#highwarlockofhell

She smiles at that, a short press of her lips together, like it’s an inside joke between them of sorts. And it is - between all the sneaking around and secrets and dying, it’s almost funny.

“He didn’t do anything, I swear. But this is kind of about him, I mean-”

Alec can see the way her hands ball into fists in frustration at her sides and he stands, now alarmed. There’s something under his skin that tells him this is bigger, more personal and visceral than anything they’ve talked about before. “Come on, sit down.”

He leads Clary over to the couch across his desk and she plops herself down between the large beige pillows, almost drowning in them with how small she seems right then and there, her shoulders heavy with her burden.

Alec perches on the edge of the coffee table across from her, resting his elbows on his knees. “Talk to me, Fray,” he says quietly, his tone soft to coax out the words she’s having trouble with.

Tucking her legs under her, Clary looks at Alec for a moment, before asking, “How did you know you were gay?”

That’s definitely not what Alec expected to hear - he frowns, at first at a loss of words. It almost feels like an elaborate prank, but Clary looks completely serious, almost worried in a way, which makes Alec tell the truth sincerely, leaving out the biting sarcasm curling around his tongue.

“Well, I’ve always felt I was different when it came to that. It was never a big lightbulb moment, just small things that added up until I couldn’t longer hide from the reality of it all,” Alec pauses, staring somewhere into the distance as he gathers his thoughts. Without realizing, he’s rubbing his fingers together, digits running over scarred knuckles. “When people would talk about romantic stuff, about dates, partners and marriage, I could never see myself with a girl. It didn’t feel right.”

As much as he initially wanted to, he could never force how he felt - being married to a woman, having sex with her, even being attracted to women in more than aesthetical ways, it all seemed a hoax, an uncomfortable and anxiety-inducing lie. It was forced upon him, introduced when he was still young and impressionable, repeated until it stuck with him, until he started to believe it like it was the truth.

“And how can someone know if they’re... not straight?” Clary inquires again, aiming for only mildly interested and missing the mark completely. She seems to be skirting around an issue, clearly avoiding key words that might lead Alec to the right conclusion.

“Why are you asking?” Alec responds, a small inkling of what might be happening already forming in the back of his mind.

Clary licks her lips, picking at the loose thread on her torn jeans.

“I’ve been feeling strange lately.”

“Strange how?”

“Jace and I have been together for a while now, but recently I don’t… it’s difficult to explain.” Clary bites at the inside of her cheek, eyes downturned. Usually, despite her small posture, she’s all attitude and snark, even in her lowest moments, so seeing her this quiet makes Alec feel disconcerted.

“Take your time,” he announces and stands, walking over to the electric kettle tucked into the small space behind his door. From experience, he knows that sometimes it’s easier to speak when out of the spotlight so he lets Clary have that sort of freedom. He leaves his back turned, busy with making them some tea if just to hold something warm and soothing.

“I don’t know what I feel anymore. Jace and I have been through so much, at first dancing around each other to end up as siblings, which is fucked up if you really think about it,” Clary chuckles to herself and Alec allows himself a smile, remembering the conversation he and Jace had about it what seems light years ago. After a quiet pause, she continues. “Now that we’ve finally gotten together, I thought I was feeling strange, because Jace didn’t want to have sex with me- sorry, that’s probably too much information about your brother.”

This time, it’s Alec’s turn to laugh quietly. “We’re supposed to be parabatai, I’ve heard much worse things,” he assures, turning back for a moment to give her a pointed look that she replies to with a sympathetic wince.

The kettle burbles, signaling the water’s boiling and Alec prepares two mugs of green tea, just the hint of mango raising into the air.

“So, I thought I was just subconsciously feeling unsure, but then he started to really invest himself into this and-”

“Invest?” Alec prompts, handing one of the mugs off to Clary. He perches on the table again, careful not to spill any tea on himself - the suit he’s wearing is new and he’s got a date tonight, sue him.

“He told me he loved me. And I haven’t said it back so far.” Clary’s voice goes quiet as she speaks, the last few words coming out as barely a whisper; her eyebrows are drawn together, expression tight. Alec’s not an expert in reading people, but it’s clear enough she’s feeling guilty about it, worried perhaps. And he’d sigh, say ‘oh, straight people’, but he’s got an inkling that’s not entirely correct.

“Oh,” he hums, takes a sip of his tea.

“Yeah. Then he took me out on a date, a real one, and the feeling didn’t disappear. Instead it got stronger and I realized it’s not about Jace, but about me,” Clary sighs against the rim of her mug, eyes downcast. “I feel like I have to do it, everything that a girlfriend does, but I don’t want to. It was similar with Simon, we did everything, but it didn’t feel right.”

He doesn’t want to say it, but he does anyway; it hurts a little bit. “Like sex, for example?”

“Mhm. I thought it was because we were childhood friends, but-” Clary hides her face in her hands for a couple of seconds, growing more and more frustrated, her voice turning louder until she’s almost yelling. “I care about Jace, I like him, but I don’t want to lead him on and I just- I don’t know! I don’t know what I’m supposed to be!”

She sets her cup down with impact strong enough to probably shatter it and stands up, strands of hair flying in her face. Alec stands after her, hands outstretched in an attempt to placate her outburst. “Hey, hey, it’s okay.”

“Sorry, I shouldn’t have said anything, I’ll just go,” she mumbles, trying to push past Alec, but he grasps her elbow, gently but with enough force to stop her from leaving.

“Clary, come on. We can work this out,” he pleads, dipping his head down to catch her eyes. She holds his gaze for a moment, as if she’s looking for something; she seems to find it and settle, let go of the tenseness in her body. They sit again and this time Alec’s on the couch as well, turned to face Clary. “Okay. How do you feel about men?”

The question sounds stupid when said out loud, but he considers the most simple way will be the most effective. As much as people see him as some sort of a pioneer in gay things in the Shadowhunters’ world, he’s still new to everything himself. He’s never had this kind of trouble when coming to his own identity, but he can do his best to help Clary figure hers out.

“They’re… nice? I mean, I can see they’re handsome and being with one sounds good in theory. I want it, until I get it and then it’s just… there.”

That’s strike one. Alec nods, remembers Izzy telling him about compulsory heterosexuality; he makes a mental note to himself to tell Clary about it later, or maybe direct her to some information. Leaning over to grab his cooling tea, he asks casually, “What about girls?”

Clary gives a noise that could be interpreted as flustered, followed by a soft chuckle.

“I try not to stare, but they’re so pretty. When I was out with Jace, we bumped into Maia and Simon and I couldn’t stop staring at her - the way she moved and smiled and just… everything about her was attractive. Same with Izzy, she always looks amazing no matter what she does.”

Strike two. Alec tries not to imagine his sister with Clary.

“Would you like to kiss a girl? Can you imagine yourself doing so?” he questions instead - from his own experience, even the most harmless fantasies are usually a good hint as to what’s going on; even before Alec admitted to being gay to himself, he’s caught himself thinking about what was ‘forbidden’ back then way more than once.

Clary blinks thoughtfully, her eyes staring somewhere into the middle distance. “I-, yeah, I think I’d like that. Lately, I’ve been catching myself looking at girls, thinking about how their hands would feel in mine, how it would feel to-” Suddenly, Clary straightens up, lips still open around the aborted sentence.

Strike three.

“You’ve found your answer,” Alec smiles, something akin to pride settling in his chest.

Clary nods enthusiastically, her eyes wide.

“I think I’m a lesbian,” she announces with gravity to her tone, just the slightest hints of a smile curling at her lips before they fade in favor of slight panic.

Alec knows how confusing it is to discover your world turned upside down - sexuality and attraction play a big part in everyone’s identity, so finding out something has shifted is terrifying, especially when there’s no one to turn to. Alec has tried to keep himself in the confines of the person he was supposed to be, has tried to keep himself from suffocating in all of the lies, in the fake smiles and every thought meant to make him adhere to society’s rules. He’s been alone for most of his journey, having to fend for himself and figure everything out on his own - he wouldn’t wish that on anyone.

“And that’s okay. I know it’s scary and confusing right now, and it will be for a while. You’re gonna have doubts - are you gay enough? Are you gay at all, or are you just fooling yourself into feeling different?” Alec rests his palm on Clary’s forearm, squeezes slightly, and sends her a reassuring little smile. “Don’t rush it. There’s no right or wrong way to be gay, no perfect way to come out to your people when you feel ready. You’re on a journey, a wonderful, one-of-a-kind, terrifying as hell journey.”

Clary chuckles as two sparkling tears race down her cheeks, hanging onto the line of her jaw. She wipes them away hastily, but keeps laughing, the sound coming out happy despite the watery note. “What would I do without you, Alec?”

He shrugs with a grin. “Probably something stupid, like usual.”

She rolls her eyes and stands up again - Alec follows. They move through the room and towards the door; when Clary has her hand on the handle, she turns back to Alec with a smile that he returns easily.

“What a day, huh?” she asks, scrunching up her nose, just the slightest bit of awkward.

“I might be the resident gay guy around here, but I’m sure Izzy, Magnus or even Aline wouldn’t mind talking to you about this if you have questions. My door’s always open too.” Alec pushes one of his hands into the pocket of his suit jacket, watches Clary rub the edges of her sleeves over her cheeks to get the rest of the wetness off, her expression sheepish.

“I’ll remember that. And… thank you so much.” Clary reaches out, puts her palm on Alec’s shoulder and he covers it with his own for a couple of seconds, accepting the thanks with a slow nod; there’s really  nothing to thank him for, he’s just looking out for his people.

“Go, take the rest of the day off. Just try to not get into trouble, alright?”

“You got it, boss.” Clary salutes Alec and leaves, her steps bouncing back as an echo down the corridor until they fade into a soft sort of silence.

Alec shrugs off his jacket and tosses it onto the blue armchair, rolling his shoulders. He can feel a headache coming on, a slight throbbing in his temples, probably as a result of Lorenzo going on and on about every portrait of him and all the various ways each artist has captured the essence of his smile; people bickering around him all day and questioning his authority perhaps had something to do with it as well.

“What about a martini, a hot bath, and a steak, medium rare?” Alec offers, coming up behind Magnus to set his palms on his shoulders, kneading the tense muscles there.

A noise akin to a moan wrings itself out of Magnus as he pushes into Alec’s touch, eyes dipping closed with bliss.

“You read my mind, darling. But the bath comes first, I feel like I got hit by a bus.”

“Pure angelic power can do that to you,” Alec chuckles, pushing his thumb into a very tight knot of muscle in the junction of Magnus’ neck. “You sit tight, I’m gonna go and start the water.”

Alec kicks off his shoes and heads to the bathroom, turning the knobs until steam starts rising from the water and then adds in the bath soaks and essential oils. The scents mingle together, creating a lovely aroma of flowers and herbs. When he turns back, Magnus is standing at the entrance, shoulder pressed against the doorjamb, his eyes half-lidded and a soft smile on his face.

“Go ahead, I’ll be right back,” Alec says and Magnus nods at him as he starts to shrug out of his suit jacket with a grimace.

Socked feet padding across the floor, Alec beelines for the apothecary and towards the second-top shelf in the corner of the room. He’s looking for a small, jade-glass bottle with a dropper on top - he finds it way in the back, still half full.

Magnus is already halfway through unbuttoning his shirt which halts Alec’s steps as he decides to just enjoy the moment. Hearing a noise, Magnus looks up with the hint of a smirk playing on his mouth.

“Enjoying the view, are we?” he quips, making quick work of the rest of the buttons and slipping out of the shirt to hand it over to Alec.

“Don’t mind me, go on,” Alec chuckles, folding the shirt haphazardly to deposit it on top of the laundry hamper. Unsurprisingly, his gaze drifts back to the expanses of Magnus’ chest, tempting Alec to run his fingertips against Magnus’ sternum and down his stomach.

“How about you join me? The bath’s big enough for two,” Magnus proposes with feigned innocence, shrugging one shoulder as he works on undoing his pants - it’s a bit more difficult to do without magic (and when the belt buckle is in the back).

Alec holds his breath for a moment, tempted by the suggestion. He should catch up on reports for the day, consult Izzy about the demonic possession footage, but Magnus is right there to hold and the water looks so deliciously warm that he can’t help himself; he breathes out.

“I could use some down time,” Alec aims for an unaffected tone, but Magnus sees right through the facade, raising one questioning eyebrow. Alec rolls his eyes fondly. “Oh, shut it.”

Magnus breathes out a laugh as Alec steps closer to him, deft hands helping to set the buckle free and tug the belt out of the loops. This close, Alec allows himself to look, to take in every line and curve of Magnus’ body, the way the late afternoon light makes his skin glow better than any highlighter he has on his vanity.

This is not about the sexual kind of closeness, not this time - it’s about the feeling of safety, winding down in the presence of the person you trust with your life, letting the walls down, figuratively and literally at once. It’s about taking care of each other.

Magnus’ wide shoulders are slumped slightly and he seems ready to fall asleep across any horizontal surface when Alec grabs his hands gently where they hang at his sides, aware of the sore spots magic has left behind. “Take some of my strength.”

Magnus pulls his eyebrows together and tilts his head in a half-aborted headshake.

“Alexander…”

“Come on, even a little bit, just so you can get your mojo back quicker,” Alec insists, running his thumbs over the blue veins on the insides of Magnus’ wrists.

With the first touch of magic, Alec shivers as it tugs on his core - it’s not uncomfortable, per se, but it’s a strange feeling nonetheless, like an incorporeal arm reaching up along his spine, careful fingers searching his body for angelic power. By now, it has become somewhat familiar to him, the sensation of Magnus’ magic being something Alec’s soul leaps toward without a second thought.

Magnus takes a deep breath, already seeming more awake than just moments before as the energy continues to trickle between them through their linked hands. It slows to a stop and Magnus tilts his chin up to brush his lips against Alec’s. “Thank you.”

“This, as well,” Alec murmurs after they kiss, pulling the little potion bottle from his pocket and holding it up for Magnus to see.

Magnus opens his eyes, then purses his lips when he recognizes his own concoction, clearly labeled with curled handwriting.

“My rejuvenation serum? How did you know where it was?” he asks, seeming positively surprised and almost impressed, even with a task as simple as this.

“Well, I listen to you, believe it or not. Also, I spend a lot of time in the apothecary with you.”

Alec hands it over, watches Magnus uncork it and deposit two drops of it on the back of his hand before licking it off. He scrunches up as his nose at the supposedly bitter taste and Alec can’t help but smile with fondness.

“I don’t doubt that, you do tend to stare at my lips quite often.” Magnus sets the bottle aside after sealing it up and gets back to taking off his clothes without a hitch in their conversation.

So, he has noticed.

“I don’t stare, I appreciate,” Alec balks at Magnus’ words, huffing as he pulls his henley over his head, dropping it onto the floor. “And you can’t blame me, really, since they’re so lovely.”

Alec is just telling the truth as it is - he’d kiss Magnus constantly if he ever had that option. And it’s not that he doesn’t pay attention, since he always values what Magnus has to say; sometimes his eyes just drift down to simply watch his boyfriend talk, to follow the curve of his lower lip as he pouts, lost in his own thoughts, or learn over and over again how they stretch into a smile, so tantalizingly close.

Magnus pauses, fingers hooked into the hem of his boxer briefs. “But are they more exquisite than Lorenzo’s fabrics?” he teases, his voice tinted with laughter.

“Magnus, I was winging it! He didn’t exactly give me much to work with,” Alec explains as he tugs his legs free from the confines of his jeans, having to take a step to the side to prevent himself from toppling over. “Well, until he started talking about himself being used as a baby model by an artist.”

At that point, Alec was just guessing his answers - apparently he had luck on his side, since that baby looked nothing like Lorenzo himself.

“El Greco?” “Yeah, how did you know?”

Magnus stops the water before the bath fills up too much and dips his fingers in, testing the temperature. His back is turned to Alec, but he can hear the disdain in Magnus’ scoff loud and clear. “Because he tells that story to anyone who has the patience to listen.”

He does seem like the type, Alec thinks. It took them maybe twenty minutes just to go through one room and he’s not even sure how many more there were. In some sort of way, Magnus making noise saved Alec from further extensive Lorenzo Rey history lessons.

“I thought he was going to talk my ear off about all of his antiquities! Your loft isn’t modest by any chance, but Rey’s just showing off with that mansion chock full of expensive crap.”

Almost simultaneously, they both tug their underwear down and step into the water, holding onto each other for balance.

The water feels blissfully hot against Alec’s skin, washing against his calves in little waves as Magnus sits down by the more rounded edge. He motions for Alec to come closer and moves them around until Alec ends up with his back pressed against Magnus’ chest, and with curious fingers tracing paths through the dark hair on his chest.

“Oh, I know! He’s always been like that, loving any attention coming his way. He thinks he’s the Jay Gatsby of warlocks.” Magnus’ voice resonates straight through Alec’s torso and he can already feel his own stress draining away - the problems with the Institute, the Greater Demon case - nothing exists in that very moment, just Magnus as a solid weight behind him and the water around them, tinted a faint purple with lavender.

Alec imagines Lorenzo in a Gatsby get-up, having read the book back in the days when he had free time, but then another, better fitting character comes to mind. Alec smiles to himself, a laugh bubbling up in his chest at the vision of the new High Warlock in a sparkly 20s’ dress.

“In reality, he is more of a Daisy, who also needs to hang back on the hair pomade. That ponytail is slicker than his attitude.” Alec tips his head back onto Magnus’ collarbone, as Magnus laughs shamelessly at the jab, making the water ripple around them with each breath; it’s Alec’s favorite sound.

He closes his eyes for a moment, tangling his fingers with Magnus’ and pulling their hands to rest on his stomach. Then, he adds, “He is so full of himself, he didn’t even realize I was just buying you time with the compliments.”

“Such an ass. And you did so well, my dear. I’ve never heard you talk with such passion about ceilings!” Magnus nods exaggeratedly, poking fun at Alec’s ‘professional’ acting skills; for how long he’s been a Shadowhunter, anyone would think he’d get better at acting, but alas it’s never been Alec’s strong suit, leaving him slightly panicked and searching for topics to grab onto. Considering the sudden circumstances of their heist, Alec is still proud of keeping his cool long enough around that pompous buffoon.

“I had to improvise somehow, I couldn’t let him see you making faces from behind his fancy couch. But you would make an excellent spy.”

Magnus chuckles, dropping a kiss on top of Alec’s messy hair that probably still smells like sandalwood. “We should start our own detective agency - Bane & Lightwood, here at your service. For the right price, of course.”

It’s a nice thought - Alec and Magnus, working together, solving crimes and helping people in need; kind of like they do now. Maybe in the end, their lives wouldn’t turn out so differently.

“That’s our retirement plan, then.”

It’s both casual and monumental, hanging in the air between them. Magnus stills above Alec, his chin resting against Alec’s head, who can sense him tense up a bit, before relaxing back into the water.

“I’m already looking forward to it.” Magnus’ voice snags on one of the words, gaining confidence as he finishes his sentence, having made up his mind about whatever thoughts he chooses to keep private for now. “I appreciated your help today. I would rather have you safe and sound somewhere else, but you being there with me meant a lot.”

Alec is glad to see Magnus open up more about his thoughts and feelings, as it allows them to understand each other better. Sometimes it’s easier to leave certain things unspoken, but they’re trying to go against that, to keep themselves open instead, to allow themselves comfort, understanding, and honesty - the cornerstones of a relationship to outlast time itself.

“Of course. I told you, I go wherever you go and if it means into danger, then so be it. I’m not leaving your side, never again,” Alec confesses, squeezing Magnus’ fingers between his.

“Have I mentioned how much I love you?” Magnus chuckles, tightening his embrace around Alec and making something warm bloom in his chest. Alec laughs as well, closing his eyes.

“Come in,” she answers, a subtle sort of excitement blooming through her chest. She hasn’t had the chance to see him properly lately, as they’ve both been busy with respective work; it would be a lie to say she doesn’t miss him.

The door creaks open and Alec pokes his head into the office, cell phone trapped against his ear, his other hand busy with a tray holding two coffee cups to go. He hums to let the person on the other side of the call know he’s listening, eyebrows drawn together in focus.

“Are you busy?” he mouths to Izzy and she shakes her head ‘no’ vigorously, causing a couple of rebel curls to slip out, messily framing her face. There’s an almost imperceptible quirk of his mouth, a smile anyone not aware of Alec’s habits would miss entirely.

He shoulders the door closed and wraps up the conversation after everything seems to be confirmed, perching on the edge of her desk as he does so. Izzy rounds the piece of furniture, also choosing to lean against the sharp edge, since it feels less professional and just more like the two of them talking.

It’s when she notices the outfit in its full glory - dress pants patterned with dark green plaid, cropped above his ankles and tapered at the bottom - a definite statement piece if Izzy knows anything about fashion (and she does). The rest of the outfit is black - polished wingtip oxfords, a dress shirt buttoned to the top and a long coat thrown over his shoulders.

While it’s still elegant in a way that fits Alec’s personal style of comfort and practicality, it makes her brother seem like he stepped off the runway no more than two minutes ago. There’s a presence to him, the confidence of a leader, quiet control alongside his usual sternness and the watchful way he holds himself; all of it is softened by his ruffled hair and the subtle silver glitter of jewelry.

“Look at you! You’re giving me a run for my money as the best-dressed Shadowhunter in NY, big bro,” she greets him with a quip, oxblood-colored lips stretching into a cheeky grin. “Note that I graciously said ‘Shadowhunter’.”

A full smile blooms on Alec’s face as he casts down his eyes in almost unconscious modesty, but she can feel him settle comfortably against the words. Just a while ago, at any personal comment she would make, he’d curl in on himself and bristle the spikes stuck in his armor; he’d snap and huff and roll his eyes, anxiety moving through him in jagged ways. The ever-famous eye roll is still a popular classic, but now it’s usually directed at Jace or Clary after some sort of reckless shenanigans, at Izzy when she gets into trouble, and often at all the Shadowhunters he’s got to keep in check.

He’s different these days, yet somehow the same.

“Oh, I know, nobody’s taking Magnus’ crown on that front,” Alec answers with a quiet chuckle, then stretches the arm holding the coffee towards her. “Got you your favorite one.”

Izzy takes the cup with her name messily scribbled on it in black marker, recognizing the logo from a small hole-in-the-wall café that makes the best lattes. Just one sip warms her from the inside, all of the rich flavors making her eyes dip closed for just a moment.

Alec’s watching her already when she opens them again - there’s a pleasant expression on his face that she can’t fully interpret, the edges of all the emotions blurring together. She raises her eyebrows in a silent question, but Alec just takes a gulp of his own coffee, eyes drifting towards the work table across from him.

“So, how is my favorite sibling doing?” Alec asks nonchalantly as he crosses his ankles with a sly smile, clearly in no rush to leave; Izzy doesn’t want him to anyway.

She laughs into the lip of her cup and leans over to lightly smack him on the shoulder.

“Better not tell that to Jace, huh?” she teases, taking another sip of her coffee.

Alec pulls his shoulders into a shrug, one corner of his mouth curved up. “What the ears don’t hear, the heart doesn’t grieve over.”

“Mister Lightwood, that’s mean!” Izzy feigns offense in the name of her other brother, hand poised over her lips in mock-shock.

Alec laughs at that, throwing his head back, eyes crinkling into adorable crow’s feet at the corners.

“‘Mean’ is my middle name, according to some people around here.”

“No, that’s Gideon.”

The joke earns Isabelle a slow look of disapproval, then Alec sighs theatrically and reaches for her drink as if he has no other choice. “I got you coffee because I love you, but now I need to rethink that decision.”

“No!” Izzy slips out under Alec’s arm in fits of laughter and he gives another half-hearted attempt at pulling her back, fingers snagging in the collar of her shirt. She lets herself be drawn closer until she’s able to wrap her arms around Alec beneath his coat, careful of her drink she’s still holding onto.

She tucks herself up against her brother’s side, just the perfect size to rest her head on his shoulder. Alec’s arms come up around Isabelle and she feels the safest she could ever be, in the embrace of the person that was always stood by her, even in her darkest moments when all she could think about was yin fen and the pain it caused. He never judged her for anything, instead took care of her and loved her all the same. Truthfully, she probably wouldn’t even be here without him.

It’s nothing she didn’t know already, but the realization makes her chest hurt with all that she feels - love, gratitude, faith, so much more than that. She’s always looked up to him; from the very first day she remembers, Alec was right by her side, holding her little chubby toddler hand, training with her when they were big enough to do so, always listening to her even when he was worn down himself. She knows he would do anything for her - give up all that he has to keep her smiling.

She’d do the same for him without hesitation.

Alec’s been miserable until Magnus came into his life - frustrated, terrified, stuck inside the cage this society built around him. And perhaps she wasn’t able to be the one to pull him out of that, to help him realize he’s so much more than a soldier and a son - someone who deserves his own happiness and the space to spread his wings; she’s still glad to be there for him, watch him flourish and grow into the person he was always meant to be.

He may seem different, but he’s the same Alec she’s known forever, just happy.

Of course, they’ve had good moments where they laughed together and sassed each other, and had days where everything seemed alright, but there was always an underlying current of something missing. Alec would never mention it, but she could see it in the slouched angle of his shoulders, in the way he stood rigidly with his eyes trained on the floor each time their parents spoke to him, in the way he’d come from training with bruised skin and reddened eyes.

Now, he talks to Izzy more - about his life, about himself and the way he feels, even if some details stay forever a secret, huddled close to his heart. She’s completely okay with that - she’s just glad he knows he can confide in her whenever he needs to. 

He tells her about his dates and life with Magnus, promises to take her sightseeing in Rome with them the next time they go, gossips about Clave executives and all the dumb laws he has to try and fix with the Council’s help; he mentions his better contact with mom and laughs about somehow lucking out again to find himself friends with people like Luke, Cat, Maia, and Simon.

Izzy talks too - she mentions the mundane meetings and how sometimes it gets hard, but she pulls through, for herself and for others. She talks about hanging out with Maia and Simon as well, about training Max to be the best he can. Once she confesses how strange it is to be back in the swing of things, yet how ecstatic that makes her.

She tightens her grip around Alec’s chest, swallowing around the cluster of emotions stuck in her throat, just as he drops a kiss on top of her head.

“What are you thinking, Iz?” he asks, affection and genuine curiosity easy to spot in his tone, low and rumbling beneath her ear.

She glances up at him, smiles wide and honest, considering all the words wanting to be said, all the ‘thank you’s and ‘I’m sorry’s and all the secrets he doesn’t know yet, but someday will.

“I’m glad to have you by my side, big brother.”

His expression softens, becomes vulnerable in the way he allows himself to be only around those who mean the world to him. Setting his cup on the edge of her desk, Alec kisses her forehead, his hands warm against the sides of her face.

“It’s always been us against the world, hasn’t it?” he hums after a moment of quiet.