Thank you for your kind reviews. I appreciate and adore them, greatly.
...
Does anybody talk like that in real life? That were, you know, born in the late twentieth and the twenty-first century?
Clary
The Hangover? God, he's such a guy.
Still, despite her distaste for the movie ever since she saw the trailer, Clary found herself leaning against Jace, she was laughing so hard.
"Oh, damn," she giggled. "Moron. 'They gave out rings in the Holocaust'?" She snickered.
Jace stopped laughing. "So...They didn't?"
Clary looked over at him; His face was confused and slightly embarassed. Aw, cute. No, not cute. Step-brother. "No, Jace," she sighed. "They didn't."
He frowned. "Huh. Wonder why he would think that, then..." He turned back to the screen.
She rolled her eyes, and tossed a handful of popcorn into her mouth. Honestly. She would have to ask Isabelle to make sure Jace didn't fall asleep in history anymore. Or her brother, Alec. Though he might take to much pleasure in stabbing Jace with a pencil every ten minutes...
Clary felt herself involuntarily stiffen when she felt Jace shift next to her on the couch, and dropped his head lightly down onto her lap. "Mmm..." He nuzzled his face into her abdomen. "You're so soft. And warm." His voice was low, and his arms snaked around her waist, pressing himself tighter against her.
Clary swallowed, and looked down at him. "Uh, the TV's in the other direction, Jace."
He mumbled something, causing her stomach to vibrate and tickle a bit. "Don't care," he muttered. "'M tired."
"Already?" Clary sighed. "God, you've hardly changed at all, have you?" It was so like Jace; Not once, whether on a date or just watching plain old TV, he'd fall asleep during the show or movie.
Jace chuckled, before going still.
Clary finished the movie, and when she noticed Jace's deep breathing slow, she began running her fingers through his curls, amazed by how silky and soft the strands were. I will not be jealous, she tried to convinced herself. I will not be jealous of his awesome hair.
She sighed, and reached over to an armchair that Jocelyn always sat in when she was actually home, and tucked it around Jace's sleeping body, before turning off the television and hunkering down so that she was snuggled up with Jace, trying to ignore how warm his chest felt against hers, and how even though he was sleeping, she felt like he was watching her.
Oh, God. I've missed him.
"Wake up..." An amused voice hovered right above her ear, and Clary wanted to smack the amusement off of the speaker, but didn't feel like getting up to do so.
"Claaarryy," his voice was softer, and she felt goosebumps break out across her skin when she actually felt soft lips brush along the lobe of her ear. Surely he didn't-
"C'mon." She felt a hand pull at a strand of her hair, and he sounded whiny. "I'm bored and hungry."
Clary groaned and turned over, landing on a solid chest.
A bare chest, to be exact.
WHAT?
Clary squeaked and opened her eyes, sitting up.
...Which only made her so that she was straddling a snickering Jace.
"You jerk!" She slapped his chest-When had it come off?-and crossed her arms, fighting the urge to pout. "It's Saturday," she grumbled, laying back down, but keeping her hands under her head as she did so. "Let me sleep."
Jace pushed her back up, and grinned wickedly. "But I like this view so much better," he simpered, his eyes not-so-subtly lingering on her breasts, which were very nearly hanging out of her too-big tee that had gotten pulled down when she'd been asleep.
"Perv." Clary turned bright red and hastily covered herself with her thin arms.
Jace reluctantly pulled his eyes away from her crossed arms, and up to her face.
Crap. Clary felt her stomach turn; Why the hell does he have to look so good in the morning? His messy hair was even curlier than usual, his normally wide eyes were heavy-lidded. At least there's no "wood", this morning.
"But I'm hungry," Jace said, and ran his hands up her sides. As much as Clary tried to think of his gesture as innocent and brotherly, she had to fight off the shiver of his hands touching her. "And I don't know how to cook."
Clary hummed and crawled off him. "Easy: Get a bowl, box of Cheerio's, pour in some milk. A seven-year-old can do that."
Jace shot her a horrified look. "Cereal?" He demanded, looking at her as if he were experiencing physical pain. "You're killing me, woman."
Clary rolled her eyes. "God, you're such a drama queen." She patted down her hair. "Get Amatis to cook for you."
Jace rolled so that he was sitting up, and gave her the same crooked grin he always used when he knew he was about to get his way. "But your cooking's so much better," he said, his voice soft and childish. Jace ducked his head slightly, looking up at her through the long, thick eyelashes that casted shadows across his cheekbones. He wasn't playing fair.
She scowled, and he grinned widely, already knowing he'd won. Already. "Fine," she grumbled. "Ass."
Jace jumped off the couch and kissed her sweetly on the cheek. "Thanks, Clary." With a lingering hair ruffle, Jace walked out of the room. "Wake me up when breakfast is ready!" He called over his shoulder.
Clary was too shocked to be angry; Her hand was pressed to her cheek, her eyes wide and surprised.
Step-brother. He was being playful when he kissed you.
Bad thoughts.
Step-brother.
He's my step-brother.
"Is that bacon I smell?" Jace walked in the kitchen, his amber eyes round. "Please tell me that's bacon."
Clary rolled her eyes. "Yes, Jace. It's bacon."
He whooped, and took thirteen of her fifteen strips of bacon.
That douchebag.
Clary glared at him, but he ignored her, and opened his arms. "Sit on my lap?" He asked, as if he hadn't just stolen the majority of her breakfast.
How could she say no to that face? Clary scolded herself for giving in so easily, but when she perched herself on Jace's lap, one arm wrapping around her waist as he fed himself with the other, she decided that giving in had its perks.
"So," she nibbled on a strip of bacon, remembering how Sebastian had offered to take her to the country club. She'd rather just stay in with Jace. "What's on the agenda for today?"
Jace shoved a whole thing of bacon in his mouth, and shrugged. "I dunno. Swimming?"
Clary stiffened, and turned to scowl at him. "Not funny, Jace." He knew she didn't know how to swim, and that she was terrified of water. She used to be scared of taking a bath, until her mother agreed to let Jace sit next to the tub while she bathed. But that was more than ten years ago.
Jace pressed his cheek against hers. Huh. He sure was touchy-feely today, Clary noticed. Wonder why he's in such a good mood.
"I'm not trying to be funny," he said quietly. "And I want to make today a fun day. But don't you want to at least try to swim?"
"No." Clary tore at one of his bacon strips, having already eaten her two. "Why don't we go to the Lightwood's?"
Jace tightened his arm around her waist. "I want to spend the day with you," he said stubbornly.
Ignoring the jump in her chest at his declaration, Clary crossed her arms. "Then no swimming."
Jace groaned in exasperation. "Please, Clary?"
She shook her head. No. Water was the reason why she was fatherless until Jocelyn had remarried. Water was what had killed her father.
Jace picked her up.
Clary squawked, and started slapping at his arms. "What the hell, Jace? Put. Me. DOWN!"
He just laughed; Remembering how when they were younger, she was always begging for him to carry her around, and now she was trying to get him to drop her. Girls.
"Your punches feel like puppy kisses," he teased, lifting her higher up.
Clary scowled. "Where are you-" He'd walked out of their house, and tossed her into the car. Sliding in, he peeled out of their driveway, trying to drive in a straight line.
...Which was hard when you had a teenage girl on your lap, slapping you.
"Jesus, Clary!" He struggled to see where the hell he was going, through the hand that was pressed tightly against his face. "Get off me before I crash!"
She huffed and fell back into the passenger's seat, and buckled up. "I cannot believe you're making me do this," she mumbled. "I'm in my pajama's, for crying out loud!"
Jace smirked. "Believe me, you won't be wearing your pajama's for this."
Ignoring the innuendo behind his comment, Clary glanced at the backseat. A bathing suit, probably her size, laying on the leather seats.
She looked at what Jace was wearing; A blact T-shirt and black swim shorts.
"You planned this?"
Jace didn't even have the grace to look ashamed. "Well, yeah." He looked over at her. "It isn't like you were ready to jump at the opportunity of going swimming."
Clary scowled at him, and yanked away her hand, which he'd taken in her own. "Congratulations, asshole! Had it not occured to you that I don't want to go swimming?"
"I do recall you yelling something along those lines, yes."
Clary slumped in her seat. It was obvious he wasn't going to be giving up anytime soon.
"Hey, Clary." Jace sighed. "I'm sorry."
Too late for that, now, Clary thought, bitterly.
"Will you get in the pool if I promise to hold you the whole time?"
Clary looked over at him; He was staring at her intently, waiting for her answer.
She bit her lip, and nodded. "Yeah," she whispered. "Only if you promise not to let go of me."
Jace grinned, kind of. "Pinky promise." He held out his right pinky, keeping his left hand on the wheel.
Clary grinned back, and linked her pinky with his, a sense of familiarity shooting through her. "I'm holding that against you," she warned, but she was joking.
She trusted him.
Aw, dammit.
Step-brother.
Step-brother.
Yeah, that was kinda just pure fluff. :P
Coming up: Will have a half-naked Jace in the pool! *squeals*
And Clary too, of course. *coughs innocently*
Review...;)