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Aught But Death

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"I mean. At least you have that hair. And you know," Jordan waves a hand at Jace as if indicating his body in general, "all of that."

Jace pauses mid- swig and puts the bottle down to raise an eyebrow.

"Sorry, should I not have said that?" Jordan backpedals, "I'm a little drunk. I take it back. You're hideous. And heterosexual."

"Oh we both know neither of those things are true," Jace smiles down at his bottle, pausing to look Jordan over consideringly before he slides over the shot of tequila he hasn’t touched yet.

 

Jordan stares at it for a second and then up at Jace who is watching with an expectant smirk.

"I have a room upstairs," Jordan says, words tumbling out like he's not thinking about them before they come out, "It seemed far enough from the Hunter's Moon and Jade Wolf and Simon's apartment."

Jace actually throws his head back and laughs in a way he never does around other shadowhunters or their usual downworlder friends, standing up with his beer in hand. That’s exactly why Jace is at this bar that he’s already forgotten the name of, so he can avoid everyone he knows. Except this guy, apparently.

"Lead the way, praetor.”

 

They stumble less than expected, both less drunk than they looked and wanted to be, and in the dark of the back stairwell where the noise of the bar is dampened down, Jace crowds up to Jordan's back and turns his head in to his neck. He's never really--well it's not a regular thing. That anyone knows about. For Jace to be with men. But people—genders, species, whatever—are all the same with different plumbing. And it’s not like Jace has ever stuck to the same species.

He puts a hand on Jordan's hip, sliding it around to fan over the werewolf's stomach when he leans back into Jace, going soft and pliant.

 

"You sure Maia won't mind?" He murmurs. "She'll smell me on you."

"She can't stand to get close to me and doesn't want me that way ever again, so."

"So here you are, using me to dull your pain," Jace kisses the join of his neck and shoulder, huffing a laugh, "Good choice," grazes his teeth on an earlobe, "I'm an excellent distraction. Maia thought so too, one time."

He laughs outright when Jordan's breath hitches.

"Do you like that? That you're going to let me fuck you after you know I've fucked her?"

"Don't talk about her like that."

"Why?" Jace asks, amused, "It's practically an honor, not an insult."

 

Jordan whirls around and shoves him up into the wall, arm barring across his chest.

"This is exactly what she did you know,” Jace smirks down at him, not even fumbling his grip on his beer bottle, “shoved me into a wall before she had her way with me."

Jordan stares at him, eyes hard, then looks at his mouth, and kisses him hard and punishing. Just like Maia had that one time in the alley.

Perfect. He lets himself get lost in the feel of teeth on skin. At his lips, his neck--werewolves seem to have a thing for biting, Jace observes, a part of himself distant and watching his body go through it all.

 

"Thinking about your missed chance with the redhead?"

Jace says nothing.

"No?" Jordan kisses up to his ear, "Your parabatai then," he pulls back to watch Jace's face close down to blank, "Ah, there it is. He doesn't have use for you anymore unless your life is in danger. So here you are, using me to dull the pain." He smirks as he echoes back Jace’s earlier words.

"You don't know what you're talking about," Jace opens his eyes, quiet and dangerous.

"You're right. Maybe I don't." Jordan comes in to kiss at the corner of his mouth until Jace relents and kisses him back. But then, "You can call me his name if you want," he whispers without a shred of self-preservation.

 

Jace freezes for a moment. Then chugs the rest of his beer before dropping the bottle and throwing Jordan over his shoulder and running up the last few steps. Kicks down the door tosses him onto the bed.

The werewolf looks up at him with bright, burning eyes, mouth wet and bruised. "Have I made you angry, shadowhunter?"

Jace kicks a leg backwards to shut the door behind him and pulls off his shirt, unbuckling his belt and kicking off his shoes and pants with practiced ease. Jordan scrambles to do the same before Jace gets there to shove him down flat on the bed. 

"You could have just said you wanted it rough," Jace pins his arms above his head, bites at his chest, and knees his legs apart, "Do it like she does."

Jordan relaxes into it for a moment before flipping him over and straddling him to grind down and Jace smirks, eyes lighting up to activate his strength and speed runes so he's a blur as he sits up to reciprocate Jordan's rough hands and nails digging into his body.

It's some mixture of sparring and sex and everything he needs right now. Jace loses himself in it without a second thought.

 

Outside, the city is darkened by a raging thunderstorm, covering up the full moon Jace wouldn't have noticed anyway.