Disclaimer: I do not own any of these characters.
Dedication: To Les. SORRY I'M SO LATE. Merry belated Christmas/birthday. I'll get your second one up soon. Hopefully.
Summary: In which Jace and Will become each other's wingman and Jem wonders if his death could come soon. (Jem/Will)
Notes: Yeahhh, this didn't come out the way I wanted it to. Haven't written in a while.
He said he came from across the way; the manner in which he said toilet instead of loo pointed to New York while the direction of his gesticulations intended something along the lines of Cairo.
Either way, Jem couldn't quite recall why the strange Shadowhunter had used the word toilet. This boy didn't look like the type whoever asked where things were. It wasn't because he knew where things were and it wasn't out of some bizarre predilection towards getting lost into an adventure. He just kind of slouched and walked around like he owned the bloody place.
Anyway.
He had to skirt a puddle of something, nose wrinkling, in order to rest his elbow on the bar with his chin in hand. Will always had the ability to choose the best places in order to get utterly blitzed.
His new friend wasn't helping either.
"You know, as much as I love another person's misery – it makes me look even better in comparison, see - you are bringing down me down. You know what they say - gotta build a bridge over that girl, cry her a river, and get over her." He jerked his head towards Jem, who blinked, a little bemused. "Your… mate there doesn't seem to have a problem."
Will muttered something, slumping over the counter and prodding a few shot glasses, looking kind of dazed.
"You see, man, you need to find yourself a new girl – I'd be your wingman, but I'm pretty sure you wouldn't get any girl then. You're so glum and I'm all this."
Jace waved at himself, from head to toe. His smirk
Unsurprisingly, Will raised his head, his eyes almost sparking, and Jem sighed, a bit relieved. Nothing like a challenge to get an ego moving, right?
Not that there'd be any room for other people in the bar if both egos presented themselves.
Jem began contemplating a hasty departure, parabatai be damned.
(Which wouldn't happen – he wouldn't abandon his partner to Jace's tender mercies, wherever the young man came from. His clothes were odd, even by Shadowhunter standards.)
"Oh, really?"
Will stood so that they were nose to nose.
"Really."
They glared at each other. Jem rubbed the bridge of his nose.
This could not end well.
As Jace and Will slinked off to different groups of people, leaning on women and gazing a wee bit low in that smoldering way that some girls love, Jem raised his hand for the bartender.
At least Tessa didn't fall for that.
Not really sure what was going on behind him – was it just him or were the voices getting louder and angrier? – he traced runes in the condensation of his fellows' abandoned glasses.
He smiled as the bartender pushed over the up of heavily iced wine. Jem glanced back towards where Will was trying to flirt with some werewolf girl and Jace was talking to some fae girl.
Their fellows didn't appear… pleased.
He sighed.
By the Angel, please don't let us be kicked out of here.
Jem didn't want to think about the destruction and bootlegging that would occur. Charlotte would probably be furious, to say the least, and Will would be somewhat impossible.
After all, what would he do if he were barred from entering the last establishment within the city limits?
In case anyone wanted to know, Jem so wasn't going to drag his sorry drunk ass back from Oxford.