first for everything but love

"no idea, I fast-forward past their bits when I watch it."

Dominic Sherwoods Q&A pannel at the 40th Edition of FACTS.

Truth or Dare

The training room was dimly lit, the sparse light casting long shadows along the polished stone walls. The air smelled faintly of steel and sweat, a testament to the countless hours Shadowhunters like Jace had spent perfecting their skills here. Tonight, however, it wasn’t just another late-night training session. Simon knew it the moment Jace sauntered in, golden hair mussed, a self-assured grin on his face. It was as if the air crackled with something unspoken, a tension Simon could almost taste.

Jace threw him a lopsided grin as he closed the door behind him, the click of the lock echoing in the empty room. “You sure you’re ready for this, Lewis?” Jace’s voice held a teasing edge, but Simon could feel his pulse quicken as he swallowed back a nervous laugh.

“As ready as I’ll ever be,” Simon replied, trying to sound casual, but his voice wavered just enough to betray him. Truthfully, he wasn’t sure he was ready at all—not for the workout, and definitely not for Jace’s sharp, assessing gaze.

They started with basic combat moves, Jace demonstrating and Simon following, his muscles straining as he attempted to match Jace’s flawless form. Jace corrected him now and then, adjusting Simon’s stance with a firm touch, fingers pressing against his back, his shoulder, his wrist. Each correction seemed to linger, Jace’s hands steadying him, guiding him, the warmth of his touch seeping through Simon’s shirt and into his skin.

“Try not to overthink it,” Jace murmured as he straightened Simon’s stance again, his breath brushing Simon’s ear. “It’s all about instinct.”

But that was the problem—Simon’s instincts were muddled, thrown off by the way Jace looked at him, by the quiet confidence in his every movement. How could he focus on combat when all he could think about was the brush of Jace’s hand against his, or the way Jace’s voice dropped when he offered a correction?

Somewhere between their movements, they fell into a rhythm, their banter replacing the silence. Simon teased Jace about his serious “warrior face,” and Jace retaliated with a sarcastic comment about Simon’s “vampire grace.” It was friendly, familiar, but there was an undertone—something tense and simmering just beneath the surface. When they finally took a break, sitting cross-legged on the floor, both of them were breathing heavily, sweat glistening on their skin.

“Alright, Lewis,” Jace said, stretching his arms overhead. “Since you’ve survived my training, I think you’re ready for a real challenge.” His eyes sparkled mischievously.

Simon chuckled nervously. “I just survived an hour of you shouting at me to ‘tighten my core.’ What could possibly be more challenging than that?”

Jace smirked, leaning back with a casual confidence that made Simon’s heart stutter. “Truth or dare.”

Simon’s eyes widened. Of all the things he’d expected, this wasn’t one of them. “What are we, twelve?” he scoffed, hoping his voice didn’t sound as high-pitched as it felt. His cheeks burned, and he quickly looked away, suddenly aware of how close they were sitting.

“Scared?” Jace taunted, his smirk widening.

Simon swallowed, the weight of Jace’s gaze prickling his skin. “Fine. Truth.”

Jace’s smile turned predatory, his gaze sharpening. “Why are you so flustered around me?”

Simon’s stomach dropped. He hadn’t expected Jace to go straight for the heart of it, to zero in on the thing Simon had spent countless nights trying to ignore. For a split second, he considered brushing it off with a joke, something sarcastic to deflect the attention. But the look in Jace’s eyes told him it wouldn’t work—Jace wouldn’t let this go. He was too curious, too stubborn.

“I’m not,” Simon said, but his voice wavered. The lie felt hollow, and he knew Jace could see right through him.

“Sure you aren’t,” Jace said, his voice soft but insistent, and he leaned in just a fraction, his eyes never leaving Simon’s. “But you’re blushing.”

Simon’s face burned even hotter. He let out a shaky laugh, but it sounded forced, brittle. “Maybe it’s because you’re, you know... intense. Like, look at you. You’re all... this,” he said, gesturing vaguely to Jace, who raised an eyebrow, clearly amused.

“This?” Jace repeated, a hint of a laugh in his voice.

Simon tried to breathe, tried to steady himself. The truth hovered on the edge of his tongue, tempting him, terrifying him. But he couldn’t hold it back anymore. Not with Jace looking at him like that, with those piercing eyes that seemed to see right through him.

“Fine,” he whispered, more to himself than to Jace. “Maybe I have... a little crush. On you.” The words felt dangerous, tumbling out into the quiet of the room, fragile and raw.

A silence fell between them, thick and weighty. Simon could feel his heartbeat hammering in his chest, echoing in his ears. He didn’t dare look up, didn’t dare meet Jace’s eyes.

When Jace finally spoke, his voice was low, almost hesitant. “Simon...”

But Simon shook his head, forcing a laugh that came out shaky. “Forget I said anything. Really, it’s no big deal. Just a stupid—”

Before he could finish, Jace reached out, his fingers brushing against Simon’s cheek, his touch warm and steady. Simon froze, his breath catching as Jace’s hand cupped his face, his thumb brushing lightly over Simon’s cheekbone.

“Simon,” Jace murmured, his voice barely more than a whisper. “I don’t want you to forget it.”

Simon looked up, his eyes meeting Jace’s. The intensity in Jace’s gaze sent a shiver through him, his heart pounding wildly. “What... what are you saying?”

Jace hesitated, his thumb still stroking Simon’s cheek in gentle, steady movements. “I’m saying... maybe I don’t mind that you have a crush on me,” he said softly. “Maybe... I kind of like it.”

Simon’s eyes widened, his mind racing to process Jace’s words. He felt as if he were on the edge of something vast and unknown, teetering between excitement and fear. “Are you serious?”

Jace’s mouth quirked into a small, almost vulnerable smile. “Why do you sound so surprised?”

“Because... you’re you,” Simon managed, his voice barely a whisper. “You’re Jace Lightwood. You’re confident and fearless, and I’m just...”

“You’re just Simon,” Jace said, his voice warm and steady. “And that’s exactly why I like you.”

Simon’s heart stuttered, his breath catching as he searched Jace’s eyes, looking for any hint of mockery, any sign that this was just another one of Jace’s teasing games. But there was nothing in Jace’s gaze but sincerity, a quiet intensity that made Simon’s pulse quicken.

Jace leaned in slowly, his gaze flickering to Simon’s lips before returning to his eyes, giving Simon the chance to pull away. But Simon didn’t move; he couldn’t, even if he wanted to. He was caught, drawn in by the magnetic pull of Jace’s presence.

When their lips finally met, it was soft, tentative, as if they were both testing the waters. Jace’s hand tightened against Simon’s cheek, pulling him closer, deepening the kiss. Simon’s senses went into overdrive—the warmth of Jace’s mouth against his, the faint taste of salt on his lips, the roughness of Jace’s fingertips as they brushed against his skin.

Simon’s hands found their way to Jace’s shoulders, gripping them tightly as if afraid to let go. The kiss grew bolder, more certain, and Simon felt himself melting into it, all his worries and doubts dissolving in the warmth of Jace’s embrace.

When they finally pulled apart, both of them were breathless, their foreheads pressed together, their breaths mingling in the quiet of the room. Simon opened his eyes, finding Jace’s gaze locked on his, intense and unwavering.

“So... truth or dare,” Simon murmured, a faint smile tugging at his lips.

Jace chuckled, the sound low and warm, and Simon felt it echo through him. “Truth.”

Simon bit his lip, feeling a surge of courage. “How long have you... you know, liked me?”

Jace’s smile softened, a hint of vulnerability in his gaze. “Longer than you think,” he admitted. “But I didn’t want to push you. I wasn’t sure if you’d ever feel the same.”

Simon let out a quiet laugh, the weight in his chest lifting, replaced by a warmth that spread through him. “You could’ve just asked,” he teased, nudging Jace’s shoulder.

“Where’s the fun in that?” Jace replied, grinning.

They sat there in comfortable silence, letting the weight of what had just happened settle around them. For once, Simon felt at ease, no longer burdened by the secret he’d kept hidden for so long. He looked over at Jace, his heart swelling with a feeling he’d never fully understood until now.

Finally, Jace spoke, his voice soft and teasing. “So, what now, Lewis?”

Simon chuckled, reaching over to take Jace’s hand in his, lacing their fingers together. “I guess we’ll have to figure that out together.”

Jace smiled, giving Simon’s hand a gentle squeeze. “Yeah. Together.”

The Institute was alive with holiday spirit, a rare warmth threading through the typically stoic halls. Wreaths hung on walls that had seen centuries of shadowhunter history, and fairy lights twinkled around the grand dining room, their glow reflecting in polished surfaces. The scent of roasted turkey, cinnamon, and something sweet drifted through the air, mingling with the soft hum of Christmas music.

Simon walked in, carrying Chase on his hip. The five-year-old was bundled in a bright green sweater, his dark curls bouncing with each step. Chase’s eyes were wide as he took in the decorations, a look of awe and excitement lighting up his face.

“Wow, Papa! It’s so big here!” Chase whispered, his voice reverent.

Simon chuckled, his heart swelling at the little voice calling him "Papa." A year ago, he could never have imagined this moment, but now it felt like the most natural thing in the world.

Jace walked beside them, carrying a bag of gifts slung over his shoulder like a modern-day Santa. “Wait until you see the tree, buddy,” he said, glancing up at Chase with a grin.

Chase turned to him with a bright smile. “Dad, is it as big as the one at home?”

“It’s even bigger,” Jace assured him.

As they entered the main room, Chase gasped, pointing toward the towering Christmas tree that stretched almost to the ceiling. It was covered in silver and gold ornaments, shimmering runes carved into the baubles, and a star on top that seemed to glow with a soft, magical light.

“That’s the coolest tree ever!” Chase declared, wriggling in Simon’s arms until he was set down.

He ran toward the tree but stopped halfway when he saw Izzy standing nearby. She was dressed in a sparkling silver dress that matched the festive atmosphere perfectly. “Aunti Izzy!” Chase yelled, throwing his arms open.

Izzy caught him mid-hug, laughing as she twirled him around. “There’s my little monster! Are you ready for your first Christmas, Chase?”

“Uh-huh! Is Uncle Alec here too?” Chase asked eagerly.

“Right here,” Alec’s voice called from the doorway. He entered the room with Magnus at his side, both dressed impeccably—Alec in a crisp black shirt, Magnus in a tuxedo shimmered under the lights.

Chase bolted toward them, throwing himself at Alec, who crouched down to scoop him up. “Uncle Alec! Uncle Magnus!”

Magnus placed a hand on his chest dramatically. “What? No hug for your favorite warlock uncle?”

Chase giggled, reaching out to Magnus, who took him from Alec and spun him around. “You’re both my favorite!” he said, his laughter echoing in the room.

Maryse and Robert Lightwood entered next, their expressions softening when they spotted Chase.

“Abuelita! Bubba!” Chase squealed, squirming with excitement until Magnus set him down, and he bolted toward his grandparents.

As he rushed past Raphael, the older man beamed with pride. “Feliz Navidad, mi niño,” he said, giving a thumbs-up. He couldn't help but feel a swell of satisfaction—he had taught Chase to call Maryse Abuelita, and hearing it now felt like a small victory.

Robert lifted Chase effortlessly and settled him on his shoulders. “Look at this little warrior,” he said with a grin. “Ready to battle the Christmas monsters?”

Chase giggled, eyes sparkling. “Yeah! But I need a sherpa blade like Dad’s!”

“You might be in luck,” Robert replied, winking as he gently set Chase back down, and they headed toward the dining table.

The dinner was a feast. Plates were piled high with turkey, mashed potatoes, roasted vegetables, and warm rolls. Chase sat between Jace and Simon, his small plate filled with everything he could point at. He especially loved the sweet potato casserole Magnus had brought, proclaiming it “magic food.”

Jace leaned over, wiping a bit of cranberry sauce off Chase’s cheek. “You like everything?”

Chase nodded enthusiastically, his mouth too full to answer properly.

Simon chuckled, passing Chase a napkin. “Chew first, then talk, buddy.”

The adults laughed as Chase hurriedly swallowed and exclaimed, “It’s all so yummy!”

Izzy leaned forward from across the table, her chin resting on her hands. “So, Chase, what do you think Santa’s going to bring you tonight?”

Chase paused, looking thoughtful. “Maybe… toys. But I already have so many toys. Maybe Santa will bring me a dragon!”

Simon smirked, nudging Jace. “Looks like we’re going to have to up our game next year.”

After dinner, everyone moved to the sitting area where the gifts were waiting under the tree. Chase’s eyes sparkled as he saw the colorful wrapping paper and ribbons.

“We’ll start with Chase,” Maryse said, pulling him close.

“Really? Me first?” Chase asked, his face lighting up.

“Of course! It’s your first Christmas, after all,” Alec said with a smile.

Simon and Jace handed him their gift first, a neatly wrapped box with a bow. Chase tore into it with all the excitement of a five-year-old, revealing a smaller version of the Gray Book.

“Wow!” Chase whispered, running his fingers over the embossed cover. He opened it to see the simplified drawings of runes inside, along with descriptions written in language a child could understand.

Jace smiled. “Now you can learn all about the ‘magic tattoos,’ just like you wanted.”

Chase hugged the book tightly. “Thank you, Dad! Thank you, Papa!”

Next, Alec and Magnus handed him their gift. Chase eagerly unwrapped it to find a paint-by-number set, complete with brushes and paints.

“Now you can make your own masterpieces,” Magnus said, winking.

“Can I paint a dragon?” Chase asked.

“You can paint anything you want,” Alec assured him.

Izzy’s gift was next, a small radio and a set of classical music CDs. Chase’s eyes widened as he flipped through them, his tiny fingers lingering on one with a picture of a grand piano.

“Music is magic too,” Izzy told him. “These will help you learn to hear it.”

She handed him a second gift, a box filled with Disney storybooks. “And these are for bedtime.”

“Thank you, Aunti Izzy!” Chase said, giving her another hug.

Finally, Robert and Maryse presented their gift. Chase’s squeal of delight echoed through the room as he pulled out a toy sherpa blade and a NERF bow and arrow.

“Now you’re ready to be a real Shadowhunter,” Robert said, laughing.

Chase immediately started pretending to fight invisible demons, his little feet running around the room as everyone watched, smiling.

As the evening wound down, the warm hum of conversation and occasional bursts of laughter filled the grand room at the Institute. Chase, full from dinner and glowing with the excitement of his first Christmas, was making rounds among the adults, proudly showing off his new Gray Book to anyone who’d listen.

“Look, Raphie!” Chase exclaimed, trotting up to Raphael Santiago with the book clutched in his hands. “It has all the magic tattoos!”

Raphael, dressed impeccably as always, crouched down to Chase’s level with a faint smile. Despite his usual air of detachment, there was a softness in his gaze reserved for the little boy. “Magic tattoos, huh? Let me see.”

Chase opened the book, his tiny finger pointing at the runes. “This one’s for strength,” he said confidently, though the word was still a bit tricky for him to pronounce.

Raphael nodded solemnly. “You’ve got it, niño. Maybe one day you’ll have Runes of your own.”

Chase’s eyes lit up at the idea. “Really?”

Victor Aldertree, who had been standing nearby, stepped in with a chuckle. “Not too soon, though. Let’s wait until you’re a little older, huh?”

Chase looked up at Victor, grinning. “Okay, Vicky!”

The adults around them stifled their laughter at the nickname, though Victor seemed more amused than annoyed. “Vicky, huh? You’re lucky you’re cute, kid,” Victor teased, ruffling Chase’s curls.

“Raphie and Vicky,” Chase said thoughtfully, looking between the two men. “You should be a team!”

Raphael and Victor exchanged a look, something unspoken passing between them. Raphael smirked, his dark eyes glinting. “You’re smarter than you look, kid.”

Chase beamed, clearly pleased with himself, before dashing off to show the book to Izzy, who was waiting for him with another hug.

As the evening stretched on, the adults gathered near the hearth while Chase played with his new sherpa blade and NERF bow and arrow, pretending to fight off imaginary demons. He ducked behind chairs, launched foam arrows at invisible foes, and swung the blade with unrestrained enthusiasm.

Jace and Simon sat on the couch, watching their son with fond amusement. Simon leaned into Jace, his head resting against his shoulder. “He’s gonna wear himself out,” Simon said with a laugh.

“That’s the plan,” Jace replied, smirking.

Meanwhile, Magnus was teaching Chase how to make dramatic battle poses. Alec watched from the side, his arms crossed but his expression indulgent. “You’re going to turn him into a miniature you,” Alec said dryly.

“Obviously,” Magnus replied, flashing a grin.

Chase’s giggles filled the room as Magnus dipped into a low bow, his dramatic flair infectious. “Your turn, little warrior,” Magnus said.

Chase mimicked the pose, sticking out his chest and holding the sherpa blade aloft. “Like this?”

“Perfect,” Magnus declared, giving him an approving nod.

As the evening drew closer to its end, Raphael and Victor stood near the center of the room, their expressions unusually serious. Raphael cleared his throat, drawing everyone’s attention.

“If I could interrupt this Christmas spectacle for just a moment,” Raphael began, his usual dry humor in place.

Chase paused mid-swing of his toy blade, looking up curiously. “What’s wrong, Raphie?”

“Nothing’s wrong, kid,” Raphael assured him with a small smile. He glanced at Victor, who stepped forward, his hands clasped behind his back.

Victor took a deep breath, his usual composure giving way to a hint of nervousness. “We just wanted to share some news,” he began, his eyes darting to Raphael.

Raphael picked up where he left off. “Victor and I… we’re together,” he said simply, his tone confident despite the flicker of uncertainty in his eyes.

For a moment, there was silence as the announcement sank in. Then, Izzy let out a delighted gasp, clapping her hands together. “Finally!” she exclaimed, breaking the tension.

Magnus raised a glass in their direction. “About time, you two.”

Alec nodded, his smile subtle but genuine. “Congratulations.”

Maryse and Robert exchanged a look before Maryse stepped forward, her expression warm. “We’re happy for you both,” she said, her voice kind.

Simon grinned, nudging Jace. “Told you this would happen eventually.”

“I didn’t doubt it,” Jace replied, smirking.

Chase tilted his head, looking between Raphael and Victor. “So… you’re a team now?”

Raphael chuckled, crouching down to ruffle Chase’s hair. “Yeah, kid. We’re a team.”

“Like Papa and Dad?” Chase asked, his brow furrowing in concentration.

“Exactly,” Victor said, smiling.

Chase nodded solemnly, clearly satisfied with the answer. “Okay. But if you’re a team, you need matching outfits!”

The room erupted in laughter at Chase’s declaration, the lighthearted moment easing any lingering awkwardness.

When it was finally time to leave, Chase was curled up in Simon's arms, his eyelids heavy with sleep but his little hands clutching his Gray Book tightly. Jace walked beside them, carrying the bag of gifts and smiling softly at the sight of his son.

As they said their goodbyes, Chase stirred, blinking sleepily. “I don’t wanna go,” he murmured, his voice small.

“You’ll see everyone again soon, buddy,” Simon promised, brushing a hand over Chase’s curls.

“Promise?” Chase asked, looking up at Simon

“Promise,” Simon said, his voice firm.

Chase sighed, snuggling closer to Simon. “Okay. But I want to come back tomorrow.”

Everyone chuckled, their hearts warmed by the little boy’s earnestness.

“I think this might have been the best Christmas ever,” Simon said softly, looking down at Chase, whose eyelids were growing heavy.

Jace pressed a kiss to Simon’s temple, his arm tightening around both of them. “It’s definitely mine.”

Chase mumbled something sleepily, clutching his book closer. “Love you, Dad. Love you, Papa.”

Simon’s eyes grew misty, and Jace’s throat tightened, but they both managed to whisper back, “We love you too, Chase.”

Chapter 10 : From Ashes to Us

At a lively Institute party, Alec Lightwood meets Magnus Bane, a mysterious psychic Clary invited. Though Magnus initially keeps his distance, Alec later finds him in the library. Drawn to Magnus's guarded demeanor, Alec invites him to stay, and they share a quiet, intimate moment, gradually easing into each other's presence. As Alec gently strokes his hair, Magnus relaxes and even falls asleep against Alec's shoulder. Alec settles in beside him, content to let the night pass in tranquil companionship, leaving the party behind.