“Absolutely not.” Jace says when Simon brings a tree into Java Jace. Simon, as usual, ignores him. “No,” Jace tries again, “stop, don’t put a fucking tree in my shop.”
“It’s for my set.” Simon says blandly. “Sorry, it’s a musician thing.”
Jace grinds his teeth and stalks over to the espresso machine, angrily steaming milk. His hands move automatically, and three minutes later he slides a latte across the counter and motions to Simon, who stops tuning his guitar and walks over to peer at it.
“Fuck your tree.” Simon reads from the foam. He snatches the cup and slurps obnoxiously from it “Ask the tree for consent first, honestly.”
Maia ‘discovered’ Simon’s musical act through her girlfriend Clary, and decided that she’d torment Jace – who is technically her boss – by letting Simon do a gig for their live music nights. Jace hates him so much. He’s loud, and obnoxious, and wears bright graphic tees that stretch over his broad chest and are fucking annoying. He never shuts up, and has apparently made it is his personal challenge to piss Jace off as much as possible by calling him names and bringing in increasingly ridiculous things for his sets.
“You have a crush on him!” Maia had gleefully accused after Simon’s first night playing. Jace, leaning against the counter and watching the packed audience listen to Simon’s soft, crooning voice, had frowned and spluttered out “I do not.”
Jace definitely does.
“I want a pumpkin muffin.” Simon announces, swinging his bag onto the counter and hopping up on a stool. The crowd alternates between mind-numbingly slow and terrifyingly busy as college students go from class to class, and right now it’s empty except for Simon, who – Jace checks his watch – is skipping his Management class, since it’s 2:10 on a Tuesday.
“It’s April.” Jace says disbelievingly. “Where do you want me to get a pumpkin from? Go to Costco.” Simon yawns and slumps over the counter, pillowing his head on his arms and blinking up at Jace from underneath absurdly long eyelashes.
“Are you turning away good business?” he asks, tapping his fingers across the counter in an irregular rhythm. Jace slaps his hand away.
“Stop fidgeting. You never pay anyway.” He retorts, pouring out a cup of coffee and sliding it across to Simon along with the creamer jug. “Enjoy your caffeine overdose, I have an actual job to do.”
“I have a job too!” Simon yells at him as Jace disappears into the back room. Jace flips him the bird without looking, and he can hear Simon laughing, a low, rich sound. Jace smiles quietly to himself as he takes out a can from the back of his pantry.
Thirty minutes later, he pulls a muffin tray out of the oven and carries it to the front again. Simon’s got his laptop and textbook spread out over the counter, and Jace sighs as he sets the tin down.
“Move your shit, you can’t have it so close to the cash register.” He says, and Simon pulls his earphones out and stares at him, blinking owlishly behind his glasses
“Muffins?” he asks, shutting his textbook decisively and squinting at the baked goods like they’re a foreign concept. “Pumpkin?”
“It’s puree from a can. Knock yourself out.” Jace pushes a muffin towards him, and Simon grabs one, letting out an appreciative moan as he bites into it. Jace flushes at the sound, and feels compelled to add. “Feel free to also literally knock yourself out.”
“These muffins just might.” Simon says dreamily, ignoring Jace in favor of pulling his phone out to take a picture of the muffin. Jace shakes his head and busies himself refilling the sugar station, trying to tell itself that it’s not adorable that Simon’s dreamily composing a little ode to the muffins. Five minutes later he gets a message from Maia.
Off season pumpkin muffins? Boy you got it BAD.
Jace flushes and sneaks a look at Simon, who is inhaling down all six muffins like he’s never seen food before, and sends a quick message back.
I have NOTHING AT ALL I am allergic to feelings.
“You’re kidding me, right.” Alec says flatly, taking in the scene in front of him. It’s Friday evening, which means Simon is setting up for his gig. Jace hands a beaming couple their coffees before he joins Alec, who’s lounging by the sink and eyeing Simon setting up several mannequins on the tiny makeshift stage. Clary’s helping him, the two of them laughing as they arrange wigs.
“I wish I was.” Jace shakes his head. “Simon brings in a lot of business, though.”
“Is that a euphemism?” Alec demands. “What’s wrong with you?” Jace gives him a look.
“I’m not sleeping with Simon.” Jace says back. “What’s wrong with you?”
“You’re not?” Alec asks. “Huh.” He pulls his phone out of his pocket and types something in as Jace squints at him. Alec’s particular brand of aggressively snide, dry humor used to be a lot more subtle; something about that boyfriend of his makes him much more comfortable in his own skin, more likely to voice his thoughts rather than bite them down. Truth be told, it’s amazing, but not so much when it’s at Jace’s expense, which is now always, ever since Alec once saw Jace gazing longingly at Simon and immediately connected the dots.
“Are you texting Magnus?” Jace asks suspiciously.
“He was pretty sure you two were together.” Alec says, shrugging. “I mean, Maia’s Snapchat story regularly features you and Simon canoodling over the counter.”
“Canoodling – “ Jace begins indignantly, before he notices a customer come in. He glares at Alec as he goes to serve them, and then doesn’t get to dwell on it as the rush begins, people packing in to hear Simon’s set and ordering coffee and food left and right. Maia appears for her shift, and together she and Jace manage the hectic buzz, dimming the lights and silently moving around, cleaning plates and refilling coffee as Simon sings.
The mannequins serve as some sort of strange transition aid – Jace isn’t too sure – but people like it. Simon cracks a few jokes, talks a lot, gets Maia and Clary to come up on stage and dance with him briefly, and sings his heart out. Jace smiles a lot at the college kids, gets exorbitant tips every time he tucks his hair behind his ear and leans in a little close to a customer, and softly encourages everyone to tip Simon as well. He discretely drops half of the tips into Simon’s Darth Vader helmet at the end of the set as Simon is talking to people, and gives the other half to Maia.
“So badly gone for Simon.” Maia says, laughing, and Clary giggles at him.
“It’s five in the fucking morning.” Jace says, disbelieving, when Simon shows up at the shop on Wednesday morning. “Did you get lost or something?”
“Only thing I lost was my dignity.” Simon says, shivering and rubbing his fingers together. “Got drunk with Raphael last night and I fell asleep at his place.” Jace stares critically at him and his thin shirt and flannel combo, then sighs, turning to rummage under the counter.
“Here.” Jace says, throwing Simon a grey hoodie and a cup of coffee. “Go put that on, caffeinate your hangover away, and then get your stuff and go to class.” He tries not to stare as Simon stretches and tugs the hoodie on, a strip of skin briefly slipping into view before Simon’s engulfed by Jace’s hoodie. It stretches perfectly across his shoulders and his broader waist; Simon’s torso is longer than Jace’s and Jace swallows as he sees the soft fabric drape across Simon’s body. That is his hoodie, and Simon is wearing it, his shorter arms engulfed by the sleeves, fuck, he looks rumpled and adorable and Jace isn’t sure how much more of this he can take.
“Class.” Simon moans, startling Jace out of his reverie. “This is really fucking warm, fuck.”
“Obviously, it’s hot coffee.” Jace snorts, moving back to his grinder and exhaling through his nose, trying to ignore the flutter in his chest as he considers how easily he handed over his own clothes to Simon. He’s so fucking gone for Lewis.
“I mean the hoodie, you fucker, I’m not that idiotic.”
“Not that idiotic? So you admit you’re idiotic.” Jace says, sniggering, and he laughs outright when Simon wads up a napkin and throws it at him.
“Are you giving your girlfriend free pies?” Jace demands, peering at Maia from where she’s sitting at a table with Clary and Simon.
“As opposed to the small country’s worth of free coffee you’ve been giving Simon?” Maia asks pointedly.
“I’m an artist.” Simon says lazily, his feet propped up on the chair across from him. Jace slaps them off and takes a seat. “I pay with my art.”
“I’m an artist.” Clary says, shaking her head. “You’re an accountant.” Simon makes finger-guns and winks.
“You know it.” He says, and Maia and Clary nearly fall over with their laughter.
“No. Don’t do that. Nothing about your accounting act is sexy.” Jace says, shaking his head. Simon turns his finger guns on Jace.
“I’ll shoot you.” He threatens, narrowing his eyes at Jace. Jace smirks, and folds his arms.
“Alright, sharpshooter, shoot me with your imaginary gun. You wanna get your imaginary friend over here while you’re at it? Maybe a box for you to play rocketship in – “
Simon scowls and kicks at Jace’s shin under the table; laughing, Jace instinctively catches Simon’s foot with his own legs and traps it, grinning at the outraged look on Simon’s face.
“Give me my foot back.” Simon pouts, his lips pursed, and Jace waggles his eyebrows.
“Make me.” He challenges, tightening his hold on Simon’s foot even as Simon gives an experimental tug. Simon’s cheeks are stained red, and Jace can’t stop smiling at him, his heart beating faster and nervous butterflies appearing in his stomach.
He’s not sure what he’s doing here, flirting like this. Usually it’s cut and dry for him; he either picks someone up or he doesn’t. He never does this, waiting around for months, pushing and pulling at Simon and seeing how he responds, scared of the answer either way.
I just gotta enjoy what I have for now, he thinks to himself firmly as Clary interrupts their bickering and Simon turns to pay attention to her. Jace lets Simon’s foot go, but Simon doesn’t move his leg away, and they spend the rest of Jace’s break with their legs pressed loosely together. Jace is keenly aware of the warmth of Simon’s leg against his own, and every so often he looks over at Simon to see Simon staring back, a small smile playing on his lips.
His phone pings, and he picks it up to see a text from Maia. Disgusting!!! Control the gay!!! She’s texted him. Jace scowls even as Maia giggles.
“Wow, you do have nice eyes.” A cheerful voice says, and Jace looks up to see Simon walking in with a girl who’s staring thoughtfully at Jace with sharp brown eyes. She looks very no-nonsense, and Jace is suddenly struck with the absurd thought that this might be Simon’s girlfriend, despite being fairly sure that he would have heard if Simon was dating someone. He freezes.
“Uh.” He says, stumped.
“Fuck’s sake, Rebecca!” Simon says, flushing crimson. “Shut up, you’re an embarrassment to the human race.” He nervously runs a hand through his hair, and Jace looks between the two of them, trying to figure out what he’s in the middle of.
“I’m Simon’s sister.” Rebecca says, ignoring Simon and stretching out a hand for Jace to shake. Jace suddenly feels immeasurably relieved, if still a bit confused, and he shakes her hand as she assesses him. “You’re alright.” She finally says decisively, and Simon groans and pushes her. Hard, if the way she staggers seems to indicate, but she immediately straightens up and pinches him. Simon hisses, glaring at her, and Jace snickers at the way the siblings automatically revert to five-year olds. It reminds him of the way he and Izzy would bug Alec when they were younger. And still do today, if he’s being honest.
“Thanks?” Jace says, amused, even as Simon flushes and turns back to him. “What can I get you?”
“Caffeinate us.” Simon announces dramatically, leaning against the display case and pretending to swoon.
“You’re the embarrassment to the human race.” Rebecca says, shaking her head. “A mocha, please.”
“Everything I do is very charming.” Simon says confidently, straightening his jacket collar and making finger guns. “It’s part of my…charm.”
“Eloquent.” Jace snorts and moves to the display to take out a brownie. “Here, Rebecca, on the house for managing to survive with Simon as your brother.”
“Rude.” Simon says as Rebecca cackles.
“I give up.” Jace says, throwing his hands up as Simon drags in a large, inflatable sun. “What the ever-loving fuck?” He watches as Clary hums thoughtfully around the sun and bends down, examining it. “This is high on the list of absurd situations I never thought I’d end up in.”
“It’s a prop.” Simon explains as he pats it fondly. “His name is Corn.”
“Corn?” Jace asks. “Are you – insane?”
“Certifiably.” Simon says cheerfully. “It’ll make sense when I play my set.”
“Yeah, Jace, let the artist do his thing.” Izzy calls out from where’s she’s perched on a table, eating a cake pop and taking great joy in heckling everyone around her.
“I’m an adult.” Jace bemoans. “I pay my taxes. I own a small business. Why are these things happening to me?” He shakes his head, laughing despite himself as Simon simply responds with a long, drawn out “Coooooooorn” and goes to the back, resuming his work.
Two hours later, he’s making his round with the coffeepot as Simon plays his set. He freezes when he hears what Simon’s saying on stage.
“So recently – or not so recently, I guess, for a long time now – there’s this person? That I really like.” Simon says, pushing up his glasses and nervously laughing. Jace’s heart drops. “So, uh, I thought I’d play a song that I feel like encompasses what I feel when I look at them. It’s a classic, too, so I hope you like it.” Jace frowns and pointedly goes back to the counter as Simon begins to sing you are my sunshine, picking his phone up and pretending to look at something else while he seethes with jealousy. Figures. Of course Simon’s hopelessly crushing on someone already.
He feels crushed. In retrospect, of course he imagined the thing between him and Simon. What can he offer Simon? He doesn’t get all his jokes, he’s not smart enough to do things like accounting, and it’s just – Simon’s so good. Of course Jace doesn’t get him. But for a while there – he’d hoped he could have this, God, he’d hoped so desperately.
Simon finishes his song and there’s a beat of silence. Jace doesn’t look up even as Simon sighs and starts his next song. He doesn’t look at Simon again all evening, counting down the minutes until he can go home and scream into his pillow.
“What’s with the face?” Maia asks later as they begin to close up, Clary and Simon pulling down the set.
“Didn’t you like the songs?” Simon calls out to him, something anxious in his tone. Jace feels dull when he hears that. His hearts broken, how much worse can it get?
“It was fine.” Jace says shortly.
“I don’t know, Simon, I never really listen.” Jace grits out. “You’re not really my type. Of music.”
“Oh.” Simon says, his voice small, and Jace immediately feels bad. “Okay, I guess.”
“Jace.” Izzy says sharply, but Jace ignores her and escapes to the back room, leaning over the counter and breathing hard. Fuck.
Simon doesn’t show up all week. Jace is miserable, but he’ll never admit it. Instead he continues to serve coffee and draws Captain America shields in his lattes, morosely and bitterly scrolling through his text exchanges with Simon, berating himself for fucking up their friendship. So what if Simon doesn’t like him back? Isn’t Jace grown up enough to get over that and appreciate Simon’s friendship?
No, Jace’s treacherous inner voice whispers, it’s a lot more than a silly crush and you thought you had a chance.
“I thought I hated pining Jace, but moping Jace is somehow worse.” Maia informs him, gently steering his hand away from the caramel and towards the vanilla. “This is a vanilla latte.”
“Right.” Jace says, shaking his head. “Sorry.”
“Don’t apologize.” Maia mutters, walking away with the latte and serving customers before coming back to Jace, leaning against the counter and regarding him. “You really need to stop with this feeling sorry for yourself shit.”
“I’m not – “ Jace begins before he basically gives up on the whole thing all at once and decides to stay silent. Maia shakes her head.
“You know what would be great? Actually talking to him and asking him out.”
“It’s not that easy.” Jace says, shaking his head.
“You’re right. It’s scary.” Maia says. “But Simon put himself out there. You can do it to.” Jace stares at her.
“Why would I ask someone out who literally dedicated a song to someone he likes who isn’t me?” He asks, bewildered. Maia stares at him like he’s the one talking crazy shit.
“Huh.” She says.
Come Friday, Simon determinedly marches through the door exactly five minutes before his set is supposed to start. Jace pauses from where he’s plating a slice of cake and opens his mouth to speak – he wasn’t even sure if Simon was showing up, but here he is, stupid graphic tee and flannel combo and all, his hair in disarray and his eyes unfamiliarly intense as he storms in.
“Nope.” Simon says, pointing a finger at Jace. “Zip it. I’m not hearing any of it. You’re the dumbest person I’ve ever had the pleasure of meeting.” He marches onto the stage, and Jace has to rapidly blink his eyes and try to get rid of the lump in his throat at Simon’s words. What the fuck is happening? Is Simon that angry at him? He can’t figure out where he went wrong – but he has customers, and he grits his teeth and smiles weakly, serving the next sleep-deprived college student.
It takes Simon and Clary ten minutes to set up the sound system, and Jace serves everyone he can and then tries to escape to the back room where he’s going to maybe break down a little and then eat his sadness away in cupcakes. Magnus appears out of nowhere, though, and grabs his collar and drags him to a table that Alec’s already sitting at before he can do that.
“Jesus.” Jace sputters. Magnus is strong, and he’s caught so off-guard that the other man manhandles him with ease.
“Izzy’s going to take over for a while.” Alec says, and Izzy waves cheerfully from where she’s tying an apron on, nearly knocking over a bag of coffee beans. Jace winces.
“And you are going to listen.” Magnus says airily, shoving Jace into a chair.
“I’m not having a good day, come on.” Jace says quietly, staring down at his shoes.
“Jace. Trust me.” Alec responds just as quietly, squeezing Jace’s shoulder.
“Testing.” Simon’s voice echoes then, and everyone falls quiet. “Okay, listen up everyone.”
Jace looks up despite himself. Simon’s got no props; it’s just him, sitting in the spotlight on a stool with his guitar slung across his shoulders. He looks so fucking good; Jace bites his lip as Simon makes direct eye contact with him and glares.
“This song is for the idiotic owner of this lovable little pretentious coffee shop.” Simon says into the mike, and Jace opens his mouth to defend himself, his anger rising, but Simon barrels on. “I dedicated a song to him last week but apparently, he didn’t get the memo. I literally sang about him being my sunshine and he couldn’t read between the fucking lines.”
Jace heart stops and he clenches his hands; it simultaneously feels like the universe is playing a big joke on him and like it’s giving him everything he’s wanted, a worrying combination of terror and excited adrenaline. He’s not sure what’s happening but he’s got a vague inkling, and he wants it so badly to be true but he’s not sure what he’d do if it is – or what he’d do if in some bizarre twist of fate it isn’t.
“This one’s for you, Jace, you dick.” Simon says furiously, and then he starts strumming his guitar with a level of aggression Jace has never seen before. People are laughing good-naturedly, but Jace is frozen.
“You are my motherfucking sunshine, my only goddamn sunshine,” Simon sings, “and you make me so happy, when skies are grey, you’ll never fucking know dear – no, sit down, Jace – “ this he tosses out as Jace stands up almost unthinkingly, his body thrumming with the undeniable need to do something. He doesn’t even know where to start with the angriest rendition of the song he’s ever heard. “Sit down, I just – “ Simon sighs and takes a deep breath before he strums his guitar again, this time softer.
“You are my sunshine,” Simon begins to sing again, his voice low and melodic, “my only sunshine. You make me happy, when skies are grey.” Simon’s eyes are locked on Jace, his gaze intense and heavy and so, so warm. Jace feels like he’s standing on the edge of a precipice, his body held together only by Simon’s song.
“You’ll never know dear, how much I love you.” Simon slows down, the silence between notes heavy. “Please don’t take, my sunshine, away.”
Jace is moving before he knows it, stepping up onto the platform and dragging Simon into a kiss. Simon laughs into it, surging forward and pressing back, hard and unyielding. The kiss is an explosion of heat, sparks racing up Jace’s spine and dancing across his skin; it’s the two of them leaping over the precipice, tangled together. Around them, the crowd is cheering and clapping, but Jace can hardly hear them over the pounding of his own heart, pulling away to look at Simon, whose eyes are closed.
“Simon?” He asks. His hands are still cradling Simon’s face, and one of Simon’s hands is at the base of his neck, holding him close, while the other is wrapped around the guitar.
“I’m savoring it.” Simon says dizzily, finally blinking his eyes open. His absurdly pretty eyelashes flutter, and he grins crookedly at Jace. “I spent a week thinking you rejected me.”
“Well.” Jace says, pressing another quick kiss to Simon’s lips. “So did I. Even?”
“Even.” Simon confirms happily. “Now get off my stage, I have a set to perform.”
“Rude.” Jace says, but Simon briefly brushes their noses together, his eyes fond, and Jace smiles as he steps back, taking a small bow as people wolf-whistle at him.
“I think you should make out with me onstage more often, it really increases our tips.” Simon says incredulously as he leans against the counter long after everyone else has left. Jace wipes the espresso machine down, rolling his eyes.
“Don’t pimp me out for your music.” He says sternly, or tries to say sternly. He’s so happy he feels giddy with it, though, so it’s hard to do anything but keep staring at Simon in quiet disbelief that this is actually happening.
“Aw babe, but it’s so romantic.” Simon says, pressing a hand to his forehead and pretending to swoon. Jace growls and grips the front of Simon’s shirt, yanking him forward and pulling him into a fierce kiss, greedily swallowing down the little moans that Simon lets out. He feels more than he sees Simon’s hands scrabbling for purchase on the counter as Jace slips his tongue past the loose seam of Simon’s mouth.
“How can I – “ Simon gets out between kisses, gasping for breath, “Just let go for a second, Jace, so I can get over this damn counter.”
Jace laughs as he loosens his hold on Simon’s shirt, pulling back to watch as Simon scrambles from the stool to the counter, swinging his legs over and about to jump to the ground before Jace stops him with a hand to his chest.
“Better this way.” He mutters as he pushes Simon’s legs open and steps into the resulting space, sliding his hands up Simon’s torso and diving back in to relentlessly kiss him. Simon arches his back, groaning, and locks his legs around Jace’s waist, looping his hands around Jace’s neck and kissing back fervently. He gets a hand in Jace’s hair and tugs hard, sending a sharp spike of lust skittering across Jace’s skin. Jace whines and his eyes screw shut, his body rolling against Simon’s as another part of him begins to perk up at the proceedings. Simon makes a delighted noise.
“To clarify,” Simon says, pulling back and dragging his thumb across Jace’s lower lip, his eyes dark. “We’re dating, right?”
“I’m really far gone for you. I’ve wanted to date you for months, and I think we’ve basically acted like a couple for months too.” Jace says softly. Simon smiles at him before he uses the grip he has on Jace’s hair to tilt his head back and press his lips to Jace’s neck, setting his teeth on the skin and gently biting before soothing over the spot with his tongue.
“Love it.” Simon murmurs as he leaves an aggressive hickey on Jace’s neck, his hips jerking up against Jace’s. Jace moans in response, pushing Simon’s T-shirt up his back and digging his nails into the corded muscle in Simon’s back. “Love you.” Simon adds.
“Love you too.” Jace says, his cheeks heating up, and Simon grins at him, pulling away from his neck and dragging his shirt up and over his head, tossing it to the side –
- where it hits an unimpressed Alec in the face.
“Jesus.” His brother splutters, as Magnus eyes them critically. “On the counter? Where we all drink our coffee?” Izzy, Maia and Clary are behind them, snickering.
“I wipe it down every day. I’m very clean, I have an A rating.” Jace says snippily as he clutches Simon closer, trying to hide both of their erections. Simon’s buried his head in Jace’s neck, his bare shoulders shaking with silent laughter as he does absolutely nothing to help Jace.
“That’s still just wrong.” Alec whines. “My coffee.”
“What do you want?” Jace asks, trying his best to give off get lost vibes.
“To see if you guys wanted to get dinner with us, Jesus.” Alec says, his nose wrinkled as he throws Simon’s shirt back at them. Jace catches it and sets it down on the counter.
“A celebratory dinner, for you two idiots getting your act together.” Clary pipes up. Jace shudders, his concentration thrown as Simon starts to lightly press kisses to his neck, apparently uncaring of their friends watching them.
“Get a room, you guys are impossible.” Maia says in a disgusted tone, but she has a self-satisfied smile on her face as she surveys the two of them wrapped up in each other.
“This is a room, this is my fucking store.” Jace gasps out as Simon tugs at his hair again.
“Whether you leave or not, I’m going to suck my boyfriend off in the back room.” Simon says, finally looking up and squinting at everyone. “I spent a week being sad, I just want some time with Jace.”
“Fair enough, if a little too much information.” Magnus agrees placidly. “Come on, Alexander, we’ll just go to dinner with the girls.”
“Be safe.” Izzy says, throwing them a wink as she leaves.
“Sanitize.” Alec bellows at them before he closes the door, and Jace huffs out a laugh that turns into a choked off moan as Simon lightly scratches his nails down Jace’s stomach and rolls his hips again, a surprisingly graceful move that has Jace forgetting all about his siblings just being in there and instead focus on how unbelievably beautiful Simon looks, staring up at him with his faint smile, the corners of his eyes crinkled in happiness.
“I was serious about the sucking off part.” Simon says lowly. “If you want too…? If it’s too fast, just say the word – “
“Months of foreplay.” Jace groans, tugging on Simon’s broad hands. Simon obligingly slips off the counter as Jace steps backwards towards the store room. “Come on, we’ve got a lot of teasing to make up for.”
“A man with a plan, I like that.” Simon says, pressing forward and shoving Jace against the storage door, his eye flicking over Jace’s workspace briefly before he fixes them hungrily on Jace again.
“I should hope you like me, you just serenaded me.” Jace snipes, hissing at the end as Simon shoves his thigh between Jace’s legs. He grinds down automatically, aching for friction.
“Will you serenade me?” Simon mutters, pushing Jace’s shirt up and thumbing over a nipple. Jace moans incoherently, his mind scrambling for words.
“Sure, I play the piano. I’ll – ngh – perform Chopsticks for you.” He gasps out. Simon laughs.
“I want Mozart, you asshole.” He says, his own voice strained. He pushes at Jace’s shirt, and Jace gets the hint and drags it off.
“I’ll sing for you.” Jace admits as Simon presses close, his skin warm to touch. “I’d do almost anything for you.”
“I would too.” Simon kisses him. “It’s embarrassing, honestly, how gone I am for you.”
“Yeah.” Jace sighs, moaning into the kiss as they find a rhythm. “Yeah.”
“You can’t just bring a trampoline in here and call it a prop!” Jace says the next Friday, crossing his arms. Maia is doubled over the counter, wheezing with laughter.
“Yes I can.” Simon says confidently, trying to drag the huge thing in.
“This one might be a little impossible.” Clary pants, her hands on her hips as she considers the trampoline.
“Artistic license.” Simon huffs out, wiping his brow. “Plus I’m dating the owner.”
“He sounds like a real pushover.” Jace sighs, leaning back against the counter. “Go ahead, try to fit a fucking trampoline in here. See if it works.” Simon grins and runs over to press a kiss to Jace’s lips.
“Thanks babe!” he enthuses, and Jace smiles despite himself. He’s so happy with Simon; it’s kind of ridiculous. If Simon wants a fucking trampoline, he can have it. It’s Simon. Jace loves him.
(The trampoline does not fit. Jace laughs for weeks about Simon being defeated by a trampoline.)