I've said I would write this sort of story for a while, one with a bit of an age gap one, so here we go. I'd written several chapters, although I did tweak this one a bit after reading this other story, so partial credit to that! It's not edited at the moment, I'll come back and do that tomorrow. Also, this obviously is an age gap story, so if that's not something you're into, then probably not for you.

Disclaimer: I do not own the characters.

Clarissa Fray let out a groan as she opened her eyes slowly.

The sun was really bright.

Why the fuck was the sun so bright?

She had closed her curtains before her and Isabelle Lightwood had gone to town.

She always closed her curtains before she went to town, because she was never in the right frame of mind to do it when she got back, and she knew how bad it was to wake up to the sun coming through the windows.

It was shit.

And it was shit now.

Clary attempted opening her eyes again, and there was a dark head on the pillow next to me.

One; it was a white pillow—stark white, as in, it looked as though it was regularly washed and probably soaked in, like, fabric softener, because the pillow under Clary's head was really soft as well.

Clary was pretty sure there wasn't a single piece of white bedding in their entire apartment.

Or, there might have been at one stage, but they would definitely not be white now.

Two; she didn't usually go for dark haired guys, and also...Long hair. Really long. A little long was okay, maybe even shoulder length, but this hair was so long it disappeared under the blanket.

Three; the sheets were really cozy. And the blanket. And the pillows.

Expensive feeling.

She frowned after staring at the head next to her for a few more beats, before lifting up the blanket to look underneath, and then she realized that it was actually Izzy in bed next to her. That was okay. That was a relief. Her and Izzy slept in bed together a lot, so that was fine. She adored Izzy, and they cuddled a lot when they slept together, and Clary liked cuddles, especially when she was drunk.

Although usually they weren't together in some randoms house.

Clary looked at herself, noted that she was still wearing her underwear, which was great, although she was wearing a light blue v-neck. The shirt was obviously from someone bigger than her, because it was nearly double her size, but it was nice and soft. After glancing around the room, and noting that there were curtains, and they were pulled, but there was a little gap, which was where the sun was coming through. There were side tables that were not scratched at all, and looked as though they were cleaned regularly, because there was no dust on top, and there was a painting on the wall opposite her and a shelf with a few books.

It was a nice room.

It didn't belong to any of Clary's friends, that was for certain, and it wasn't Izzy's parents house, because when they ended up there, they ended up in Izzy's old room, which had blue walls and old glow-in-the dark stickers on the ceiling. And anyway, they only ended up hungover at Izzy's place when they were on the other side of the city at house parties, but they had been in town last night.

Clary sat up slowly, her head spinning, and she closed her eyes as the pain subsided and then turned to put her feet on the ground.

Wooden.

Shiny.

Cold.

Nice.

Her thoughts were coming out almost like a caveman, which wasn't great, it meant that she had probably let Izzy talk her into doing some flaming shots last night.

That was never a good idea.

Clary finally stood up, slowly curling her toes, flexing her legs, rolling her shoulders and then reaching her arms upward. There were a few pops and cracks as she arched her back and then she let her arms fall back at her side with a small smile on her face.

When it came to mornings, there really wasn't much that was as good as a stretch when she had just woken up, other than maybe waking up to a morning orgasm, or leftover pizza from the night before, especially after a night of drinking.

Clary got up and tried to remember how they ended up back at this place last night. Things were a little fuzzy, but as she started thinking about it a bit harder, she remembered them figuring out how much it would cost to get an uber back to their apartment because they had ended up a little further into town than they expected. And then Izzy had said that she would call her cousin, because he had just moved back into the city and he stayed up all hours of the night, so she would see if he could come and get them. Then Izzy had called him and walked off for a bit to find somewhere quiet to speak, and that was when the flaming shots had come into it.

"Fuck," Clary hissed.

The flaming shots had been her idea.

Clary glanced around, and honestly? She couldn't remember getting here last night. She definitely didn't remember undressing and then getting into someone elses shirt, and then she wondered where her clothes were. As she looked around, there weren't any clothes on the ground, or on the chair in the corner of the room. There were no shoes there either.

Maybe their heels would have scratched up the wooden floors?

Clary vaguely remembered being impressed by a black and green car that looked as though it cost triple what she had ever earned in her life time, and then some golden haired guy trying to help her into the back of the car, and he had even stood in front of the door with his arms kind of out, to stop her from flashing the people on the side walk.

She walked out to the hallway and glanced around, and it became clear very quickly that they were actually in a house as opposed to an apartment. The wooden floors were polished and shiny, and there was another painting hanging on the wall that she actually thought was pretty good, before she turned to walk toward the right, since the left let straight down into a bedroom, where she could see a perfectly made, four-poster bed. Her eyes widened as she got to the end of the hall, which opened out to a lounge, dining room and kitchen.

It was gorgeous.

It was, like, a proper, adult house.

And there were windows lining one wall, and it was clear they were on a hill and in an expensive neighborhood, because when Clary looked through the window, there were fancy houses all around them and they had a good view over the city. The furniture all looked nice and new and well looked after and the TV was huge. As Clary looked around, taking in the lounge, and then the dining room and then the kitchen, she jerked a little in surprise as she saw someone standing there, a cup in his hand and a newspaper spread out on the island in the the middle of the kitchen.

The golden haired guy.

Shit, he was pretty.

"Hi," Clary began cautiously.

"Morning," he smiled at her gently, and put down his mug. "Did you want coffee?" Clary's eyes widened and then she let out a groan.

"Oh my fucking god, yes," she nodded her head a few times before groaning and closing her eyes. "I shouldn't have done that," she muttered.

"Yeah, you were pretty...Inebriated last night," he agreed as he walked over to the coffee maker, that was still full. Clary stayed where she was for a moment before coming walking toward the kitchen table, which wasn't too far from the kitchen. She pulled out a chair and then turned around, sliding her ass onto the table and bringing her legs up to rest on the chair. It was a nice chair.

Dark wood.

Wood.

That really seemed to be a thing for this guy.

Wood and glass, based on the big windows.

It was pretty classy.

The opposite of what Clary looked like right now.

She didn't even want to see what she looked like now.

"Sugar and milk?" The guy asked.

"Milk and...Three sugars. Do you have brown sugar? That's always better," Clary replied, pushing her hair out of her face. She still had her rings on from last night, she pulled one off slightly to look underneath and she noted there was a red dent into one side of her finger, from where she must have been pressing down on the finger where she slept. She made a face and then slid the ring back up and wished that she had elastic to put in her hair and pin it back.

"Who says brown sugar is better?" The guy asked with an amused smile, but he was walking to the big pantry and pulling it open. Even from where Clary sitting, she could see that everything was strangely in perfect lines.

Organised probably was the word, not strangely, but given nothing in Clary's apartment was organised, not even Simon Lewis' room, and he was the tidiest one in the apartment.

"Everyone. Everyone knows that brown sugar is better," Clary replied, and that was honestly a bit of an odd question. The guy didn't look like he believed her entirely, but then he was coming over to her, and that was the first time that Clary saw him properly. Her vision wasn't the best, especially when she didn't have her glasses on. Or contacts. But she didn't wear her contacts when she went into town, or her glasses, because she could still see, and she didn't want to lose either of them.

He was really pretty.

Fucking gorgeous, if she was being honest.

A bit older, but not heaps.

And he was dressed really well.

Even though it was early morning on a Sunday.

"Why are you dressed in a suit?" She asked, her upper lip curling. "Have you got a wedding or something?" He looked down at himself and let out a laugh, shaking his head before taking a few steps back to pick up the coffee he had put down on the counter top. Instead of moving back around to the other side where he had been reading his paper, though, he leaned slightly against the counter top behind him and lifted his coffee to take a sip. He wasn't wearing a full suit, just the pants and fancy black shoes and a light purple shirt and a tie. But he would have a jacket, he definitely looked like the kind of guy who brought the whole thing together, not in pieces, one at a time.

Clary glanced to the side, to the end of the table, and over the back of the chair at the end, was a black, suit jacket.

She smirked as she took a sip of her coffee.

"Holy shit," she moaned, closing her eyes and tipping her head back and gave a little wiggle. When she had said there wasn't anything good about mornings other than stretching, orgasms and pizza, she had forgotten about coffee. Good, fresh coffee. "Holy shit, this is amazing." She opened her eyes back up and the guy opposite her was looking her with a strange expression, lips pursed together and eyes looking a few shade darker than they had a minute ago. "So?" Clary arched an eyebrow. "What's with the suit?" The guy blinked and his expression shifted a bit.

"Work," he replied.

"Work?" Clary made a face. "It's Sunday."

"I'm aware of that," he answered dryly and Clary just shook her head and sipped from her coffee again. She moaned again, but not quite as loud, and the guy straightened up, swallowing the rest of his coffee and moving to the sink. He actually washed it straight away, which was something Clary never did. Sometimes she would rinse it, but not properly wash.

"So you're Izzy's cousin, right?" She continued. He turned back to face her, and he actually looked a little worried, eyebrows pulling together.

"Are you saying you don't know who I am?" He asked.

"Well, I remember Izzy saying she would call her cousin to pick her up, and I kind of remembered a golden haired hottie helping me into a car and then I woke up here with Izzy. So I'm guessing you're that guy," Clary shrugged.

"Did you know that when you woke up?" He still had a worried expression on his face.

"Nah," she shrugged a shoulder again and he looked at her, as though he was about to say something, but then Izzy was coming into the room. She'd pulled the blanket off the top of the bed and wrapped it around her, which was a good idea, because Clary's ass was kind of cold sitting directly on thet table. Although Clary had noticed the guys eyes dip to her legs a few times throughout their conversation, so actually, she didn't care.

"Hey!" Izzy's voice was too perky for someone who had gone out last night, but the girl never had hangovers.

It was fucking unfair.

She also had an elastic for her hair.

"You got another elastic?" Clary asked hopefully and Izzy shook her head as she walked over, pressing a kiss to Clary's cheek. "Bitch," Clary muttered, eyeing the elastic that was holding Izzy's hair up, wondering if she could talk her friend into giving it to her since her hair was a little sleeker and easier to manage than Clary's.

"Slag," Izzy replied with a smirk, getting up on the table with her and tightening the blanket around her shoulders. The guy in the kitchen was watching them with a small smile on his face. "So, Jace! This is my Clary. Clary, this is Jace, my cousin."

"Nice to officially meet you," Jace nodded at her, and his smile grew. Clary smiled back at him, tilting her head to the side. He was really well dressed, and when he had come over to her, he had smelt good as well, just subtle, definitely cologne as opposed to some cheap spray. He was wearing a watch, which was weird, because who wore a watch these days when they could just check on their phone, but it was an expensive looking watch. His hair was a little shaggy, he had bright gold eyes, full lips and a strong jaw.

He was really hot.

And rich, it appeared.

Clary raised her eyebrows as he walked back over the coffee machine to get a cup for Izzy, and her eyes dropped to his ass. His pants were clearly tailored because that ass...That was a nice ass, and the pants showed it off perfectly. She sucked the corner of her lower lip into her mouth as he reached forward, his pants stretching a little, and she tilted her head to the side to take it all in. She bet it would look even better out of the pants, but right now, she was happy with her view. When he turned back around, Jace's eyes were on her straight away, and he seemed to know what she had been looking at as he gave her another small smile.

Looking a little amused.

Like he had before.

Clary stared back, not at all embarassed, her smile changing to a smirk.

"I need to get into work," Jace said. "I'll give you a ride home."

"Did you have our clothes for us?" Clary asked she slid down off the table, the hem of the shirt she was wearing falling down to thigh length, and she his eyes dip down to look at her legs. She shifted one of her feet, so that they were parted, and she saw them dip down a little further. She remembered getting changed in the bathroom last night into clothes that her and Izzy had raided from the drawers last night, and they must have just left them on the ground in there. Maybe. She wasn't sure.

"Yes. There's more clothes in the bedroom, just grab whatever you what to wear home. I washed your clothes last night, and put them in the dryer, so I'll go get them. Your bags are still in the bathroom from where you left them last night, so I'll grab them too," he told them, although he was only looking at Clary. She quirked an eyebrow before turning around, and Izzy practically had her face shoved into the mug of coffee. Clary understood.

It was really good coffee.

Jace left the room, and as he walked away, Clary's eyes were on his ass again. She only looked away when he disappeared from view and she looked back at Izzy.

"I don't remember much of last night after the flaming shots," she stated and Izzy grinned.

"Before we went to sleep last night, you said you wanted to climb my cousin like a tree," she responded and Clary let out a laugh.

"Drunk Clary knows her shit," she replied and Izzy laughed again, rolling her eyes as she finished her coffee. "Coz he is pretty." She finished off her coffee as well and went into the kitchen, putting it in the sink.

Jace had brought their clothes out and put them on the table while Izzy and Clary were in his bedroom getting changed. Izzy tied one of the shirts up in a knot under her breasts to make it look a little more fitted, but Clary didn't bother.

She was comfortable in an oversized pair of Jace's sweatpants and the blue v-neck she had on with no bra, since she hadn't worn it with her dress last night.

Maybe she looked a little the trashy stoner in their apartment building, but she was cute, she could pull it off.

Jace had his jacket on when Clary and Izzy came back out, and he was running a hand through his hair, leaving it a little ruffled. Clary watched him from behind, and she couldn't help but think that his shoulders filled out the shoulders really well. He waited for them while holding open the front door, and locked the door behind them once they had gone through. His car was parked out the front and Clary let out a whistle.

"Nice," she murmured.

"You did the exact same thing last night," Jace noted as he opened the passenger side door and then pressed the lever that drew the seat forward so that Clary could climb in the back. Once she had, he moved the seat back and Isabelle got in the front.

On the way home, Clary caught Jace looking at her in the rearview mirror.

Not heaps, like some creepy guys on the bus, but just a couple of times like the hot senior with the big blue eyes last year who came into the photography lab.

When they got back to their apartment building, Jace waited as they got out of the car, and being out in the sun really started messing with Clary's head again, even after her morning coffee. She was pretty sure it was still really early, even though Jace had been all ready to go to work, but her phone was dead, so she couldn't check the time.

Maybe that was why Jace had a watch, she thought idly, in case his phone died.

But a guy who worked on a Sunday and washed and dried their clothes this morning, didn't seem like the kind of guy who would let his phone run out of charge.

"See you next time, Clary," Jace called out, and she blinked as she focused back on him.

"Next time," she gave a wiggle of her fingers and he smiled back, before indicating to pull out into the traffic and then accelerating away. Clary let out a sigh as she turned back to Izzy.

"I want to climb your cousin like a tree," she repeated her drunken testament, and Izzy snorted before grabbing her arm and pulling her into the apartment building.

She was definitely going to be thinking about Jace later on tonight when her head wasn't so sore.

Still with the tie, but maybe without the rest of his clothes.

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