Hearing the quiet knocking, Alec doesnât expect the person behind the door to be Clary. She slinks into his office, her steps slow as she wanders closer to the over-cluttered desk heâs sat behind. She reminds Alec of a child whoâs clearly feeling unsure over something and is trying to figure out whether or not to tell.
Straightening up in his chair from where he was hunched over the report pile for today, Alec rests his forearms on the desk, winding his fingers together; waiting. From experience, heâs guessing either sheâs in trouble or itâs about Jace. Clary sighs, tapping her palms gently over her thighs as if she doesnât know what to do with them.
âWhat did you do?â he asks tersely but not unkindly, a shadow of an amused smile lost somewhere in the corners of his lips. Theyâve never grown to be close friends like Clary did with Izzy, but Alec has come to somewhat tolerate her antics, to treat her the same he would any other Shadowhunter heâs responsible for - with respect and care, despite all the stunts sheâs pulled. Heâs almost fond of her, in a way that one is fond of their annoying younger sibling.
Clary chuckles, her eyes flitting over the office as if sheâs searching for something to hold onto, to pull her attention away. She moves a strand of ginger hair away from her face, tucks it behind her ear. Â
âItâs not that, really-â she starts, then cuts herself off with a sigh, avoiding Alecâs questioning gaze.
He tips his head to the side, eyebrows furrowed in confusion; Claryâs never so nervous about seeing him, so this has to be something bigger than your usual law-breaking.
âWhat did Jace do, then?â
She smiles at that, a short press of her lips together, like itâs an inside joke between them of sorts. And it is - between all the sneaking around and secrets and dying, itâs almost funny.
âHe didnât do anything, I swear. But this is kind of about him, I mean-â
Alec can see the way her hands ball into fists in frustration at her sides and he stands, now alarmed. Thereâs something under his skin that tells him this is bigger, more personal and visceral than anything theyâve talked about before. âCome on, sit down.â
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. âTalk to me, Fray,â he says quietly, his tone soft to coax out the words sheâs having trouble with.
Tucking her legs under her, Clary looks at Alec for a moment, before asking, âHow did you know you were gay?â
Thatâs 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.
âWell, Iâve 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 couldnât longer hide from the reality of it all,â Alec pauses, staring somewhere into the distance as he gathers his thoughts. Without realizing, heâs rubbing his fingers together, digits running over scarred knuckles. âWhen people would talk about romantic stuff, about dates, partners and marriage, I could never see myself with a girl. It didnât feel right.â
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.
âAnd how can someone know if theyâre... not straight?â 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.
âWhy are you asking?â 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.
âIâve been feeling strange lately.â
âStrange how?â
âJace and I have been together for a while now, but recently I donât⌠itâs difficult to explain.â Clary bites at the inside of her cheek, eyes downturned. Usually, despite her small posture, sheâs all attitude and snark, even in her lowest moments, so seeing her this quiet makes Alec feel disconcerted.
âTake your time,â he announces and stands, walking over to the electric kettle tucked into the small space behind his door. From experience, he knows that sometimes itâs 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.
âI donât 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,â 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. âNow that weâve finally gotten together, I thought I was feeling strange, because Jace didnât want to have sex with me- sorry, thatâs probably too much information about your brother.â
This time, itâs Alecâs turn to laugh quietly. âWeâre supposed to be parabatai, Iâve heard much worse things,â 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 waterâs boiling and Alec prepares two mugs of green tea, just the hint of mango raising into the air.
âSo, I thought I was just subconsciously feeling unsure, but then he started to really invest himself into this and-â
âInvest?â 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 heâs wearing is new and heâs got a date tonight, sue him.
âHe told me he loved me. And I havenât said it back so far.â Claryâs voice goes quiet as she speaks, the last few words coming out as barely a whisper; her eyebrows are drawn together, expression tight. Alecâs not an expert in reading people, but itâs clear enough sheâs feeling guilty about it, worried perhaps. And heâd sigh, say âoh, straight peopleâ, but heâs got an inkling thatâs not entirely correct.
âOh,â he hums, takes a sip of his tea.
âYeah. Then he took me out on a date, a real one, and the feeling didnât disappear. Instead it got stronger and I realized itâs not about Jace, but about me,â Clary sighs against the rim of her mug, eyes downcast. âI feel like I have to do it, everything that a girlfriend does, but I donât want to. It was similar with Simon, we did everything, but it didnât feel right.â
He doesnât want to say it, but he does anyway; it hurts a little bit. âLike sex, for example?â
âMhm. I thought it was because we were childhood friends, but-â Clary hides her face in her hands for a couple of seconds, growing more and more frustrated, her voice turning louder until sheâs almost yelling. âI care about Jace, I like him, but I donât want to lead him on and I just- I donât know! I donât know what Iâm supposed to be!â
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. âHey, hey, itâs okay.â
âSorry, I shouldnât have said anything, Iâll just go,â she mumbles, trying to push past Alec, but he grasps her elbow, gently but with enough force to stop her from leaving.
âClary, come on. We can work this out,â he pleads, dipping his head down to catch her eyes. She holds his gaze for a moment, as if sheâs looking for something; she seems to find it and settle, let go of the tenseness in her body. They sit again and this time Alecâs on the couch as well, turned to face Clary. âOkay. How do you feel about men?â
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 Shadowhuntersâ world, heâs still new to everything himself. Heâs never had this kind of trouble when coming to his own identity, but he can do his best to help Clary figure hers out.
âTheyâre⌠nice? I mean, I can see theyâre handsome and being with one sounds good in theory. I want it, until I get it and then itâs just⌠there.â
Thatâs 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, âWhat about girls?â
Clary gives a noise that could be interpreted as flustered, followed by a soft chuckle.
âI try not to stare, but theyâre so pretty. When I was out with Jace, we bumped into Maia and Simon and I couldnât 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.â
Strike two. Alec tries not to imagine his sister with Clary.
âWould you like to kiss a girl? Can you imagine yourself doing so?â he questions instead - from his own experience, even the most harmless fantasies are usually a good hint as to whatâs going on; even before Alec admitted to being gay to himself, heâs caught himself thinking about what was âforbiddenâ back then way more than once.
Clary blinks thoughtfully, her eyes staring somewhere into the middle distance. âI-, yeah, I think Iâd like that. Lately, Iâve been catching myself looking at girls, thinking about how their hands would feel in mine, how it would feel to-â Suddenly, Clary straightens up, lips still open around the aborted sentence.
Strike three.
âYouâve found your answer,â Alec smiles, something akin to pride settling in his chest.
Clary nods enthusiastically, her eyes wide.
âI think Iâm a lesbian,â 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 everyoneâs identity, so finding out something has shifted is terrifying, especially when thereâs 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 societyâs rules. Heâs been alone for most of his journey, having to fend for himself and figure everything out on his own - he wouldnât wish that on anyone.
âAnd thatâs okay. I know itâs scary and confusing right now, and it will be for a while. Youâre gonna have doubts - are you gay enough? Are you gay at all, or are you just fooling yourself into feeling different?â Alec rests his palm on Claryâs forearm, squeezes slightly, and sends her a reassuring little smile. âDonât rush it. Thereâs no right or wrong way to be gay, no perfect way to come out to your people when you feel ready. Youâre on a journey, a wonderful, one-of-a-kind, terrifying as hell journey.â
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. âWhat would I do without you, Alec?â
He shrugs with a grin. âProbably something stupid, like usual.â
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.
âWhat a day, huh?â she asks, scrunching up her nose, just the slightest bit of awkward.
âI might be the resident gay guy around here, but Iâm sure Izzy, Magnus or even Aline wouldnât mind talking to you about this if you have questions. My doorâs always open too.â 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.
âIâll remember that. And⌠thank you so much.â Clary reaches out, puts her palm on Alecâs shoulder and he covers it with his own for a couple of seconds, accepting the thanks with a slow nod; thereâs really nothing to thank him for, heâs just looking out for his people.
âGo, take the rest of the day off. Just try to not get into trouble, alright?â
âYou got it, boss.â 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 closes the door and wanders over to his desk chair, slumping into it with a sigh. Looking at the two mugs still on the coffee table, Alec thinks, what a day, indeed.
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harry appreciation from my drunk ass: nobody (NOBODY!!!!!!) kills me with one simple look the way Harry does. He's so talented at conveying different emotions. Am I still watching the "I'm all for effort" scene daily and crying about it? YOU BET!!!!!! (also, ily âĽ)
squishyyyyyyy look this is another ask from the harry bday appreciation and i just????? first of all, the fact that i didnât even follow you at this point is outrageous and iâm glad this changed whew imagine how awful my life would be without you?????? second of all, harry is exceptional and his talent is just???? wowowwowow me?? floored every single time this man is on my screen??? itâs more likely than you think!!!!!! and third of all, âiâm all for effortâ is still my absolute favourite thing iâm never getting over it wow
With the sun setting over New York, Magnus and Alec stumble through the main door, letting it click shut behind them. With his arm around Magnusâ back, Alec leads him over to the couch, supporting a big part of the warlockâs tired weight. The loft is alight with golden rays of the sun, everything so seemingly peaceful compared to what they had gone through just a couple of hours earlier.
Itâs almost like the stressful day had never happened, but the lines of exhaustion, both physical and mental, are obvious in the furrow of Magnusâ brow, in the way he slumps into the soft seat with a bone-deep sigh. With his elbows set on his knees, Magnus rubs at his face with his fingers, not even paying much attention to his eye makeup, with how distracted he is.
When they returned from the core maintenance room, a little bit ruffled and still coming off the high of adrenaline, the OPS centre had been a mess - Jace held Raj pinned down against the table and a couple of other lower-rank Shadowhunters were stood by the far wall, guarded by Izzy and Clary. Alec shouldâve expected the opposition to his idea if he had to be honest, given what has been said about him in the recent weeks by some of the staff  - at least everything worked out despite Rajâs interference, theyâre all alive, the plan worked, and the Institute is still standing where it should be.
At first, Magnus just seemed tired, out of breath and jittery with all the magic that had been running through his fingers just moments before, but as they made their way back home, the excitement wore off, swapped for heavy limbs and a sleepy smile.
Magnus leans against the couch, letting his head fall back against the cushions, looking up at Alec whoâs standing in parade rest, hands clasped behind his back.
âI donât think Iâve taken a cab since the New York Knicks won their first NBA championship back in the seventies,â Magnus muses, his lips quirked up and eyes twinkling with what has to be a mix between nostalgia and mirth.
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.
âWhat about a martini, a hot bath, and a steak, medium rare?â 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 Alecâs touch, eyes dipping closed with bliss.
âYou read my mind, darling. But the bath comes first, I feel like I got hit by a bus.â
âPure angelic power can do that to you,â Alec chuckles, pushing his thumb into a very tight knot of muscle in the junction of Magnusâ neck. âYou sit tight, Iâm gonna go and start the water.â
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.
âGo ahead, Iâll be right back,â 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. Heâs 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 Alecâs 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.
âEnjoying the view, are we?â he quips, making quick work of the rest of the buttons and slipping out of the shirt to hand it over to Alec.
âDonât mind me, go on,â Alec chuckles, folding the shirt haphazardly to deposit it on top of the laundry hamper. Unsurprisingly, his gaze drifts back to the expanses of Magnusâ chest, tempting Alec to run his fingertips against Magnusâ sternum and down his stomach.
âHow about you join me? The bathâs big enough for two,â Magnus proposes with feigned innocence, shrugging one shoulder as he works on undoing his pants - itâs 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 canât help himself; he breathes out.
âI could use some down time,â Alec aims for an unaffected tone, but Magnus sees right through the facade, raising one questioning eyebrow. Alec rolls his eyes fondly. âOh, shut it.â
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 Magnusâ 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 - itâs 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. Itâs about taking care of each other.
Magnusâ 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. âTake some of my strength.â
Magnus pulls his eyebrows together and tilts his head in a half-aborted headshake.
âAlexanderâŚâ
âCome on, even a little bit, just so you can get your mojo back quicker,â Alec insists, running his thumbs over the blue veins on the insides of Magnusâ wrists.
With the first touch of magic, Alec shivers as it tugs on his core - itâs not uncomfortable, per se, but itâs 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 Magnusâ magic being something Alecâs 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 Alecâs. âThank you.â
âThis, as well,â 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.
âMy rejuvenation serum? How did you know where it was?â he asks, seeming positively surprised and almost impressed, even with a task as simple as this.
âWell, I listen to you, believe it or not. Also, I spend a lot of time in the apothecary with you.â
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 canât help but smile with fondness.
âI donât doubt that, you do tend to stare at my lips quite often.â 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.
âI donât stare, I appreciate,â Alec balks at Magnusâ words, huffing as he pulls his henley over his head, dropping it onto the floor. âAnd you canât blame me, really, since theyâre so lovely.â
Alec is just telling the truth as it is - heâd kiss Magnus constantly if he ever had that option. And itâs not that he doesnât 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. âBut are they more exquisite than Lorenzoâs fabrics?â he teases, his voice tinted with laughter.
âMagnus, I was winging it! He didnât exactly give me much to work with,â 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. âWell, until he started talking about himself being used as a baby model by an artist.â
At that point, Alec was just guessing his answers - apparently he had luck on his side, since that baby looked nothing like Lorenzo himself.
âEl Greco?â
âYeah, how did you know?â
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 Magnusâ scoff loud and clear. âBecause he tells that story to anyone who has the patience to listen.â
He does seem like the type, Alec thinks. It took them maybe twenty minutes just to go through one room and heâs 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.
âI thought he was going to talk my ear off about all of his antiquities! Your loft isnât modest by any chance, but Reyâs just showing off with that mansion chock full of expensive crap.â
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 Alecâs 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 Magnusâ chest, and with curious fingers tracing paths through the dark hair on his chest.
âOh, I know! Heâs always been like that, loving any attention coming his way. He thinks heâs the Jay Gatsby of warlocks.â Magnusâ voice resonates straight through Alecâs 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 20sâ dress.
âIn reality, he is more of a Daisy, who also needs to hang back on the hair pomade. That ponytail is slicker than his attitude.â Alec tips his head back onto Magnusâ collarbone, as Magnus laughs shamelessly at the jab, making the water ripple around them with each breath; itâs Alecâs favorite sound.
He closes his eyes for a moment, tangling his fingers with Magnusâ and pulling their hands to rest on his stomach. Then, he adds, âHe is so full of himself, he didnât even realize I was just buying you time with the compliments.â
âSuch an ass. And you did so well, my dear. Iâve never heard you talk with such passion about ceilings!â Magnus nods exaggeratedly, poking fun at Alecâs âprofessionalâ acting skills; for how long heâs been a Shadowhunter, anyone would think heâd get better at acting, but alas itâs never been Alecâs 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.
âI had to improvise somehow, I couldnât let him see you making faces from behind his fancy couch. But you would make an excellent spy.â
Magnus chuckles, dropping a kiss on top of Alecâs messy hair that probably still smells like sandalwood. âWe should start our own detective agency - Bane & Lightwood, here at your service. For the right price, of course.â
Itâs 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 wouldnât turn out so differently.
âThatâs our retirement plan, then.â
Itâs both casual and monumental, hanging in the air between them. Magnus stills above Alec, his chin resting against Alecâs head, who can sense him tense up a bit, before relaxing back into the water.
âIâm already looking forward to it.â Magnusâ 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. âI appreciated your help today. I would rather have you safe and sound somewhere else, but you being there with me meant a lot.â
Alec is glad to see Magnus open up more about his thoughts and feelings, as it allows them to understand each other better. Sometimes itâs easier to leave certain things unspoken, but theyâre 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.
âOf course. I told you, I go wherever you go and if it means into danger, then so be it. Iâm not leaving your side, never again,â Alec confesses, squeezing Magnusâ fingers between his.
âHave I mentioned how much I love you?â Magnus chuckles, tightening his embrace around Alec and making something warm bloom in his chest.
Alec laughs as well, closing his eyes.
Itâs barely past eight in the morning when Izzy unlocks the door to her own little corner of the Institute, a hybrid of a workshop and an office. Itâs a recent development, entirely of Alecâs doing after she mentioned wanting to get back into weapon engineering. So far the immersive work has been a great source of joy and pride for Isabelle, allowing her to focus, reinvigorate despite the difficult tasks, grow even stronger in her recovery.
She loves the space heâd put together for her under her guidance - one part of it includes a large desk, a loveseat in the corner and a couple of shelves with all the books she could list. The other half is comprised of a work bench currently cluttered with misshapen pieces of metal that in the end will come together as her double-arrow crossbow, as well as her tools and materials, most of those safely stored away in large cupboards tucked against the stone walls.
Hanging her jacket over the back of the swivel chair, Izzy sets her hands on her hips, mentally compartmentalizing everything that begs for her attention - finishing all the budget amendments for the Head to include in this monthâs report, finally getting done with that stubborn blueprint for tracking arrows, and if sheâs feeling extremely productive - kicking Claryâs ass in double-handed staffs training.
She sets to work after putting her hair up into a messy bun, but she barely gets a few sentences into the report, when thereâs a knock on her door - three quick raps, easily recognizable as her older brother.
âCome in,â she answers, a subtle sort of excitement blooming through her chest. She hasnât had the chance to see him properly lately, as theyâve both been busy with respective work; it would be a lie to say she doesnât 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 heâs listening, eyebrows drawn together in focus.
âAre you busy?â he mouths to Izzy and she shakes her head ânoâ vigorously, causing a couple of rebel curls to slip out, messily framing her face. Thereâs an almost imperceptible quirk of his mouth, a smile anyone not aware of Alecâs 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.
Itâs 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 itâs still elegant in a way that fits Alecâs personal style of comfort and practicality, it makes her brother seem like he stepped off the runway no more than two minutes ago. Thereâs 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.
âLook at you! Youâre giving me a run for my money as the best-dressed Shadowhunter in NY, big bro,â she greets him with a quip, oxblood-colored lips stretching into a cheeky grin. âNote that I graciously said âShadowhunterâ.â
A full smile blooms on Alecâs 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, heâd curl in on himself and bristle the spikes stuck in his armor; heâd 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 itâs 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 heâs got to keep in check.
Heâs different these days, yet somehow the same.
âOh, I know, nobodyâs taking Magnusâ crown on that front,â Alec answers with a quiet chuckle, then stretches the arm holding the coffee towards her. âGot you your favorite one.â
Izzy takes the cup with her name messily scribbled on it in black marker, recognizing the logo from a small hole-in-the-wall cafĂŠ 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.
Alecâs watching her already when she opens them again - thereâs a pleasant expression on his face that she canât 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.
âSo, how is my favorite sibling doing?â Alec asks nonchalantly as he crosses his ankles with a sly smile, clearly in no rush to leave; Izzy doesnât want him to anyway.
She laughs into the lip of her cup and leans over to lightly smack him on the shoulder.
âBetter not tell that to Jace, huh?â she teases, taking another sip of her coffee.
Alec pulls his shoulders into a shrug, one corner of his mouth curved up. âWhat the ears donât hear, the heart doesnât grieve over.â
âMister Lightwood, thatâs mean!â 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 crowâs feet at the corners.
ââMeanâ is my middle name, according to some people around here.â
âNo, thatâs Gideon.â
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. âI got you coffee because I love you, but now I need to rethink that decision.â
âNo!â Izzy slips out under Alecâs 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 sheâs able to wrap her arms around Alec beneath his coat, careful of her drink sheâs still holding onto.
She tucks herself up against her brotherâs side, just the perfect size to rest her head on his shoulder. Alecâs 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 wouldnât even be here without him.
Itâs nothing she didnât know already, but the realization makes her chest hurt with all that she feels - love, gratitude, faith, so much more than that. Sheâs 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.
Sheâd do the same for him without hesitation.
Alecâs been miserable until Magnus came into his life - frustrated, terrified, stuck inside the cage this society built around him. And perhaps she wasnât able to be the one to pull him out of that, to help him realize heâs so much more than a soldier and a son - someone who deserves his own happiness and the space to spread his wings; sheâs 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 heâs the same Alec sheâs known forever, just happy.
Of course, theyâve 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 heâd 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. Sheâs completely okay with that - sheâs just glad he knows he can confide in her whenever he needs to.Â
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 Councilâs 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 Alecâs chest, swallowing around the cluster of emotions stuck in her throat, just as he drops a kiss on top of her head.
âWhat are you thinking, Iz?â 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 âthank youâs and âIâm sorryâs and all the secrets he doesnât know yet, but someday will.
âIâm glad to have you by my side, big brother.â
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.
âItâs always been us against the world, hasnât it?â he hums after a moment of quiet.
And heâs right; itâs always been them, Alec and Izzy, a brother and a sister who disagree on everything, except how much they love each other.