the grand staircase, struggling to do a very mundane task, and Jem had to remind himself Jean-Luc sent all the help home. Jean-Luc was dressed like some sixteenth century French King with an over detailed waistcoat cut perfectly for his long, slender figure. The buttons were made of a fine yellow gold while the rest of his coat was trimmed with rich bronze thread-work that gave him the heir of any stately lord, and though it was only a costume Jem wondered if perhaps Jean-Luc had owned it in a past life. He seemed to belong to the era when there were celebrations like this, and the French had kings.

Jem pressed from his perch on the stairs, and his bare feet moved over the beautiful hand painted carpet until he stood over the white marble next to the other man. around. His steps as silent as ever, but he hadn't startled the beautiful man before him. Jean-Luc had this uncanny way of knowing that he was close, knowing of his needs long before he ever spoke them, even when he kept them to himself.

"Will you be gone all night?" Jem asked watching the Professor struggle with his ascot in the finely decorated mirror vanity of the great room.

"I…No, I will be back around midnight," The Professor's words were as cold as the winter night, and Jem could swear he felt the man ice over. His whole body went still, and even his skin felt as though it was made of stone. It made the touch endearing, the way Jem's gentle fingers came across his wrists to still his useless efforts. A thousand times Jean-Luc tied his scarves, but tonight the tie simply wouldn't do. Tonight, he knew the event was different, everything had changed—he knew that fever, and it broke him to think of Jem infected.

"I will not wait for you then," Jem's soft voice slipped over his warm lips, and his silver eyes smiled up at the other man, who visibly relaxed for a half a heartbeat.

"You still look tired," Jean-Luc's voice sounded lost, absolutely without reason to believe that the sun had ever existed, and as broken as his pureblood breeding would allow. He had been brought up by the hands of Lords and Ladies, fed from the fingers of Kings, but most of all hardened just like everyone by the forsaken war. Fragile things were so rare, easy to ruin, easier to destroy, and Jem was just that.

"I am," Came the reply, as quiet as ever, but he refused to allow his smile to fade. Just like half the nation, Jem learned to adapt long ago, and he too wore a mask. Though, he figured he could not hide his condition forever, he hoped that it would allow him to stay here just a little longer—long enough to get the cure for Will. "It's just a cold," He lied, finding himself sick at how easy it was to do, "I'll be good as new by morning, and I—" Jem went on to apologize for now being able to go, but his chin was caught by the tips of the Professor's fingers and his face tilted up. His breath, stolen a moment, came in quick little rushes as he felt his face flush with warmth at being so intimately touched.

Jean-Luc wanted nothing more than to force the truth from him, to feel force the youth to admit it was more, but for now he let it go. He worried that if Jem found out that he knew, he would run, and in that little lapse of judgement he did his best to keep the truth at bay.

"Your fever has broke," The Professor's voice boomed, a half command as his eyes darted to the lights in the driveway; his driver's figure through the window, and with that he released Jem's chin to step into the coat that now waited for him. "I expect you to get some rest, James, and to eat something." His voice was dry again, without emotion and calloused like this Jem was almost afraid to ever defy him.

"I..I will. I'll eat, and I'll go right back to bed. I just wanted to say good-bye, and to have a—" He couldn't finish the rest, as the Professor was gone. Without so much as a second glance he left out into the night. Swept away by the winter wind that had once frozen his blood, and it left Jem feeling as empty as the great hall to which he stood. All that remained was the vacant sound of the professor's cane on the walk way, and his retreating steps.

"To have a good time," He finished to himself, and watched from the windows as the car drove away. Jem hadn't realized his eyes had filled with water until they started to strain and he blinked away the tears, but when he turned to go back up the stairs he had trouble seeing the carpet for the way they blurred with emotions. Half way up the stairs he let a little sniffle go, instantly regretting his actions. Was it too much? Should he have never touched him? He should have gone. He should have—

"What a prude…" Came a voice in the hall, and Jem at first shrugged it off as being one of the servants but then remembered they had all gone home. Yet, somewhere in the back of his mind a memory had his heart start racing. The figure in the dark looked as haunted as the paintings with their eerie eyes that followed, and vacant expressions. However, when he stepped from the light Jem's heart leapt from his chest.

"William!" He didn't care if there were still hard feelings between them he closed the distance and leapt into the other boy's arms, and refused to let go.

All along, not so strong without these open arms

Hold on tight


A/N:

So I know I promised two Lemons this chapter, but the length got away from me. It's sooooo long. (no pun intended) The next one is in the chapter after. It's pretty precious. Also please excuse any mistakes. I'm tired and hungry and ready to just get this up.

I love you all so much, and sure do miss you. I have Center of the Sun Part 2 about ready to start. I'm calling it A Ruin of Stars. (thanks Ky) Keeping with the theme of objects in the sky! 3 I have my writing mojo back finally, and am taking steps towards publishing!

Also in my profile there is a picture of Jean-Luc that I had painted. I'm SOOOO in love. If you search on Deviant Art: Jean-Luc St. Laurence you shall see him there too, and the amazing artist. She's done a few for me already for other writing projects and this one.

I'd love some feedback, just to see if you are still reading. PLEASE review. I'll LOVE You forever, AND find me on twitter: StarryOwlEyes, let me know you came from here and I'll follow back.