This is set between City of Glass and City of Fallen Angels.

Dave idly scanned the diverse assortment of downworlders as he sipped his beer. The bar may have been primarily a werewolf hangout but it also attracted warlocks, fairies and, well, pretty much everything except vampires. Dave spotted a few of his fellow pack members scattered around the room, but most of them were otherwise occupied. Santana had disappeared into a corner with Brittany, who despite being part fey seemed to have inherited none of the cruelty or cunning that characterised her supernatural ancestors, and Blaine was staring dreamily at his warlock boyfriend, Kurt. Rachel was babbling on about something or other to Finn, whose expression was fairly blank but nonetheless content, and Puck was attempting to flirt with a very bemused looking fairy.

Suddenly, Dave became aware that people were turning to stare in the direction of the door, and when he followed their gaze he saw why. Striding through the entrance with supreme self-confidence was a boy with clearly visible black runes marked on his arms. The bar may have been frequented by a vast array of downworlders, but shadowhunters were a completely different story. Despite the recent events in Idris and the fact that council seats had now been granted to representatives for werewolves, vampires, fairies and warlocks, Ohio was a long way from Alicante and centuries of being treated like second class citizens at best, and creatures to be hunted at worst, wasn't going to be wiped out overnight. Here, most downworlders were still deeply mistrustful of shadowhunters. Dave had always heard that they were arrogant and self-righteous, and this particular demon killer's smug smirk did nothing to dispel that impression.

The Nephilim boy sauntered up to the bar and ordered a drink, paying no attention to the stares and whispers that were being directed his way. He casually slipped onto the empty barstool beside Dave's.

"What are you doing here?" Dave asked.

"I'm having a drink, obviously."

"There are plenty of other bars in this town where you'd be a lot less unwelcome."

"And all those bars are boring and filled with guys that are either unattractive or that I've already slept with. I'm looking for something new." The shadowhunter grinned as his eyes fell on the table where Kurt and Blaine were sitting. "And I think I may have just found him."

Dave scoffed. "I wouldn't bother. Those two are like an old married couple."

The Nephilim turned back to Dave, a spark of interest in his eyes. "Sounds like you're speaking from experience," he commented. "Which one was it then, the cute werewolf or the overdressed warlock?" Dave gave no answer, but the truth must have been evident in his expression. "Oh my god, it was the warlock, wasn't it? You have exceptionally bad taste. Almost as bad as that Lightwood guy who somehow decided it would be a good idea to start making out with a warlock in the middle of the Accords Hall when we were supposed to be preparing for battle. Seriously, I don't care if he's the High Warlock of Boston or wherever; no one should be allowed to wear that much glitter."

"Who the hell are you?" Dave asked incredulously.

"Sorry, should have introduced myself. How rude of me. Sebastian Herondale; pleased to make your acquaintance."

"Wait, Herondale? Your family run the institute here, right?"

"You think I'd be subjecting myself to this pathetic excuse for a town if I had a choice?"

"Fair enough."

"Well if you hate this place too, what are you still doing here?"

Dave shrugged. "My pack's here. And I don't know where else I'd go."

"So, basically you're a coward."

"Excuse me?" Dave stood up so he could glare furiously down at Sebastian.

Sebastian got to his feet as well, meeting Dave's gaze head on. "Oh, I think you heard me just fine." He stepped closer, blatantly invading Dave's personal space. "You're nothing but a scared little puppy, mooning after someone you can never have, staying in this loser town because you're too afraid to step out into the unknown."

"You know nothing about me."

"Don't I?" Then he did the last thing Dave expected.

It took a moment for the werewolf to realise Sebastian was kissing him, and a little longer to realise that he was kissing the shadowhunter back.

The kiss was nothing short of a battle; a fierce war of clashing tongues and teeth.

"What the hell was that for?" Dave gasped when they broke apart.

"Oh come on, cub, you can't exactly pretend you didn't like it." He pressed his thigh between Dave's to emphasise his point. "What do you say we get out of here?" He leaned in to murmur seductively in Dave's ear. "Angry sex is always the most fun."

A/N: I have a vague memory that Jace might be supposed to be the last of the Herondale bloodline, but I just had to make Sebastian a member of that family because of reasons.

Also, I didn't find a place to mention it in the fic, but I imagine Coach Bieste would be the pack leader. And, of course, Tina would be a vampire.