#scarysimon

sh moodboards: Clary x Maia

- If i didn’t know any better, I’d say you like Clary now

“My room is nicer,” Jace said as he pushed Simon down onto the bed.

“Filled with Shadowhunters who will listen in and gossip,” Simon replied, falling back on the bed and spreading his legs invitingly.

“And this is better than the boathouse?” Jace muttered.  “Your mother and your sister a few doors down?”

“I like to live dangerously,” Simon said, running his hands down Jace’s back.  “Now stop talking, and kiss me.”

“So demanding,” Jace replied with a grin, but complied and kissed Simon sweetly.  His hands drifted lower, nails scratching and creating red raised marks along their path.  He grinned when Simon whimpered and arched into Jace’s touch.

“Fucker,” Simon gasped.  “Just -”

“Simon?  I heard -”

The door opened, the light turned on and only Jace’s face reflexes kept Simon’s mother from seeing the two of the completely naked.

“Mom!” Simon yelled.

“Sorry, I heard noises and got worried.”  Elaine Lewis put a hand over her eyes, but peeked through her fingers.  “You’re okay?”

“I was,” Simon muttered.

“Told you we should have gone to my place,” Jace whispered.

“He’s very cute,” Elaine said.  “Is this why you and Clary and then that lovely Maia didn’t work out?”

“Mother, can we not have this discussion now?” Simon said, clearly embarrassed.

“Sorry, sorry,” Elaine said.  “It’s nice to meet you -”

“Jace, his name is Jace,” Simon said.  “Now goodnight, Mom.”

“Goodnight Simon,” Elaine said as she turned off the light.  “Nice to meet you Jace.”

“Ma’am,” Jace said as Elaine closed the door.  He groaned and pressed his face to Simon’s chest.  “That just wrecked the mood.”

“Sorry,” Simon whispered.

“Tomorrow, we go to my place,” Jace said with a sigh, head still pillowed on Simon’s chest.

oooooohh

39. “We need to talk about what happened last night.” 

Jace is snoring peacefully into Simon’s pillow, hair everywhere and mouth wide open, when Simon prods him awake. Jace clears his throat, rolling to his back and looking up at Simon with bleary eyes. He’s dressed in some graphic shirt and blue boxers, clearly having just woken up himself. 

“We need to talk about what happened last night,” Simon says seriously. 

“Uh, okay,” Jace says, sitting up and attempting to appear more awake than he is. 

“It’s not that I don’t like it, but I’m not sure I’m ready,” Simon says, sitting on the bed next to Jace. Jace’s eyes widen and he really wishes he had been given more time to prepare.

Jace is about to try and respond, mouth working to form words, when Simon reaches over and plops a small purring ball of fluff in his lap. Jace recognizes it as the stray kitten he brought over last night on a whim, having found it in an alley on his way. 

“A pet is a serious responsibility, Jace. I live in a boathouse. I drink blood to live. I don’t think I can keep it,” Simon says solemnly, and Jace snorts out a laugh as the kitten begins to knead the blanket pooled in his lap. 

“What? Jace, come on, be serious,” Simon glares at him. 

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry. It’s just, I thought you were talking about the sex,” Jace manages to say, petting the kitten’s head. 

“Oh. No, I think we’re mostly on the same page there.”

nice! 

49. “I don’t want to screw this up.” 

Jace has been quiet for a long time. Not that he can get a word in edgewise, with Simon, but they’ve held hands and walked under the cold bare trees for the better part of an hour and Jace hasn’t said a word. 

“-and that’s how I found out I was allergic to clay. Jace?” Simon pulls them both to a stop, gloved hands clasped tight together. Jace makes a surprised noise, but looks over at Simon dazedly, and Simon knows he’s pulled him out of a serious thought. 

“Sorry,” Jace says, smiling nervously. 

“What’re you thinking?” Simon asks, reaching out and smoothing the crease between Jace’s eyebrows with his thumb. A few months ago he was so worried about touching Jace like this, but now Jace leans into it. 

“About you. Us,” Jace says.

“Good things?” Simon asks hopefully, smiling also. 

Jace clears his throat and pulls Simon to sit on a bench, the cold of the metal seeping through his jeans and bringing him clarity. 

“Not good things?” Simon looks at Jace worriedly, and Jace shakes his head, taking his hand away from Simon to pull off his gloves and run his fingers through his hair, looking at the white November sky. 

“I don’t want to screw this up,” Jace say finally. Simon just looks at him curiously, for once holding his tongue. “Alec, you know, he’s. He’s doing really well. With Magnus. With himself, who he is. But me. I’ve never known who I was. I always wanted what other people wanted me to want, this is really confusing. Us. I don’t want to mess it up.” 

“I don’t think you could mess it up if you tried,” Simon says with a grin. 

“I love you, Simon,” Jace’s breath ghosts out into the cold air, and Simon swears even the birds stand still. Simon beams.

“I love you, too, Jace.” 

man jimon are my second faves i love them

9. “You’re in love with her.”

Simon is dozing on the couch, head pillowed in Jace’s lap, the TV playing The Empire Strikes Back. Simon has seen it so much he could reenact it as a one man show, but this is Jace’s first time watching. Simon is vaguely aware of Jace sitting up as the tension between Han and Leia mounts, but he’s more worried about the nap he could be taking. 

He’s a Daylighter, but he still likes his sleep during the day. 

“You’re in love with her!” Jace shouts at the TV, jumping up and aiming an accusing finger at Han Solo as he storms off away from Leia, who looks equal parts angry and hurt. 

Simon flinches, reaching a hand out to catch himself so he doesn’t tumble off of the couch, and glares up at Jace. 

“He is. They’re in love,” Jace insists, leaning down to help Simon up. 

“Yeah, I’ve seen it before,” Simon reminds him, settling back down into Jace’s lap. 

“So they do get together,” Jace leans back, satisfied, attention back on the screen. 

ahhhh love the jimon requests i’m getting <3

3. “It’s three in the morning.”

Jace wakes up tangled in his sheets, slick with sweat and unable to breathe. The room is hot, stifling. He kicks the covers off and throws himself out of bed, falling on his stomach to the floor to press his face against the cool wood. After a moment, he rolls onto his back and breathes in deep, ineffective breaths. 

He keeps his eyes open and fixed on the ceiling, trying to drive the disturbing images from his dream out of his mind. If he doesn’t blink, he might not see them. It’s always the same, really. Valentine, the white-hot blade of the Soul Sword, bodies and blood. 

After a while, he manages to sit up and fumble on his dresser for his phone, blinking at the sudden brightness. 

Simon answers on the eighth ring. “Hey, man. You alright?” 

Jace stays quiet for a moment, but then clears his throat. “I guess so. Had a dream.” 

“Same dream?” Simon asks, and Jace can hear the worry. 

“Yeah.” 

“Alright. I’m coming over,” Simon says, and there’s shuffling in the background. 

“It’s three in the morning, Simon,” Jace argues, leaning back against his bed. 

“I’ll be right there. Sit tight,” Simon says, and hangs up. Jace takes the phone away from his face, and doesn’t smile, but feels his chest settle just a little bit.