Clace Surprises

Chapter One

Jace walked away down the dim hallway silently, his bare feet sinking in to the plush carpet. He didn't like being barefoot. His boots had gotten soaked when they, meaning himself, Clary, Alec, and Isabelle had been called to see the Seelie Queen. It was late, and he thought that everyone must be asleep by now.
Seeing bright light seeping through the crack underneath the wooden door of one the extra bedrooms, his brow furrows, lips turning in to a slight, confused frown. He pushed the door open, it hadn't been closed all the way. On the floor, there was a slight girl leaning over a big canvas, an open mason jar of turpentine sitting nest to her. Her fingers were stained a dark indigo, as if she'd been blending paint with them. She was wearing a big gray t-shirt over white underwear, her fire engine hued hair piled in a messy knot on the top of her head. She was on her knees with one hand supporting her weight and the other making swooping strokes with an angled brush, and then blending the shade in to the other paint with the pads of her fingers.
He stood, content with just watching his girlfriend doing what she loved. Her face was peaceful, one of her lips trapped by her teeth. She finished covering the canvas with the swirling, nebula like design and sat back. Carefully, she moved it against the wall to dry over night, moving on to shove all of her other art supplies into the big duffel she kept in the corner. Finally, as she was screwing the cap back on the the jar of turpentine and setting it on the desk, she turned and saw Jace in the doorway.
A smile came to her lips as she looked at the boy, well, man she guessed,  in black, her eyes got brighter and her pupils grew. She wiped her hands on a damp towel, walking towards him. There were a few rogue curls that had straggled out of their assigned spots, softening her expressions. When she reached him, she let her paint stained fingers rest on his chest. They naturally assumed the position that they usually did, her with hands on his chest and hooked around his neck, and him with hands that rested gently on her waist. Although now, one of his hands was toying with one of said rogue curls. Clary looked up at him, internally cursing herself for being so goddamn short, but more than anything admiring the deep golden eyes. Sometimes he still reminded her of a lion, all pride and majesty.
"What are you thinking about?" He asked gently, in a whisper. The hand that had been fondling a curl had migrated to the back of her neck, cupping it in a way that felt quite protective. She smiled a bit more, realizing what she had been thinking about. "How pretty you are.." she responded, somewhat provocative. He smirked. "Well, I was watching you lean over a canvas from behind with no pants on a minute ago, and I can't say it was a bad view." She gasped, swatting him playfully. He cupped her jaw in his hand, pulling her lips up to meet his. There was tingling, like after an electric shock. Clary had thought that she might get used to how it felt, having his hands on her, over time, but so far she'd been proven wrong.
She pulled away, much too soon for Jace's liking, and frankly for her own. "Can we go to your room?" she whispered softly, her lips brushing against him. His eyes widened, and he nodded hastily. She'd always found it curious how, before they'd dated he seemed to be somewhat promiscuous, but he was always very surprised seeming when she initiated sexual contact. Sliding his hand down to meet hers, he led her through the twisting halls of the institute. She scampered behind him, her arm out to maintain the clasped finger hold he had on her. She watched his feet, trying to match his long legged stride and noticed that he was barefoot, frowning slightly. She wondered why he was. She knew that if it was sanitary he would wear his boots in to bed. They made their last turn, a left. His room was neat, as always. His wet boots sat on an old towel in the corner. So that's why he's barefoot, she realized. Clary quickly opened the top drawer of his dresser that had been devoted to her. Inside she kept underwear, a pair of pajamas, and a toothbrush. That's also where Jace had been donating too small shirts to her for a while, and it was filling up quickly. Jace sat on the floor, and reached up to turn the lamp on. With a click, the room with filled with a dim, angelic glow. From the dark wooden drawer, she pulled a pair of soft ivory shorts and a pale blue tank top. She walked in to the small, attached bathroom and changed, pulling her hair out of its messy bun and weaved it in two French braids that coursed down the back of her skull. She tried cleansing her fingertips of their indigo stain, but did not win that battle. With a sigh, she walked back into the bedroom. Jace sat on the ground, fiddling with his cuticles. He brought one of his fingers to his mouth to bite at a sharp piece of skin. Looking up, he saw her standing in the doorway with the backlight of the bathroom making her look like a picture in a magazine. His hand dropped back into his lap, the beginning stages of a smirk playing at the edges of his lips. She walked over and sat in front of him. They sat in a comfortable silence, thick and warm like the feeling of being in bed with all the covers on a cold winter night. He reached out, pulling her in to him and she followed, folding up against him like a paper doll. She was exhausted. They had had a long day. The Seelie Queen had summoned them, and of course, you don't say no to a queen, regardless of whether or not she is your own. Of course, now more than ever there was no reason to trust them, but the Clave wanted to repair that alliance. Clary was just about done with the way she spoke, all in riddles. The beginning of her distaste began when she had ordered her and Jace to kiss. Of course, she wouldn't mind it now, but at the time she had thought he was her brother, and though it didn't change how she felt for him...ugh. A shudder ran through her thinking about the time when it had been forbidden for her and Jace to be together. She buried her face in his neck and inhaled his scent-sunlight and lemon verbena soap, and something almost metallic. The hand he kept on the small of her back rubbed in slow, big circles. She loved the way he touched her, carefully, but not too gently. It was just enough to know that he lost just as much control around her as she did with him. She looked up at him with pure light in her bright green eyes, and looking back at her, his eyes filled with lust and he pressed his lips to hers. The kiss started out slow, but quickly gained ferocity. He licked at her lips, a kind request for entrance but she denied. She was still feeling very provocative. Clary was enjoying teasing him immensely. He whined softly, and she giggled. Then feeling him smile against her lips, she knew he had something planned, just wasn't sure what. She didn't have to wonder for long. Jace bit down on Clary's lip, not enough to hurt her but just enough to make her gasp,parting her rose colored lips. He took this as acceptance and they took to exploring each other's mouths eagerly. Jace's hand traveled out of Clary's hair and down to her waist, fingers dancing over a stripe of exposed skin. To Clary, it felt as if he were setting fires on her skin wherever he touched her. She whined loudly, disliking the fact that he was teasing her back. Jace laughed darkly against her lips. He loved Clary like this, all want, and need, and noise. She didn't always get the power in their encounters, and she wanted it back. Her hands went to the hem of his shirt and tugged insistently. When he chuckled at her, she growled quietly against his lips. "Take...take it off" His eyes widened and he removed his hands from her and yanked his shirt over his head. She followed suit, crossing her arms and pulling off the pale blue tank top in one fluid movement. Jace's eyes got light, and bright, a golden amber, filled with desire. He pulled her tight against himself. Clary's hands roamed his back, feeling the smooth skin covering hard muscle. His hands went up to the clasp of her bra and she reached to the buckle of the golden boy's belt. The belts of the Nephilim were heavy duty, clunky things meant to hold weapons. Clary struggled with it, it was a bit of an enigma with about 3 different mechanisms. Once Jace had gotten the clasp unhooked he reached a down to his own hips to assist her. She sat back, pouting. He quickly slid out of the tight black jeans and hooked himself to Clary so that the crooks of his elbows were under her arms, his long, slender fingers, the fingers of a piano player were stroking the plaited hair fixed to the back of her head. Suddenly very aware of the fact that they were still on the hard wood floor, Clary shifted a little. Reading her movements, Jace hooked her ankles together behind his back and lifted them on to his bed. They sat on the perfectly laid out navy blanket with its hospital bed corners. Clary reached to her shoulders and slid the light pink lace over her freckled shoulders. Her hands explored his golden body. His skin was hot, almost reminding her of the time when there had been seraphic fire coursing through his veins. She shivered a bit remembering Edom, and then gave a small smile remembering the night at the lake in the cave. She laughed against his lips and he pulled back, smiling, but she could sense a hint of annoyance behind his eyes. His eyes...they were dark with desire. "What?" he asked softly, tucking a curl behind her ear. She looked down at her hands, a smile brightening her face. "Why did you bring a condom to Edom?" A soft, rosy blush rose to his cheeks. She reached out, cupping his chiseled cheekbones. He shrugged. "Always be prepared." She laughed, a bright, lovely sound like church bells ringing. Her laugh was his church bells, Clary was his religion, the thing he had faith in more than anything else. He pulled her back against him, whispering softly in her ears. "We should go to sleep." It pained him slightly to say the words. She responded, matching his softness, "I know. I-I know." They both sighed softly. Clary flopped back against the bed. Jace yanked the covers back, crawling underneath and holding them up so that Clary could go underneath them as well. She stuffed her legs in, turning to face the wall. Jace turned so that his chest was against her shoulders, her head tucked under his chin. "I love you, flying death turtle." Clary snorted. "And I, you, but why?" "Because I get carried away with you on the daily," he said quietly, tugging gently on a braid. And with that, they fell into a dreamless sleep with smiles painted on their faces.
Clary and Jace slept late, which was unusual for them. It proved to be an unusual morning for them. Clary woke up before Jace, her stomach turning with nausea. She sat up quickly, throwing the covers off of her and rushing to the bathroom. She knelt by the white porcelain, waiting for it to come. And then it did. She sat there, and let the waves of nausea come, and as they came, she coughed them out. Jace woke up blinking, with bright sun in his eyes. He stood up, yanking on a pair of black and red plaid pajama pants. He noticed the clothes strewn on the floor, aftermath from the night before. That's when he heard a familiar voice groan from the connected bathroom. Jace's eyebrows knit together, and he grabbed the thin tank top from the ground and pushed the bathroom door open gently to see Clary leaning against the wall, with her head in her hands, sitting on the ground next to the toilet. He spoke softly, in almost a whisper, "Oh, Clary." He sunk to the ground next to her, setting his hand on her back and rubbing it in slow circles. "What's wrong, do you need anything?" She opened her mouth to speak, but instead she immediately stuck her head back over the toilet and began vomiting again. Two red braids were threatening to fall in to the toilet, so Jace quickly pulled them back and set them in parallel lines going down her back. "I'm gonna go get you a glass of water, ok?" She sat back again, groaning. Within a minute, Jace was back with a glass of water, breathing heavily. She had put on the tank top and was on her phone. It looked like she realized something and she looked up, with tears in her eyes. "Clary, what is it? What happened?" She shook her head, wiping her eyes with the heels of her eyes. "It's- Its nothing I just hate throwing up." Jace backed down, but she could tell he wasn't really convinced. She took the glass of water and took one large gulp, then stood up to brush her teeth. He went back into his bedroom, presumably to put on a shirt. Clary finished brushing her teeth and walked out. She quickly slid on her old green sweatshirt. God, it had been through a lot. She zipped it up and went over to Jace, who was reading on the bed. His pale hair hung down, covering his face like a curtain. As if he had sensed her, he looked up, an impish grin on his face. She smiled back, sticking her hand out. He took it and gave her a quick kiss on the forehead before they headed downstairs. They walked into the kitchen hand in hand. It was abandoned, dirty dishes in the sink. "Well they've certainly already had breakfast," Clary observed. "Yeah, so nice of them to leave us some," said Jace voice dripping with sarcasm. She let out a small laugh, pulling a baking mix from the cabinet, along with milk and eggs. She took out a bowl, putting a few cups of the baking mix, a half a cup of milk and two eggs and began mixing them together. When it had all been mixed together, she set a pan on the stove and melted a pat of butter into it. She set about to making pancakes. Jace sat at the counter, admiring the way she moved. There was something about her, she looked so small and almost delicate. Jace knew better though. She had to be the strongest person he'd ever met, or would meet. He'd been so sucked away in his thoughts that he almost didn't notice the plate of food set in front of him. He looked up, a grin on his face. She had an identical plate that she set next to Jace's, swinging around the island to the the adjacent stool.  "So," Jace began, a joking tone in his voice, "HAPPY BIRTHDAY!
You're 18, you can finally move in to the Institute!" A wide smile spread across her face. "Yes, yes I can. And thank you." He planted a kiss on her left cheek, taking one of her hands in his. "I've been packed for about two months." He laughed, light and airy. "We'll go over after breakfast and get your things. But, at six you have to go see Izzy." "Why?" He smirked. He had a surprise. Clary hated surprises. "You'll see later."