#blind!alec

Bumping their shoulders together, Jace whispers, “You really like this guy, don’t you?”

The cane goes tap-tap-tap. Alec’s nervousness is showing as he blushes a little. “Yeah, I kind of do. A lot, Jace. I like Magnus a lot.”

Jace stares at him silently. He’s happy for Alec - ever since he realized that his parabatai was gay, Jace feared that Alec would never find true happiness in their rigid society - and yet, he can’t help but feel like he’s losing something. But maybe it’s not really a loss but simply a change. Besides, he would never begrudge Alec love.  

“Well then!” Jace says more loudly, his voice exceedingly and forcefully cheerful, and straightens up, slapping his knees. “That means we need to take some very drastic measures, my dear parabatai!”

The cane stills and Alec turns to him suspiciously; Jace can see his own too bright a face reflected in Alec’s sunglasses. “What drastic measures?” Alec asks.

“Remember when we realized that not even our bond could give you back your sight permanently? We agreed to use our ability to share my sight only as a last resort, only when there would be no other choice, since for you to see, I have to be blind. Remember that?”

“Yeah,” Alec says slowly, face still suspicious.

“But!” Jace continues, one finger raised even though Alec can’t see him. “We also agreed that there would be one exception to this rule, that when you met someone you became smitten with--”

“I’m not smitten!” Alec protests.

“Infatuated, then?” Jace corrects himself cheekily.

Alec hits him with his cane.

“Alright, alright!” Jace laughs. “Stop hitting me! We agreed that once you met  The One,” he says and waits for another thump with the cane - but this time, it doesn’t come, so his voice softens a little as he continues, “that when you found him, I would share my sight with you so that you could take a look at him.”

Alec’s breath catches in his throat and he has to fumble for his cane because it falls out of his hands. “I… you don’t… it’s not necessary, Jace,” Alec stutters.

“I think it is,” Jace says, his voice still soft. Then he clears his throat to cover up his emotions and adds, “I mean, what if he’s ugly? What if Magnus looks like a toad?”

Alec frowns at him. “He doesn’t.”

“He might.”

“He doesn’t.”

“But he might!”

“Then I won’t care because I’m not shallow. I did become your parabatai, after all,” Alec replies archly.

“Ouch, harsh!” Jace protests, dramatically grabbing his heart.

For a moment, they both just sit there, the offer hanging in the air between them. Alec’s cane goes tap-tap-tap again while Jace’s waiting him out. He knows that Alec’s made his peace with his blindness a long time ago - but he also knows just how much Alec wants it, to see Magnus at least once! And Jace can give him this. It’ll never be enough, but it’s something.

“You really don’t have to do this, Jace,” Alec murmurs.

Jace bumps their shoulders together. “I know. But I want to.”

Alec smiles in Jace’s direction and reaches out to squeeze his arm in a silent thanks. “Alright, then. Let’s do it.”

Jace feels his heart swell. And so, to lighten up the mood as he’s wont to do, he leans in and whispers, “Just in case Magnus does look like a toad?”

11 pm is when Isabelle gets irritated with the neighbors starting early. The door of the kitchen creeks when she opens it, yelling “GET A DAMN CLOCK! YOU’RE TOO EARLY!” into the night. Cold air brushes Alec’s ankles. He turns his ear towards the door, curious if his sister would march up the metal steps to the terrace to pass judgement on those that start the new year an hour too early. The first trace of burned gun powder reaches Alec’s nose. His mother’s steps are right behind his sister’s voice. A hand softly passes through Alec’s hair when the steps reach him. He knows that. She always does that and he likes it. It’s a way of looking at him, that he can see.

11:30 pm is when Max starts counting the minutes loudly and demands his father’s watch because it has numbers that glow in the dark. Isabelle is back from the terrace, this time their mother’s voice is right behind Izzy’s steps.  “Language, Isabelle, please. We still have to live next to these people the next year.”

11:15 pm was something new though. Max’ voice rang through the kitchen. The dishwasher closed and his father sighed. “15 MINUTES! LET’S BLOW THE BACKYARD UP!” “MAX!” Robert’s voice was funny when he was shocked because it was usually so dark and a simple river of ultramarine, but when something startled him there was yellow splattered all over the blue and it always made Alec laugh. Hurried footsteps to the front door. The cold air began creeping into the room, but Alec was still warm and glowing from dinner. 

“You want to get a jacket and go up to the terrace?” The voice was soft and green right next to his ear. It belonged to the hand gently squeezing his upper arm. Alec could taste his heartbeat right on his tongue, so he only nodded because his words drowned in the silence of the now almost empty kitchen. 

Magnus got up from the place right next to him. Three steps to get around the table, two more to walk into the next room, three smaller ones. Looking for his jacket? A soft “Ah, there.” Rustling of fabric. Four steps back. Magnus’ shoes sounded different on the tiled floor of the kitchen then the ones of his family. 

Alec always wore the same jacket on this night. It was one of his fathers’ work jackets, it was warm and too big and Isabelle had told him it was neon colored; orange with yellow stripes. ‘So, we will never loose you in the smoke we create on the terrace.’ 

“Looking good, my friend,” Magnus announced when he helped Alec into the jacket and eventually zipped it up in the front. Alec liked the sound of the zipper because it went so easily. It was one steady sound, a system working without flaws. 

“You know that I can put on a jacket by myself, right?” 

Alec couldn’t help but chuckle when Magnus pulled a scarf around his neck neck and tucked it carefully into the collar of the jacket. His fingers only ghosted over the skin of Alec’s cheeks for mere seconds, but it was enough to have a new wave of heat and red bubbling up in his chest. 

“Sure I know, but I promised to take care of you tonight and that’s what I will do.” Magnus put extra emphasis on each word in that kind of sing song-way and Alec always felt like he was wrapping a bow around the words. It made him grin, because he couldn’t help but imagine Magnus with a big golden bow around his head. “And if it makes you smile like that, I will take care of you for the rest of my life.”

His voice was closer now, warm and intimate. The gold molted, brimming with heat that washed over Alec’s face sinking into his skin. There was the picture of a chandelier at the back of his mind and Alec didn’t know why. He carefully raised one hand in front of his chest, spreading the fingers out towards Magnus and he took it, like he had done so many times already. And still not often enough. 

Together they took the metal stairs up to the terrace. 

Isabelle wasn’t cursing anymore and the night was alive with the high whistling of early fireworks. Garfield was probably watching the spectacle through the window in Alec’s room or still sleeping on his bed. It was the only night he always had off.

Maryse handed them champagne glasses with orange juice. They never drank alcohol on Silvester, but they filled high quality orange juice into fancy glasses because it was an important night. Alec could feel the thin glass against his fingertips, the texture of the stem that always had some kind of different pattern, running the fingertips of his other hand along the sharp edge on the top. Never sharp enough to cut. 

With Magnus by his side they moved away from where Isabelle and Max had put up the bottles with the rockets all ready to be fired. “Two rows with green bottles,” Magnus described while cautiously pulling Alec’s back to his chest. “Some are still empty. They point towards the neighbor’s house, but it looks like they will fly in a high enough curve to pass over the roof. Three rockets are in the big flower pots on the right side of the terrace and your brother seems to be having a discussion with your father about who will have the lighter.”

Alec felt a broad grin on his face. “That’s the same every year.” Some things didn’t change. Some things would stay the same, even in the new year. And there was nothing bad about it. 

Alec leaned back against Magnus, paying close attention to not the delicate glass in his hand, but knowing his mother she wouldn’t have put too much orange juice into them.  In the new year Alec would still be blind, but no matter how many people made confused sounds when he told them about it, his world would never be black. He wouldn’t be lonely because his heartbeat would keep whispering in his ear, because the voices of his family would keep touching his skin, because life was more than seeing and because ‘seeing’ was more than opening your eyes.

The seconds before midnight were Magnus’ voice in his ear, his warmth against Alec’s back, his breath on Alec’s cheek as he counted, his lips swallowing one second after the other. “Ten, nine, eight, seven ...” Usually there would be his mother’s voice next to him, and maybe it would be the first new thing of the new year.

12 pm was the excited “HAPPY NEW YEAR!” of his sister, the “BURN!” of his brother, the disbelieving laughter of his father when the first rocket sang her high-pitched song without it finding a sudden end by hitting the neighbors rooftop. 12 pm was the kiss on the forehead by his mother and the soft “Happy new year, sweetheart. Stay awesome.”

12:05 pm was the crushing hug of his sister. The taste of orange juice on his tongue, the hurried steps of his brother, his excited voice carrying across the terrace “This one’s for you, Alec!” and then the myriad of little explosion, going off fast after another, directly followed by high pitched notes, another round of explosions. Magnus' voice was back at his ear describing what colors illuminated the night and how they reflected on Max’ glasses, how the tense line of Robert’s shoulders slowly relaxed after no spark had flown to far.

“THANK YOU!”, Alec yelled back at Max.  “He made a salute,” Magnus chuckled so very close to him.  

12:10 pm was the gentle press of lips against the skin below Alec’s ear. It was a hug that was so very different from everything else. It was the closest Magnus had ever gotten to nervousness. 

“Happy new year, Alexander.”

The next rocket went off, but Alec’s mind was ringing with those four words, not the words really, with the sound of them, the voice that painted them featherlight all over his heart. A giddy smile burned on his lips in all the right ways. 

“Happy new year, Magnus.”