missthingsplace

1. Izzy

Today, Alec thinks rather giddily with an arm wrapped around Magnus’ shoulders, is unquestionably the best day of his life. 

How could it not be? The numerous threats that have loomed over them over the last few months — over the entirety of their relationship — are gone; most, if not all, of their family and friends have made it out alive; and, most importantly, they’re married. This is their wedding day. Alec’s not usually one for sappiness, but today, it’s well-deserved. 

Magnus grins up at him like he can read his mind and agrees, like he too feels the warmth that fills Alec up with love. They’ve been glued to each other all evening; the longest they’ve been separated today was because Izzy split them up to get them dressed for the wedding, and that only lasted an hour before they were at the altar together. Throughout the reception — including Jace’s hilarious but surprisingly meaningful best man speech — they’ve stuck together, unwilling to let the other one out of sight, and Alec wouldn’t have it any other way. Whenever things got a bit chaotic, because Alec loves his family and tolerates large Clave gatherings but doesn’t exactly adore parties per se, Magnus was there with soft touches and warm smiles that brought it all back down to just the two of them. 

But now, the chaos appears to be winding down — or not, Alec amends, watching Izzy step gracefully up onto the table. Her heels are fully eight inches tall, and he’s not sure how she can put them on, let alone stand up in them, but she doesn’t sway and manages to avoid stepping on any chinaware. 

Silence falls, heads turning in surprise, and when she has enough attention to satisfy herself, Izzy activates a rune on the wall which lights the wall up like a screen reading, in bold lettering, ALEC’S GLASS CLOSET. 

Alec feels heat rise preemptively in his face. This is going to be embarrassing. 

“Hello, everybody!” she declares cheerily. “This has been much more fun than Alec’s first wedding” — she and Jace are taking every possible chance to make digs about that, especially as Lydia is in attendance today; it is nevertheless true that the bright colours and grins on every face beat out the sober, polite, Clave-sanctioned smiles of his attempted marriage to Lydia — “but I think Alec can stand to blush a bit more, so I’ve made a presentation.”

She snaps her fingers, and the screen changes to something Alec automatically recognises as security footage from within the Institute, displaying a younger Alec — perhaps eighteen? — standing in Ops. As the wedding crowd watches, one of the other Shadowhunters turns away, and Alec’s eyes flick down to his ass, then up. Titters break out as the scene changes, to a different camera’s viewpoint, and the same thing happens again, with somebody else; Alec doesn’t want to know how much trawling through camera feeds Izzy’s done to come up with this, but despite the blush staining his cheeks, it is objectively hilarious. 

The scenes move forward in time as the presentation goes on; Alec grows from a still-gangly eighteen-year-old to a broader 21 over the compilation. He’d thought he was subtle about checking guys out, but clearly not; Izzy’s found enough vids to fill minutes, even though each one is barely seconds long. He doesn’t ever check out Jace; it’s not in the recording, but Alec knows that every time he caught himself looking at his parabatai like that, he’d felt a rush of shame strong enough to glue his eyes to the floor. 

Clary and co. show up with a bang — Alec had forgotten about that time he’d checked Simon out, but clearly Izzy’s managed to hack something or other to obtain footage — and it’s only a moment later that Magnus shows up. 

There’s a fair bit of laughter when the videos promptly become a series of shots of Alec admiring Magnus, and Alec thinks he’s probably red up to the roots of his hair. Magnus is laughing along with the rest, though, and Alec can’t help the besotted look he sends him. (Jace, on his other side, mutters something about now they’re doing it again, but Alec quite cheerfully ignores him. Jace has been complaining about their sappiness all evening, but the sappiness in their parabatai bond belies his words.)

The last image is their kiss at the wedding, and Izzy’s beaming as the wall returns to its normal colour. “Jace got to be best man — parabatai rights, yada yada yada — but I’m making my own speech, so listen up.”

The crowd quiets a bit. “As you can see, Alec’s never been as closeted as he thought he was—” she pauses for the sniggers to die down “—but he was never able to be open about it, either. I’d known he was gay for years, but I didn’t dare say anything, and he thought I’d reject him for it if I knew.” 

Alec feels his throat tighten, but with emotion rather than the fear he would’ve felt a few months earlier if he’d known his sexuality wasn’t as secret as he thought. He’s learnt, over the past months, that both Jace and Izzy already knew and that Maryse suspected, but it hasn’t really sunk in yet. Magnus squeezes his hand, and he feels a surge of impossible gratitude for him, for all of them. For the life he has now, in which he can hold hands with the man who’s turned his life upside down in the very best of ways, in which he can lead an Institute and love a Downworlder. 

Izzy’s face brightens into a less serious smirk. “Also, we all noticed that he stopped checking out other guys the moment Magnus showed up, which was really the first sign that it meant something.” The smirk tips sideways into something softer again. “And look at them now — so wrapped up in each other they barely notice anyone else. Jace already said this part for me, so I won’t go on about it, but thank you, Magnus, for loving my brother.”

She steps off of the table — not stumbling, despite her heels — as everyone claps, and the smile Magnus gives Alec makes the whole world brighter. 

2. Maryse

Alec loves his mother, he really does, and he’s incredibly grateful that she’s accepted Magnus almost as her own son, but sometimes he wishes they weren’t quite such good friends. 

For instance, right now, when Magnus has tugged his chair closer to Maryse’s to look at the photo album she’s showing him. A photo album of Alec’s childhood. This is a disaster.

Magnus is, admittedly, cooing, but he is also laughing far harder than Alec’s dignity is happy about, especially when Maryse tells a particularly embarrassing story. Like the one about six-year-old Alec wanting to help Izzy learn to use a whip, trying to steal one from an older Shadowhunter, and getting tangled up in it, at which point Maryse managed to take a picture; Alec admits that he looked ridiculous, but Magnus’ commentary is more along the lines of adorable, which is completely unacceptable.  

(Alec had eventually succeeded in obtaining a whip, learning to use it, and then teaching Izzy; he stopped learning with her once she was well on her way to mastery, and she’s better than him by now.)

“You were so cute as a child,” Magnus tells him, grinning. “You’ve already got that serious little frown, which is still adorable now, but it’s even cuter on such a small face.”

“Shut up,” Alec replies, face brick-red. “Can’t we do something else now?”

Maryse laughs, rather evilly. “But we’ve only seen the one album! I’ve still got two more—”

“Absolutely not,” Alec retorts, glaring at her. “If I knew you were just going to tell embarrassing stories about me, I wouldn’t’ve invited you here.”

“Actually, I invited her here,” Magnus interposes, “and I’m really enjoying learning about how adorable you were as a child.”

Alec continues his staring contest with Maryse. “I’ll — figure out something embarrassing to tell Luke.”

She raises an eyebrow. “Good luck with that.”

“I’ll stop inviting you over to the Institute.” It’s an empty threat, and she knows it. 

“That’s what I have Izzy and Jace for.”

A thought strikes. “I’ll make that stew for you again.” 

Horror spreads on Maryse’s face, and she caves. “…What if I told you a story about Magnus instead?”

Magnus’ brows pinch. “You don’t know any stories about me — or at least, none that Alec doesn’t know already.”

“Is that so?” She raises an eyebrow. “Well, I remember a certain day, twenty or so years ago, back when I was in the Circle—”

Realisation dawns on Magnus’ face, but too late. 

“The circumstances weren’t — ideal” — the shadows on her face bear testimony to the likely corruptness of whatever she was doing — “but I do recall claiming that I wanted to create a better world for myself and my son. Care to say what you replied, Magnus?”

Magnus huffs nonchalantly, but Alec can tell from his expression that he knows exactly what he said and is dreading Maryse’s reveal of it. “Something embarrassing, I’m sure.”

“It was, if I recall correctly, ‘I have no interest in the world you want. Or in your doubtless repellent brat, I might add.’” She’s clearly barely holding back laughter. “Little did you — or I — know that in twenty years, you’d be married to that same ‘doubtless repellent brat’.”

A groan from Magnus, but Alec’s too busy laughing. 

After all, fair’s fair. 

3. Simon

“Sherman!” Magnus greets, smiling. “Lovely to see you, my dear.”

“Not lovely enough to remember my name, though?” Simon returns, sighing. 

“Of course I know your name, Samuel,” Magnus shoots back with a grin. “Come in, everyone else’s here already—”

Alec waves as Simon comes in, then wraps an arm around Magnus’ shoulders as his husband settles down beside him. Magnus relaxes into the touch. Jace, Clary, and Izzy are scattered around the room on Magnus’ various comfortable chairs; Simon takes a spot beside Clary and gratefully accepts the glass of blood Magnus snaps into his hand. 

As the spurt of greetings dies down, Jace returns to the topic they’d been discussing before Simon came in: teasing Alec for being, quote, “a simp for Magnus”. Alec listens with something caught between embarrassment and pride, while Magnus is outright chuckling. 

“See, nobody else is like that about their significant other,” Jace declares, hands waving in the air. 

“I seem to recall using Raziel’s Wish to bring you back from the dead,” Clary points out. 

“Yeah, but Alec said he’d do the same for Magnus.”

“I agree with Jace,” Simon puts in, to the blond’s surprise. “Alec’s hardcore. Remember when he wanted to become a vampire so he could go to Edom to be with Magnus?”

Alec stops paying attention, because Magnus has abruptly stiffened at his side, and he realises that Magnus didn’t know about that whole thing. It hadn’t seemed relevant, since Magnus was safe with no such measures necessary; Alec might’ve told Magnus about it if it came up, but he’d honestly forgotten about the whole thing. 

Clearly, it isn’t quite as irrelevant to Magnus, who’s staring at Alec in shock and disbelief — an expression that Alec has seen before whenever Magnus can’t believe that Alec is willing to do something for him. An expression which Alec is more familiar with than he’d like. Often, his heart aches for Magnus, who’s been burned so many times by so many people that basic common decency seems like something out of the ordinary. 

“You were going to do what?” Magnus hisses, voice low and almost terrified. Apparently, disbelief has given way to anger. 

“Turn myself into a vampire so I could go to Edom with you,” Alec replies, implacable. The others sitting around the room seem to fade away, eclipsed by the man in front of him. “Nephilim can’t enter Edom — or couldn’t, without Clary’s Alliance rune — and I needed to get to Edom, which meant not being Nephilim anymore.”

“You’d lose your runes,” Magnus says, and Alec resists the impulse to say Well, duh. 

Instead, he meets Magnus’ eyes with all the love he holds inside of him, the love that sometimes feels so big and explosive that he wonders if he’ll implode under the weight of it. He never does; this love only makes him stronger. “You’re more important than my runes, Magnus.”

Magnus makes a sharp, cut-off sound, like he isn’t sure if he wants to strangle Alec or kiss him. “More than your parabatai rune? Alec, you didn’t think it through—”

“I thought it through,” Alec retorts. “Losing my parabatai bond would be bad, but I wouldn’t be losing Jace — he’s just as much my brother with the rune or without. Even if I was losing Jace, though—” and Alec hesitates for a moment, not from uncertainty but because he needs Magnus to know how true this is, how much he means it “—even then, I’d do it, Magnus, because you are worth everything.” He knows Magnus, knows that all his life he’s been taught that he is worth less than others, that he’s somehow less important because he can smile and laugh even under the weight of centuries. You are not inconsequential, he wants to say, wants to smooth away those years of pain. He’ll get there eventually. 

For a moment of frozen stillness, Magnus stares at him with that same disbelief rising in his no-longer-glamoured eyes, and then he falls forward to kiss Alec with all he has. Alec holds him close, almost desperately, and pours all that he feels into the kiss. 

Behind them, Clary is reluctantly admitting that what Alec and Magnus have is a bit more, but Alec ignores them in favour of the man in his arms. 

4. Raphael

Dinners with Magnus’ side of the family ought to be more embarrassing for Magnus than they were for Alec — and they usually are, thanks to Cat’s propensity for giving Alec all the best tales of Magnus’ past adventures — but tonight is clearly an exception. 

It starts off well enough: Cat tells yet another story about Magnus in Peru, leaving Alec to wonder exactly how many minor catastrophes Magnus has caused and why it took Peru so long to ban him; Magnus groans half-heartedly and protests, though he knows from experience that it’s hopeless. After Cat leaves for her next shift at the hospital, however, Raphael apparently takes pity on Magnus and decides to do a Maryse: tell stories about Alec. 

The problem is that Raphael is one of the very, very few who know a particularly embarrassing secret. “Have I told you about Alec’s first crush?”

Magnus raises an eyebrow. “I think we all know Alec used to like Jace, my dear boy.”

“That wasn’t Alec’s first crush, though.” Raphael is obviously suppressing an evil grin, and Alec puts his head in his hands. 

Wrinkling his brow, Magnus glances first at Raphael, then at Alec, then back again. “Who was it, then?”

“I’ll let Lightwood tell you.” Raphael leans back in his seat, apparently satisfied that he’s caused Alec’s reputation sufficient damage. He doesn’t even need to keep pressing the issue; Magnus is obviously intrigued, and he won’t let Alec avoid this particular confession. Shit. 

Magnus turns to Alec expectantly. 

Alec huffs and crosses his arms. 

Magnus’ eyes widen pleadingly. 

Alec sighs. He’s never been able to resist those eyes. Magnus beams, and he can’t really regret anything that brings such a bright smile to his husband’s face. 

“Keep in mind that I was eleven at the time,” Alec starts, “and I didn’t have much exposure to guys.” He has no doubt Magnus will be laughing by the end of this, but he’d like to justify himself a bit in advance. 

“Go on,” Magnus says, still grinning. 

Alec sighs again, deeply, but goes on. “I’d caught wind of a vampire and a Silent Brother who’d come to talk to Maryse and Robert. Naturally, I told Izzy and hurried over to eavesdrop, mostly because a Silent Brother seemed like an important guest. The Brother — Jem Carstairs, actually — was telling them something interesting about a yin fen shipment, but I was distracted by the vampire.” Alec gestures to Raphael and waits for the realisation to sink in. 

Magnus’ eyes widen, and he promptly bursts into laughter. “Wait — you’re telling me — Raphael?” he manages between gasps. 

“Raphael,” Alec confirms, lips twitching to echo the smile splitting Magnus’ face. He’s laughing free and light and happy, and Alec can’t really mind the minor embarrassment. 

Eventually, Magnus calms down enough to talk properly. “Alexander, I cannot believe you would do this,” he says, putting on an overdramatic look of utter betrayal. “This entire time, you’ve been after my adoptive son.” 

The vampire squints at the moniker. Alec raises an eyebrow, deadpan. “Yes. I actually married you to get closer to Raphael. That makes complete sense and is definitely something I would do.” 

Magnus loses the battle against another round of delighted laughter, and Alec relaxes back in his chair with a smile. 

5. Lydia

This week has apparently been designated the Embarrass Alec Lightwood Week, because the day after the Raphael revelations (which Magnus probably won’t stop teasing Alec about for years), Lydia shows up for their semi-regular dinners together with yet another story in tow. 

Perhaps it was odd that one of Alec’s best friends in Alicante is his ex-fiancé, but there’s a reason he proposed to her in the first place: she’s a lot like him, in personality and in goals, and he knew she’d make a good co-Head. They probably would’ve ended up hating each other, trapped in a loveless marriage, but as friends, they simply work. 

To Alec, it’s more surprising how well Lydia gets along with Magnus — their personalities couldn’t be more different — but then again, the same could be said of Alec and Magnus. Initially, the relationship between Alec’s husband and his ex-fiancée was mostly swapping stories of Henry Branwell, but it’s shifting to encompass things that make Alec blush. 

“Izzy’s presentation at the wedding was hilarious,” Lydia is saying, grinning. 

“It was!” Magnus beams back. “I knew he was a disaster gay, but I didn’t know he was a disaster gay.” 

“I’d already seen the disaster gay brain in action, though,” Lydia says, and Alec feels a sudden surge of worry as to what secrets she’ll spill. Magnus leans forward, interested. “It was before we met, back when Alec was determinedly closeted — or thought he was, at least.” (Alec huffs.) “Anyway, I suggested we talk to you for some reason or other. Alec said — and I quote — ‘Magnus is, um… quite magical.’” 

Alec buries his face in his hands. 

+1. Magnus

“I have a confession,” Magnus says, rather abruptly, and Alec looks up in surprise. 

They’re in the loft, just relaxing in each other’s company, but something in Magnus’ voice suggests that this is a more serious topic than their previous discussion, a debate over where to have dinner. Magnus’ expression confirms the hypothesis: he’s frowning slightly, a hint of hesitance in his eyes. He’s still sitting half on Alec’s lap, half on the couch, with one arm wrapped around Alec, but there’s nevertheless something uncertain in his posture. 

“Go on,” Alec tells him, when he pauses before continuing. He doesn’t want to push, but Magnus has clearly been working himself up to this for a while, only to hesitate at the last moment; he needs a bit of encouragement to get past it. 

“I… may have lied to you on our first date,” Magnus says, after another moment, eyes darting away from Alec’s. 

“About what?” Alec prompts again. 

“I haven’t — you asked me how many people I’d been with.” Magnus is reluctant, but determined; Alec wonders how long he’s been thinking about this. “I didn’t — well, even if I had had sex with seventeen thousand people, I doubt I’d remember the exact number. As it is, I’ve been with… fewer.”

Alec considers that. He’s never really thought about that conversation, not since he decided it didn’t matter how many people Magnus had been with; as he thinks about it now, though, it does seem unlikely that Magnus knows the exact number of people he’s had sex with, and seventeen thousand is a lot. But that can hardly be the confession Magnus seems so anxious about. 

Magnus swallows, then keeps talking. “I don’t know how well you remember that conversation, but when you asked me how many, I said ‘seventeen’.”

“And then you hesitated, and I assumed you meant seventeen thousand,” Alec agrees. 

“I’ve only been with seventeen people, total,” Magnus says softly. “I know I — I build up this persona of somebody who has sex a lot, and obviously there’s nothing wrong with that, but for me, it’s — it’s just seventeen.”

Alec blinks at him, then quickly wraps an arm around Magnus’ shoulders to pull him closer because there’s an awful terrified expression on Magnus’ face, as though he fears Alec’s going to — to leave him, or something ridiculous like that. “I said it then, and I’ll say it again now,” Alec murmurs into his hair. “I don’t care how many people you’ve been with — or haven’t been with, as the case may be.” 

Magnus relaxes into Alec’s hold, tracing his fingers over his wrist. “I know you don’t care. Logically, at least,” he amends at Alec’s raised eyebrow, because Magnus had certainly seemed worried about Alec’s reaction. “It’s just that… well, because of the way I dress and my sexuality — and, at certain times in the past, because of my skin colour — people tend to assume that I have sex more than I do, even when they don’t deem me some sort of sexual predator. And if I told someone I was with that I don’t have sex that much, they’d be disappointed, or confused, or they’d leave. So I’d lie about it, like I lied to you. I pretended I had sex as often as they all assumed I had. Took control of the narrative, in some sense. Learned to flirt. And the few times I’ve confessed the truth, it… hasn’t gone well.” 

“Camille?” Alec asks, recognising the expression on Magnus’ face. 

“Among others,” Magnus confirms. “She — she said it was unnatural, for an immortal to be such a prude. Said I needed to enjoy life more. Said the only reason she cheated on me was because I was lacking, and if I didn’t understand why she’d cheat, it was because I was somehow wrong.” 

Alec holds him even closer in the momentary silence that follows, hoping that he can convey with his embrace that Camille was the one in the wrong, always, that there was never anything wrong with Magnus. Judging by the soft shudder Magnus makes in Alec’s arms, he got the message across. 

“I am… different, though,” Magnus says quietly, half-muffled in Alec’s shirt. “I mean, obviously there are people — even immortals — who don’t go around having sex (and far more who don’t cheat on their partners), but it’s not like that for me. It’s like — it’s that I don’t want to have sex with a random stranger. I want to get to know them first. It’s only when I already like their personality that I actually feel attracted to them.”

“I’m not going to judge you for that,” Alec says. “I love you. You love me. Everything else is — academic.”

Magnus’ smile is imprinted on Alec’s shoulder. “I love you.”

“I know,” Alec points out, half joking, then becomes serious again. “But have you considered — I mean, I don’t know a lot about it, but I was reading a bunch of mundane articles on sexuality and such, and do you think you could be some flavour of asexual?”

When Magnus raises his head, his mouth is slightly open, and he’s blinking quickly. “I… hadn’t thought of that.” He’s silent for another moment, considering. “I’m not fully ace, since I definitely feel attracted to some people” — he leers at Alec — “but I might be… greysexual. Demisexual, maybe.” He glances down at his fingernails, thoughtful, and the nail polish shimmers as it shifts to the colours of the demisexual flag. 

“And that’s for you to decide,” Alec tells him, gently. “Whichever one you are, I love you.”