Work Text:
Luke observes Jocelyn from a distance.
There are meaningful looks and lingering touches, but the most contact they get is when they are back to back, and he's meant to protect her. He's good at that; there's skin touching and rough hands and occasionally a foot on his back when she needs impulse to do a backflip. When it ends, he's exhilarated, elated, and bruised.
Jocelyn is everything he's always found beautiful. Sharp smile and sweet eyes. Her pale skin gleams like diamonds under the sun; her fiery red hair bright as it whips around when she twirls, ferocious, burning; her green eyes like the safety of the forest he sometimes hides in when he can't keep the wolf in anymore. In her hands, a seraph blade is deadly, destruction looking beautiful as her enemies turn into sparkling specs of dust and disappear.
He gets to be close to her. He gets to be a part of her life. He does not get his fill. They will never live together, never raise Clary together, never get married. It's dangerous, she says, and he cannot fault her, because he knows he's choosing the safe option, too.
Loving her feels like being back to his old self.
Being rejected by her feels like remembering it's never coming back.
*
Luke observes Alaric so close he can count each individual eyelash.
He traces the shape of his face with a finger, careful not to wake him up, just enjoying the warmth of him under his hands. He's good at that; there's skin touching and soft skin and eventually a nuzzle as Alaric enjoys his touch, reciprocates it, loves it. It makes him exhilarated, elated, and full.
Alaric is everything he's been taught not to find beautiful. Sweet smile and sharp eyes. His black skin is rich like the safety of a full moon night, when he gets to be himself under its protective, caring cloak; his Afro hair is soft and full like a cloud, lush under his careful touches like it's trying to comfort and love him back; his dark brown eyes like the fur on Luke's own wolf, self meeting self, with nothing to hide. When his hands turn into claws, it's not for destruction, but for protection, nothing but love for him and their pack guiding his free, desperate movements, their retraction indicating that Luke will get to be held and fussed over and kept close.
He gets to be close to him. He gets to be a part of his life. He cannot possibly get his fill; there's too much he wants. But they live together, they raise Maia together, and they are married. It's dangerous, they both know, but he's learned that it's also what safety feels like.
Loving him feels like loving himself.
He'll never have to find out what being rejected by him feels like.