I really really shouldn't have written this: I have four other stories to work on, two oneshots, a continuation of a oneshot, and 'Crazy'. XP

I'm starting to get gray hairs. And I'm just a teenager...

Rating M for: Smut/Mild language/Incest

Universe: Shadowhunters

A/N: Clary and Jace really are related, minus the demon blood. Don't hate. It's just FanFiction. ;)

Disclaimer: I'm not Cassandra Clare. Therefore, I do not own Chairman Meow. *swears*

Hope you enjoy. :)


Whenever she'd catch him looking at her, staring at her in a way no sibling would ever look at his sister, she'd give him her coldest glare, and hiss a warning from the side of her mouth. If they were alone in a room, then she'd outright yell at him. Scream that he had no right to stare at her like that. She was his little sister, who the hell did he think he was, staring at her like she was anyone else?

He would get that look when she'd say that, that stubborn look he wore so well that let her know he wasn't backing down. That he was going to fight her on the subject. Again.

"If you were my sister, I wouldn't feel this way," he swore. "You aren't my sister."

Then she'd shriek in frusteration, and throw the nearest object at his head. "I love you like a brother, and only as a brother," she would sneer in a cold voice. "You may as well start attempting to do the same."

And would take pleasure at the pain and hurt that he wasn't fast enough to hide, shine through his golden eyes. To hurt him like being his sister was hurting her.

She would storm out of the room, and lock herself in her bedroom, down the hall from his. Luke was letting him live with them, Jocelyn insisting she wanted to get to know her son better.

She would sit on her bed, and cry. Knowing she'd been staring at him the same way.

Innocent Gestures

While sitting at the dinner table, his fingers would brush against hers while doing simple tasks, like passing the salt and pepper, or the butter plate. Innocent enough. But the sparks that would shoot through her whenever he made contact with her skin, the flush on her skin, and the smug smirk hovering over his narrow mouth, letting her know her reaction had not gone unnoticed, was anything but innocent.

When they were on the couch for movie night, with Jocelyn and Luke snuggled up in one of the armchairs, and his arm would stretch over the back of the couch, draping over her shoulders, to anyone else they would look like any normal brother and sister just watching TV.

Except not anyone else knew that his fingers were sneaking up her tank top strap, rubbing his calloused fingers over her skin softly, causing her to shiver. When he saw this he would grin, and pull a blanket over their bodies, covering what else they were about to do.

With their bodies out of sight, he trailed his hand over her leg and bare knee, and she would bite her lip to keep from whimpering. His touch should not feel good. It should feel repulsive. She jumped when she felt his hand trail up her shirt, towards her bra. This was becoming less and less innocent by the second. He smirked knowingly at her, cupping one of her breasts and giving it a slight squeeze, causing her to squeal.

Luckily, they were watching Psycho, so Luke and Jocelyn thought nothing of it.

Humming under his breath, she felt his fingers creep under her bra cup, making a noise of appreciation when he felt the lace. She blushed. The other Shadowhunter girl had forced her into a shopping trip. Instead of dreading his touch, she now felt anticipation, literally felt it, as her panties began to dampen.

He flicked her nipple sharply, causing her to arch her head back, the tendons in her neck struggling to not scream out loud. He looked pleased by her reaction, and rewarded her with a light pinch, and she couldn't stop the low moan that followed.

He lifted his free hand, gently pulling her head down to his shoulder, making sure her face was pressed into his neck. "Don't be scared," he murmured. She hadn't realized he was talking about the movie, to keep up an appearance. So she shivered, realizing what he was about to do.

The free hand went back under the quilt, and towards her shorts.

His fingers skillfully slid under the band of her sleeping shorts, and didn't waste anytime brushing over her wet heat.

She couldn't contain the whimper, pressing her face deeper into his throat, trying to keep her jerking hips discreet from her oblivious mother and stepfather.

His slender fingers slid into her, and she bit into his neck to stifle the scream that followed, licking the salty taste of his skin. "Shh," he breathed. "It's just a movie, Clary."

The prick wasn't even affected.

With her hips rolling and literally humping into his hand, trying to apply as much friction to her clit possible, and his other hand working her nipples, she thought she was going to combust. He leaned his head down to where she was groaning into the crook of his neck, and whispered, "Let go, little sister. Come for your brother."

She hated him. He was doing that on purpose. He knew she wasn't in her right mind, not with him fingering her like that, playing her like a tuned violin. He knew she would do anything for an orgasm.

"Jace," she hissed his name as she came, milking his thrusting-fingers for all she was worth.

"Yes, Clary?" He asked, innocent and sweet. Like a caring older brother. Damn him.

She glared at him. "You sneaky bas-"

"Are you alright, sweetheart?" Her eyes widened as she turned to her mother, who was looking at her in concern. "You look a little...flushed."

She instinctively turned to him, as he slid his fingers out of her, giving a little curl as he did so, causing her to come a little. "Y-yeah. Just a little freaked out." What kind of freak lets their brother do that to them?

He arched an eyebrow at her, and bringing the hand that had currently been between legs up to his mouth, giving each of his fingers a lick.

Oh. My. Angel.

"I'm sorry, Clary." Luke patted her shoulder sympathetically. "I should've picked something else. At least Jace was there, at least. It's always nice to be able to sit next to someone who'll let you grab them when you're scared."

He snickered, and she elbowed him, relieved that he was slipping back into old-Jace again.

If they only knew.


Her avoiding him after their little 'incident' on the couch was beginning to irritate him, she knew. How she absolutely refused to look him in the eyes, or ask him a direct question. On movie night, she sat on the floor instead of the couch, still unable to look at the furniture without flushing.

Irritation past, and hurt took over.

It killed her, hurting him.

"I'm sorry," he whispered one night as she washed the dishes, and he dried, her refusing to look at him or allow her hands to accidently brush against his. "I shouldn't have done it. I wouldn't take it back, but I'm sorry."

She ignored him.

He left the kitchen, and slammed the door behind him.


"Clary..." His voice was pleading. "Don't do this again. Don't shut me out."

She felt herself begin to shake, wanting to turn and apologize for hurting him. And with the aching need to feel his skin touch hers, she felt herself surrendering.

"Please...I need to touch you, Clary. It's been too long..." She fell back, into his waiting arms.

His arms wrapped around her waist, holding her to him. "We have to stop this," he murmured into her hair. "We need to...do something about this."

She nodded. "It'll fade, eventually," she lied. "Don't worry. We'll figure out something."

She soon discovered what his method was.

Luke and Jocelyn left the next morning for Idris, saying they'd be back in three days.

His face lit up, and hers darkened. Alone with him. With no adult supervision. He did agree to act like her brother, though. Maybe he really would stop pursuing her...

She heard him, that night. Two hours after dinner, which he hadn't showed up to, saying he'd eat at Taki's.

Opening her bedroom door, curious to see why his footsteps sounded heavier than usual, she gasped, a lump in her throat gagging her.

He was stand in front of his bedroom, a slender blonde pressed against the door, her shirt off and her legs wrapped around his waist. She swallowed as she realized that the blonde was frantically rubbing herself against him, and that he was only supporting her with one hand. The other was thrusting into her, exactly like he'd been doing to her last week...

She had no right to feel betrayed. He was acting like her brother. Ignoring her and sleeping with other girls. So why was she crying? This was what she wanted.

He pulled away from where his mouth had been suckling her nipples, and gave a harsh gasp. "Clary."

At first she was afraid she'd just been caught, that he'd heard her.

No. He hadn't.

He was calling the girl Clary. He was replacing her with a random girl, envisioning her as his sister.

As sick as it was, she felt better. He still cared for her. He was still her Jace.

She was selfish, hurting and keeping him to herself like this, when he wasn't even meant to be hers in the first place.

But you did crazy things when you were in love, right?


She had a date.

He sneered at Jeremiah, looking down at his hand in disgust, refusing to shake it.

Was it wrong of her to have brought him over, just to delight over his reaction? Yes. Yes it was. But he was sleeping with a new girl every night, so why the hell should she care?

She held no interest for Jeremiah, but he was a good boyfriend. And he pissed him off.

But after two weeks of dating, she broke things off, telling him she wasn't in love with him. That he deserved better.

He didn't take it well. "It's because of your brother, isn't it?" She failed to compose her expression fast enough, and he laughed. "Jesus. Your brother? Really? That's disgusting. Kinky little whore-" He raised his hand to slap her.

And then he was there.

His fist connected with Jeremiah's jaw, and he beat the crap out of him, her watching expressionlessly.

"Don't talk to my sister that way, you prick," he spat out, straightening. He looked at her. "Are you alright?"

Her face still expressionless, she nodded.

He walked up to her, and smiled. "So...You're in love with me, huh?" He teased.

She broke down and started crying. "Yes, you jerk!" She snarled, ignoring the tears running down her cheeks. "I know I shouldn't but I can't stop. I'm sorry!"

He shook his head. "I'm not." Then he wrapped his arms around her waist, pulling her towards him.

Kissing her sweetly in front of the East River.


Clary and Jace Fray lived in their little apartment somewhere in Canada, known as Clary Fray and Jace Wayland.

Jocelyn and Luke had no idea of their whereabouts, assuming Clary had gone to college, and Jace was travelling, like he loved to do. And he did travel. With his girlfriend. Who was also his sister.

Clary curled herself into his side, watching the sunrise in nothing but her silk robe.

"You kept me up late again," she scolded him. He chuckled, rubbing his nose into her neck, purring against her skin. "How am I supposed to stay awake for the rest of the day if you keep-" She huffed. "Doing that."

Jace smiled into her soft skin. "Stay in bed," he murmured. "Never leave. I'll take care of your lazy ass..." And the mood was broken.

She giggled. "I don't think I'd be able to stand being around you that much."

He pouted, and she kissed him, nipping lightly on his lower lip. "Besides," she sighed, suddenly sad. "We have to visit Mom and Luke tomorrow."

Jace's face sombered.

Their story was that he'd stop by her house today, after a long trip to Africa, and they'd go down to New York, together. And they would have to act...unnatural. Or 'normal', in everyone else's eyes. Like siblings.

They would never be able to get married. And if they did, she would never be able to wear his ring on her finger. Never hold his child in her belly. Never be able to hold hands or kiss in front of people who knew they were kin.

But they had eachother. They could give up all of that, if it meant being able to be together. Everything else seemed small in comparison.

"But I still have you for the rest of the day," he said cheerfully, bending his knees and picking her up. "Before I have to share you. And until then," he tossed her onto their bed, smiling fondly at the sound of her laughter. "...You are not leaving this bed, Ms. Fray," he growled playfully, jumping into the bed and on top of her.

Sure, they'd haved to pretend to be siblings for a week. And yeah, he wouldn't be able to ravage her on the kitchen table, hold her or kiss her like he could at their small little home. Hell, he couldn't even look at her the way he normally did. But they could fool everyone. For a week.

Then she wouldn't be his sister. She'd be his Clary, again.

Loved it? Liked it? Hated it? Repulsed by it?