#this sounds like i'm hedging. i am hedging. ask me off anon and we can chat about it!

[geddyqueer]

is there anything you can tell us about the tunnel fic?? i’m so intrigued!!

i'm trying to figure out how to answer this without giving the whole game away! i'll tag it with #tunnel fic so you can scroll the other vague posts about it... which might not tell you much lol. it is my desperate hope that it will be at least a little bit funny.

[eversall]

Hi! Are you still taking Saphael prompts?? If you are, here's mine: "your friend wrote your phone number in a public restroom as a prank and my drunk bff has called you with my phone, i'm so sorry, also your friend is a dick" Ft Simon as the poor guy whose phone number Jace has written in the public restroom and Magnus as Raphael's drunk bff, whose phone he used to call Simon. Hope you like it, but it's ok if you don't ^^ Love your fanfics!

fml this is a really cute prompt and it started out all light and funny and then devolved into serious stuff at the end I AM SORRY I HOPE YOU LIKE IT (also if you were to come off anon and be my friend i would love you forever and also be able to link you on ao3 as the prompter for this fic

if i ever had your number i think i would use it // read on ao3

“Er.” Simon says, but that seems to be enough. “Simon?” Raphael asks. “The one and only.” He says weakly, making jazz hands even though he knows Raphael can’t see them. “Heyyy, Raphael.”“You – why is your number in the Pandemonium bathroom?”.It starts because Jace and Simon get drunk together one night without Clary, and since Clary serves as about eighty-five percent of their impulse control they’re hammered within two hours and ready to implement all of their Very Bad Ideas, the ones that are horrifying enough to make Alec grind his teeth and potentially slap them upside the head.

It starts because Jace is a dick.

Well. To be fair, it starts because Jace and Simon get drunk togetherone night without Clary, and since Clary serves as about eighty-five percent oftheir impulse control they’re hammered within two hours and ready to implementall of their Very Bad Ideas, the ones that are horrifying enough to make Alecgrind his teeth and potentially slap them upside the head.

“Which is rude.” Jace informshim as he gets a tattoo across the side of his stomach. Simon makes anagreeable noise, too engrossed in the delicate line of triangles he’s justgotten tattooed across his shoulders. “How are your triangles doing?”

“I think they’re ready to experience the world!” Simon shouts, gettingto his feet. The tattoo artist doesn’t even look at him as she puts a hand onhis shoulder and shoves him back into his seat. He goes willingly, trying tofigure out what he should name the triangles. Luke, Leia, and Anakin? Frodo,Bilbo, and Sam? So many options!

Anyway, Simon figures that if anyone’s to blame, it’s Clary, because ifClary had been there Jace wouldn’t have gotten the fantastic idea to carve Simon’s number into the tiny piece of wallnext to the mirror in a bathroom at a gay club. Actually, his idea is just tocarve something, and when he asksSimon for any number between one and one hundred, Simon rattles off the digitsto his cell because that’s the only thing he can remember. Jace doesn’t seem toquestion the fact that the number is definitely not between one and onehundred, but instead dutifully transcribes it into the wall. And that’s thestory of how Simon’s phone number ends up in a hidden corner of a clubrestroom.

Well. That’s not the entirestory.

.

Simon’s working late when he gets the call. He’s hunched over a list ofpotential mergers, chewing on the end of his pen as he types in risk analysisand bemoans the fact that his boss is a hardass, and also Simon is hard for his boss’ ass, and isn’t that embarrassing? But he wouldn’t be here if itweren’t for the fact that Raphael asked him to finish these, and Simon sort ofhates the guy but sort of loves him too. It’s – complicated.

Lily, who’s the other data analyst and who he shares an office with,likes to gleefully tell him that it’s not thatcomplicated, and they’ve all got bets going on when Raphael and Simon ‘crackfrom the tension and start banging’, and that she thinks he’s good for Raphael.That’s the hardest part to hear. Simon can take all the innuendoes and thegood-natured teasing, but when people genuinely tell him to go for it he sortof shuts down. Because – nope, there’s no way that Raphael Santiago, a powerhouse of a business mogul, would ever beinterested in Simon Lewis.

He’s lost in his self-deprecating thoughts when he gets a call, and hefrowns as he checks the screen. Speak of the devil – why is Raphael calling himthis late at night? He cautiously takes the call and brings it to his ear.

“Hello?”

“HELLOOOO, I’M LOOKING FOR A GOOD TIME!” A voice shouts down the line-a voice that is definitely not hisboss’. Simon yelps, pulling the phone away from his ear and staring down at it,bewildered, before he brings it back up.

“I’m…sorry?” he hedges. There’s sounds of a scuffle on the other end, amuffled thump, and then –

“A good time!” the voice continues, the words slurred. “That’s why yournumber’s here, right? For a good time?Well, have I got a deal – no, a steal– no, stop it Ra – let go of me, I’mgonna get you laid – anyway my friend Raphael is sorely in need of a good time because he has a stick up his ass so – “

Simon’s having conniptions atthis point. His mouth is hanging open and he’s staring blankly at the screen,trying to figure out how this is his life. The other man’s voice cuts off, andthen starts up again, sounding out of breath like he’s running.

“So listen carefully I need you to do whatever it is you do becauseRaphael keeps mooning over this new employee he has and wow he needs to ask that dude out already so if you could blow himor something and restore his confidence- “

“BANE!” a clearer voice shouts, and oh, that voice Simon recognizes. He winces as the phone makes a staticnoise, more alarming sounds coming from it, before Raphael speaks.

“Hi,” he says, his voice low and raspy and oh God, Simon wants to die rather than have this conversation. “I’m sosorry about my friend, he’s very, very drunk. He found your number in thebathroom at Pandemonium, I don’t know if – “

“My number?” Simon splutters,dropping his pen. “What?”

“Yes. I presume you didn’t know anything about this.” Raphaelcontinues. “I’m so sorry to disturb you – “

“Fucking Jace.” Simon mutters, half to himself, as memories of theirnight out rushes to the forefront of his mind. “Of course he’d do somethingidiotic like that.”

“Jace – Jace Wayland?” Raphael asks, and Simon freezes. Shit, how dumbis he that he forgot his boss doesn’t know he’s talking to Simon? “Do I…knowyou?” There’s a pause on the other end of the line, and Simon closes his eyesand prays dear God please open up a holein the ground straight to the nearest volcano and dump me in there.

“Er.” Simon says, but that seems to be enough.

“Simon?” Raphael asks.

“The one and only.” He says weakly, making jazz hands even though heknows Raphael can’t see them. “Heyyy, Raphael.”

“You – why is your number in the Pandemonium bathroom?”

“So, funny story,” Simon runs a hand through his hair, “You know Jace,one of the legal reps for the Clave – well, he and I went out one night and…hemight have put my number there? We were pretty…out of it, to be fair.”

“Right.” Raphael says, and there’s a strange note in his voice. “Youknow that’s a gay club.”

“Yeah?” Simon frowns. “I know. Who was your friend on the line?”

“Oh, Magnus.” There’s the unmistakable sound of a whoop in thebackground, presumably the Magnus Raphael is talking about. “He ownsPandemonium. He just, ah, is going through something.”

“Poor guy.” Simon commiserates, before something occurs to him withgrowing dread. “Wait, Raphael, Magnus said something about – you having a thing for someone at work.”

“That’s none of your concern.” Raphael says, his voice firm andno-nonsense. Fortunately, Simon’s pretty immune to that voice, because it’salways coupled with that hint of a smile tugging at Raphael’s lips as he looksat Simon, so.

“Oh but it is.” Simonwheedles, his heart caught somewhere between elation and dread. If he finds outtonight that Raphael actually has the hots for someone else, it’s going tosuck. There’s no way around it. But still – isn’t it better to know then to be left in limbo? “Come on,Raphael, I’m bored and I need something entertaining – “

“You’re bored? Go watch one of your ridiculous shows.” Raphaelresponds. “Also, I don’t think my…feelings…are entertaining.”

“There’s no TV in the office, I can’t watch anything. And I didn’t meanto imply anything less about your feelings.” Simon hastens to say. “But, youknow. It’s you! Who has the mighty Raphael Santiago fallen for?”

“The office?” Raphael asks, ignoring the rest of Simon’s sentence.“You’re still at work?”

“Oh. Yeah.” Simon says, shifting uncomfortably in his seat. “Justfinishing up the risk analysis.”

“It’s almost eleven. Go home, Simon.” Raphael says, his voice tired.“I’m sure someone is waiting up for you.”

“Nope.” Simon huffs out a laugh, idly tracing the keys on his keyboard.“I, uh – no one’s waiting up for me.”

“No?” Raphael asks. His voice is quiet now, and Simon almost misses thenext words. “That’s a shame.”

“Right.” Simons says, his voice thick. There’s a sudden lump in histhroat that he can’t swallow around, something nameless and infinitelyterrifying, full of possibilities, settling around him at Raphael’s words. “Um.You?”

“What?”

“Is anyone waiting up for you?”

“No.” Raphael laughs bitterly. “No, I – don’t have what it takes to bein a relationship.”

“Don’t have what it – are you drunk?”

“No.” Raphael is silent for a while before he speaks again. “Just verytired.”

“Then go home and sleep.” Simon rubs a hand over his face, theadrenaline draining out of him as he considers that it really was ridiculous tohope, just a little, that Raphael thought of Simon the same way Simon thoughtof him. “I’ll finish up here and leave soon too.”

“Alright.” Raphael says on the other end, and then he hangs up. Simonstares at his phone for a few minutes before he fires off a text to Jacetelling him exactly where he can shove himself and his drunk ideas. The tattooswere nice, but the late-night phone call from his boss breaking his heart was decidedly not nice.

He shuffles together his reports and stacks them up, regarding themwarily. It’s time for him to go home and sleep off his melancholy mood. Heshuts down his computer and is just grabbing his keys when he hears footsteps.

“Hello?” He calls, cautiously peering out of his office. In the dimlight, he sees someone familiar walking down the hallway. “Raphael? What thehell are you doing here?”

Raphael comes to a stop in front of him, his eyes intense as he looksat Simon. He’s wearing jeans and a leather jacket, and to be honest Simon didnot know Raphael owned anything other than suits. He looks really fucking good, as always, and his usuallyperfectly styled hair is mussed lightly, making him look like he just had sex.Simon swallows.

“You should know what happened tonight.” Raphael says seriously, andSimon frowns.

“I know what happened.” Hereasons. “It’s fine, honestly, Raphael, you couldn’t have known it was mynumber that your friend was calling.”

“He called the number because he was drunk, yeah, but also because hegenuinely wanted me to get my mind off of my feelings.”

“Right.” Simon attempts to smile, but judging by the look on Raphael’sface it came out more like a grimace. “Is everything okay?” Raphael is silentfor a long time, and then he swallows audibly.

“You.” He says to Simon. “They’re feelings for you.”

Simon is floored for a second, unable to do anything but gape atRaphael. The blanket of terror and elation from before is back, crashing intohim. He feels like a string pulled taut, hovering on the edge of a precipice.He never could have imagined that it would be Raphael instigating this.

“Really?” Simon manages to croak out. Raphael nods, and Simon breaksout into a grin. “Oh, thank Godbecause I feel the same way. About you.”

Raphael flinches at thatrevelation. Simon frowns then, taking in the tight lines across Raphael’s faceand the way he’s clenching his fists. “Raphael? What’s wrong?”

“You should know.” He gets out, his voice tight. “When Magnus calledand said those things about…having a good time, and all that – I don’t do that.Magnus wouldn’t even have called and said those things if he weren’t drunkhimself. It was a joke.”

“I figured as much.” Simon says slowly. “But you’re trying to saysomething else here?”

“Yeah, I’m.” Raphael exhales, and crosses his arms defensively. “I’masexual. I’m never going to want sex.”

Oh.

“I feel very strongly about you, Simon.” Raphael continues, his voiceveering into anguished territory, leaving Simon dazed with the amount ofemotion that’s behind his words. “I didn’t think I would ever feel anything aboutanyone, and I was okay with that. Butyou’re – different. And you deserve to be happy. This isn’t how I imaginedtelling you, but beggars can’t be choosers.” He says, shrugging his shouldersand giving Simon a self-deprecating smile. It’s heartbreaking.

“You make me happy.” Simonblurts out, desperate to alleviate the sadness that Raphael is carrying. “Ialways – your sense of humor is really aggressive and it took me a long time toparse out that when you were insulting me or not, but – my feelings for youaren’t based in sex.” He says.

Raphael makes a startled noise and steps back, searching Simon’s facefor something. Simon swallows and stands his ground.

“You – really?” Raphael asks.

“I’m not gonna lie and say that I immediately know what to do aboutit.” Simon says firmly. “We need to sit down and have a long talk about yourboundaries and my boundaries and how this is going to work out, but God – Ilike you. A lot. I want to work it out. I want to try, and I – I mean, do you want that?”

“More than you could know.” Raphael says slowly. Simon reaches out atentative hand.

“Can I…?” he asks, his voice unsteady. Raphael makes a noise and pullsSimon forward, wrapping him up in a tight embrace. Simon slides his arms aroundRaphael’s back, burying his face in Raphael’s hair and sighing contentedly.

“You use too much product in your hair.” Simon mutters, nosing over thestiff strands.

“This is a romantic moment.” Raphael fires back, tightening his grip onSimon’s waist. His voice is muffled as he presses his face into Simon’s neck.“You’re ruining it.”

“I’m making it better.” Simon counters, laughing. Raphael pulls backand looks at him, his eyes warm and trusting as he leans in to brush his nosealong Simon’s cheek.

“You make everything better.” He whispers hoarsely, his voice soft andawestruck.

“So do you.” Simon whispers back, his voice equally as awestruck.

It’s almost midnight, and they’re in a drab high-rise office buildingin the middle of New York. Raphael smells like alcohol and sharp perfume, likethe club he’s made his way from, and Simon’s phone number is still etched intothe corner of a wall somewhere in a public restroom, something he really shouldtake care of. He and Raphael still need to figure out how a boss-employeerelationship is going to work, and they’re standing next to rows and rows ofcubicles. It’s not exactly a fairy-tale romance. It’s the furthest thing fromthat – it’s just them swaying slightly, wrapped up in each other, under theweak fluorescent lights of the office.

But it’s more perfect than anything Simon could have ever imagined,because Raphael is here, in his arms,and that’s enough of a fairy-tale for him.