This was a bad idea. Simon knew this was a bad idea but he had to say it aloud anyway; hearing the words might knock some sense into him. "This is bad," Simon groaned, head thrown back against the leather interior of Luke's crashed, stashed car. "This is so bad."
"Shut up," Jace said, his mouth against the line of Simon's throat. "You talk too much. Kills the vibe."
Simon craned to give Jace a disbelieving look, because the vibe here, if there was one, was of the secret serial killer hookup variety and therefore there wasn't much to kill. Was there a way to make a situation less sexy than this? They were pressed together on the backseat of Luke's car, which Jace had done a fairly inelegant job of trying to hide because they'd found their way over here not minutes after that ill-timed aggressive makeout against the bricks.
Who kissed who first? Simon couldn't remember. They had been fighting, he knew that much. Jace was doing that snarling smirk Simon especially wanted to punch and Simon had gravel all down the back of his shirt from being thrown to the ground. Anger and adrenaline were rushing through Simon's veins with a particularly addictive kick but the weird part – the weirdest part, if this cavalcade of the bizarre could have a weirdest part – was that Simon could still smell the blood from Jace's bloody nose. And it was driving him crazy.
They had things they were supposed to be doing. The clock was ticking. Luke's life was quite literally hanging in the balance, but Simon? Apparently Simon thought it was the perfect moment to hook up with a guy he didn't even like, a guy his best friend made full on anime heart eyes at. But then again, Simon hadn't really been acting like himself lately.
Case in point: he dug his hands into Jace's gelled-back hair until the strands slipped messily between his fingers and dragged Jace back up to kiss him on the mouth. This close he could definitely smell the blood, almost taste it: sharp and sudden and coppery, but sweet. Simon knew if he had a mouthful of Jace's blood it would taste different from Camille's. He knew he would be able to tell the difference. Jace's blood smelled like some spice Simon had tasted once and forgotten about until this moment, a memory of something strange and unique on his tongue. Anise. Cloves.
"Ow," Jace exclaimed unexpectedly, startling Simon, who hadn't even realized – he didn't even know he was doing it, but his lips had trailed down to Jace's throat. Looking at the skin there Simon could see it was flushed, imprinted with a dull corona of teeth. Simon had bitten Jace. It wasn't enough to break the skin, but the bite was definitely there, looking incriminating until Jace slapped a hand over it. "You bit me." He looked down at Simon, frowning. "Seriously, what happened in that hotel?"
"Shut up," Simon grumbled and then kissed Jace hard again to guarantee it, pushing at Jace's shoulders until they were flipped around, Simon on top. Jace's hands gripped his hips and Simon sort of got it then, the appeal. Jace had strong hands, hands used to taking action, and his body was solid until Simon's.
The bite mark on his neck was swelling slightly, indentations rising to rough little bumps. Simon wondered if it hurt and a little throb of want ran through him.
"Mundie," Jace said, "You are into some weird shit."
Simon rolled his eyes. "You're killing the vibe."
Jace grinned at him and okay, okay – Simon got that too.
"Make this fast, alright?" Simon was already peeling at Jace's layers, pushing his black t-shirt up over his stupid abs and dragging his tongue over the skin there.
"That's –" Jace gasped, and Simon felt very triumphant. "That's probably not going to be a problem for you. Me, on the other hand…"
Simon sat up and pressed his hand over Jace's erection through his jeans, raising a smug eyebrow when Jace let out a groan. "You were saying…?"
"I have a stamina rune," Jace told him, which – that was interesting, but not a thing Simon could dwell on in a situation like this.
"I'll try extra hard then." Simon had Jace's dark jeans open in record time, tugged them down over rune-scarred hips (not that Simon was going to complain about the view) and took Jace into his mouth before he could think about it, before he could think at all. Simon had done this a grand total of once before, in the bathroom of a party during his senior year of high school with the jock who gave him shit in homeroom.
So. Simon sort of had a type, then.
Jace was still wearing his fingerless leather gloves and Simon could feel them when Jace threaded fingers in his hair, rubbed at the base of his skull. Strong hands in his hair, but Jace almost seeming to shiver under him, making these little desperate sounds like maybe he didn't know what the fuck was happening either. Like maybe Simon wasn't the only one out on a limb here.
Whatever crazy train Simon had boarded, he wasn't far gone enough that he was going to let Clary's not-boyfriend come in his mouth, so he pulled off and curled a hand around Jace, working his fingers firm around Jace's dick. He was looking down, watching and swallowing hard, coming to terms with the obviously deluded part of himself that found this incredibly hot, so he wasn't paying much attention to anything else. It caught him by surprise, then, when Jace grabbed him by the face and kissed him, made all those wild little noises against Simon's mouth instead of leaving them to the open air. And that's how Jace came, too, muffling his moans in their kiss.
Simon gave him a minute to recover. Then, "Are you the kind of guy who gets totally useless after he comes or can I count on you to handle this?" Simon gestured downwards at himself.
"I knew mundanes were annoying but you really bring it to another level," Jace said, but his hand slid down, leather on Simon's skin. "Remember, mundie – make it quick."
Simon's eyes fell shut and his hands came up to hold tight to Jace's shoulders, which were stupidly sturdy. Voice strangled, he said, "I can manage that."