The Rotten Ones

I have a lot of deep, dark secrets. Like the time I broke Jace's MP3 player and blamed it on Max, or the time I warmed a sock in the dryer just to, uh, "churn my own butter" with. One of the deepest, darkest secrets is definitely my love of bad boys. It's ridiculous, insane. It's something I would never share with anyone. When I see a guy who looks like he's spent a couple nights in jail... Ugh, take me now.

Though here is where I should probably note that I was a 150% virgin when Isabelle brought me to the nightclub. I'd never even kissed a GIRL, let alone slept with a MAN.

"Oh he's cute," said Isabelle.

My face went red immediately. Talking about guys with your sister is completely uncomfortable, especially when you know she's trying to set you up. I knew Isabelle wanted to get me to hook up with someone, but she assumed I wanted skinny, short and clean cut. She was looking at some guy with a faux-hawk and horn rimmed glasses, dancing with a a mix of beautiful girls and drag queens. I smiled at Isabelle and then shrugged. She pointed at him and made a shooing motion. The club was packed, hot and sweaty. I played with the sleeve of my giant wholly sweater and pretended not to see her hand. I couldn't just walk over to him! And even if I could, I wouldn't want to. He was cute, sure. But he wasn't rotten.

I fucking loved the rotten ones.

Isabelle disappeared. One moment she was trying to convey something to me with hand signals and the next she was gone. I strained to see her for a couple of moments and then suddenly she was back again, only with Ray Bans. He was blatantly checking me out and smiling. I smiled back.

An awkward conversation ensued. He was from Michigan and thought New Yorker's were oh so sexy. He wanted to be a writer and was interning at a shelter for gay youth. Isabelle was gone again and I was trying to explain my job in "law enforcement" without saying "I fight demons for a living". Though maybe if I would have said that he would have left me alone. Instead he stayed latched to my side, buying me more and more drinks.

One of the drag queens came over, make-up completely smeared, rambling in half-character hysterics. Ray-Bans had to go. He wrote his number on a napkin and caught me off guard with a quick closed lip kiss on the cheek. His mouth was cold and we both smelled like liquor. I watched him disappear into the crowd and waited with a frown for Isabelle to find me.

"Was that your boyfriend?" The voice was smooth and close. There was a guy sitting in Ray-Bans chair. No, not a guy. A MAN. A sexy, bad man. He had a leather jacket with studs in it. That's all that really needs to be said. His hair was spiked and he had so many earrings all the way up the cartilage that I couldn't count them. There was another stud in his lip and his eyebrow. His eyes were huge, green-gold, and slit down the center like a cats, ringed in black.

A downworlder.

God help me.

"No!" I all but shouted. "Oh, no. Not at all. Not even a little bit. I don't even know his name. Zero recognition." And then I giggled nervously and looked down at his ripped plaid jeans.

The downworlder forced my chin up. He had so many chunky rings on his fingers, some of them connected by little chains. "You're cute. Wanna get out of here?"

Honestly, I didn't know. Hot guys never actually talked to me. I nodded eagerly. He took my hand and put it over his shoulder and then lead me towards a back door. Isabelle was no where to be seen and I was fairly glad about that. The downworlder snapped his fingers and the back door flung open. He looked back at me and was immediately puzzled when I wasn't surprised. He must have spotted the edge of a rune on my throat because his eyebrows shot through the roof. He let go of my hand and stepped back.

"Whoa, this isn't a sting, is it?" he asked. It was quieter in the back of the building.

I shook my head and stumbled forward. "I'm drunk and gay. Forget about it." The words flew out and I started to giggle again.

The warlock smiled, but it was different from before. "Okay, I know just what you need." He took my head and led me out into the alleyway.

o-O-o

Fifteen minutes later I was sitting in a little 24/7 diner with Magnus, staring into a cup of coffee that was slowly bringing me back to rationality. The downworlder had his head rested on his hand and was stirring his tea with a blue spark and an absent finger.

"Is logic returning, little Shadowhunter?" he asked.

I nodded. "Yes," I groaned. "And my name is Alec."

He smiled that same smile from the back of the club. "I'm Magnus." He reached forward and drifted his fingers over my knuckles. My eyelashes lowered. "Don't look like that," he said. "It's making me regret my decision to not take advantage of you."

A decision which I was only half grateful for. "Maybe... we could go on a date?" I suggested. "I mean, to uh make up for you not getting to... you know. Do that."

He snorted. "Sure. I'd love to."

And that was how we met.

END