Updated on the 25th of September!
So I probably shouldn't even be writing more of this, especially so soon after posting the first chapter and because I have another fic I'm trying to finish up, but I couldn't help myself.
Not as long as the first and probably not as good, but still, enjoy the crossover! :D
This specific club had been Jace's favorite for a few weeks now, and he'd loved coming here every weekend or when he got the chance. He'd asked Alec to come with him many, many times over, and Magnus wanted him to go out—saying something about 'you can't just be with me all the time, darling'—but Alec wasn't the 'club type'. Still, meeting new people and fucking new people, he never tired of it despite how lonesome it was occasionally sitting on the barstool looking at other people dancing with partners.
Tonight, he'd have to say, was his favorite of all, because he had a partner that he liked—not that he hadn't before. But this one he liked a little more than he should for somebody he just met. This was even better than last Friday when he had met two eager mer-women.
Because Harry Potter. Dancing with him. Touching him and letting Jace touch back. Nothing was better or could be better. And it wasn't just that it was the Harry Potter, it was Harry himself.
They just finished dancing for what felt like hours. Well, more like thrusting into each other, but dancing all the same. Harry's neck was sweaty; Jace could feel his own sticky sweat on his face. And Jace could see a bulge in Harry's jeans from their dance and he wasn't shy about hiding it, which gave Jace great pleasure, seeing Harry flaunt what Jace caused.
They held hands walking to the bar to order two more drinks, and sat down in a booth of to the side in dimmed lighting, with curtains set around the edges like curtains on a stage. It set a perfect mood. Sitting on opposite sides, Jace's hand was empty without Harry next to him, but he held his cup instead, wishing Harry's hand replaced the glass.
"So," Harry said, taking a small sip of his tri-colored drink—purple, blue, and green swirled in one tall glass. "How long have you been…shadowhunting?"
Jace chuckled. "Feels like forever."
Harry nodded. "You kill many demons?"
"Plenty."
"Werewolves?"
"Not much, unless they provoke me."
"Warlocks?"
"Actually, there were a few in the city that tried to take over the world—you don't know how often that happens—but me and my parabatai and his sister stopped them. They're in some prison now, I'm not sure where, exactly. Haven't killed any though—they're hard to get rid of."
Harry hummed.
Jace got the feeling he was being interrogated.
"Sorry for all the questions. I've just been curious about it."
Jace sipped his own drink. "Curious about what?"
"Whether or not Shadowhunter's are actually helping anything, or just killing for the sake of killing."
Jace had heard that before. The ones who said it were mostly Downworlders, hating having their kind killed all the time—though honestly the ones who were killing fully deserved it, being the ones who killed others or planned to kill. Then there was the occasional non-Downworlder, like Harry—wizards and witches weren't really classified as Downworlders—who accused Shadowhunter's of doing wrong. He understood. He could see both sides of a situation. But it was offensive to think that Jace was 'abusing his power' or something.
"I can assure you; every ass I beat into the ground earned that beating. And killing isn't something I do for fun, it's my job. When it needs to be done I do it, but not until I examine every other possibility of whether or not they are truly justifiable of a death sentence."
Harry smiled slowly. "I'm glad to hear that, Jace."
He leaned forward. "Since you got to interrogate me—"
"Interrogate?" Harry laughed.
"Yes, you know that's what that was," Jace said with a smile. He continued, "I think I can ask something."
Harry gestured with his hand. "Go on then."
"Have you killed many demons, werewolves, and warlocks?"
A breathy laugh left Harry's lips. "Well, I can't say I've killed a demon, but yes, I've killed were's and warlocks before."
Jace leaned forward on the back of his hand, elbow resting on the hard wood of the table. "You don't look happy about it."
Harry narrowed his eyes and frowned. "Why would I be happy about killing?"
"Well, if I hadn't killed some people, then this world would be very different, and not a pleasant kind of different."
Harry nodded a few times. "That is true. But…I've seen…" Harry trailed off, licking his bottom lip. "I've seen people die, and I've… It doesn't look very…fun. I wouldn't wish it on anyone. Who are we to decide who dies or lives even if they do the most…evil of things?"
Voldemort. Harry was talking about him, and he knew because just then Harry reached his hand up to finger his forehead. His scar had vanished along with the snake-faced villain, he'd read so before, right in that spot. It was only three years ago when he killed the Dark Lord so it must be weird to not have a scar anymore, especially one so prominent.
Jace lifted his hand up to reach toward Harry, and grabbed the wrist, tugging his hand down from his forehand. He left them on the table, intertwined. Jace was glad when Harry didn't retract his hand.
"Let's not talk about death," Jace said.
The wizard nodded. "That sounds good."
"So, where do you live? I mean, do you live nearby?"
"Yeah, just moved out of my old place. This one's much brighter." He smiled. "How 'bout you?"
Jace lived in an apartment by his self. It was nice, small, and quiet. Isabelle once said 'it's too neat' but Jace liked things neat and in their place. Isabelle was the exact opposite of that.
"Down the street. I come to this place a lot. Never seen you here so I knew you either hadn't been to the city, or at least not to this part, too long."
"You just knew?" Harry asked.
"Yeah. You didn't look like the club type but you didn't look out of your element either, so I knew you'd been to places like this before, and if you'd lived around here it's obvious you'd come here, and I'm almost always here so seeing a new face…" He shrugged. "I just knew."
Harry raised a brow. He wore a silly smile. "Okay, Detective Holmes."
Jace grinned.
"Jace Lightwood!"
His grin faltered. He knew that voice; it was the voice that ruined his good times. Katrina. His ex. They'd only dated for a few weeks after he and Clary broke up, but she still wanted him in her bed, and never ceased trying to get him there. Some nights he had to get rid of her and it was frustrating.
He gave an 'I'm sorry' look to Harry, who shrugged and finished off his drink, and Jace's hand was left cold and bare once more.
She was storming over like a determined woman—and he admired her determination despite how many times he'd turned her down. She wore a black tank top with her big tits hanging out, and a bright gold necklace that re-directed the lights to flash in his eyes. Her pants were short, showing off her light purple skin, and she had on boots with heels ridiculously high. Her hair, which had been blonde before, was now bright pink.
"Hello, Katrina."
She sneered at Harry before giving Jace a puppy dog look that he once found cute but now found disgusting.
She was two-faced. One moment she was kind, giving and precious, the next she stabbed you in the back with a hot iron and never gave you another look.
The stereotypical blondes of the Downworld always gave him headaches.
"Jay, I'm lonely." She leaned down, exposing her glorious—hey, he could admit it—breasts.
He sighed. "I'm sorry to inform you that I'm not able to accompany you tonight. Or any night, I should say."
"I see you have other company."
"Yes. I do. This is Harry. Harry, this is Katrina. My ex."
Harry covered his mouth with his hand. Jace saw his eyes squinting. Holding back laughter, he guessed. "Pleasure meeting you, Katrina."
She smiled, and it was full of lies. "Nice to meet you, Harry. I've got to take Jay for a while, but—"
It was time to shoo away an annoying bug. "Not happening, Katrina. I'm done with you. I'm over you. And really, you're giving off an aura of 'slut', so I'm sure you can find an easy target somewhere else here."
She huffed. She didn't even seem offended at his 'slut' comment. "You'll want me back. Everybody does, at some point."
"Something you didn't understand about me, Kat, is that I'm not like everybody else."
She barred her teeth like a shark and was gone in the crowd.
Harry looked out as she left, and then faced Jace with a small grin. "She's pleasant."
"Yup. A real charmer."
"So… You dated her?"
"Why, jealous?" Jace joked.
Harry scoffed. "Not at all."
Then he saw a tint to Harry's cheeks, just a little—Alec turned red often enough that it was easy for him to spot it on anybody. He knew jealousy when he saw it, and this was a sign of jealousy.
"Ah, I get it. You're jealous of her. You wanted to take her place."
Harry blushed. "Merlin, help me," he mumbled.
"I think we're headed in the right direction if that's what you want."
Jace was actually hoping for him to answer truthfully. He wanted to know if Harry was interested in him sexually, or if he just wanted some pleasant company, or perhaps even a friend—he'd take the first or last, because he could turn a friendship into more within time, using his charm and ability to smooth-talk his way into almost anything. Starting out with sex was just easier, but Jace liked a good challenge.
The wizard puckered his lips. "Well, I won't lie. You are attractive. And I am interested and so far I haven't been adverse to the idea."
"I feel the same."
"But I'm not one to have…one nighters, you know?"
Jace nodded. Harry didn't seem the kind of person to do that to somebody, unlike Jace who was completely all right with it.
"Yes, I know. Well, not from experience, but I understand."
"You seem to understand a lot, then, don't you?"
"I'm just an understanding person, Harry."
Harry blinked owlishly. "You aren't mad about me denying you?"
"No. It doesn't happen often, but—"
"You understand," Harry deadpanned.
Jace laughed. "I was going to say that we could just exchange numbers and maybe get together some other night? Doesn't have to be here, but if I don't see you again I think I'll have to commit suicide from lack of Harry."
Harry tried to resist smiling, and it didn't work. "I think I can do that. Give me your phone, then."
After exchanging numbers, Jace sat back with a content smile. "I'm glad I met you, Harry. I feel like my life is now complete."
The wizard rolled his eyes. Jace knew Harry thought he was kidding. However, Jace meant what he said. He felt full being with Harry, sitting with him, dancing with him, talking to him. Like after eating big meal—not thanksgiving big, but somewhat big—and feeling warm and satisfied, that's what Jace felt like around Harry. And if he didn't get more he wasn't sure what he'd do.
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-Eve
