Chapter Text
Winters in New York were always something Simon used to look forward to. Clary hated them, with the heaps of snow and the icy roads and thecold, but Simon always felt the most alive when his skin crawled from the biting wind and his nose turned red.
It’s ironic, really. Simon had always loved when his fingers turned so cold they became numb. But now that his skin is permantly frozen, all the warmth having left his body, he hates it.
Simon would forever live in his own personal winter, and there’s nothing fun about it.
But, despite his own sadness, when winter comes around and drapes the streets of Brooklyn in a thin blanket of snow, Simon can’t help but feel excited.
The other vamps, on the other hand, look even grumpier than they normally do. They’re often woken up in the middle of the day by cheering children, playing outside because their schools are closed, and they arenot happy with it.
Simon admits that being a child of the night may have changed his initial love for winter. Loud children waking him up right past noon now really doesn’t feel the same as when they did when he was still human.
Nevertheless, he still can’t wait for the sun to set to get outside and hear the snow crunch under his boots.
At first, he goes alone. The other vampires either hang around inside and take naps because they were up throughout the day or go out to local clubs or diners. He can’t ask Clary to join either, since she’s still set on normal hours and is asleep when Simon is awake.
So his first few trips outside are rather lonely. By the fifth night, there’s actually nothing fun about them anymore. He’s made a pile of snowballs (with his bare hands, no gloves, which Mundane!Simon would’ve found very impressive), a little army of tiny snowmen and three snowvampires, with little sticks to mimic fangs and long fingernails. True masterpieces, every one of them, but there really is no point to be proud of his creations when there’s nobody there to enjoy them.
Simon is too stubborn to give and go back inside, even if he’s bored out of his mind alone. It’s winter and he’s going to enjoy it, even if every last one of his fingers breaks off due to the cold.
On the sixth night he’s just sitting there, the snow seeping through his pants but not his skin, not like it used to. Simon is almost as cold as the snow is now. Which really doesn’t do anything to lift his mood.
“What are you doing outside?”
Simon jumps and turns around, only to find Raphael frowning at him, his arms crossed in front of his chest.
“Just - uh… enjoying the snow,” Simon says sheepishly, making a vague gesture to his surroundings.
“Right… I don’t know if I’m just old, but back in my day ‘having fun’ wasn’t sitting in the snow getting your ass wet.”
Simon rolls his eyes at Raphael and takes a handful of snow.
“Okay, grandpa. Thanks, but I just happen to be having a blast here.”
Raphael does that squint he does, where his eyebrows knit together and he almost closes his eyes completely, his long lashes almost touching. Then he shakes his head and turns around to get back inside.
It’s the first company Simon has had in days, even if it’s just Raphael, and he really doesn’t want him to leave. So, really, the only thing he can do is throw a snowball at his back. Honestly. He has no other choice.
It’s almost comical, the way Raphael turns around. Very slowly, very calculated. Like a predator.
“What did you just do?” He asks, perfectly enunciating every word.
“I - uh… I threw a snowball?”
“Why?”
“Because you seemed in need of one?” Simon offers. If he could still blush, his cheeks would be bright red right about now. But hey, at least Raphael isn’t leaving.
“Careful, fledgling. You don’t want to test me.”
Simon gulps and tries to hide it in a chuckle, waving his fingers in Raphael’s general direction as if to cast a spell.
“Oooh, you’re so scary,” he says, hoping it sounds teasing.
Raphael’s eyebrows shoot up. He opens his mouth to say something, but decides gainst it at the last second. Then he turns back around and plans on walking away again.
Simon throws another snowball and has a third one in his hand before Raphael can look at him.
“Simon, don’t you dare throw that snowba-, goddamnit!” The third snowball hits his chest, leaving a wet spot right between his pecks.
Raphael looks down at his shirt and then to Simon, who quickly scrambles to his feet. Then he pulls up his lip in a snarl and lunges forward so fast Simon doesn’t have time to react. Before he realizes it, Raphael is pressing him into the snow face first, a firm hand on the back of his head.
“Eat snow, Mundane!”
Simon couldn’t keep in the giggle leaving his lips even if he wanted to, and he uses his new found vampire strength to turn them around and straddle Raphael’s hips.
“Not a Mundane anymore,” he reminds his leader smugly. Then he reaches next to his head to take some snow and smears it right into Raphael’s face. He tries to squirm away, but Simon has him pinned to the ground.
“Oh, you’re gonna wish you’d stayed in your grave,” Raphael hisses.
Simon jumps up before Raphael can grab him and the older vampire gets up to chase him down the street. Somewhere along the line he must’ve stolen a snowball from Simon’s pile, because he throws one at the back of Simon’s head and laughs.
It’s not like Raphael hasn’t chased Simon before. It’s part of the training to practise on his speed, but mostly they’d stuck to the hotel.
Outside, though, the chasing is way more fun. Simon never realized how truly fast he was until he sees the streets of Brooklyn blur next to him, until he hears the wind whistle in his ears.
Simon is fast, but Raphael is still faster. He catches up to him in an alley and grabs him by the shoulders, causing Simon to lose his balance and fall onto his back.
Raphael doesn’t even give him the time to stumble an apology before he’s stuffing his face with snow. Simon turns his head in a weak attempt to dodge the attack and grips Raphael’s wrists, but the older vampire is stronger too.
“Truce, truce!” He manages to say before Raphael can stuff his mouth with snow as well. He immediately stops and sits back on his knees, waiting for Simon to do so too.
They sit like that for a few moments, their knees almost touching and both panting even though they don’t have to. Simon notices that the snow has messed up the gel in Raphael’s hair, and it’s curling naturally around his ears.
Then Simon takes some snow and throws it at Raphael. The goose chase starts all over again.
They end up back at the Dumort and go through Simon’s snowball collection in no time, dodging behind cars and dramatically jumping through the air, war cries leaving their lips as if they’re children again.
When they run out of ammunition and the night is coming to its end, they decide to end the war.
As Simon walks over to Raphael, who’s waiting for him by the entrance of the hotel, he realizes with a shock that he’s smiling. An actual, genuine, kind smile. SImon takes pride in the fact that he put it there. Raphael even pats him on the shoulder as they enter the hotel.
“Same time tomorrow?” Simon asks before Raphael can disappear into his bedroom.
The other vampire stops walking for just a second and doesn’t turn around to confirm or deny this idea. Then he walks into his room and closes the door behind him.
The next night, Simon is met with a snowball thrown at his back and a smiling Raphael waiting for him to start a second war.