3 times simon flirts with jace in serious situations + 1 time jace gives it a try
“Sorry. I know it’s kind of messy.” Jace murmurs as he pushes the door to his room open and leads Simon inside. He normally doesn’t invite people inside his personal quarters, but if he has to see Simon covered in blood for another second he’s going to lose it.
Simon looks around with an arched brow. “Messy? Dude there’s like, two shirts on the ground and some empty water bottles. You should see my room, the floor is covered entirely by like eight feet of clothes.”
“I have seen your room.” Jace reminds him. “When you–”
It’s stupid that he can’t finish the sentence, but he can’t. The word “died” burns his throat and it just feels wrong to say for some reason, like when he was younger and he cursed to act tough around Alec even though guilt burned in his stomach.
Simon seems to pick up on his hesitance and, thankfully, doesn’t continue the conversation. Instead he points at the door to their left in question, and Jace nods.
“I’ll try not to use up your expensive shampoo and conditioner.” Simon promises as he heads into the bathroom.
Jace can’t muster up the strength to quip back. He lays back on his bed and stares up at the ceiling while the sound of the shower drowns out some of the noise from downstairs. He should probably be down there, but Magnus told him to take some time away from all the bodies and he’d quickly accepted that instruction. He feels like a sham, running away from the people he killed while the people most affected clean up his mess.
Jace just wants it to be over. He wants to be years away, or lives away. He wants to be reborn as a mundane whose problems don’t go beyond things like family drama and relationships. Boys his age are supposed to be in college, drinking and partying and flirting. Not killing people accidentally because their evil dad tricked them into touching a magical death sword.
The running water stops abruptly after ten minutes and Simon emerges again, now clean and free of blood. He has a towel wrapped around his waist and Jace realizes that he never gave the guy any clothes, so he rustles through his closet while Simon stands frozen near the door, probably wondering how he’s ended up naked in Jace’s room.
“Here.” Jace throws him grey sweatpants and a green shirt, which Simon appears puzzled over.
“Have you ever worn this?” He asks. “Have you ever worn any color at all?”
“I was saving that shirt for the event that you might need to wear my clothes. Black isn’t your color.” Jace responds and he’s supposed to be sulking, goddamn it, but he can’t help it. Teasing Simon is like blinking or breathing. An involuntary function.
Simon briefly enters the bathroom again to change and then pauses in front of the mirror that hangs over Jace’s dresser, staring at his own reflection solemnly.
Jace is about to make a joke about vampires and mirrors but Simon beats him with a quiet question.
“Is it ugly?”
Jace shakes his head immediately. “It’s badass. Really wicked. I’ll teach you how to use it to pick up girls.”
“Not really on my radar at the moment.” Simon dismisses. Jace watches him trace his finger over the long silver scar that stretches from one side of his neck to the other, which will probably be almost entirely invisible once he has enough time to recover and replenish his blood. According to Magnus.
“Did it hurt?” Jace asks, which is a stupid question. The smirk on Simon’s face is proof that it was a stupid question.
“When I fell from heaven?” Simon finishes, and Jace has to swallow the laugh that’s trying to surface. He knows it’s fucked up, because there’s so much death and misery downstairs. But upstairs it’s just him and Simon, who has the most amused grin on his face.
So everything’s okay upstairs.
Alec is genuinely about to murder someone, and Jace doesn’t blame him.
“I swear, we’ll find who’s doing this.” He declares with the blaze of righteous justice in his hazel eyes. Magnus is looking up at him from where he’s seated with a mix of admiration and sympathy. He reaches up and tugs weakly at Alec’s shirt to get his attention.
“Whoever’s doing this hired a warlock. And the warlock is probably long gone.” Magnus explains. “You won’t be able to find which Shadowhunter is doing this out of everyone in the Institute. It’s the needle in the haystack, darling.”
“But it’s terrible.” Alec insists. “Putting a ward up that makes Downworlders sick when we’re on lockdown? You guys can’t even leave to feel better! I’m going to find them–”
“Alec.” Luke says, putting up a placating hand. “It’ll wear off in a few hours. Until then we’ll just wait it out, alright? No need to kill anyone.”
Knowing his brother, Jace is surprised that Alec manages to actually calm himself down. Maybe it’s the effect of seeing Magnus and Luke, two seemingly invincible people, weak and sick from the effects of the ward that’s currently enclosing the Institute.
“Okay.” Alec finally agrees, crouching down beside his boyfriend, who leans into him immediately. It’s unsettling seeing Magnus look so pale and exhausted, and the smudged make-up on his cheek is so out of place that Jace feels the urge to wipe it off for him. “I’ll take you to bed.”
As soon as Magnus nods, Alec scoops him up entirely and starts off in the direction of the elevator, his boyfriend carried bridal style against his chest. Clary helps Luke to her room and then it’s just Jace and Isabelle, who share a look with each other.
“I’ll be valiant and get Simon.” Jace offers. “Because I don’t want to owe you.”
“You bet your ass you don’t want to owe me.”
He finds Simon looking miserable and exhausted in the library. He’s sitting in one of the overstuffed, comfortable-looking but not actually comfortable armchairs. He looks the same way Magnus and Luke looked: tired and sick.
“Time for bed.” Jace announces, swiftly grabbing Simon by his shirt sleeve and hauling him into an upright position. Simon looks up at Jace as if he’s seeing someone from a parallel universe, his eyes wide and astonished.
“Some asshole put a ward up. You’re feeling sick because of that, so are Magnus and Luke. There’s no point in suffering through it, might as well sleep it off.”
“But I don’t have a room here.”
Jace rolls his eyes. Does Simon think Jace came all the way down here just to tell him he has to sleep on the floor? “You’re lucky I live here, then.”
He drags Simon through the halls and into the elevator, where Simon slumps heavily into the wall and doesn’t even bother to make a snappy comment, which is further proof of how awful he feels. Jace guides him into his bedroom and peels back his blankets, watching Simon make himself comfortable.
“You’ve gotta stop inviting me up to your room.” Simon mumbles sleepily as Jace pulls his armchair up beside the bed and takes a seat, reaching for the book he’s halfway through. “What book is that?”
“The Song of Achilles.” Jace responds, showing Simon the cover. “I’ve read it before. I re-read the beginning, sometimes I skip the end. It’s too sad.”
“Then why do you keep reading it?” Simon asks, looking up at Jace with sleepy eyes. He looks kind of adorable, and Jace is glad that he took care of this rather than letting Isabelle do it.
“Because I guess…I guess I always think maybe it’ll be different this time. Like maybe he’ll save Patroclus. Just because he didn’t do it the first time doesn’t mean he can’t figure it out eventually.”
Simon sits up, supporting himself with his elbow. “Books don’t change.”
“Real life does.”
Simon stares at Jace for a few moments. He seems to be thinking it over, trying to figure out what Jace means. Jace doesn’t even know what he means, but it’s the only way he knows how to express the conundrum. The story of Achilles and Patroclus never stuck with Jace before, but recently he’s been thinking about it a lot.
He snaps out of his musings when he notices the light flush over Simon’s nose and cheeks. Jace leans forward to press a hand lightly to Simon’s forehead and he frowns.
Simon’s smile is instantaneous and Jace immediately realizes his mistake, but it’s too late.
“You’re not too bad yourself.”
“Oh my God. Go to sleep.”
“Alright.” Isabelle runs her hands together and looks absolutely deadly. The shine in her eyes is like the reflection of light from a blade, beautiful but clearly lethal. Her wip is in her hands and her fingers carefully stroke it, delicate with the leather. “I’m taking Clary. Boys, you go everywhere below 14th street and we’ll meet up later.”
“I don’t understand why you get to choose pairs now that you and Clary are dating.” Alec complains, and it’s a little obvious to everyone that he’s more than a little jealous of Clary taking up his brother-sister bonding time.
“When Simon and Jace start dating, I’m sure they’ll do the same thing.” Clary offers in consolation. Jace looks over at Simon, who winks. Alec looks up at the sky, probably praying Magnus will make a sudden guest appearance.
They walk in the direction of their first target, Alec walking a few paces ahead while he chats on the phone with Magnus. It’s as if he’s taking a relaxed stroll through Central Park, not heading toward a demon infestation.
“So uh, what’s the plan?” Simon pipes up. “I know you guys don’t always do plans, but while we have this convenient extra time I figure it wouldn’t hurt. Not that I’m worried or anything, but you guys can still die so I’m just looking out for you–”
“Shush.” Alec says, but there’s no menace in his tone. He’s grown to like Simon, whether he’ll admit it or not. “Jace, make a plan.”
“Just wait for the right moment.” Jace says with a shrug. “And then attack. You’ll know it when you see it.”
“Right, right, cool.” Simon nods. “But what if I don’t?”
Simon does not. It’s fascinating, actually, how oblivious he is to dangerous situations. Jace supposes he can’t blame Simon, because Simon hasn’t been learning this his whole life like Jace has. He’s been playing D&D, sure, but it doesn’t count.
So when there’s a demon advancing rapidly toward Jace and Simon, who has a great vantage point from the top of the fire escape he’d scrambled up to avoid getting bitten, fails to realize what he has to do, Jace is forced to yell out instruction.
“Simon!” He hollers to get attention. “Go down on it!”
Without hesitation, Simon jumps over the railing and lands squarely on the demon that’s now only held away from Jace by a few inches on his blade. There’s a few seconds of struggle before the gnashing teeth near Jace’s face disintegrate into black ash, and Simon looks up from where he’s crouched in the middle of it.
There’s ash in his hair, ichor on his clothes, and a bright smile on his face.
“Want me to go down on you next?”
Jace has to physically force himself to look away and jump into the next attack. Goddamn it.
“Okay. Don’t panic. It’s fine.”
“I don’t think it’s fine. This is right out of The Walking Dead or some shit, Jace, oh my g–, do you think they can pry the door open?”
Jace hits the lock button on the driver’s side door, but nothing happens. Figures the car they chose to hide in during a demon horde passing was a lemon. It was just their luck.
“They can’t pry the doors open.” Jace announces. “They don’t know we’re in here. They can’t see us, so we’re not here.”
“Great. Great. This is just…”
“Great?” Jace finishes. He feels bad for Simon because he knows about his anxiety, about his panic attacks, about how both of those things are more likely to become a problem the longer the demons are outside the car. He looks around for something to distract Simon but comes up empty.
“Hey, I read a book I think you’d like.” Simon says abruptly. He sounds strange, like he’s reciting lines in a play. He’s forcing himself to calm down, Jace realizes. So he plays along and says his line.
“Oh yeah? What is it?”
“The Five People You Meet In Heaven.” Simon responds. “It’s sad, too, but it’s kinda about what you were saying the other day. About getting second chances and having different endings and stuff. It’s–it’s really good. You could have my copy.”
A thought forms in Jace’s head and his lips move before he can stop himself.
“You don’t have a copy from the library?”
Simon looks over, confused. “What? No. I wouldn’t lend it to you if it was from the library.”
“Well–well you should come to the library. With me. So that we–so that I could check you out.”
There’s a brief silence during which Jace considers opening the car door and letting the demons have him for dinner, but Simon’s sudden bursting laugh halts any and all thoughts.
“Dude.” Simon heaves between laughs, wiping at his eyes. “Oh, Jace, that was so bad. Oh man, oh Jace. Oh no.”
“It wasn’t that bad!”
“It was!” Simon wipes at his eyes again.
“Stop that! Your eyes aren’t even watering.”
“They are!” Simon snatches Jace’s hand and pulls it over to his face, forcing Jace to realize that okay, fine, his eyes are watering just a little. But they shouldn’t be, because it wasn’t that funny, and Jace slowly begins to realize that his hand is still resting on the side of Simon’s face and it’s not moving, and Simon isn’t making it move, and they’re staring at each other and leaning in and then,
“Oh.” Jace gasps after kissing for what had to be five minutes. “Wow.”
“Good thing you’re better at kissing than flirting.” Simon laughs, and Jace’s lips burn to be back where they just were.
“Hey. You’ve been flirting with me for weeks, but the very first time I flirt with you…” Jace presses a short kiss to Simon’s lips again. “This happens.”
“I just did it to shut you up.”