Sorrryyyy for the long ass wait for this! ENJOY!
Jace knew it wasn't very smart to just leave, but he had to get away for a while. Not from Magnus really, he was great and he listened and that in itself was fantastic. He usually kept to himself even if it didn't seem like he did, a lot of people thought Jace wore everything on his sleeves. Alec probably was the one to pin the label 'quiet one' on but Jace knew he was more silent than Alec, at least when it came to his feelings and all that sappy shit. As Clary once said to him, "It's like you never feel anything at all."
There was guilt in leaving Magnus after all he'd done for him—giving him a place and food. Plus, during the two days of staying with him, almost every hour was filled with plenty of innocent flirting that occasionally went too far—or 'not far enough', rather, on some other occasions, oddly enough—and all of it was entertaining. Magnus was entertaining.
But he just needed some Jace time. Some time to cause mischief and fuck with other people. It wasn't like Jace was going away forever, anyway.
So he went to the bar. It was called 'Hunter's Moon' and Jace knew it was a werewolf's bar, if the name didn't give it away the smell did, but he still went inside. A stiff drink would make everything go away, or at least fade all his problems into the background for a while, and who better to make a drink strong enough to do that than a Were, who needed the strongest of drinks to get drunk?
He ordered a drink as pretty as his eyes, sighed before he downed it, and then started making jokes that pissed everyone off just like he wanted to do—to try and get things back to normal.
He had to say, it was easy to make a werewolf angry. Especially in a bar where they were drunk off their asses. He got into a fight with somebody named 'Bat' really soon—the guy was sensitive—after he had a few more shots. And what a stupid name for a werewolf, he'd thought. And he said that aloud and they guy threw a punch he easily dodged. Eventually Bat got a hit in, and Jace was amazed at that, but everything stopped when a deep, authoritative voice called out cutting the ruckus of the fight and the people around it.
"Stop this."
"Luke," Jace said in shock.
If Luke was here to take Jace back… Well, there was nowhere to go back to. Either Clary asked him to look for him, or maybe even Alec or Isabelle did, it had been two days and they probably wondered where he was. He wouldn't go with him to the Institute or anywhere he didn't want to go. Jace would fight him if he had to.
The alcohol was still in his system, though, so when Bat turned into a complete submissive, because the pack master was in the room watching, he couldn't stop the smirk in his direction.
Bat growled at him, looking ready to pounce.
"Bat," Luke warned. Bat faced him like a good solider would do. He nodded towards the back door. "Go clear your head outside. And Jace Wayland, I don't think you're very welcome here anymore."
Luke didn't say it more like it was a statement. And as Jace looked around, he realized that it was very true. So he chugged the last of his drink and followed Luke outside.
He felt blood drizzle down his chin, wiping it off with his sleeve. There were just a few scratches on his arms. Nothing too bad, really. He was actually impressed that Were got a few good hits in.
"I'm calling Clary," said Luke immediately, pulling out his phone.
Jace grabbed it before a single button could be pressed. "No. I don't want anyone knowing where I am."
Luke raised a brow. "Why?"
Jace sighed. He spat out some blood from the punch he received earlier and ran his fingers through his hair. "Maryse kicked me out of the Institute."
He was saying this only because Luke was the kind of man who Jace could trust. From what he'd heard and knew that is. But then again…it might've been all those shots talking for him…
Luke's face fell, eyes sorrowful. "Oh. I'm sorry to hear that." Jace got the feeling he actually was sorry. "But why can't I call her?"
"I'm staying with Magnus Bane."
"Bane? The warlock? How did you end up there?"
Jace didn't answer.
Luke sighed. "Well…I guess I could give you a lift seeing as you reek of booze. Why you came here I'll never know."
Jace handed him back his phone. "Your phone is really outdated."
"Did you want a ride or not?"
"Who dares disturb—"
"Enough with the act, Magnus." Jace was full-blown drunk now. Every little bit of rum and tequila and Downworlders booze was rumbling inside him like a mundane clothes drying machine. Sometimes it felt amazing and then it was just tiring. He felt alive, then suddenly dead on his feet like when he battled the Abaddon.
There was silence before: "JACE LIGHTWOOD! GET UP HERE NOW!"
Luke patted his arm. He had a sympathetic smile on his face. "Good luck." He turned and left in his truck.
Magnus had on a thin t-shirt that sparkled like diamonds, and flannel pants. And he was just glaring at him when he got in, so Jace felt like a child. A child who snuck out without their parent's permission to drink and party and get into bar fights. Maybe mundane teenager was more accurate. Still, he felt a little bad for making Magnus worry, because clearly that's what the warlock did the entire night. "I'm s—"
Magnus held his hand up. "Don't. Speak."
Jace sighed loudly. He put his hand on his hip and said, "Look, I'm sorry I left. It isn't like you own me or anything."
"No, I don't." Magnus said that so calmly it was frightening. As frightening as his eyes that were staring into him, like they were digging into his brain, digging out everything Jace. He shook his head from that creepy picture. "However, the least that you could do is leave a note or even wake me to tell me. I wouldn't have minded."
Jace wobbled and blinked away dizziness. "I'm a little…wasted. Say what you want so I can sleep."
Magnus raised his brows so high they touched the ceiling. "Excuse me?"
Jace groaned. Magnus was right under the bright lights and he couldn't look anymore, so he put his head down and held it, nauseated. Maybe he'd had too many tequila shots. Or maybe it was that punch he took directly from Bat to his head. Either way, he was moments away from puking. He hadn't done that in a long time and was not looking forward to it.
Magnus was beside him. His warmth was comforting when he put his arm around Jace to steady him. "What am I to do with you, little shadowhunter?" he sighed.
"I don't know. Probably wither and die."
Magnus chuckled as he led Jace down the hall to the bathroom. "That's unlikely. I've lived years without you and I still look young and beautiful."
Jace glanced up at Magnus. He saw Magnus, really saw him, his eyes, his tall stance, and the way the light caught in his hair like little fireflies. It was in his alcohol-induced mind that he thought I want you, Magnus. It was probably obvious that he was attracted to him; he stared at Magnus for too long all the time. Now, however, he felt the courage that should've been there before coming out.
"You do," Jace said with a wide grin. "Look beautiful, I mean."
Magnus faltered in leading Jace. "You're surprising tonight. I don't know if I like it."
Jace laughed. "Thank you."
Magnus sat him on the toilet seat. It had a pretty blue cover. "If you must empty all that disgusting booze, please do it here and not on my nice carpets. I don't want to clean up after you. You already stink of werewolf's and Chairman Meow is scared."
Jace hummed. "You're angry with me."
Magnus stood up straighter, looking down at the shadowhunter. "I am."
"I apologized. Something very rare. The word 'sorry' doesn't usually come out of these perfect lips."
"Did you mean it, though?"
Jace blinked. "Yes. I did."
No words came from the warlock. He just sighed and walked away. Then, at the doorway, he turned his head. "Whether you meant it or not doesn't really matter."
"Why?" Jace wondered. People always wanted to hear 'I'm sorry', right?
"You shouldn't have to apologize in the first place. If you had just told me you wanted to leave we probably would be like this right now."
Suddenly, the nausea returned. Jace held his mouth, tasting blood and a hint of vomit, and already swilled booze. It was disgusting and he hated his self for what he did. Putting his head in his hands, Jace tried not to vomit. He didn't want to. It was shameful. Disgusting. Not….Jace.
"Just let it out, you idiot."
Jace looked up. Magnus was still there, with an exasperated look.
If he was going to barf he certainly didn't want anyone to see him. "Go away."
Magnus folded his arms. He leaned on the wall. "No. I think I shall stay."
"'Shall'? Who says—ugghh." Jace held his stomach. He bent forward. There literally was a war going on inside him. Between the mundane booze and the Downworlders booze.
Magnus moved so quickly he barely felt the air move. He was rubbing Jace's back and it felt just like before on that first night here: warm, and like magic. It was different in other senses because then he was comforted and didn't mind it. Magnus's hug was magical that night and Jace didn't want to let go. Now, Jace felt nothing but shame as he caressed his back. All he wanted to do was shove away Magnus's arm and kick him from his own bathroom so Jace didn't have to feel like this. He didn't know if it was the leaving without Magnus knowing or having him in this room while he felt so sick and awful, maybe both of those, but Jace just wanted Magnus gone so the guilt wouldn't eat him apart.
"Please," he begged. "Leave."
"I'll never leave you, darling. Not when you're like this."
Jace groaned. Stubborn old warlock. "I've been drunk before. I'm fine."
Magnus kept talking, his hand stayed right on the center of Jace's back. Warm yet irritating and guilt-inducing. "Why can't you just let it out? You told me before what was bothering you, tell me now."
"It's not the same as before."
"Why did you go to the bar? Why didn't you tell me?" Magnus persisted.
Jace took a deep breath, trying to calm himself. "I can't tell you."
"Why?"
He snapped. "You're so frustrating!" Jace stood up, having enough of that damned hand pressed against him, and his questions. He ignored the nausea. "You don't need to know! I don't have to tell you anything about me! I don't have to tell you that my life isn't perfect! It's obvious! I have a family at the Institute that I can't ever see! But that really doesn't matter! Do you know why?" Jace laughed breathlessly, calmly speaking. "Because my father, my father who I just learned was my father, is a complete lunatic that no one wants me to love. And I don't love him. I don't hate him, but I don't love him. How pathetic is that? I don't have a mom. I don't really have a father. And a girl who I was in love with is now my sister!"
Jace started to dry heave. He leaned forward, legs buckling, and fell onto his knees before the toilet. "Fuck," he exhaled shakily. "What am I doing?"
"You aren't helping yourself. You aren't trying to make this…better."
"How can I?" His voice sounded pathetic to his own ears.
"Talk to Maryse. Go to the Institute. Alec and Isabella are probably wondering where you are by now—"
"She probably told them I ran off, not that she kicked me out. She'll lie to protect her family, Magnus. I said it before and I'll say it once more: I will not return there to a place I'm not trusted."
"And I'll say this again. She loves you, Jace, and she cares about you. I'm sure she was hurt when she found out who you really were. She just needs to understand, and so do you."
Jace said nothing. He kept his gaze on the floor, away from Magnus' no doubt pity-filled beautiful cat eyes.
Then a ring came. Magnus pulled out his glitzed-up phone. "Hello? Oh, Clarissa. Yes. Jace is right here." Jace looked up in alarm. Magnus ignored him when he gave him a burning glare. "Luke found him, you say? So that's how he got home. He's been staying with me for a few days." Then Magnus froze. "The Inquisitor? Are you positive?"
Jace shook his head. After all he had said, was this Magnus just ignoring him? No, this wasn't ignoring his words, he was being his sly asshole self, and causing Jace more pain. Magnus completely ruined his trust.
"I will let him know, goodbye."
Jace used the wall for support to stand, and kept as good of a balance as possible. "How could you do that?"
"She already knew. Luke told her."
Jace swallowed. That made more sense. Luke would tell her because they were family, and Clary was probably worried for him. "What's happening?"
"You have a meeting with the Inquisitor tomorrow. Maryse called her."
He nearly blacked out. "What?"
Then Jace felt it. Magnus handed him a trash can and Jace threw up, clutching it to his body. Once he was done, he didn't even care that Magnus was right there, watching him, feeling sorry for him. Seeing him weak. He only thought of Maryse, and the Inquisitor, and his family, and seeing them all at the Institute after all that had happened. Why was she coming? Would he be killed for being Valentines son? Imprisoned, or perhaps like Hodge?
He was shaking. Magnus helped him sit back on the toilet seat. He looked up at him, feeling lost, broken as easily as a mirror—and thinking of that brought him memories he did not like—and mumbled, "I can't… I can't go back there…"
Standing before him, Magnus handed him a cup of cool water he must've made appear for him, tipping it against his lips—it was demeaning, but it felt too good on his sore, vomit coated tongue and throat. "Hush. You can so. You're a strong Shadowhunter, Jace, and one woman isn't going to make you weak."
"What will happen, Magnus?"
Fingers rang through his messy sweaty locks, and the warlock said, "I don't know, but you can't keep running away from everything. The only way to know is to face it, and face her. And I'm not talking about the Inquisitor, Jace."
Jace flinched.
Magnus's tone was no longer soothing, it was fierce and forceful, and he spoke to Jace like the hundred, or thousand, year old warlock he was. The warlock with wisdom earned from long life, and great adventures, and wisdom greater than any he knew. "You need to speak with Maryse. Before that vile woman appears. Do you understand?"
"You're evil."
"Am I? Would somebody as evil as I give you this?" A little bottle the size of his thumb hung between Magnus's finger tips.
"What is it?" Jace asked.
"Something very handy in curing a sickness like yours."
"Give it to me," he demanded. He reached for it, needing this sick feeling to leave him.
But Magnus held it up and back from him, and though Jace knew he could snatch it away easily, he didn't. Magnus would probably have some trick up his sleeve if he did. "No. I will only give this to you if you promise and swear to speak with Maryse about your…exile."
"Magnus, please… don't make me do that."
Magnus frowned. The bottle disappeared, and he knelt down in front of him, hands on his knees. He stared into his eyes and licked his lips, and Jace felt a stirring in his pants at the close up of Magnus right before him. Then Magnus's hand was caressing his face, warm palm against Jace's cheek. He kept it there, unmoving, and said, "That night you came over regarding Clarissa's memory, do you recall how you acted? How you spoke?"
Jace swallowed, and just so he could hear what Magnus had to say, he said, "No."
"You acted tall, and were very slick and smooth with your little sarcastic lines. Though I was more powerful than you, and though you needed what I knew desperately, you still acted above me. You threatened me, even, and were downright rude. But no matter the rudeness, what I saw was a resilient Shadowhunter, one that could survive so much. Now I see something else entirely."
Jace was glad when Magnus didn't say what he saw now. The warlock dropped his hand, and sighed. "I don't like seeing you so…low. Jace and sad don't go together. That is why I'm doing this. If you swear to speak with her, I will give the vile to you."
"And if I don't do it?"
Magnus smiled. "Now you're sounding more like yourself. But, if you don't, I will make your next days far worse than this night."
In the end, Jace made an oath to speak with Maryse, fearing Magnus more than her. He drank the bottle, and a few moments later, his stomach pains vanished, and his body felt less achy. "Thanks."
Magnus patted his head; Jace grunted. "Get some sleep. You've a long day tomorrow."
In an instant and instinctive move like he was on the battlefield, Jace held out his hand as Magnus was leaving, and grabbed onto his shirt with his fist. Being stopped on his way out, Magnus turned halfway, and saw the hand tightly clinging to the edge of his tee. He looked to Jace, who looked down. "Jace…"
He felt his cheeks heat up. And though he was embarrassed, he just couldn't let Magnus go. "Don't. Just—don't."
And Magnus sighed, and leaned down to lift him to stand by hands on his sides. He kept his hands grasped around Jace's body, and Jace kept his eyes on his chest. The silence was unbearable; he could practically hear the crickets. He felt hot and cold, hot where Magnus touched him, hot at his cheeks, and pretty much just icy cold everywhere else. And his stomach hurt again, but it wasn't the same pain, this was more of a tingling in his belly, like hunger only stronger. He clutched his hands to his belly together, and watched his fingers curl and tighten.
"Jace, darling, look at me," Magnus said softly.
So he did. And then, there were lips on his.
Now, Jace had kissed boys before, and he knew about Alec and his liking of the male type, and that was okay, and it was okay he kept it hidden until he was ready to come out. But really Jace had only made out with two boys, and one was wet, and the other…too eager.
If this was what it was like to actually kiss another man that wasn't awful at it, Jace wondered why Alec hadn't gone out to do it yet, and do it many times over.
To say the least, Magnus was very…skilled. And that may have been why Jace immediately felt his dick harden, but either way he hadn't felt this good in a long time. Not since the twins at the club that one night.
He had soft lips, and he and Jace's didn't fit together perfectly, it was like a triangle trying to fit into a circle, but what made up for the missing matches was the way his soft lips meshed with Jace's, and the way his hands kept him grounded. The kiss was hot, and slick, and Jace opened his mouth to feel more heat of Magnus inside him, and his tongue rubbed at the tip of Jace's for a split second before it was gone. He groaned at the loss, but kept moving his lips with Magnus's, the feel of it too much for him, and too much was perfect for him.
Jace's hands unfolded at his belly to touch to the small of Magnus's lower back and press him closer, the warlock grunting, and rub himself against Magnus, who was also rock solid.
He was kissing Magnus Bane, the High Warlock of Brooklyn.
Kissing Magnus. Who was probably just being nice and pitying him.
"Fuck," he swore, and pulled back enough to get away from Magnus's touch. "You… kissed me. Why?"
Magnus pushed his hair back. "You were the one who grabbed at me. I was just doing what I thought you wanted."
"Did you not want it? It seemed like you did."
Magnus laughed hoarsely. "If you couldn't feel my want, I'm concerned."
And Jace cracked a smile. "Oh, I felt it."
"And you stopped this because…"
Jace shrugged. "I assumed you were doing this out of pity."
"No, I don't do pity fucks."
Jace was startled. He did not expect the word 'fuck' to come out unless it was used in another way. He widened his eyes at Magnus, who looked amused. "What did you just say?"
He spoke slowly this time. "I don't do pity fucks."
Swallowing hard, Jace tried to appear unaffected. Inside he was a mess. "I wasn't aware that was going to happen."
"We would've found our way there eventually, Jace, I think you know that. What with your gawking at me all the time."
"Magnus, you can't really be suggesting that you and me…"
"Are you embarrassed? Is it because we're both males?"
"No, and no. I'm… You can't…" He couldn't breathe. He put his hand up to cover his eyes, and shook his head. Picturing him and Magnus on a bed, having sex, Magnus inside him or him inside Magnus, the warlock above him or below him, he was almost overheating. "You're just making fun of me, aren't you?" and though 'making fun' sounded childish, it was all he could think of to use.
"Jace… I'm not that awful."
He laughed. "Yes you are. You're awful. You've done awful things to me, Magnus, and I hate you for it."
"Hate is a strong word, darling. Are you sure that this—" and Jace gasped when his dick was gripped in his pants by a strong hand, cupping around it tight "—is hate?"
He dropped his hand from his face, and tried to ignore the want. Magnus was right there, staring at him with needy eyes, and Jace felt his cock twitch in his hold. "Yes."
"Hm. If it is truly hate you feel, then I'll let you leave, and if you'd like I can undo that little promise of yours you made earlier to go speak with Maryse tomorrow. But if it's not…" He leaned down to Jace's ear, and whispered with hot breath, "I'll strip you slowly on my bed, take you where you've never been before, make you beg and feel pleasure so great you'll never find it again. You'll get to be completely worshiped Jace, so tell me now, is this really hate?"
Jace closed his eyes, and shamelessly thrust into Magnus's gripping hand. "Magnus…"
"Just answer the question."
He panted. "I don't. I don't hate you."
"Good, I'm glad. Now let's head to the bedroom for some fun, shall we?"
I'll have a sexytimes chappy next :))) prob in a week or two.
