Archive of Our Own ^beta

Kit was wide awake, staring at the ceiling above him, eyes straining to trace patterns in the utter darkness of his room. 

It was one of those nights where his mind battled sleep until waking hours of the day—one of those nights where his memories flickered in his brain, forcing him to relive moments he had desperately tried to bury. The memory of the day he had first stormed into the Institute seemed to take prevalence, as it was the day his father died, the day he discovered his Shadowhunter heritage. Kit remembered how he had opened the Institute doors himself, unveiling the truth of his blood, and out of frustration, disbelief, and grief, he immediately escaped to the farthest room possible, away from the Blackthorns, away from the Shadowhunters his father had ingrained in him to loathe. 

Now, as he stood up from his bed and quietly turned the doorknob, he regretted his choice.

His feet seemed to travel on their own as he made his way down the winding hallways, having gone down this path numerous times before—it was nearly second nature to him now, living the Shadowhunter life, and he was scared by how quickly he had grown accustomed to it. It was truly not that long ago when he first moved in, and yet, it felt like a lifetime. His footsteps were deathly silent—Kit always knew he was light on his feet, and he credited it to years of thieving and staying hidden, a trademark from Johnny Rook. Now, Kit suspected it had more to do so with his Shadowhunter blood. He could imagine Johnny Rook looking down—or should he say up?—at him now, disappointment on his face and an incessant crease on his forehead. Kit wiped the thought away, not wanting to reflect on his dead father, not wanting to remember the glimpse of white ribs as he saw his dad’s body being torn in half.

He finally reached his destination, leaning against the wall to catch his breath—panic was close to seizing him again with the thoughts of his dad, and the familiar feeling of wanting to escape rose in him. He just wanted to forget, wanted the thoughts to stop.

He lifted his arm, fingers curling into a fist, and his hand hit the door, and right before he could even lift his hand to knock a second time, the door swung open.

There, standing at the doorway, was Ty.

His hair, usually clean and straight, was a tangle of black curls, hiding the icy gray of his eyes that currently rested on Kit’s shoulder. Kit could see the dark circles underneath Ty’s eyes, could see the thin frame underneath his oversized shirt, could glimpse the chaos of the room behind him. 

“You’re awake,” Kit said, and then felt dumb after saying it. Of course, Ty was awake. He was being plagued by his own demons at night like Kit was. They both needed to escape, needed to forget, needed everything to stop.

“I am,” Ty stated, removing his headphones and placing them around his neck. “And so are you.”

“I couldn’t sleep.”

“Neither could I.” Ty paused. Then, “I was actually about to go find you.”

Kit was speechless. Find me? Abruptly, he asked, “Do you want to go for a walk?” 

Before Kit could feel doubt rising in him, Ty immediately responded, “Yes. Wait—let me grab a jacket.”

He went back inside his room, the door shutting softly behind him, and Kit was suddenly aware of the thin cloth shirt he was wearing, the vast exposure of his arms, and the threatening windiness and cold of the night air waiting outside. Of course, Ty would think ahead and bring a jacket, he always planned ahead and never overlooked any small detail—while Kit just wanted to escape so badly, he left his room without a single idea of where he was going. He silently reprimanded himself.

The door opened, and Kit was met with Ty wearing a black thick jacket, so dark that it stood out, along with the black of his eyelashes that were currently fluttering against his cheekbones. Kit felt the all-too-familiar flip in his chest once again, and he pushed it away, focusing on the boy in front of him, who was currently holding out a lump of gray cloth, his face expectant.

“Here. It’s a little oversized, but it should work.”

To say it was a little oversized was an understatement. It went down to Kit’s thighs, but Kit realized it as the gray wool sweatshirt that Ty wore so often—he felt oddly touched by that—and the fact that it smelled so strongly of Ty, ink and sage and a hint of ocean air, made it all better. 

“Thanks,” he said, a little breathless. Ty smiled weakly at him.

“We need to be quiet,” Ty whispered. “Julian will be very mad if he finds out.”

Any mention of Ty’s older brother with the word mad was enough to trigger fear in Kit, and so, as they both made their way downstairs and towards the backdoor, Kit refused to allow himself to exhale until the smooth texture of the sand was beneath his feet. 

Kit immediately threw his shoes off, and looking back at Ty, he shouted, “Race you to the shore!”

Kit didn’t even check to see if Ty had heard—he began to sprint, relishing in the bitter cold of the wind hitting his face, the taste of salt clinging to his skin, the crunch of the sand between his toes. He could hear Ty catching up to him, and the shore was still a way’s off, but Kit was still ahead, running faster—

And suddenly, Ty appeared in front of him, running quicker than Kit would have ever thought was humanly possible. Ty reached the shore first, throwing his arms up in celebration, and Kit slowed down, stopping next to him. Ty turned, and Kit stood paralyzed at the grin on his face, the way his entire body seemed to transform, elevated and happy. He looked striking. He looked fascinating. He looked—

The smile vanished. Ty turned away, facing the ocean, eyes tracing the pattern of stars in the clear night sky. Kit released a quivering breath, then turned to join him.

They stood there silently, relishing in the tranquility of the moment. The moon glowed brightly amongst the stars, and the ocean breeze gently caressed their faces. Kit closed his eyes, feeling as if the sound of the waves crashing against the rocks could lull him to sleep, right at this moment.

“Kit, look.” Kit’s eyes snapped open, and he saw Ty a few spaces in front of him, pants rolled up, kneeling down to where the waves brushed against his knees. 

Kit quietly moved closer, lowering himself to Ty’s level, peering closely at the water.

“I don’t see anything,” he said.

“Bioluminescence,” Ty marveled. “They’re microscopic, so you wouldn’t see them.” He bent down and cupped the water into his hands, the wind blowing against his hair, his face full of wonder. 

Beautiful, Kit thought. He looks beautiful. 

Ty lifted his hands towards Kit, and at first, all Kit saw was plain water, until he began to glimpse flickers of blue, glowing brightly in the moonlight.

“That’s so cool,” he said, amazed, and looked up—to find Ty staring right at him.

Kit’s breath caught, a shiver running up his spine. The lightness of Ty’s gray eyes was a stark contrast compared to the darkness around them; to Kit, it felt like he was gazing at the moon, losing himself in the neverending sea of stars, drowning in its vastness. He was so close, able to see the black curls of Ty’s hair standing due to the humidity, to notice the part of his lips as he inhaled. Ty’s hair fell over his eyes, mesmerizing Kit, sending an irresistible urge in him to reach up and push those strands back. It hurt. It hurt to look at him, a tightness inside his chest, as if he was suffocating. 

Kit leaned closer, almost unselfconsciously, naturally, a magnet clicking in place. Ty closed his eyes, uncupping his hands back in the water, the tiny specks of blue lights disappearing in the waves.

Taking a deep breath, he spoke. “I saw you kiss Livvy.”

Kit was halted immediately in his tracks, his body seizing. He was speechless.

“By the rocks.” Ty opened his eyes, but his gaze was focused elsewhere. Kit had nearly forgotten—Livvy had asked him to kiss her, but they had both agreed to remain friends. Suddenly, he was hit with the realization that he had been Livvy’s first and last kiss. 

The realization must have shown on his face as Ty quickly said, “Don’t worry, we’ll get her back. I promise.”

Kit widened his eyes. “No! It’s not like that at all!”

Ty furrowed his eyebrows. “What do you mean?”

“I don’t like her like that! She asked me to kiss her, and we both agreed never to do it again.”

“So you don’t want to get her back?”

“I—” Kit was at a loss for words. He couldn’t lie to Ty, but he couldn’t tell him that he thought resurrecting Livvy was a really, really bad idea. He focused on the sand beneath them, on the movement of the waves receding into the ocean. “I just want you to be okay.”

Ty sucked in a breath. “I can’t be. Not without Livvy.”

Kit recoiled, squeezing his eyes shut. He wanted to hold Ty, the same way he did on the roof, but he couldn’t. The truth was clear, had always been whispering inside him, he just only recognized its existence: Ty will never be whole again, not until Livvy was brought back. 

They fell into silence, Ty's gaze drifting into the unknown depths of the ocean. Kit felt cold all over as if he was drowning again, the truth pressing down on him as he realized that Ty never cared—He never did, never will—

“What if I asked you to kiss me?” 

Kit’s eyes snapped open. “What?”

Ty repeated himself, his voice shaking slightly. “Would you kiss me if I asked?”

A fever dream, Kit thought. That’s what this is. “Ty…”

Ty turned, his gaze intense, eyes resting on the bridge of Kit’s nose. “Is it because I’m a boy?”

“What? No!”

Kit could see Ty visibly relax. “Then why?”

He didn’t know what to say. Because it feels wrong to kiss you after your sister just died?

Because of how I feel like I’m choking every time I look at you?

Because it scares me how badly I want to?

He could imagine it: pulling Ty closer, leaning up to meet his lips, letting Ty choose the pace. He would be careful, gentle, allowing Ty to decide if he wanted Kit to touch him. He would savor the moment, however brief it might be.

But he couldn’t. Not when Ty was hurting, not when Ty was so driven on something else.

Kit sighed. “I just can’t, Ty. I can’t do that to you.”

Ty moved away, and Kit could feel something shatter within him. He had screwed up, as he always did, as he always will continue to do. Kit could tell Ty didn’t completely understand his excuse, but there was nothing he could do—the damage was done.

“We should go back,” Ty said as if nothing had happened. “We only have a few more ingredients left for the spell. We need to wake up early if we want to do more research.”

“Yeah, you’re right,” Kit said. He tore his gaze away from Ty, facing back towards the Institute. He couldn’t look at Ty any longer, or else the burning inside him would intensify, and he would begin to regret what he said.

They made their way back inside the Institute, sneaking in quietly—and to Kit’s utter relief, no Julian was waiting for them by the stairs. By the time they made it back to Ty’s room, Kit began to remove the sweatshirt, but Ty held up a hand.

“Keep it. I have plenty,” he said. Kit gaped at him.

“Are you sure?”

Ty nodded. “Yes.” Suddenly, albeit everything, he smiled softly, and Kit couldn’t help it—he smiled back. “I’ll see you in the morning."

“Right. Goodnight,” Kit responded. Ty closed the door softly in front of him. At last, Kit let out the breath that had seemed to be trapped inside him the entire night.

He stood there for a few moments, willing his heart to calm down. At that point, Kit hardly remembered walking back to his room, the door creaking softly as he opened it. He had half the mind to remove his shoes before collapsing in his bed, the softness and scent of Ty’s sweatshirt clouding his senses and the vision of gray eyes lulling him to sleep.