#sad simon lewis
Track 10 - I’m here trying not bite your neck, but it’s beautiful and I’m going to get so drunk on you and kill your friends
Rating:E 18+ (scenes of a sexual nature ~ canon typical violence - blood drinking - bodily harm)
Pairings:Simon Lewis x Jace (insert chosen last name here) / minor Magnus Bane x Alec Lightwood / minor Simon Lewis x others
Chapter summary: Things are tense when Alec turns up in London, looking for an update and Simon spends the whole time expecting to get punched. When Alec insists on tagging along on a hunt it predictably ends up in a screaming match on top of an abandoned building. Then everything goes from bad to worse and Simon is confronted by the monster lurking within.
Simon hated giving presentations.
Ever since school they had left him a fumbling mess, stumbling over his words and dropping his notes as a sea of bored and judging eyes stared back at him. Sure he was fine to get up on a stage and sing his heart out but that was different. Simon loved music and he loved to perform, addicted to the crowd’s reactions. It was a rush, an experience like no other and every time he got up on a stage all the nerves and anxiety just melted away, leaving him feeling invincible for those few precious moments. This was nothing like that.
Five sets of steely eyes stared back at him, no other sound in the room apart from Simon’s own voice as he talked through the progress he had made with the clans over the last couple of weeks and the things they were still having issues with. Dorian was sat closest to him, a small smile on his lips that just seemed to be the mans natural resting state. Opposite him on the other side of the table sat Dayton, looking as tired as always yet his eyes sharp and focused as he listened to Simon. They both had clave representatives next to them, a women and a man who looked like they would rather be anywhere else then here listening to a vampire explain why three of the five London clans wanted nothing to do with their alliance. They didn’t seem to like the fact that the vampires thought of them as ruthless and heartless killing machines that only thought of themselves like that wasn’t exactly what they had been just a few years ago. Simon could get over all that though, standing up straight at the end of the table and speaking calmly and clearly as he relayed the facts and keeping his opinions of the clave to himself.
Over the past three weeks he had gotten a lot better at this sort of thing, having had to deal with one to many angry out bursts from vampires at least four times his age. Dorian had been right, they all squabbled like a bunch of kids, acting like they knew more just because of their age. There had been a lot of repetition, Simon having to spend way to long insisting that the clave had changed. He had dealt remarkable well with it though, in his own opinion, his confidence growing with every passing day. He had settled into his role here quickly and he knew that he was more than capable of getting through this meeting without messing up. No, Simon’s only real problem was sat at the head of the table, watching him with the same intensity and focus he would look at his next target when on a hunt.
This wasn’t the first time Simon had seen Alec since coming to London but the two times before had been brief, just enough time to give a quick report before the shadowhunter was needed else where. There hadn’t been time for small talk or to catch up with what had been going on in New York and Simon was more than grateful for that. It would have just been awkward anyway, their rather tentative friendship not really lending itself to that kind of friendly chit chat. He got enough of that sort of thing from Izzy and Maia anyway, the two of them seeming to make it their own personal mission to make sure he didn’t miss anything whilst he was away, even if it was something as stupid as Izzy getting a new nail polish or Maia getting a new kind of beer in at the bar.
Awkward small talk with Alec wasn’t what was worrying Simon right now though. When Alec had gotten here, before the meeting had even started he had cornered Simon, face it’s usual stoic mask and had told him in no uncertain terms that they needed to talk. Those four simple words had filled Simon with a dread so strong that he had seriously thought about bolting. It had taken a rather intense pep talk to calm himself down enough to get his act together and start acting like he had some sort of handle on his chaotic emotions.
Alec knew what had happened with Jace. He had to. The way he had looked so pointedly at him, a grim set to his features and Simon had just known that it had nothing to do with his current assignment and everything to do with the fact Simon had punched his parabatai in his stupidly handsome face.
Maia never mentioned the shadowhunters when they spoke, not really having had anything to do with them over the last couple of weeks, though she did like to tease him about the fact that some of his previous partners had come in looking for him, all of them very disappointed to find out he was over seas. Izzy on the other hand brought Jace up a lot. It was all done casually, the blonde just mentioned in passing but it happened enough for Simon to know she was doing it on purpose. That was his own fault though because normally he would be the one hounding her for information on Jace, desperate to know what was going on with him. How was she to know that he had done a full one eighty and wanted nothing to do with the man now.
Simon had gotten pretty good at directing the conversation away from Jace, forcing the sting of hurt down that accompanied every mention of the man. He could have asked her to stop but that would then involve explaining what had happened and though Simon wasn’t Jace’s biggest fan right now he didn’t want to effect his relationship with his sister and nor did he want to deal with her pity either. Simon didn’t want those sad looks and soft words designed to comfort him. No what he wanted was to move on with his life and put the last few months behind him but apparently that was too much to ask for because here was Alec about to try and prise open the slowly healing wounds because he had apparently decided three weeks was long enough for Simon to get comfortable and think he would be able to avoid what had happened the last night he had been in New York.
Simon finished off his report, nodding and offering a tight smile when Alec thanked him, quickly sinking down into his chair and forever grateful that everyone’s attention turned towards the other man. He tried to listen to what Alec had to say, he did but with every second that ticked by Simon’s anxiety grew and he had to stop breathing to make sure he didn’t start hyperventilating.
Simon was well aware that he was over reacting. He wasn’t at fault here. He had been well within his right to hit Jace after the stunt he had pulled. Despite his feelings for the other man Simon had only wanted to be friends with Jace and he had tried to be a good friend to him when he had needed one most and all he had gotten in return was judgment, hostility and worse self esteem issues than he already had. And yet he was terrified of what Alec was going to say, of his unjustified anger and cold judgment that was undoubtedly waiting for Simon once they were alone. This was about Jace after all, Alec fiercely protective of his family and those he loved and Simon was most definitely at the bottom of the list when it came to who Alec cared about.
Simon jolted as he was kicked in the shin, his head snapping up from where he had been staring at the desk to find Dorian frowning at him. His eyes dropped down slightly before darting back up and raising an eyebrow in silent question. It was then that Simon realised he was rubbing at that stupid spot on his neck again, not having even noticed that he had abandoned his pen and raised his hand up to dig his fingers into the same spot Jace had sunk his teeth into all those weeks ago.
About a week into his time here Simon had caved and asked Dorian to stop him if he saw him prodding and poking at the long faded bite mark. After a quick and slightly vague explanation that didn’t really give away what exactly had caused the nervous habit Dorian had agreed to help out. He had taken his promise very seriously even going as far to lean across Elizabeth’s desk at one point and slap his hand away from his neck. She had been stunned at first, ready to kick Dorian out and never let him back but before Simon could defend Dorian’s actions the man in question had just shrugged and done it himself. After that she to had started to discourage him as well but she was a lot more gentle than Dorian, normally only having to say his name and look at him with disapproval and instantly he was dropping his hand and mumbling a quick thanks. Harper on the other hand liked to shock him, sending a bolt of electricity through his fingers and pointing at him, a firm “no,” passing her blue lips as Simon cursed and glared at her.
Simon lowered his hand, picking his pen back up and giving Dorian a small smile, the shadowhunter nodding his head slightly before turning his attention back to the meeting. Simon did the same only to find Alec frowning at them, his dark eyes moving between him and Dorian even as he continued to address the table as a whole. Simon quickly darted his gaze away, focusing on the note pad in front of him. He could still feel his eyes on him though and every time he lifted his gaze Alec was looking at him, brows furrowed like he was trying to puzzle something out. Simon didn’t know what but whatever it was he wished he would just figure it out and stop already because he was making Simon feel more nervous than he already was, his skin itching under the other mans persistent gaze.
Thankfully the meeting came to an end shortly after that, all the shadowhunters huddling up the other end of the table and talking amongst themselves, leaving Simon to silently pack away all his papers whilst trying to work out how to get passed them and out the door without Alec catching him. He felt like a kid trying to sneak out past his dad, knowing that if he was caught he would end up with a lecture and being grounded. It was a feeling Simon wasn’t used to, not even having been this nervous with his mum when he snuck out to go hang out with Clary, taking the steps one at a time to avoid them creaking and waking her up.
“Simon.” He tensed at his name, his hands stilling as he went to pick up his last folder. Damn it, he had been so caught up in his own head he hadn’t even heard anyone approaching him, ever hopeful that he would have more time to prepare. Sighing he let his shoulders slump, resigned to his fate. Simon put the file away, deliberately not speaking until after he had slung his bag over his shoulder and turned to face Alec. “Hey man,” he smiled awkwardly up at the other man, Alec his usual stony self and glaring down at Simon like he would rather be anywhere else. For once Simon could get behind that thought, desperate to escape this before his day could got any worse. “You did well. Your report was very thorough.” Simon stared silently up at him for a few awkwardly long seconds, surprised by the other mans words. That had not been what he was expecting, not in the slightest but considering Alec had been nothing but happy with his work so far maybe he should have been expecting something like that. At least to start with anyway.
Simon laughed nervously, eyes darting of to the side as he ducked his head slightly to rub at the back of his neck. “Thanks.” This was all so weird, Simon waiting for the other shoe to drop because Alec had said they need to talk and surely this hadn’t been what he meant. “You seem to have settled in well here. Dayton only had good things to say about you and I’ve yet to receive any complaints from the vampire clans,” Alec said stiffly, his gaze fixed firmly at some point over Simon’s shoulder. Simon hummed in reply, nodding his head slights as he readjusted the strap of this bag. He should probably feel offended that Alec had been expecting Simon to mess up at some point but honestly he was kind of amazed he hadn’t either but his performance here was the least of his worries right now and the longer they went on the more nervous he could feel himself getting.
It was awkward. To awkward with Simon wanting to be anywhere else and Alec seemingly intending to drag this out for as long as he could. Was it his idea of punishment, letting Simon squirm and overthink it like he always did? If he was going to threaten him or hit him or whatever the hell he was planning on doing Simon desperately wanted him to get it over and done with so he could go spend the rest of the night trying to forget how pathetic his life was right now.
“You wanted to talk to me about something?” he snapped, his nerves finally getting the better of him. Simon wanted this over and done with already and he was ever hopeful that Alec would actually say something that wasn’t pointless small talk. Shock flickered through Alec’s dark eyes at Simon’s outburst but it was gone quick enough, his features smoothing back out into his usual passive boredness. “Yes, I did.” Simon looked at him expectantly, his grip on his bag handle tightening with every second Alec remained silent until he could feel his nails starting to dig into his palms. Alec’s brows were drawn down, looking like he was trying to figure out what to say, his gaze firmly fixed beyond Simon and looking as awkward as Simon felt. At least he wasn’t the only one struggling with their current situation though as this was all Alec’s doing Simon really didn’t think he had the right to be so uncomfortable with the whole thing.
“Izzy misses you,” he finally blurted out, eyes darting down to actually look at Simon and sounding almost confused by his own words. “Right,” Simon drawled, frowning at the shadowhunter before him. That really didn’t seem to be what he had been meaning to say. “I miss her to.” He did miss her and her gentle teasing and talking about boys and following her around as she went shoe shopping and just generally hanging out with her because even before coming to London they didn’t do it as much as he would have liked what with her being busy running the institute and him spending a large chunk of his time with Jace or at band practice. When he got home he would make sure he made more of an effort. Maybe take her to one of those fancy restaurants out in Manhattan and treat her like the goddess she was, the angles know she deserves it.
Across from him Alec pulled in a deep breath, stand into up straighter and seeming to steal himself for what was to come. “Jace misses you as well.”
It was like how he imagined getting staked would feel like, those few simple words driving into his heart and forcing open all those wounds that had slowly been knitting back together. “Don’t,” he growled out lowly, his gaze hardening as he glared up at Alec. His whole body tensed, Simon’s grip on his bag tightening and his nails definitely slicing open his palm this time. Simon could smell the fresh blood bubbling up to the surface, could feel his palms getting slick with it but he didn’t care. How could he say something like that?
Alec’s frown deepened, his head cocking to the side slightly and looking at Simon like he couldn’t understand why Simon was so angry. He should walk away, should tell Alec where to shove it but he’s rooted to the spot, that burning hot anger that he had thought had passed bursting to life again in his chest and swirling together with his pain. “Simon I,” Alec starts but Simon cuts him off, unwilling to let him continue and break his heart into even smaller prices. “Don’t lie to me,” he bit out, only just managing to keep himself from outright yelling at Alec.
He’s trying to keep a hold on his anger, knowing full well that they aren’t alone in the room and if he lashes out at Alec now all the hard work that had been put into building the alliance would all be for nothing, the clave members only seeing a vampire attacking a shadowhunter for seemingly no reason. Simon doesn’t want that, despite how much he wants to shove and push the other man away from him. To yell and scream until his voice was horse and there was no doubt in anyone’s mind how Simon was feeling. Jace maybe felt guilty, might regret his actions but Simon suffered no delusions about the other man missing him. He would have had to care in the first place for that to be true.
Alec’s eyes had gone wide, leaning back slightly at Simon’s angry outburst. He looked shocked and that just pissed Simon off even more, like he thought Simon would just stand there and let Alec lie to to him, to make up some useless bullshit to help ease Jace’s conscious about what he had done. Simon didn’t want to here it from Jace, that’s why he hadn’t unblocked him yet and he sure as hell didn’t want to here it from Alec who was acting like some kind of messenger boy because Jace couldn’t be bothered to actually face Simon and take responsibility for his actions.
He looked at Simon in a strange mix of anger and pity and that just made things so much worse. He didn’t want anyone’s pity and especially not that of someone who barely liked him in the first place. Simon had been doing fine up to now, had been getting on with the job Alec had given him and actually making progress with the clans so why was Alec here, now of all times, trying to break Simon down and ruin his carefully crafted walls that were keeping him together?
Simon felt the presence behind him, heard the familiar beat of a slow and steady heart, that distinct smell of leather and books invading his senses. He knew someone was there and that was the only reason Simon didn’t tense as an arm was slung over his shoulder. Despite everything Simon’s feeling in that moment he feels himself relax slightly, safe in the knowledge that Alec wouldn’t start anything in front of someone else.
“Hey fangs, nice going there mate. Think you really won the stiffs over with all those facts and figures. Sure know it did it for me when you started banging on about all those statistics,” Dorian smirked down at Simon, wagging his eyebrows at his ridiculous comment and even though he could feel Alec glaring at him Simon couldn’t help but smile slightly, letting out a small huff of amusement at the other man’s ridiculousness.
Dorian was a giant goofball, something that Simon had been surprised by to start with but had come to appreciate over the last couple of weeks, especially when he had been at his most stressed and on the verge of pulling his hair out. Simon had gotten used to the casual touching as well, no longer flinching every time Dorian slung his arm over his shoulder or got in close behind him to look at what Simon was doing. If Dorian decided he liked you that was it, kiss goodbye to any sort of personal space when he was around because the man was more tactical than Simon had ever expected any shadowhunter to be and honestly he was kind of glad to have someone who didn’t flinch every time they touched his cold skin.
Simon snorted, rolling his eyes at the other mans playful jab. “Don’t be jealous of my mad skills,” Simon teased back, Dorian’s loud bark of laughter echoing around the room. “Well you and your skills better get a wiggle on or we’ll be late. We got a wolf to hunt and Barns is just about vibrating with excitement.” Oh. In his panic about Alec and his need to talk Simon had completely forgotten he was supposed to be accompanying Dorian and a few other shadowhunters on a hunt. Crap. Well at least it might help calm his mind, giving himself something other than bloody Jace Herondale to think about. It would give him an excuse to get away from Alec as well and hopefully by the time Simon got back to the institute he would be long gone.
“You go on hunts?” Alec asked, the surprise clear in his voice and instantly Simon’s half smile fell. Feeling like he needed to defend himself he turned to Alec, head held high in defiance and arms crossed over his chest. Alec was frowning, arms crossed in front of him and staring at Dorian’s arm that was still slung over Simon’s shoulder with distrust. Simon fought the urge to shrug the other man off, feeling like he had done something wrong by letting Dorian be so casual with him even though he knew he hadn’t. “Yeah. Can’t ask the clans to do something I’m not willing to do myself,” he retorted, staring at Alec even as he continued to eye Dorian’s arm like it was some sort of venomous snake about to strike.
Simon was used to hunts, having been out more times than he could count with Izzy and Jace in the last year. His willingness to go on them was meant to show the clans that the shadowhunters could be trusted but considering it was a well known fact that he had already been working with other shadowhunters he didn’t think it was having quite the impact he had hoped for. Simon on the other hand was just glad to have something to do to burn off some of his extra energy he had now that he wasn’t regularly falling into bed with someone every couple of days. He constantly felt restless in his own skin, his nervous energy worse than ever and in an attempt to burn some off it off he had taken to going on early morning running around Hyde park, Dorian more often than not joining him though Simon often ran rings around him, speeding off and only slowing down to yell ‘on your left’ before running off again, Dorian’s muttered curses fading quickly as Simon just laughed.
“Simon’s actually pretty handy to have around in a fight, whoever was training him at that institute of yours did a descent job of it.” Smiling Dorian turned to look at Simon, that ridiculous mischievous glint in his blue/green eyes again and apparently completely unbothered by the way Simon had gone incredibly still at the mention of who had been responsible for training him. “Though your attack could still use a little work. No worries though. Nothin’ a little hands on experience won’t fix.” He winked at him, smile getting that much bigger as Simon scowled back up at him. Alec made some sort of startled coughing noise and normally Simon would check to make sure he was okay but the mention of Jace had his mind wondering off again and he was helpless to stop it from following after the blonde.
As much as Simon didn’t want to admit it Jace had been a really good teacher and they had had fun whilst training, even on the hunts as well. Simon missed that, missed the way things had been before Jace had found out about band practice and before their friendship had gone up in flames like a multi car pileup that involved a gas tanker. He missed his friend, the man who laughed at his stupid jokes and cheated at Mario kart and liked mango smoothies and ran away from ducks in the park whilst Simon laughed so hard he felt like his ribs were going to crack from it. Simon missed their friendship more than anything and he hated himself for that because he wasn’t even sure he had even had it to start with. It was hard enough moving on as it was but now with Alec here, trying to make excuses for the other man it was just making it that much harder. Why couldn’t they all just drop it, let Simon get over his broken heart and move on instead of constantly reminding him of what he had lost?
“I’m coming with you.” Simon almost swallows his tongue at Alec’s authoritative tone, his eyes going wide as he looked up at the scowling man with mild horror. “What?” he managed to squeak out but neither of the other two seemed to be paying him any attention, Alec glaring at Dorian whilst he looked back with mild amusement. “It would be an honour to have you with us Inquisitor,” Dorian smirked, his fingers playing with the lapels of Simon’s suit jacket and Alec’s glare deepened. There seems to be a silent conversation going on between them, one that Simon has no idea was about but he gets the horrible feeling that it’s somehow about him and he really doesn’t like it.
It ends abruptly, whatever it is, Dorian stepping backwards and letting his arm fall from Simon’s shoulder. “Don’t take to long princess.” Simon scowls at the nickname, contemplating punching him in the arm but before he can Dorian is chucking his keys towards him. Simon’s hand darted out to grab them from the air, just before they can hit Alec’s chest. “It’s still weird that you lock your door,” Simon mumbled as he started towards the door, Dorian and Alec following behind him. Dorian was as relaxed as ever, that easy smile still in place but Alec seemed tense, brows furrowed in a deep frown. “Hey! You try waking up to a bed full of snakes and see if you trust the bastards you live with afterwards,” Dorian defended himself and Simon feels the smile curling at his lips and the laughter bubbling up but Alec opens his mouth and it all just shrivels up and dies.
“Someone put snakes in your bed?” Alec looks at Dorian in disbelief but all the other man dose is beam at him, his ridiculous smile so wide it looks like it should hurt. “Yeah, it was my birthday.” It’s the only explanation he gives as he yanks the door open, holding it open for Simon who slips out quickly, planning on just making a run for it to get away from this bizarre and awkward situation he has found himself in. He’s not so lucky though, Dorian grabbing at his hand and keeping him from his escape.
With a sight Simon turns to look at the other man, giving him his best annoyed and bored look that he was not ashamed to admit he had learnt from seeing the same expression on Alec’s face time and time again. “What?” he deadpanned. Dorian’s smile had fallen slightly, his eyes more green now they were in the hall and looking worriedly at Simon. “Meet you in the armoury?” Simon’s eyes darted over to Alec, the other man’s face a perfect mask of indifference, though his eyes were trained on their still laced fingers. “Sure,” he mumbled pulling his hand out of Dorian’s hold. He misses the warmth instantly but something about Alec’s scrutiny sits uneasy on his shoulders. He doesn’t wait for an answer, spinning on his heals and running at full speed down the corridor and away from whatever that had been.
He doesn’t stop until he reaches Dorian’s room, only just coming to a stop before he’s got the key in the lock. The lock had hardly clicked before he had the door open, slipping inside and closing it quickly, like if it was open to long Alec might appear and force his way in, determined to continue their ‘talk’. With a groan he leant against the door, his eyes closing as he tipped his head back.
This couldn’t be happening. It was one thing Alec wanting to talk, Simon almost prepaid to listen to whatever bullshit excuse he was going to make up to excuse Jace’s actions but it was a completely other thing to have to spend the evening with him, having nothing but time to stew in his own worry and anger as his over active imagination supplied him with every possible scenario that could be waiting for him once Alec finally got him alone again.
When Alec had said he wanted to talk Simon had been sure that he was going to get a fist to the face and a threat to stay away from Jace but he hadn’t been ready for Alec to try and smooth over the situation. Simon had been trying to avoid Jace and anything to do with him since coming here and so far he had been doing a pretty decent job of it, keeping himself busy to the point that there hadn’t really been room for the other man in his head but with Alec here Jace was once again an inescapable presence, his ghost following around the other shadowhunter and taunting Simon with his own frail and useless emotions.
Simon was angry and he had every right to be but he was also sad, heartbroken and devastated that someone he cared for so much could reduce him down to such an insignificant little blip, just another notch in Jace’s headboard. He desperately just wanted to move on, to put it all behind him and then maybe one day he would be able to think about Jace without feeling that sharp sting of heartbreak and shame. Maybe he would even be able to be in the same room as him without feeling like he needed to be anywhere else but there. Maybe, one day, but that day wasn’t today, wants even tomorrow or the day after. He needed time, space to work through it all and with Alec here insisting they talk about it when Simon clearly wasn’t ready for that wasn’t helping him move on with his life. No. It was keeping him stuck in that moment, trapped in that split second where he had had a lap full of Jace, his lips attached to his neck as he casually drove a steak through Simon’s cold dead heart.
Groaning Simon pushed away from the door and headed towards Dorian’s bed, his duffel bag sat on top of the messy sheets. Dorian’s room, just like all other rooms at the institute was on the large side, with a fire place on the opposite wall and a large window behind the bed that looked out over the city beyond. There was a dresser and wardrobe along the wall to his right, the draws open and clothes scattered around the room haphazardly along with random stacks of books, odd weapons and cups half filled with coffee. Now Simon was by no means a clean freak, he definitely left his fair share of clothes scattered around his apartment, the odd book abandoned where they definitely didn’t belong as well as sheets of music and lyrics that always turned up in random places but it was nothing compared to the absolute chaos that was Dorian’s disaster zone of a room. The man was a chaotic mess and Simon often wondered how he found anything but Dorian insisted it was organised chaos, swearing he knew where everything was.
Stepping over a stack of comics Simon finally made it to the bed and waisted no time in stripping off his suit and digging his patrol clothes out of his bag. Magnus hadn’t packed anything remotely suitable for this sort of thing and Simon had made the mistake of allowing Dorian to get him something when Simon had first suggested joining him on his hunts. Everything was some varying shade of black, Dorian insisting he needed to look the part and Simon had been too tired at the time to argue against the black combat boots, cargo trousers and black long sleeved t-shirt. It was what he was expecting to pull for his bag now but at some point in the ten minuets Dorian had been alone with his bag before the meeting he had switched out the black laces on his boots for neon rainbow ones and his once plain black t-shirt was now supporting the words ‘dead inside’ in bold rainbow print across the chest.
Simon groaned, contemplating abandoning the top and stealing one of Dorian’s, not wanting Alec to think he wasn’t taking this seriously but Simon figured that was probably not really a concern right now because Alec probably never would take him seriously any way. Plus he kind of liked the shirt, knowing full well that if Alec wasn’t there he would have worn it proudly and headed down to the armoury with a wide smile on his face. Cursing Dorian and his rubbish timing Simon pulled on his clothes, making a point to tie the stupid laces into little bows because he might as well go all in before grabbing his jacket and heading back out the door. He purposely didn’t lock it, hoping someone would fill his pigsty with spiders this time, Dorian then having to spend the next few days finding them hiding under every abandoned socks and crawling over his books.
He walked as slowly as he can towards the armoury without it looking suspicious, every step feeling like his boots were full of lead. Simon had never been that much of a fan of hunts and having to kill things, even if they were demons. He always worried about the people he was with and what if he ended up losing control and hurting someone by accident because that was always a possibility. It terrified him that he or one of the others would get hurt and he would just snap and end up with his fangs buried in the neck of someone he cared about. His control had gotten a lot better over the few short years since he had been turned but he was still young and his hunger was a constant thing that thrummed under his skin, always demanding he give into the call and feed it a torrent of blood regardless of where it came from.
Of course Simon understood why the hunts and patrols were necessary. It had to be done to protect the world and the people who lived in it, that’s why he didn’t complain about having to take part. Well mostly. He complained a lot when he got covered in blood and gore that he could still smell days after even though he had taken what felt like a hundred showers. If he could safely do so without putting anyone in danger Simon would avoid having to kill an actual person, whether that was a warlock, vampire or werewolf. He wasn’t a killer, despite what he was and each death weighed heavy on his conscious.
His reluctance was just made that much worse though by the fact Alec would be coming with them. He and Dorian were always professional and got the job done but they had fun doing it, Dorian always cracking jokes and laughing at Simon’s own equally bad ones. With Alec there though Simon felt like that wouldn’t be allowed. He knew how Alec liked to run missions and the relaxed, organised chaos that seemed to be Dorian’s style just wasn’t it. It was frustrating because Simon tended to enjoy going on hunts with Dorian, the only other person he had felt that relaxed around being Jace. He and Dorian worked well enough together and he had little doubt that it was because of how similar they were.
Simon had been surprised to find out that Dorian was a bit of a geek and they had had one to many lengthy and heated conversations about if Start Trek or Star Wars was better. It was nice, not having to explain what things were or seeing the interest dim in someone’s eyes as he rambled on about video games or comics. Dorian was always interested in what Simon had to say, offering his own opinion and being just as big a fan boy about Buffy as Simon was.
If Simon was being honest with himself, something he tried to be but rarely was, than Dorian was pretty much the perfect guy for him. They liked the same things and had a similar sense of humour and Dorian was definitely attractive, what with his easy smile and sun kissed skin that Simon imagined would feel like fire under his ice cold lips. Simon probably would have been happy with the other man but there was one glaring and unavoidable problem. Simon just wasn’t into him. He was a great guy and they had a rather amazing bromance going but that was it. They were friends and that was enough. Simon needed more friends in his life and less lovers anyway.
All too soon Simon found himself approaching the armoury and he slowed down, trying to put it off for as long as he could but that only lasted so long. Simon stopped just outside the door, leaning back against the wall and closing his eyes as he tried to work up the nerve to face Alec. The now inquisitor scared the hell out of Simon on a good day but this was different and all because he had brought Jace into it. Simon was down right terrified of what Alec wanted to say to him because Simon knew his fragile and damaged heart just wouldn’t be able to take it. He felt things way to much and nothing more so than love and the heartbreak that undoubtedly followed. He didn’t want to feel that sort of pain again if he could avoid it but Alec didn’t seem to want to give him that luxury.
This was stupid. He was being stupid. He was better than hiding down half empty corridors and he was stronger than he thought he was. He wouldn’t let Alec force him to be something he wasn’t and if he didn’t want to listen to what the other man had to say then he didn’t have to. He was a vampire after all and he could be gone quicker than Alec could even finish saying Jace’s name. Feeling slightly more determined Simon pushed away from the wall and tugged at his jacket to make sure it was straight before running both his hands through his hair and purposely messing it up. Taking a deep breath he rolled his shoulders back, held his head up high and strode into the room like he owned the place.
The armoury is busy, the team of shadowhunters coming with them in the middle of getting all their gear ready but Simon pays them little attention, instead focusing on Dorian and Alec like they were the only ones in the room. They’re stood by a table, on opposite sides to one another and pointedly not looking at one another as they secure their weapons. The tensions thick, almost tangible and for once Dorian isn’t smiling, instead glaring down at his hands as he fiddles with the buckle on his thigh holster. Alec doesn’t look any better, completely focused on checking over the bow he had taken off the wall but Simon supposes that’s not to different to how he normally looks before a mission. Maybe Dorian was just tense about having the big boss around and Simon was reading too much into the situation.
Dorian’s head snapped up as soon as he noticed Simon, his eyes instantly going to Simon’s chest and a wide smile spread across his lips. “You,” Simon pointed at him as he strode across the room, “are an asshole.” Dorian’s laughter is bright and clear as it rings out across the room, his whole face lighting up with amusement. It’s in direct contrast to the scowl Alec is supporting, his brows furrowed as he stared at Simon’s outfit. He ignores it as best he can, keeping his eyes fixed on Dorian. “Oh please,” Dorian scoffed, “you love it and you know it.” Coming to a stop by the table Simon rolled his eyes at the other man, something he seemed to do a lot and chucked his keys back to him, Dorian catching them effortlessly. “Whatever, just make sure my suit doesn’t go missing whilst it’s in your room,” he grumbles, snatching up the holster that had been left out for him on the table and started threading the leather through his belt loops. “Wouldn’t be the first time I’ve found you naked in my room,” Dorian teased, winking at Simon before dropping his attention back to getting his own gear ready, though that smug look doesn’t leave his lips.
Beside him Alec made some sort of noise between a cough and a pained whine and Simon’s still thankful that he can’t blush anymore. He darts his eyes up, looking at Alec without stopping his task of securing the blot pouch to his leg. The other man looks like someone just told him guys could get pregnant, shocked and confused as well as a little green. Simon knows how it sounds, knows what Dorian’s words could be take to mean and yet he doesn’t bother correcting Alec’s assumptions because they already think Simon’s a slut and it’s really none of his business anyway. It wasn’t anything like that though, Dorian having walked in on him getting changed. Simon had tripped over in his haste to pull his underwear on and landed flat on his back, naked as the day he was born. He had just laughed at Simon’s embarrassment as he scrambled to cover up his nudity, closing the door behind him as he stepped back out into the corridor and giving Simon time to get his clothes back on.
Alec gains composure quick enough, schooling his features back into his normal resting annoyance though he keeps his eyes on Simon as he walked around the table and over to the wall of weapons, plucking crossbow bolts from their holders and placing them into the pounce on his thigh, being extra careful not to touch the adamas tips. “I didn’t know Jace showed you how to shoot?” Alec questioned and instantly Simon tenses, his body going still for a second before he forces himself to relax and go back to filling the pouch, one bolt at a time. “He didn’t,” Simon said coldly, hoping Alec would get the hint and stop trying to talk to him because things would go a lot better if he did.
“Nah Si learnt his mad skills at nerd school,” Dorian teased, stepping up next to Simon and grabbing the crossbow down from the top rack, handing it off to Simon so he could secure it to the clip at the back of his trousers. It was small, designed to be held with one hand and sort of looked like a gun that had been modified. It was all black because of course it was, a series of runes carved into the side that were supposed to help with accuracy and speed, something Simon really didn’t need. It’s his though, well the one Dorian had declared his anyway, the blonde even having gone as far as to carve a rather crude image of fangs on it next to the runes.
Huffing in amusement Simon glanced up at Dorian and offered him a small smile that the other man returned with a wide grin, showing off his perfectly straight white teeth. Dorian knew he was tense, it would be pretty hard not to notice it and he was trying to help ease that worry, wrongly assuming it was because Alec was there and thought he was incompetent idiot. He wasn’t wrong about Simon thinking that but he couldn’t exactly tell him why Simon was actually so anxious about having the other man here.
“You went to a school to learn how to be a nerd?” Alec’s confused voice cut through the silence and Simon and Dorian both turned to look at Alec like he had just come out and said he wore pink tutus on the weekends. “No,” Simon deadpanned as Dorian burst out laughing, his hand gripping at Simon’s shoulder to support himself as he doubled over. Alec continued to look at them like they were the crazy ones and with a groan Simon tried to explain without confusing the other man more than he already was. “It wasn’t a school, it was a summer camp and it wasn’t nerdy.” Simon shot Dorian a quick disapproving frown but the other man was still laughing slightly and he waved off his correction like he hadn’t already known where Simon had learnt to fire an arrow. “It was about faith and tolerance and not ending up joining a gang or getting involved in crime and drugs and ending up dead before hitting eighteen but, whatever. That’s not important,” Simon said, waving his hand dismissively before he could get too stuck on it and end up in an unneeded rant about how well that worked out for him. “What is important was that they had an archery program and for six years I spent two weeks in the summer pretending to be Legolas.”
The room fell into silence, Dorian finally able to stop laughing though he was still holding onto Simon’s shoulder, the heat of his palm just making it through the layers of clothing and warming the skin underneath. Alec was looking at Simon weirdly, like he was actually seeing him for the first time and it left him feeling exposed and anxious. He didn’t like being the sole focus of someone’s attention, at least not like this and especially not from Alec. It made him feel like he was being dissected, cut open and pulled apart to get at everything hiding underneath and he really didn’t want Alec to find out all those things he had been hiding, burying down as deep as they would go.
“Please tell me you wore a blonde wig and tights at some point and there are photos?” Dorian grinned, either not noticing the way Alec was looking at him or just not caring. “In your dreams,” Simon scoffed. There were in fact photos, Simon having dressed up as the elf for Halloween when he was sixteen. Clary had taken way to many photos, getting Simon to strike pose after pose as they made their way through Central Park. Simon only had one photo from then though, he and Clary pressed close together and smiling brightly at the camera. They looked so happy so carefree but even then the down world had been encroaching and now as a vampire he could see the seelie in the background, slipping through the tress. The rest of the photos were lost now, gone with the rest of Clary’s belongings and never to be seen again. Just like the redhead.
“Well now that you mention it,” Dorian waggled his eyebrow at him, nudging his shoulder into Simon’s and knocking him out of his thoughts. Simon huffs, shoving the other man off of him and he goes with a laugh, grabbing his blades off the table and slotting them into their holsters. Dorian like’s getting up close and personal, carrying two daggers as well as a relatively short sword that goes into the thigh holster whilst the other two slot into a holster at the small of his back so he could easily reach round and pull them out in a fight. “Right! Now that fangs is ready shall we head out? We can talk tactics on the way Inquisitor.” Dorian walked backwards as he spoke, pointing behind him towards the door and still grinning like the idiot he was.
“Stop calling me that,” Simon grumbled half heartedly as he followed after him, Alec falling into step beside him. Dorian just smiled, infuriatingly happy when all Simon could feel was anxiety and an almost crippling sense of dread. Tonight wasn’t going to end well and whether that meant Alec was going to hit him or Simon was going to finally have a nervous breakdown he didn’t know but what he did know was that it was inevitable and he had been foolish to think he would have been able to get out of any ramifications from punching Jace. Sighing he shoved his hands into his jacket pockets, pulling it closed in an attempt to hide most of the colourful writing and kept his head down, trying to ignore Alec’s foreboding presence next to him.
It was going to be a long night and as they stepped out into the still busy street Simon seriously contemplated faking some sort of vampire related emergency and heading back to the Averard, hiding away in his room and pretending the rest of the world didn’t exist. He doesn’t but he really wishes he was the kind of guy who could do that and not feel like a shitty friend after flaking on something important. That and he knows if he puts this off it will just make it worse when Alec finally manages to pin him down. No it’s better to just get it over and done with and then Simon can spend the daylight hours being an unhealthy mix of angry and sad so that by the time he has to interact with anyone again he should be mostly put back together again. It’s a shitty situation but Simon’s an adult and as they make their way through the busy night time streets, everyone oblivious to the heavily armed group, Simon resolves to act like the mature one and let Alec say whatever it is he wants to before politely telling him when he can shove whatever apology Jace had asked him to pass on to ease his bruised ego.
The walk out to the Heygate estate took about an hour and true to his word Dorian kept the conversation strictly about work, placing himself between Simon and Alec and not really giving the other man a chance to actually speak directly to Simon. For his part he only half listens to what’s being said, Simon already having heard the details. Instead he focuses more on the sounds of the city and the press of people around them as they make their way across the Thames and south towards Elephant and Castle, using the ambient noise to help calm him. He picks up little bits of the conversation though, Dorian not hold back on the detail about the bloody mess of animal remains that had been found nor the poor man who had had is leg ripped off by a large rabid dog that had sounded far too much like a werewolf for the institute to ignore.
Alec’s voice was a deep rumble as they discussed the lack of the local packs involvement, something that was both suspicious and concerning to everyone involved but thankfully it had nothing to do with Simon. He was here to fix the vampire problem, not the werewolf one. He did offered the odd comment about tactics and reasons behind the sudden attacks but otherwise he stayed quiet, not wanting to draw too much of Alec’s attention. Maybe if he got really into the hunt he would forget about his need to talk to Simon and he wouldn’t have to suffer through the undoubtedly awkward and heart breaking experience that was coming.
When they got to Heygate it was like a whole different word, a barren wasteland of grey concrete and rusty trollies that had half been claimed back by nature. The estate was due to be demolished, the vast stretch of towering buildings abandoned as it stood waiting to be reduced to rubble. It was eerie what with the windows smashed in and half the street lights not working, almost every bit of wall covered with graffiti that was a mix of tags, gang signs and profanities. It’s a bleak place, no hint of hope to be seen and Simon doesn’t really want to imagine how desperate someone would have to be, let alone a werewolf, to take up residence here.
“People actually lived here?” Simon glanced behind at Alec’s disbelieving words, watching the other man slip through the gap in the chain link fence that Simon had forced open for them, his bow held close to his chest so as not to damage it. “Not any more but yeah, thousands of people actually.” Dorian looks around as he talks, eyes moving across row after row of empty and darkened windows. The estate is vast and all they know is that something that resembles a werewolf had been seen going in and out of the condemned place and terrorising local residences and business owners. They have no clue if it’s one wolf or a new pack, or even just a stray dog that’s gotten big of eating rats and peoples cats.
Though there are a few of them it’ll still take time to search everywhere and there’s no guarantee that they will even find a lone wolf amongst all the concrete and maze of rooms. “Want me to run round and check it out?” Simon asked over his shoulder, not even looking at Dorian as he moved further between the buildings. It was worse then when he arrived at the Averard, these buildings towering higher above him than the hotel had. Derelict and empty it reminded Simon of one his zombie games, a group of survivors heading into the dead zone for food only be ambushed and eaten. He really hoped that wasn’t how tonight ended up.
Dorian curled his hand around Simon’s shoulder, squeezing gently and Simon turned to look at him. “Let’s stick to the plan shall we.” He looks pointedly at Simon, waiting for an answer and he bobs his head in agreement. “Yeah sure. Stick to the plan. Got it. No problem’o.” He’s rambling, the words rushing out of him and with grate effort he manages to snap his mouth shut before the shadowhunters start thinking him weirder than they already do. Dorian just smirks at him, his eyes alight with amusement but he doesn’t comment on Simon’s nervous behaviour or his desire to get away from them.
“We’ll split up into groups. Smith, you and Barns take the building on the left. Woods and Morgan you the one on the right.” Dorian rattled off his commands, the other turning to their assigned partners as he listed them off, drawing runes across their skin that they thought would be useful if they got in a fight. As the list got shorter Simon felt that nagging feeling of dread grow and mentally he crossed his fingers chanting not Alec, not Alec over and over again in his head in hopes that somehow Dorian would be able to feel his need to get away from the man. “O’Donald you’re with me back left and Simon you and the Inquisitor can take back right. Everyone else you take the lower buildings.”
As soon as he’s stopped talking the group start to fan out, heading in the directions they had been sent. “You did that on purpose,” Simon grumbled, his voice low enough that only Dorian could hear. Alec was already striding towards them, his expression unreadable though Simon imagined he was probably annoyed at having been lumbered with him. Dorian slung his arm across Simon’s shoulder again, leaning in to whisper in his ear as they both watch Alec get closer. “He’s your friend, plus he’s intimidating as fuck and I really don’t wanna have to spend more time with him than I need to.” Dorian’s breath is hot against Simon’s cold cheek, the smell of his coconut shampoo even stronger as his hair fluttered in the wind. He was close, practically pressed against Simon’s side. He didn’t needing to be looking at him to know that Dorian was smirking because he could feel his lips curling up against his cheek as he spoke, feather light as they brushed against him. Alec’s glare hardened, his eyes narrowing as he picked up the pace, covering the short distance remarkably quickly.
“So suck it up buttercup and go play nice with the big boss.” Dorian stepped away from Simon, patting him on the shoulder before letting go of him completely and leaving Simon feeling cold and abandoned to his fate. So much for being able to use everyone else as a buffer. “Oh, whilst you’re at it maybe you could remove that stick out off his ass as well.” Simon spun round to face Dorian, lips pulled back on a snarl and fangs showing but he was already gone, jogging to catch up to his partner and his gleeful laughter echoing between the buildings as he waved at Simon over his shoulder.
“You okay?” Simon tensed at Alec’s words, hands balling into fists at his sides. That was a loaded question and the simple answer would be no, Simon was not okay. In fact he was probably the furthest from okay he could get without sustaining serious bodily harm. “I’m fine,” Simon snapped, not bothering to look back at Alec. He felt on edge, like a caged animal and he didn’t like it. His fangs ached and his body was tense and he was so angry about the whole bloody situation because he had been doing okay, had been able to start putting the whole crap fest behind him but then Alec had shown up and said Jace’s name once and everything had just come crumbling down on top of him. He wanted to snap and snarl, to demand Alec get on with it or go away because he couldn’t take the waiting any more, couldn’t bare the fearful suspense that every time Alec opened his mouth that name would come spewing out again.
He heard the intake of breath behind him, the beginning of a word forming but despite his anger and need to get this over and done with Simon found himself cutting Alec off before he could even get the words to properly form, not wanting to do this here when they had a job to do. “Look just, let’s go already. I’ve still got to give Elizabeth a briefing before the sun comes up so I can’t afford to be waisting time here.” His words are sharp and angry, a slight snarl to them that reminds him to much of the monster he is. There’s a pause, one, two, three beats of Alec’s heart and then he’s stepping up next to Simon, gesturing to the dimly lit walkway ahead, “lead the way.” Simon grunts, ignoring the sharp edge to Alec’s words and starts off towards their assigned building, moving as quickly as he could without braking out into vampire speed. Annoyingly Alec keeps up, staying at Simon’s side as he strides through the overgrown and rubbish filled alleyways.
Neither of them speak, not even a word about strategy as they get closer to the derelict building. Simon’s honestly thankful for that because he’s still tense, fighting against the urge to grind his teeth together in his anger. Simon knows basic operating standards for this type of thing and when they get to the doors to the apartment block he presses himself up against the wall, one hand curled around the door handle and his fully loaded crossbow in the other. Alec stands ready, the string of his bow pulled back and arrow poised to go flying free of his hold if something was waiting for them inside. He kept his eyes fixed firmly on the door and gave a sharp jerk of his head. Simon yanked the door open, holding it wide so Alec can make his way in first before following after him, his crossbow raised as his eyes darted around the darkened space.
They make their way silently through the building, Alec leading and Simon obediently following behind just like he had been taught to. They work their way from one side of the building to the other, checking every room for signs of life and finding nothing but more graffiti, cigarette buts and empty bottles of cheap alcohol. There’s the distinct smell of smoke and paint still clinging to the air, as well as stale sweat and the musky stench of sex. It’s unpleasant, a horrible mix that’s underlined with damp and decay that has Simon wishing he could lift up his shirt and cover his nose and mouth but he knows it wouldn’t stop the rancid smell getting in, just mix his own in there as well. So instead he stops breathing, his mouth staying firmly shut as he tries to block out the smells around him. It doesn’t quite work and he tried to find something else to focus on but all there’s only Alec, with his steady heartbeat and even breathing and that unmistakable sweetness that is Nephilim blood.
Simon’s hungry, he always is but this is more then that low level hunger that he’s gotten so used to by now. He hadn’t eaten that evening, an idiotic choice on his part but Alec’s need to talk had left him feeling sick with how nervous he was and the smell of Alec’s blood had his fangs aching and hunger spiking.
Nephilim blood is the best Simon has ever tasted, bright like sunshine exploding across his palate and none more so than Jace’s, that pure angel blood making the man taste as good as he looks, fucking perfect and addictive. Simon still craves that rush, the give of flesh under his fangs as he bites down and a heartbeat racing as that warm and rich ambrosia filled his mouth. Alec wouldn’t taste as good, just like Izzy hadn’t but he would still be addictive and delicious, making Simon’s cold insides fill warm for once. Feeding off Izzy had felt like bitting into a plump and juicy peach, its juices running down Simon’s chin on a hot summer’s day. Alec though, he would be like dark chocolate, rich and earthy and like velvet on his tongue, curled in front of a roaring fire as a storm raged on outside.
He should feel disgusted with himself, horrified that he was comparing how his friends tasted and a part of him did but it was not the first time he had had these kind of thoughts and he had grown scarily used to that particular way of thinking. It didn’t mean anything, didn’t mean that Simon was itching to sink his fangs in and find out if he was right. He didn’t want to know because they weren’t food, not to him but it did help to keep him distracted, his sense of smell focused on Alec as his eyes kept watch for anything unusual and his ears strained to pick up the sound of something outside their own footsteps and Alec’s steady breathing mixed with his equally calm heartbeat. He didn’t think about why Alec had stuck around or what he wanted to talk about. He didn’t worry about Jace or everything that had happened before he came to London nor what would happen once all this was over and done with and he had to go back and face the disaster that was his life. Simon focused on the task at hand, completely happy with the silence that surrounded them as they worked their way up the building. He would need to feed as soon as he got back to the Averard though, his fangs digging into his bottom lip as he toed the line of his hunger. Maybe he could call ahead and get a pot of the good stuff sent up to his room, hand over the extra cash for something a little richer than his normal O+.
Neither of them spoke until they were almost halfway up the building, Alec the one to finally break the silence as they continued to climb up the stairs. “Why didn’t you say you could use a bow and arrow?” His voice was a low rumble and it took Simon a few seconds to actually realise that Alec had spoken. Frowning he looked up at Alec, the man a few steps ahead of him on the stairs. He wasn’t looking at Simon, his head turned up and looking at the dimly lit steps above them, his bow raised as if he was expecting something to jump out of the shadows.
It had probably been about two hours since that conversation in the armoury and Simon had just assumed that Alec had forgotten about it or just didn’t care outside the initial shock but apparently not. Had he been thinking about that this whole time? “What was the point? You all think I’m useless anyway and it’s not like any of you would have let me near your gear to prove it,” he answers truthfully. There hadn’t been a point for in saying anything because Simon wasn’t one for violence and as a vampire he didn’t really need to use weapons. It did make him feel kind of badass though, dressed like a shadowhunter (minus the rainbow laces and colourful print shirt), his crossbow firmly with his grasp as he stalked through the halls of an abandoned building. Again he was reminded of a video game, like a live action call of duty but without the guns and way more supernatural elements than just zombies.
“We don’t think you’re useless,” Alec mumbled as Simon slipped past him to the next door, curling his fingers around the handle and looking to Alec for his jerky nod before pulling the door open so the other man could step out into the next corridor. Simon huffed choosing to ignore the fact that he hadn’t said anything about not letting Simon near their equipment and the two of them fell back into silence as they began the process of clearing the floor. Simon knew they didn’t think him useless now but they had, back when he had been mundane and nervous and then newly turned and constantly on edge, fighting against what he was like the idiot he had been and honestly he had been kind of a disaster back then but he had grown up since then, accepting what he was and finding his place in the down world.
They cleared two more floors before Alec spoke again.
“I like your shirt,” Alec said suddenly and Simon froze, his hand curled around the handle of the door. Alec didn’t seem to notice his sudden immobility, striding past him and out onto the next floor. It’s the roof, the wind howling and whipping Alec’s hair around as he steps out, bow raised and eyes darting round the darkness for any sign of wolf activity. Simon actually doesn’t know what to say to that, hadn’t been expecting anything even remotely along those lines and its left him feeling like he had taken a step forward and found nothing beneath his foot.
“Thanks,” he mumbled, sounding just as confused as he felt. Alec had never complimented his
Track 9 - I used to be love drunk but now I’m hungover
Rating:E 18+ (scenes of a sexual nature ~ canon typical violence ~ rated E for latter chapters)
Pairings:Simon Lewis x Jace (insert chosen last name here) / minor Magnus Bane x Alec Lightwood / minor Simon Lewis x others
Chapter summary: Simon arrives in London and determined to do his best he pushes last nights event and Jace from his mind but that is easier said than done. He has had Jace on his mind since the first time Simon had laid eyes on the unfairly attractive man just this time it’s for all the wrong reasons.
Simon hated portals.
They always made his stomach churn, like being on one of those old and deadly looking roller coasters out on Coney Island, never quite sure if you would come out of the experience with your life or your lunch still in your stomach. Magnus insisted he will get used to it eventually but Simon would rather he just stuck to the boring mundane ways of travel instead. At least then he wouldn’t have to worry about getting distracted and ending up in some sort of limbo for all eternity, a real possibility considering how Simon’s mind tended to wonder even at the best of times.
He had stopped breathing whilst going through the portal, desperate to limit any distractions that could possibly lead to ending up in the aforementioned portal limbo. As he stepped out the other side though he sucked in a deep breath, filling his lungs with air once more and sinking back into the familiar yet useless habit of breathing. Instantly he was hit by the smell of old books, leather and must along with the distinct sweet tang of nephilim blood, like ripe strawberries on a summer day. Nervously Simon tried to push his hunger down, cursing his lack of breakfast but he hadn’t been able to stomach the bottle of blood that had been waiting for him that morning, the very thought of having to drink it making his stomach churn. He had tried to put it down to nerves, worrying about the task he was about to take on and what would happen if he failed to make any headway with the clans. And he was nervous about that, how could he not be but the prospect of having to see Jace again so soon had far outweighed anything he might have been feeling about coming to London.
He had barely made it through the institute doors, Simon having started to hyperventilate about half a block out, struggling to breath witch was just stupid because he didn’t even need to breath in the first place but that hadn’t stopped him form darting into a side street and pressing himself against the wall as he gasped for air. It had taken him almost an hour to stop shaking, having stopped breathing all together just to regain some sort of composure even as he rapidly begin to fall apart. When he had finally made it to the institute he had still been jumpy as all hell, expecting Jace to be lurking around every corner and ready to return the punch Simon had delivered the night before. He had been so angry last night, his whole body burning with his rage but in the bright light of day all that had simmered down to nothing but a gently smoldering rage that paled in comparison to his raging anxiety.
He didn’t want to see Jace acting like nothing had happened, so indifferent to the pain he had caused Simon, like it was his fault for bringing emotions into the casual sex Jace had been after. Simon couldn’t deny that. He was the one that had gotten attached after all and Jace had every right not to want that kind of relationship from Simon but just because he had a bit of a reputation now didn’t mean he would willing let himself be reduced down to some glorified moving sex doll, free for the taking. He deserved more than that, especially from the people who were supposed to care about him. It didn’t stop him from being absolutely terrified of seeing Jace again though and that just made him feel worse. He had never been scared of Jace before, intimidated sure but never scared and Simon really didn’t like the feeling.
Turned out though he was panicking over nothing, the blonde not even bothering to make an appearance. Simon didn’t know why he had expected anything different after last night, he already knew he didn’t mean anything to Jace so why he expected to see the man there, waiting to see him off Simon didn’t know. A stupid sense of misplaced hope probably, Simon desperate for Jace to take it all back and tell him it was all just some crazy misunderstanding. He didn’t need anyone to tell him how stupid and naïve that was of him, clinging onto the small shards of hope even as they cut his hands open. He already knew it would never happen. “Glad you could join us Mr. Lewis.” The bored drawl startled Simon out of his spiraling thoughts, his eyes snapping up to the two men before him.
Simon cursed himself, so stuck in his own head that he had failed to even notice the room he was in let alone the people before him. Even three thousand miles away Jace was still invading his mind, still the only thing Simon seemed to be able to focus on and he hated it. Hated that even after everything that had happened between them that he still couldn’t get the other man out of his head and his life. He needed to stop, needed to cut Jace out of his life now whilst he didn’t have the man around to remind him of how worthless and pathetic he really was. Simon was here to do a job, an important one at that and he wouldn’t let his broken heart and Jace’s callousness ruin it. Taking a deep calming breath Simon’s eyes quickly flickered across the room, taking in his surroundings in a matter of seconds.
The room was on the large side with a high ceiling that the early afternoon light didn’t quite reach. There was a large and old looking wooden desk in front of him, two tall windows behind it with heavy looking curtains pulled and tied to one side, a painting of what Simon thought was Idris hung on the wall between them. To the left of him was a large unlit fire place, the stone surrounding carved with scrolls and leaves with two large bookcases on either side that covered the rest of the wall and were packed full of books that looked older than Magnus. Simon had stepped out of the portal and in between two leather arms chairs, facing the desk and feeling very much like he had stepped into a mafia movie as he took in the scene before him.
Behind the desk was sat a man who Simon could only assume was Dayton, the current head of the institute. He looked older than Simon had thought he would, with wrinkles around his dull brown eyes and white flecked through his hair and beard. His brows are were furrowed, making the wrinkles around his eyes look deeper, his head bent down and completely focused on the rather large stack of paperwork in front of him. Like most other shadowhunters he was dressed in dark colors, the sleeves of his charcoal grey shirt rolled up to his elbows and the top two buttons open, the black of his runes standing out against his weathered skin. He looked like the kind of man who had seen everything and Simon wanted to ask him about a thousand questions but he knew now wasn’t the best time to do so, maybe if he managed to actually accomplish something with the clans he might be able to put up with Simon’s insistent talking long enough to answer a couple.
Slight movement in the corner of his eye had Simon snapping his attention to the side and onto the other man in the room. On the few occasions Simon had spoken to Dorian he had been nothing but professional and to the point and when he had imagined the other man he had kind of been imaging someone like Raphael but without any defined features and a bunch of runes littered across his body but the man before him was not like Raphael at all, oozing confidence that could rival even Jace and practically radiating a low level mischievousness.
He was leant back against the desk, arms crossed over his chest and legs stretched out in front of him, crossed at his ankles and looking both relaxed and ready to spring into action at any moment. He couldn’t be that much older than Simon, his easy smile and excited eyes giving him a sort of boyish charm. Oh and what eyes they were, not green but not blue either, instead a swirling mix that seemed to change with the moving light. They sucked Simon in, held his attention and he knew that if given the chance he would probably lose himself in them because they were just that beautiful. Not that the rest of the man was anything to scoff at.
His skin was practically glowing with the golden sun kissed tan he had going on, almost like it was radiating the heat he had absorbed from being out in the sun’s rays. His hair was a light brown, almost bordering on the edges of being a dark blonde and hung in slight waves around his rather symmetrical and sharp looking face, the ends just brushing against his shoulders. Simon’s fingers twitched with the urge to run through the silky looking strands, wanting to know if they were as soft as they looked and maybe ask him what conditioner he used. Then there were the muscles, straining at the thin fabric of his black t-shirt with every exhale. Simon was by no means scrawny but Dorian looked like he could bench press him easily, his biceps looking even bigger than Jace’s and considering how jacked he was that was saying something.
He looked like he had just stepped off the cover of some romance novel and Simon could easily imagine him in an open white shirt that was billowing in the wind instead of the black short sleeved t-shirt, black jeans and combat boots he was currently supporting. Though Simon could also see the appeal of his current look, the ruins definitely helping with that. They littered his arms, some fresh and some faded though all of them stood out against his otherwise flawless skin. Simon had no clue what half of them were for but he did recognize the one for vision on his right bicep, Jace having explained once when Simon had gotten curious about his own, fingers gently running across the black mark, listening as best he could even though he had been more focused on the feel of the man’s warm skin under his cold hand. He had said it was like a zoom on a camera, enhancing his sight and letting them focus on things in the distance. Jace had held perfectly still until Simon had realized what he was doing and had snatched his hand back, laughing nervously and shooting of some quip about calling him Nikon from now on. He hadn’t understood and by the time Simon had finished explaining Jace had his shirt back on and Simon had managed to gain some sort of control over his own impulsive actions.
Simon moved his gaze on, dragged his eyes across every rune he could see on Dorian’s exposed skin, following the curves and dips all the way up to his collar bone and the curled edges of what looked like the beginning of a spiral peeking out above the collar of his shirt. He didn’t recognize that one, not having seen it before on Izzy or Clary and definitely not having seen it amongst the many that covered Jace’s body.
Simon instantly slammed a wall down on that train of thought, forcing the image of a topless Jace smirking invitingly as deep down as he could. He had barely been here two seconds and he had already thought of the blonde shadowhunter more than he wanted to, not to mention he was comparing Dorian to him like Jace was the gold standard for attractive shadowhunters. He wasn’t. Simon would never be able to deny that Jace was an attractive man and the blonde knew it but he wasn’t the only one and Simon would be prepared to put money down on the fact that Dorian was just as attractive if not more so. Not that Simon was interested, not at all. It was just a casual observation. The guy was attractive and you would have to have be blinded not to notice that.
Dorian’s lips quirked up into a smirk, a knowing glint in his eyes and Simon realized he had been caught staring like some sort of creep. Even though his appraisal had lasted maybe five seconds Dorian still knew what Simon had been doing but considering he was the current vampire liaison for the institute Simon should have known he would be able to read the minute and fast actions.
Glad that he could no longer blush Simon turned his attention back to Dayton, the man still focused on his paperwork. “It’s good to be here. Sir?” The last word came out as more of a question, Simon not really sure what he should be calling the man. He was so used to just addressing Izzy and Alec by their names that he hadn’t really given much thought as to how he would need to address the other heads of institutes. The other shadowhunters always addressed them as Sir or Mam but Simon wasn’t a shadowhunter and he wasn’t under the claves command so it didn’t seem right to address him as such. He could always call him by his name but that seemed a little too informal considering they had only just met. He was desperate not to make a bad impression but to fall at the first hurdle like this and over something so trivial was just pathetic, even for him.
Finally the older man looked up, placing his papers down and giving Simon a small but somewhat strained smile. “Please, call me Dayton and you already know Dorian.” He gestured towards the other man still leaning casually against the desk and Simon’s eyes instantly darted to the side, the other shadowhunter reclaiming his attention. He pushed away from the table with his hips, uncrossing his legs before he uncurled his arms, offering Simon a large tanned hand as he stepped forward. “It’s nice to finally put a face to the voice, though you are not exactly what I was expecting.” His eyes flickered across Simon as they shook hands, his grip firm but not too tight and Simon made sure to grip back just as tightly, the man’s warmth sinking into his cold skin. “Erm yeah, same. Your-” Simon dragged his eyes across the other man, swallowing nervously as he made brief eye contact, “taller than I imagined,” he mumbled pathetically even as he had to look up at the other man. Simon was by no means short but Dorian seemed to tower over him, at least as tall as Alec if not slightly more so by an inch or two and it was both of putting and yet stupidly attractive at the same time.
Dorian quirked an eyebrow at him, an amused smile curling at his lips. Great, he was swapping one smug pretty boy for another. Why couldn’t he have been ugly, with a monobrow or have a massive mole on his chin? Why did he have to be so unfairly attractive? He knew it as well, that unmistakable air of confidence way to appealing. He had a type, Simon knew that and Dorian was exactly that. Confident, strong and charming, all things that Simon liked in a partner, both romantically and sexually. Though the charming part had mostly only ever applied to one person in particular and half the time that hadn’t even been directed his way but it hadn’t stopped Simon from liking it all the same.
He let go of Dorian’s hand quickly when he realized where his mind was going, taking a step back to put some much needed distance between the two of them. He wasn’t here for that and he didn’t even want to get involved with anyone either. He was done with love and romance and stupid idiotic band practice to at least the end of the decade. No he was here to focus on the job given to him and that was it. There would be no fucking his feelings away, not this time anyway.
“Have there been any more incidents?” Simon asked getting straight to the point, turning his attention back to Dayton. The man sighed, leaning back in his chair and running a hand through his short hair. He looked tired, like he had been awake for days and was ready to pass out at any given moment. “There was a rather heated argument last night but it was stopped before it could dissolve into a full blown brawl.” Simon frowned, nodding his head along to what the man was saying. Tensions were running high and from what Dorian had told him the vampire clans were getting more and more agitated with every request for aid that came their way. If fights were breaking out in the streets things were worse than he had thought.
“The guy was pissed, thought he could start something and get away with it. Unlucky for him they don’t take any shit down at the devil,” Dorian snapped angrily, leaning back against the desk and cross his arms over his chest. Simon had no clue what Dorian was talking about but Dayton did, huffing in amusement. “When it suits them at least.” Before Simon could ask what the hell they were talking about a sharp knock sounded through the room and they all turned to look at the door. The gruff call of ‘come in’ barely having left Dayton’s mouth before the door was swinging open, another shadowhunter stepping into the room. She didn’t even look a Simon, quickly moving towards the desk and holding out another a file towards Dayton. “The report on the warlock incident out in Soho, Sir.” Sighing Dayton took it, looking at Simon and offering him and apologetic smile. “No rest for the wicked it seems. Dorian will help you with getting around and will be your primary point of contact for the institute. We appreciate the help and if there is anything you need do not hesitate to ask.” He smiled tiredly, nodding his head once before turning his attention back down to the file in his hands and clearly dismissing the people in the room.
“Come on, there’s and office down the corridor we can use.” Dorian jerked his head towards the door, taking Simon’s suit case from him before striding off and leaving Simon to hurry after him as the man disappeared out the door. “Keep up Lewis, don’t want you getting lost and ending up in Cornwall. Oh, and watch out for ghosts,” Dorian called over his shoulder, Simon’s eyes widening at the statement. That wasn’t possible right? He couldn’t just take a wrong turn and end up down at the English coast could he? That was just insane, even for the shadow world. He had to be joking about the ghosts as well, though the place was old and had that same slightly creepy vibe all old places had that left Simon’s skin prickling and feeling like he was being watched. It was enough to have him speeding up, falling into step next to Dorian and ignoring the other man’s laughter.
Wordlessly he followed the shadowhunter down the hall, failing to take anything in as he kept his attention fixed on Dorian just to make sure he didn’t lose sight of him. They barely passed anyone as they made their way through the institute, Simon so used to the New York one being a buzz of activity that it just seemed weird that the building almost came off as empty. The musty smell of leather and books still clung to air, like it was seeping from the very walls. Simon could still taste the sweet tang of nephilim blood on his tongue and he quickly stopped breathing, trying to keep his hunger at bay and prevent his fangs from dropping.
Dorian came to a sudden stop, flinging one of the heavy looking doors open and ushering Simon inside before following him in and closing the door behind them. He took the suit carrier off of him, leaving Simon to look around as he stowed that and his suitcase away in a cupboard in the corner. Much like Dayton’s office the room was on the large side, the ceiling high above and hidden in shadows, the light from the one window not quite reaching it. There was an equally empty fireplace on the left, an old map of London framed in a gilded frame above it and the right wall was lined with low cabinets that looked like they were at least a couple of hundred years old. The majority of the room though was taken up by a large oval table, eight chairs spread around it and a decanter of blood and a glass already sat at the end closest to him.
His stomach rumbled, his hunger making its self known and he had the good sense to feel embarrassed as the loud sound cut through the quiet room. “Help yourself,” Dorian laughed as he circled around behind Simon, patting him on the back on his way past to the cabinets. Simon hesitated for all of a second, watching Dorian as he started looking through the cupboards. When he didn’t say anything else Simon darted forward, quickly snatching up the glass bottle and pulling the stopper out. His mouth watered at the metallic tang that wafted up to him, his fangs having already dropped and now digging into his bottom lip.
He managed to keep himself in check to pour out a glass, drinking slowly so as not to make himself sick. It wasn’t the freshest blood he had ever had but it was only a day or two old and had yet to turn and end up tasting like sewage water. He hadn’t realized how hungry he was but considering he hadn’t drank anything since the party last night it was to be expected, especially considering he had thrown most of it up not long after he had gotten home, the memory of Jace on top of him, mouth attached to Simon’s neck like he was the vampire making his stomach churn.
“Better?” Dorian’s voice jerked Simon back to the here and now and his free hand fell from where he had been unknowingly rubbing at the spot Jace had bitten him. Licking at his lips to clean them of any lingering blood Simon placed the glass down on the table, feeling even more like an idiot than he had before. What was he even doing, acting like some kind of half-starved freshly turned monster? Shit this was not going how Simon had wanted it to, not even in the slightest.
“Sorry, I erm, I skipped breakfast this morning,” Simon mumbled, the excuse sounding stupid even as he said it. Dorian shrugged as he turned back to Simon, a large role of paper in hand. “Don’t sweat it, you’re not my first fledgling.” Simon frowned, never having been too fond of being called that, especially when Raphael had used it to scold him. Dorian strode purposely towards him, slinging his arm around Simon’s shoulder and completely ignoring the way he went stiff under the other man’s hold. “The inquisitor thought we should know that you wouldn’t have the experience of a mediator the clave would normally send our way but considering how he spoke about you I don’t see it being that big of a deal, especially if you carry on the way you’ve been going,” he assured, clearly mistaking Simon’s look as him being confused as to how Dorian knew he was so inexperienced.
Simon didn’t know what to say to the other man. He had been shocked at how certain Alec had been of his capabilities, not quite believing the words that had come out of the other man’s mouth but to hear that he had also been telling others that he thought Simon was capable of this had a strange felling swirling in his gut. It was a mix of pride and nerves, Simon wanting to live up to the faith Alec seemed to have in him whilst being almost one hundred percent sure that it just wasn’t going to happen. Simon didn’t cope well under pressure and he could feel it already starting to mount on top of him, pressing down on him and causing his anxiety to sky rocket. He had been so confident yesterday morning but a lot had happened in the last twenty four hours and now he wasn’t so sure he had any right to be here.
“And you don’t care, about the age thing?” he rushed out, gesturing vaguely towards himself. “No,” Dorian scoffed, letting his arm fall off Simon’s shoulders as he stepped around to his other side. “The majority of the clan leaders are a couple of hundred years old and they all act like twats so you’ll probably be the maturest one there apart from Elizabeth.” Simon hummed, nodding his head slightly. He still didn’t think he deserved the faith Alec or Dorian had placed in him but he would try and live up to their expectations, even if it took him the better part of a decade to accomplish anything.
“Now that’s all over with, shall we get cracking or do you want me to stroke your ego some more,” Dorian smirked, wiggling both his eyebrows at Simon even as he scowled at him. He didn’t need anything stroked and most definitely not his ego. It wasn’t Simon’s fault that he was nervous and not used to any shadowhunter being that confident in him outside of Clary. Without a word Simon slipped into the chair nearest him, pulling his bag onto his lap and started to pull out his folder and note pad. He did have his laptop but Dorian had told him that Elizabeth was kind of old fashioned and she would appreciate the use of pen and paper more than the constant clacking of his laptop keys. So Simon had done everything twice, writing all his notes out by hand and making sure his handwriting was the neatest it had ever been, only to type it all up on his laptop afterwards. It would make it easier to send to Alec and keep him updated on any progress he might make whilst here.
“So what do you know about the London clans?” Dorian asked as he unravelled the large scroll across the table top, Simon having to quickly snatch up his half full glass so he didn’t end up with blood all over his meticulously written out notes. “Enough,” Simon said tersely, placing his glass on the other side of his papers. “Izzy gave me access to the institute library before I came over so I knew what I was walking into.” Simon didn’t look up as he spoke, quickly sorting through his file in search of the notes from their last phone call. When the silence stretched on Simon looked up, frowning in confusion. There was an empty chair between him and Dorian, the shadowhunter bracing himself on the table with both hands and looking at Simon expectantly. “What?” Dorian’s eyes flickered over Simon before he huffed in amusement, a smirk curling up the corners of his lips. “I didn’t realise you and Miss Lightwood were so close.” Simon narrowed his eyes at the other man, “we’re friends.” The words rolled easily off his tongue, feeling a lot less hollow then they had a year ago. They were friends, good friends and that was it. Even if he did know what she looked like naked and that she had this really sensitive spot right at the bottom of her deflection rune that always got her gasping when he dragged blunt teeth over it, sucking gently at the mark.
“Never said you weren’t,” Dorian said smugly, his eyes firmly fixed on the map he had rolled out across the table. Simon huffed, not really in the mood for whatever it was Dorian was attempting to get going between the two of them. “Is this a map of the territories?” Simon’s eyes darted across the map, taking in the thick lines that divided London into five distinct areas. “Sure is. You read about the clan massacre in that library time of yours?” Dorian darted his eyes across to Simon, his little half smirk he had been supporting this whole time now gone, a seriousness settling across his angular features. “I, yeah, I read about that.” It had been a blood bath and sure the clan had been out of control, killing mundanes for the fun of it but it had been kind of harrowing to read all the same, Simon not having be prepared for it when he had started looking into the London vampire population. It wasn’t surprising that the vampires of the city didn’t want anything to do with the clave after that. Even if none of them had been there for it the memory still remained and the vampires were weary if not outright hostile to the idea of letting shadowhunters amongst their ranks. “Fantastic, saves me explaining that shit show. Now listen up twilight because things are about to get complicated.” Simon eyes widened in surprise that Dorian knew what that even was but it quickly slipped into a scowl. He didn’t appreciate the sudden nickname but he wasn’t in the mood to argue about it so he chose to just ignore the man instead, clicking his pen and getting ready to take notes when needed.
That’s how he spent the next three hours, Dorian explaining the current clan system and how London was divided as well as recent issues between the clans themselves as well as with the shadowhunters. It wasn’t too complicated to follow, Simon already having known some of the things the other man was telling him. After the massacre the clan had been non-existent for a while, the vampires of London in utter chaos until one man had stepped forward and began to build it back up, separating out the city into five wards with their own clans that answered directly to him.
He was simply known as Bo and try as he might Simon hadn’t been able to find anything out about the man apart from he was old, like Viking old and was insanely rich and reclusive. He had only been seen a handful of times in the last fifty years and most believed he had gone back to his native Norway, leaving his most trusted lieutenant in command. Simon had managed to find a fair bit on Elizabeth though, the women having been turned unwillingly at the beginning of the Victorian era though she hadn’t seemed to let that slow her down, carving her place into the world with a resolve as strong as steel. She was a force to be reckoned with, what with overseeing the London clans and also being the head of their own police like force, making sure all vampires who set foot in their territory abided by the rules and dealing swiftly with those that didn’t. The threat of her was probably the only reason the shadowhunter hadn’t had his throat ripped out the night before, the vampires too terrified of what she might do to them if they attacked someone.
Simon’s confidence grew as time passed and he began to realise exactly how much he had already known coming into this. He felt calmer, prepared even as he and Dorian went over his notes, discussing what he thought would be the biggest issues going forward and how he thought they should be handled. From talking to Elizabeth he knew that the vampires though that the shadowhunters just wouldn’t care about them if they accompanied them on hunts, leaving them to their fates and potentially gruesome deaths if anything were to go wrong. Well that and they didn’t trust them not to just stake them for simply being vampires.
Simon wished he could ease their worries in that but considering how some of the shadowhunters had been acting he wasn’t too sure that their concerns weren’t justified. There was a tension centuries old that underlined every interaction between the clans and enclave and if something wasn’t done soon it could spark into a full blown war between the two. All it would take is one shadowhunter running his mouth and a vampire lashing out in anger. And if it happened here it would spread, other clans coming to their aid and then the whole alliance would fall apart.
Alec had gone a long way in mending the relationship between shadowhunters and downworlders but Simon knew first-hand how bigoted people could be. He had seen it himself, had seen the way people had looked at him, the vampire that had no place standing shoulder to shoulder with shadowhunters. More so at the beginning but he still got the occasional comment, someone calling him a monster, a parasite, something that needed to be exterminated like he was nothing more than a roach, his kind an infestation on the earth. He had been lucky with Alec and Izzy, even though Alec hadn’t exactly been too fond of him at the begging but then he hadn’t really cared for Simon whilst he had still been human so he didn’t think his feelings had anything to do with the sudden bout of vampirism.
Even Jace hadn’t really cared, had even offered up his precious angel rich blood to save Simon’s life, though he suffered no delusions with that, knowing full well he had only done it for Clary’s sake. Jace had never seen him as anything less because of what he was even when Simon had, terrified of himself and what he was capable of. He had treated him exactly the same as he had when Simon had been a mundane, the two of them snapping at one another as they fought over the love of the same women. Not that that had worked out for either of them, a Clary shaped hole in both their lives that neither of them could seem to shake. He had thought, for a while at least, that the friendship he and Jace had developed would go a long way to help filling that hole. He knew he could never replace the redhead, she meant to much to both of them for that but he had believed that together they had moved on, built something from the ashes that had meant something. Funny how that was what the ruins of their friendship now felt like, like ash in his mouth and smoke in his lungs.
“Is that where you was bitten?” Blinking Simon turned his head towards Dorian. At some point he had sunk into the chair next to Simon, one leg stretched out under the table and the other drapes over the arm of the chair. He had an arm slung over the back of the chair, his other arm resting on the table and his hand curled around a steaming cup of coffee. He was staring intently at Simon, his aqua eyes unwavering and full of curiosity. “Huh?” Simon had no clue what he was on about, having been too lost in his own mind to really be paying any sort of attention. Dorian lifted his hand that was resting on the back of his chair, gesturing at Simon before letting it fall back to its original resting place. “Your neck. You keep touching it and I was wondering if that was where you got bit.”
It was in that moment that Simon became hyper aware of his hand resting on his collar bone, his fingers gently rubbing at the spot above his collar where Jace had bitten him the night before. “Yeah,” he mumbled. That wasn’t true, not in the slightest, at least not in the way Dorian meant. Camille had bitten him on the other side of his neck, the memory of her fangs sinking in still fresh in his mind though what had happened with Jace last night was rather successfully pushing it aside and taking over. Moving his hand away from the pulsing spot Simon snatched his glass of blood up off the table, just to have something in his hand so it couldn’t go back to his neck.
When he had woken up that morning all the marks that Jace had left littered across his neck and jaw had been gone, his skin perfectly unblemished as if the night before had never happened. He would have been okay with that, happy for it have been nothing but a dream twisted into a nightmare except Simon could still feel them, his skin seeming to throb every place Jace had sucked and nipped at but none more so than where he had bitten Simon, sinking his teeth in like he was the vampire looking for his neck meal. He couldn’t stop touching it, prodding and poking at the spot like he was expecting to still be able to feel the bumps and divots of Jace’s teeth and with every touch came the flood of memories that threatened to drag him under and swallow him whole.
“You were turned by Camille Belcourt right?” Dorian swung his leg off the arm of the chair as he spoke, leaning forward and resting his arms on his knees. “Yep,” Simon popped the p, lifting his glass and taking another long swallow of his blood. He didn’t need to ask how Dorian knew that. The vampire clans here operated under a registration system, Simon having to fill out forms about himself and his maker before he was even allowed into the city. It was almost like having to apply for a visa, the clans well within their right to refuse a visiting vampire sanctuary within their territories if they didn’t like the information provided. It didn’t surprise him that the shadowhunter would have looked at his application though it did surprise him that Elizabeth had allowed it considering what he was here for. Unless Alec was giving out more information on him then he had realized.
Dorian whistled, low and long as he slumped back into his chair. “That’s a whole lot of crazy to be related to.” Simon scoffed. That was an understatement if he ever heard one. “You have no idea.” The two of them fell into silence, Simon sipping at his blood whilst Dorian drank his coffee. It was a strangely comfortable silence, Simon not feeling the need to fill it like he normally would. He and Dorian had gotten along surprisingly well, even if Simon found him a little irritating but he knew his friends felt the same way about him sometimes so he wasn’t to bothers by it. He was nice though, professional and dedicated to his job but still coming off as easy going and friendly, cracking cheesy jokes along the way that had Simon laughing despite his nerves. Except he wasn’t nervous, not anymore, not really. Sure there was still that gentle underlying hum of worry, Simon concerned that he would let Alec down and in turn Dorian and the London institute as well but he felt as ready as he was ever going to be, armed with all the information he could get his hands on. Now all he had to do was follow Alec’s advice and stand his ground, refusing to let the clan leaders intimidate or bully him. Considering the things he had faced in the last couple of years that should be a piece of cake. In theory at least.
“Hot though,” Dorian said offhandedly, face blank as he stared at the empty fireplace. Simon choked on his mouthful of blood, coughing and spluttering as he looked across at the other man in disbelief. Before he could ask if Dorian was brain damaged the clock began to chime and the man was up and out of his chair in one quick movement, knocking the last of his coffee back. “Right, shall we get a move on then? It’ll take about an hour to get to The Averard, unless you wanna catch the tube that is but I thought you might enjoy the walk after being stuck in ‘ere. Plus the underground is full of weirdos this time of day and that’s just the mundies.” The words rushed out of him in one continuous breath, Dorian not even looking at Simon as he began to tidy away the various maps and documents they had spread across the table.
Quickly he scrambled to do the same, swiping the back of his hand across his mouth in an attempt to get rid of any blood, whilst gathering his notes together with the other hand. It’s only when he starts to put everything back into his bag that he noticed his phone and realized with a startling panic that in all his nervousness he had forgotten to text Izzy. He had his phone in his hands in the blink of an eyes, his chat with Izzy open before he takes note of the time. It’s seven o’clock, meaning he had been here for four hours and yet he had no angry texts, no missed calls and no annoyed warlock turning up to make sure he had gotten here with all his limbs intact.
Frowning Simon’s thumbs hovered above the keyboard, his finger tapping quickly against the side as he just stared at the screen. Maybe something had happened. Maybe the moment he had left the alarms had started going off as demons invaded the city and they were all fighting for their lives whilst he sat around drinking blood and laughing at bad jokes. They wouldn’t think to tell him, not till after at least and that was if they told him at all. He can’t help but remember last time something like this had happened, Simon turning up at the institute when Jace had failed to turn up at his for their planned move and pizza night, the blonde failing to answer any of his calls and texts either. When he had gotten there he found Izzy with a few scratches and bruises, nothing that an iratze couldn’t fix but Jace had been in the infirmary with a broken arm and a jagged a cut running diagonally across his chest.
Simon had been scared then, worried about the other man and it had come out in the form of a lengthy lecture about having back up and an angry “this is why you’re supposed to take me with you asshole.” Jace had answered with his usual indifference, brushing off his concerns easily, mocking Simon and his abilities in one breath and then in the next likening him to a fairy tale knight come to save the damsel in distress. Simon had called him the name of every Disney princess he could think for a week solid after that and referring to himself as Prince Charming just because he liked how adorable Jace looked when he was annoyed, with his brow furrowed and lips pursed. Maybe that was half the problem, Simon having grown up watching Disney moves and believing that love conquered all when the reality was as far from that as it could get.
“You ready?” Dorian called, already over by the door and holding it open, Simon’s suitcase next to him and the suit carrier slung over his shoulder. “Yeah.” Simon quickly sent Izzy a text, apologizing for its lateness and asking if everything was okay before shoving it back into his bag and following the other man back out into the corridor. He shrugged the uneasy thoughts off as best as he could, convincing himself that he was just over reacting and that they were fine. He had a tendency to over think things, even more so when his friends were involved and it would likely turn out to be something stupid like a werewolf with its head stuck in a fence again.
He followed Dorian through the maze of corridors, the man insisting he knew where he was going when Simon pointed out that they had already walked past the tapestry of an angry looking angel relieving a horned beast of its head. This time Simon paid attention to his surroundings, relaxed enough now that he didn’t feel like he was going to choke on his nerves. The place was vast, more so than he had realised when Izzy had been telling him about the place, with high ceilings that seemed to disappear into the gloom above, untouched by the low and warm lights that were dotted along the walls. Tapestries hung on the walls, depicting simple things like runes and weapons to more detailed scenes of battles, shadowhunters fighting downworlders and angels residing over it all. The place smelt old, hundreds of scents laying one over the other to give it that distinct lived in smell. Though there might not be as many shadowhunters here as there had used to be it still thrummed with the lives of the people that inhabited it, that distinct ozone smell of magic underlying it all and binding everything together.
Simon loved it.
It was like being at Hogwarts, Simon feeling way too much like Harry the first time he had walked through the halls, staring in wide eyed wonderment at everything they passed. Every open doorway they passed Simon looked in, his eyes darting around and trying to take everything in. He knew he would be back at some point, having to have meetings with Dorian and Dayton, maybe even Alec but it would never compare to the feeling he had now at seeing it all for the first time. He wanted to flit around at full speed, opening every door and discovering every secret but each time he went to move further into a room Dorian was there, fingers curling around his elbow and gently pulling him along, laughing gently at Simon’s obvious excitement. It wasn’t mocking or cruel, Dorian seeming to genuinely find his curiosity endearing and amusing, promising Simon there would be time for a proper tour next time even as Simon craned his neck to get a better look at the ops center as he was dragged out the doors and onto the darkening street beyond.
The walk to The Averard did not seem to take an hour, Dorian striding forward with purpose and weaving effortlessly through the early evening crowds whilst dragging Simon’s suitcase along behind him. He spoke nearly the whole way there, pointing out places of interest for both mundanes and downworlders, acting as an impromptu tour guide. It was a lot to take in Simon torn between paying attention to the shadowhunter and taking in the sights. He promised to take Simon back to the devil tavern, gave him vague directions to the British museum and insisted that they go shopping at some point along Oxford Street even as he pulled Simon down it, avoiding the dense crowd of people doing just that.
The closer they got to Hyde Park though the quieter it got, Dorian finally falling silent as they followed the edge of the park, the metal fence and hedge on one side and the still busy road on the other. The sound of traffic faded as they headed down a side street, Dorian not even looking as he stepped out into the road and Simon’s suitcase narrowly missing the front bumper of a black cab. The buildings here were older, towering above them and even though the street was wide it still felt like they were curling in on him, the dark windows glaring down at him.
“Aaand we’re here,” Dorian exclaimed, coming to a sudden stop on the street corner and gesturing up at the building next to them like he was presenting some sort of amazing artefact. Simon came to a stop in front of him, glancing up at the large building with curiosity. It was rather impressive, Simon could admit that, with its floor to ceiling windows and carved decretive details, not to mention the fact it towered above them, Simon not even able to see too top of the multi floored building from where he stood. All the windows were blacked out, making them stand out against the stark white brick, no sign of life coming from beyond the darkness. There was nothing special about the building, nothing that would suggest the large building in front of him was anything but derelict and empty. A forgotten relic of a time long since pasted.
“Here?” Simon questioned in disbelief, raising an eyebrow at the other man. Dorian smiled widely, stepping up to Simon’s side and slinging his arm around his shoulders. “You shouldn’t be so quick to judge. I assure you that the place is teaming with a whole host of blood sucking undead who are just dying to devour you.” Simon frowned up at the smiling man, letting his annoyance show. “Vampires don’t drink from other vampires,” Simon huffed. At least he didn’t think they did. He had never heard of it and the idea really wasn’t all that appealing. Blood was about life, sustenance and considering vampires were dead he didn’t think you would be able to get either of those from the blood of a vampire.
Dorian’s smile turned wicked, a mischievous glint in his teal eyes. “Who said anything about drinking blood?” He winked at Simon who in turn looked up at him with his mouth open slightly and brows furrowed, his words getting stuck in his throat. Dorian laughed at Simon’s stunned silence. The man laughed a lot, smiled to, giving off the air of someone carefree with a lust for life that most shadowhunters lacked. Uncurling his arm from around Simon Dorian gripped his elbow once more and pulled his forwards. Simon stumbled up the stone steps, his concern about what he would find on the other side of the door growing after Dorian’s comment, expecting to find some rundown and grungy looking bleeder den inside that maybe doubled as a brothel.
Dorian shouldered the heavy looking door open, that to painted white with a long window set in the stone above it. It’s there that Simon sees it, the name of the hotel set in the glass in elegant gold print, the quickly fading light glinting off of it and almost making it look like it’s sparkling. It’s situated in a way that you would only be able to see it once you were up the steps and already by the door, subtle enough to be missed by mundanes but still visible enough to let visiting vampires know they were in the right place. Before Simon can really appreciate the craftsmanship of the intricate lettering the door was swinging open and Dorian was pulling him inside, shutting it firmly behind them with a loud thunk.
Darkness greets them.
Simon’s eyes adjust quickly to the dark, blinking a couple of times in quick succession until he could see clearer, except there wasn’t really anything to see. The darkness clings to everything making it impossible to really see anything other than the box of light on the floor with the hotels name cast in shadows on the stone floor. He thinks it’s a corridor, abele to see that the walls are close but he can’t see anything towards the end, the blackness just getting thicker and darker like it had sucked all the light from the space. He can smell magic in the air though, can practically taste it but it doesn’t make him feel any less uneasy at the sudden lack of everything.
“Come on,” Dorian mumbled nudging Simon’s shoulder with his own as he strode forward, seemingly unbothered by the darkness. There’s no sound, not his footsteps on the stone, nor the annoying sound of his suitcases wheels rolling along, not even the dulled sound of traffic from outside. It’s jarring, Simon feeling like he had been dunked into a sensory deprivation tank but he still follows after Dorian, trusting the man even as he disappears into the darkness. Sucking in a deep breath, Simon adjusted the strap of his bag and stepped forward, following after the shadowhunter and letting the darkness consume him.
It’s bright when he steps out, Simon slamming his eyes closed against the sudden influx of light. He can hear the gentle mummer of conversation, the distinct sound of people moving around accompanying it. After the corridor it’s all a little much, flooding Simon’s senses and he winced at the slight pain that flashes through his head. “Hey, you’re good. Just take a minute, let it all sink in.” Dorian’s voice is soft and calming as he speaks, placing his hand on Simon’s shoulder and squeezing softly. Simon darts his own hand out, curling his fingers around the other man’s bicep in an attempt to ground himself. He pulls in one deep breath after another, focusing on Dorian’s slow and steady heartbeat until he finally calms down and he can open his eyes again, blinking a few times in quick succession to adjust properly to the light. He’s smiling apologetically down at him, his bright eyes strangely dim. “Sorry. I should have warned you abou’ that.”
“Its fine,” Simon mumbled, squeezing at the other man’s arm in what he hopes is a reassuring manner and not like he’s trying to feel the guy up but, damn they are some solid muscles. Simon quickly snatched his hand back and shuffled backwards slightly so he is out of the other man’s reach. Dorian cocks his head to the side slightly, brows furrowed in confusion and Simon pointedly looks away, once again thankful he can’t blush any more. Realization flickers through his aqua eyes, a wide grin stretching across his face and he’s laughing again, all traces of his previous worry gone. “Next time just ask mate, no need to swoon when you wanna cop a feel.” Simon huffed crossing his arms over his chest. “I wasn’t swooning,” Simon denied, scowling at Dorian and fighting the urge to stamp his foot like a child. “Sure you weren’t,” Dorian teased, winking at Simon. Huffing he turned away from the other man, letting his eyes dart around the room he now found himself in, shocked at what he saw.
The floor was made of polished stone tiles, the walls lined with dark wood paneling that went all the way up to the tops of the door frames. The walls above were painted a deep forest green that gave way into more dark paneling, the ceiling lined in that same highly decorative panels only for the middle of the ceiling to be painted that same forest green as the walls. By all rights it should be dark and oppressive but the large chandelier above flooded the room with light, the circle of large round bulbs filling the space with a warm yellow glow.
There was a rather grand looking staircase to his left, the steps polished white marble with a deep green carpet running up the middle, brass pipes pressed into the bottom of every step to keep it in place. The banister was carved from the same kind of wood as all the paneling, the thing looking freshly polished and gleaming in the light, the spindles brass with intricate ivy leafs curling between every other one. There were large palms in brass pots at the bottom of the steps, the green leaves standing out against the dark wood, other potted plants and lamps dotted around the lobby that kept the oppressive darkness away.
When Simon had been told the vampires would be putting him up for his stay he had assumed it would be much like the Dumort, as in it was a hotel only in name and was just the place where the clan lived but as his eyes landed on what looked like a check in desk, a cabinet of old looking keys behind it Simon was forced to reconsider that assumption. It was a hotel, a real life vampire hotel and Simon didn’t know whether he should be excited about how amazing that sounded or be slightly worried about the fact that meant a lot of vampires came and went often enough to warrant such a place.
In front of him was a large doorway that lead through to what looked like a lounge area. The flooring from the lobby giving way to deep green carpet that matched that on the stairs. The wood paneling continued through the room though it only came up to about waist height, the rest of the walls painted the same green as the lobby and the coving on the ceiling simpler in design. The room was scattered with wooden tables, plush leather sofas and chairs. He could see a few people already in there, some alone and engrossed in their papers as they sipped what Simon assumed was blood from various cups and glasses, whilst others had paired off or gathered in groups, talking freely. Beyond that he could see another doorway a glass panel set in the top with the word ‘Restaurant’ scrawled across it in gold. He couldn’t understand why vampires would need a restaurant unless it was just something left over from the buildings previous purpose but Simon could swear he could smell the swirling mess of things cooking in the air that would suggest otherwise.
His first thought was to take a photo and send it to Jace, ask the blonde if he thought it was an all you could eat buffet or a la carte. Would the different blood types be laid out like a wine list, each one with its own description that likened them to fruits and nuts and everything else in between? He quickly puts a stop to that though, forcing even the slightest idea of the other man away. He really doesn’t want anything to do with Jace. Not right now anyway.
In the handful of seconds Simon had spent taking in his surroundings Dorian had already started to make his way over to the desk, Simon trailing after him and still glancing around the impressive room. The check in desk is more like a counter, coming up to just above Dorian’s navel and blocking off a small section of space, the thing carved from the same dark wood as everything else and a stylized ‘A’ carved on the front, surrounded with an ornate circular leaf design. Simon wants to say its mahogany but honestly he has no clue what it is, that’s just the only dark type of wood he knows the name off. Behind the counter was a doorway that seemed to lead into an office area but what caught Simon’s attention was the large cabinet on the wall, four rows of seven brass hooks lining the inside and nearly every single one of them had a large and old looking ornate key hanging from it that looked like they weighed more than the contents of Simon’s satchel put together.
Dorian leant casually against the counter, beaming at Simon as he tapped the small bell that sat on the side. The bell chimed, seeming to echo around the room and Simon couldn’t look away, transfixed as the little brass dome vibrated, carrying on the gentle ringing until it became a continuous humming in Simon’s ears. It invaded his senses, filling his head to the point he thought he would never hear another sound again, would never be able to look away and be stuck in this endless moment for the rest of his days.
A pail hand appeared, pressing down on the bell and stopping the ringing. Simon jerked back, snapping out of his trance like he had been slapped. The air smelt like magic, thick with electricity and when Simon managed to drag his gaze up he was met with a whole lot of blue.
It was a women, incredibly striking with her slightly flushed skin and large, electric blue eyes. She was dressed in a white blouse, a black waistcoat overtop with a brass nameplate pined on over her left breast but that was where the traditional ended. She had a face full of metal with a loop over her plump bottom lip and a nose ring hanging from her septum as well as two bars through her right eyebrow. Her hair was shaved short on the sides with a short mohawk running down the middle of her head but it was the dye job that really held Simon’s attention, the sides and bottom of the mohawk electric blue though it faded into a blue/green along the tips with her eyebrows dyed to match. Her lips were painted the same shade of electric blue of her eyes that seemed to spark with anger, glaring across the desk at Dorian like his very existence had personally offended her.
“What the hells you doing here?” she snapped, crossing her arms over her chest. “Harper!” Dorian exclaimed loudly, throwing his arms out wide and only just missing smacking Simon in the face. “Get out,” she deadpanned, eyes narrowing at the other man as the air cracked with magic, the tang of electricity heavy in the air. So she was a sorcerous, one that appeared to be extremely angry with Dorian for some reason. Simon had to wonder if maybe she was an ex. Dorian seemed like the type to leave a trail of angry lovers behind him, his carefree attitude probably not lending its self to anything other than casual though Simon wasn’t really one to judge. He hoped that none of his previous partners were angry with him though. He had always been sure to make sure they understood he wasn’t after anything other than a night or two of passion and they had all seemed to be on board with that but now he wasn’t so sure. Oh G-ah, what if he was the asshole leaving a trail of angry and jilted lovers behind him instead of marginally satisfied partners that were more than happy to go again at some later date?
Dorian laughed, though there was a slight nervous edge to it now and went back to leaning against the counter. Simon just watched on in weary confusion, his gaze darting between the two of them. “Harper,” Dorian smiled, “beautiful, talented, merciful Harper.” She huffed, posture relaxing as she lifted one blue/green eyebrow and looked at the shadowhunter expectantly. Dorian leaned both his elbows on the counter, pressing his palms together as if he was about to start praying, the tips of his fingers just resting against his bottom lip. He wasn’t smiling anymore, looking across at Harper seriously. He pulled in a deep breath, holding it for a few seconds before letting it go, tipping his hands towards Harper. “Please?” he whined.
Harper scowled at him, unfolding her arms to point at the door behind them. “Out. Now,” she snarled, blue lightening crackling between her fingers. Simon was legitimately scared that she was going to use her magic to throw Dorian out if he didn’t leave but the other man didn’t seem to care, rolling his eyes at her demand. “Oh come on. It’s just the lobby and any way it’s not like I’m not going to be here for the meetings anyway,” Dorian said indignantly, crossing his arms over his chest and pouting like a sulking child. Harper let her arm fall, bracing herself on the counter as she leant forward across the desk slightly. She looked livid, like she was seconds away from punching Dorian and Simon tensed, ready to dart forward and yank the man out of harm’s way if that should happen. He had no clue what was going on between the two of them but Simon liked the shadowhunter enough not to want to see his pretty face get smashed in. “You were told that unless it was for official business you weren’t to step foot in this building.”
“This is official business!” Dorian exclaimed, gesturing towards Simon and Harper’s eyes snapped over to him, seemingly only just noticing him. “Someone had to make sure the guy got here without getting lost or mugged.” Something about having both of their attention on him seemed to jar Simon out of his confused daze, Harper’s words finally registering along with a growing feeling of dread. Oh. Oh no. Dorian wasn’t supposed to be here, didn’t have permission to be in vampire territory and Simon had just allowed him in like it didn’t matter even though he knew vampires didn’t like shadowhunters invading their space, the fact that the New York clan wouldn’t let any shadowhunter passed the front door without permission from the clan leader not even registering.
Dorian hadn’t said anything though, had just strolled on in like he had done it a hundred times before, confident and apparently uncaring of any consequences he may face by being there, like the effect it could have on the job Simon was here to do. Why would the vampires ever trust the shadowhunters if they couldn’t even follow a simple request not to enter their territory unless given explicit permission from the clan’s head, something Dorian seemed to be lacking if Harper’s harsh words were anything to go by.
“What the hell Dorian?” Simon hissed angrily, taking a step forward in to the man’s personal space and shoving at his shoulder. Dorian winced slightly at Simon’s angry outburst, Harper smiling smugly behind him and crossing her arms over her chest again. “Look,” Dorian started, turning to fully face Simon who had adopted the same pose as Harper, glaring at the other man as he waited for some kind of explanation. “Elizabeth may have said-” Harper scoffed, Dorian shooting her a glair over his shoulder, “that she didn’t want me in the hotel unless I had been formally invited or for official shadowhunter business.” Simon groaned, eyes closing and head tipping backwards as his arms fell to his side. Brilliant, he hadn’t even been in the building five minutes and already he was breaking rules that he didn’t even know had existed in the first place.
“And yet here you are.” Simon’s eyes snapped open, his head jerking up and round at the cold and unimpressed voice. At the top of the sweeping staircase stood one Elizabeth Blackheart, the current acting head of the London clans and though Simon had known what she looked like he hadn’t been quite prepared to see her in the flesh. She was stunning, tall and slender with porcelain skin that was pale even for a vampire, like she hadn’t spent a day in the sun even when she had still been alive. She had one hand curled around the dark banister, her nails long and sharp, painted a dark red that looked like she had dipped them in blood. Her long black hair tumbled over her shoulders and down her back in large and lose glossy curls, not a single hair out of place.
She commanded attention, respect and the majority of that came down to the way she held herself, back perfectly straight and head held high, looking down her straight nose at them like the lady of the manor looking at her servants. Some of it though came from the way she was dressed, smart and distinctive in deep red tailored trousers that ended at her ankles, her black pointed heels polished to the point Simon w
