Hello again, I know it hasn't been long but I write as a break from revision, which incidentally will be over this time next week YAYYYY! There is another lemon this chapter…though it is not what one might expect… *cue OTT puzzled face* Enjoy, regardless, and let me know what you think!

And Zoe, I'd love it if you'd read this, but that thing we joked about happening after strictly come dancing happens :P Just warning you. (Sorry to anyone who thought 'wtf' looking at this!)

As expected, the annual meeting of the New York vampire leaders had turned into a we-hate-werewolves bitching session. Simon Lewis had sat, quiet and uncomfortable, through the whole thing, ignoring the stares of what seemed to be the whole community; varying from disgusted to wistful. They all knew who he was.

The meeting was held in the vast, once-grand foyer of the Hotel Dumont. Sickly, odd-smelling candles flickered, dotted around the room, casting an odd, ethereal light onto the blank white faces, drawing a feral gleam from nocturnal eyes.

They're vampire candles, echoed a voice in Simon's head. Made from the wax of Hazlin demons. Having real fire at a vampire convention would be like fire at an oil slick.

It wasn't, however, the first sign of madness, but Magnus Bane. Simon had been walking there when Alec and Magnus had arrived and explained the situation, offering to help him however they could. Magnus had quickly established a temporary psychic link between them, so that he could keep an eye on the night's events, and be ready to send in Alec if Raphael tried anything. Now that the meeting was over, it was likely he'd make him move soon.

Simon sighed, half in worry and half in amusement. He felt like he was in a bad spy movie.

"Daylighter." Raphael's voice snaked into Simon's ears, an odd hiss escaping from between his fangs. "A word, in my private chambers."

Okay Ratboy, either this is it, or he's making a move on you. We should've given you a rape whistle.

He ignored Magnus and nodded stiffly, wondering how Alec would save him if things got dangerous. How would he even get in? Simon doubted the Manhattan clan would take too kindly to him just barging in; but then again, he was a shadowhunter. If he said Simon was needed by the Clave or something, Raphael would probably let him go. But would he try again?

Stop worrying. Alec will distract him, giving you time to slip away, and if he tries again, then we'll just stop him again. He may be powerful politically, but I've heard he's not much of a fighter. Alec could take him down easily… he's almost as good in a fight as he is in bed, and that's good.

Ohhh, no! Simon did not want that mental image. He opened his mouth indignantly when Raphael turned with a curious glance.

"Is there a problem, Daylighter?"

"Oh, no. No problem. Where are we going, anyway?"

Raphael's chambers turned out to be what had once been an expensive suite, but unlike the rest of the hotel it hadn't fallen into disrepair. Simon was beckoned into a spacious living room, and was struck by how normal it was. He didn't know what he'd been expecting; darkness, coffins, maybe some festering animal bones, but it was just a regular room. He tended to forget that other vampires were human, just as he was. The only odd thing was that after they had both entered, the door melted away like wax in the vampire candles. Fuck.

"Sit down, Daylighter. You look like you could use a drink." Had Simon had a heartbeat, it would have raced, palms sweating, but he stayed cold, pale and still despite his fear.

Relax. I'm sending Alec in now.

Simon felt the psychic connection break, and hoped it was due to Magnus and not just an accident. Suddenly, he was very aware of his surroundings, every whisper of air, every distant chatter of vampire voices, every growl of engines outside the hotel. When would Alec arrive?

Knock knock.

The knock reverberated through the room, skittering off every surface before clambering into Simon's ears, startling him. Who's there?

"Enter!" Raphael's call came from the kitchen, where he was supposedly getting glasses of blood. One of them safe, the other poisoned, he supposed; hoping Alec would come before he had to drink it. With his approval, the door reappeared, and through it stepped Alec.

"Hey, Simon." He gave an awkward grin, very pale in the candlelight- he would have looked almost like a vampire himself, had it not been for the life that poured out of him; his life was in every move he made, from the curl of his fingers to the ripple of his hair to the unconscious sway of his slender hips- whoa there, Simon thought. Alec probably thought he was checking him out or something, and was glad Magnus hadn't heard the thought, or he'd be in big trouble. Possibly turned into a camel, or a piece of cheese. Would he be a vampire camel? Simon hastily ended his nervous mental babbling.

"Alright Alec." The shadowhunter seemed to catch the tension underlying his words, for he nodded, quickly averting his eyes as Raphael returned.

"Nephillim. What brings you to my territory?"

"I just, uh, wondered if I could have a word with you… in private."

The sort-of clan leader looked puzzled, turning his dark, flat eyes on Simon, a brief violent flash colouring their depths.

"Very well, I suppose the Clave does not like to wait. We will have this chat another day, Daylighter. I will send for you."

He gestured Alec to follow him into another room, leaving Simon alone. The only problem was, how could he get out?

Alec followed the vampire into a dim, candlelit room that appeared to be Raphael's main living space; a couch, a bed, a coffee table, and to his surprise, an Xbox: frozen on the image of Underworld. He suppressed a grin; how appropriate. Still, he was a little unsettled by the candlelight- it seemed to be the normal vampire lighting, but for him it conjured memories of Magnus' room on hot, hot nights-

His expression must have changed at the memory, because Raphael cocked his head, looking at him curiously.

"I know that look, the one in your eyes. You're not here on Clave business, are you?" Alec froze, unsure of how to continue. "I thought not." The vampire chuckled softly, a shrill, cold sound that sent a shiver down Alec's spine. "Ahh, I see. It must be hard for you, Alexander, lusting after first a warlock, and now a vampire…but that's okay. I won't tell."

Fuck. Alec was clueless. What in Raziel's name could he do? He needed to distract Raphael for long enough so that Simon could get out of the hotel and back to the Institute… but he seemed to think- no. Why would he think that? He must've misinterpreted Raphael's words.

"Um, I don't think-"

"Shh," An icy cold finger pressed into his lips, dark eyes dancing with a dead sort of heat, and regarded Alec hungrily, like a tasty cake he was about to tuck into. "Relax. You'll enjoy it, I promise."

Oh God. What could he do? He didn't know whether Simon was out yet, or how to make an exit without seeming suspicious. The vampire trailed a sinuous tongue down his throat, tingling pleasantly. There was only one thing he could do…play along. Until Simon was safe, and then Magnus would come and get him. Right?

Suddenly, Raphael slammed him into the wall, clawing at his shirt and tearing it off, rubbing every inch of their bodies together with a hot, delicious friction that teased a moan from Alec despite how wrong it was.

Raphael revelled in the shadowhunter's clear blue eyes turning dark, midnight navy flooding in to eclipse the brightness like the sea before a storm. Running his fingers lightly over the defined chest and abs, he thanked whatever gods he could think of for such a golden opportunity; the boy was gorgeous. He attacked Alec's neck with his lips, sucking ravenously on the hot, smooth flesh, trailing down his chest until he reached the waistband of his jeans, teasing the zipper down with his razor-sharp fangs, Alec squirming under the firm grip of his hands on his muscular thighs.

As the rest of his clothes slid to the floor, Alec pulled Raphael back up.

"Wait. Please, I can't-" Raphael silenced him with a feverish kiss, biting the bottom lip until blood trickled into his own mouth.

"Shut up."

He swept him up and threw the shadowhunter roughly onto his bed, impatiently kicking off his own clothes and stumbling over to shove Alec down with a firm hand, clambering on top. "Fuck, you're hot," he murmured into his neck, fighting the urge to bite down hard on the pulsing vein that snaked down his pale throat.

"Raphael-"

"Don't talk." He kissed him again insistently, sliding hands over every inch of the boy he could reach; hot skin quivering under his eager touch, this was fun. It had been far too long since he was with a man this way, and Alexander was lovely, so warm and absolutely delicious. Raphael ground his straining cock against Alec's, ripping a throaty moan from them both, and the shadowhunter clutched his hips in a death grip, urging him on at last, pupils dilated with pitch-black lust that threatened to swallow up the iris entirely.

He reached into the bedside table for a bottle of lube, scratching his nails across Alec's chest as he did so, causing him to throw back his head and extend his strong, vulnerable throat, adams apple bobbing just below the surface of his pale, damp skin. The urge to bite, rip it open was so strong that Raphael tore open the cap with his teeth by way of distraction, noting how Alec's tongue flicked out appreciatively, eagerly.

After liberally coating himself, he slid in between Alec's legs, making him wince a little, before wrapping a slender leg around his waist and growling, which Raphael took as encouragement to pull out almost fully and then slam back in, repeating the action until Alec was moaning and writhing beneath him, black spots distorting his vision as his prostate was struck repeatedly.

"Fuuuck, you feel so good," he groaned, biting at the chain that dangled from the vampire's throat, the one that normally sported the crucifix he wore to visit his family, then nipping at the scar the holy symbol had seethed into his skin.

They were both close, sweat-slicked flesh burning up, thrusts growing erratic, until Alec came with a sigh, Raphael seconds later with a shaky growl, fangs tearing open his own lip and drizzling shockingly red blood onto Alec's collarbone, where it splashed wetly, and onto his closed mouth and eyelids, soaking into the creases of his swollen lips.

It was only when Alec pulled the other man's body close, to find it slighter than usual and rapidly cooling, when what he'd conveniently forgotten in the heat of the moment hit him. Not Magnus. Not even remotely. What had he done?

Another conveniently forgotten thing was Simon. Simon, who didn't know how to get out, and had heard the whole thing.

Oh dear. I hope you lot appreciate the obscene amount of awkwardness I go through to give you lemons. It was extra awkward because while I was writing this, on a vodka-fuelled whim, someone downstairs was playing 'Karma Chameleon', so whenever I'd stop to think I'd hear it, and then start laughing to myself. Let me know what you think, whether you want more lemons or not.

Je t'aime. Seriously, if I didn't love you I wouldn't write stuff like this.

Love China.