#hufflebee

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.

She had left Maia tangled up in white sheets, her chest rising and falling in a slow rhythm and dark curls splayed upon the pillow. She had looked so peaceful, no lines of worry on her forehead and only exhaustion from the past few days making her sleep through Izzy crawling out of bed. A part of her had wanted to curl up to her and try to go back to sleep but years of staying up until late at night or waking up before 5am for her patrols are making it impossible to sleep in, even on days like this one.

The sun has made her way over the horizon by now but a few last streaks of pink and red remain, reflected in the unsteady ocean. Almost on instinct, Isabelle reaches for her phone to capture the moment and send a text to the Lightwoods group chat but her hand comes up empty instead. The phone left in her suitcase, not even unpacked yet. There were other more important things to pay attention to last night like the moonlight reflecting in the water and later in the droplets on Maia’s skin; like catching those with her lips or the warmth leaving her positively tired and worn out next to another body, breathing heavily.

A new kind of heat warms up her skin as she thinks back to happy, lazy kisses and hands finding each other’s bodies beneath white sheets. To Maia’s eyes flashing with all the emotions she had felt in her own heart. To the way her touch had drawn sighs and moans and her name from Isabelle’s lips. To the all-consuming thought, she had tried so many times to put into words but never quite managed.

Absentmindedly, her fingers draw shapes into the wet sand beside her as she replays the memory; a rune for love, for protection and trust and… Isabelle smiles as she looks down, the symbol one she had familiarized even as a child with eyes wide in wonder and a warm sense of hope and longing in her chest. The pattern in the sand is slightly less accurate than the matching one on the back of her right hand resting next to it. With the next wave spilling over the beach all runes are washed away anyway.

The one on her hand however remains, permanent and forever. A few years ago, she would have never believed anyone telling her that this was just around the corner for her; that Clary stumbling into their lives and turning it around with chaos would lead her here with a word so powerful echoing in her mind and making her smile. Forever. It’s not in the literal sense of the word (Not like Alec who had said it with such sincerity, voice soft like a profession of faith the first time he mentioned it. There had been no room left to wonder what exactly he meant.) but an as long as I have you, as long as I live. It’s a promise and a vow and Isabelle would have never thought she would share this with someone from a completely different world. A woman, moreover.

A bird sings somewhere in the trees behind her, breaching the constant sound of waves crashing upon sand. It’s a beautiful, lonely melody; a song she is sure has some meaning that is lost to mundanes and Nephilim alike. When she turns around to find the singer her eyes fall back on the small house. The imprints her feet have made earlier when she snuck out to find a place to sit down have long been washed away but other than that the image is still the same as when she left. The doors leading from the terrace to the bedroom are still open, light white curtains blowing in the breeze the ocean sends.

Maia is still asleep when Isabelle makes her way back inside, lying on her stomach and stretched all the way to the other side of the bed as usual. Her sleeping habits had been the spark of more than one lighthearted discussion but who was Izzy to complain when the woman she loves had thrown her arms around her in the middle of the night and curled around her. She tiptoes towards the bed now, leaving the door to the balcony open. The soft sound of waves mixed with bird song is a sweet background noise to the silent bedroom. Not quite silent as Maia’s breathing is just barely audible, swallowed by Izzy’s pillow.

Her skin is warm and soft beneath Isabelle’s fingertips. It feels even better against her lips, making a path along her spine, between her shoulder blades and lower. Her tongue tastes the residue salt of sweat from last night, her hands gently dig into shoulder blades and massaging away at knots and stress.

“Mmmhh.” The sound is slow, almost silent as Maia’s arms stretch to the sides of the bed, a wave of tension going through her entire body before it goes lax beneath Izzy. Warm brown eyes blink open slowly, closing a few times before she is able to locate Isabelle hovering above her back. “Good morning.

Her morning voice might be Izzy’s favorite. When it’s still low and rough from sleep, so similar to whispers under heated sheets and unsteady, lacking its usual forwardness. She rewards it with a kiss just below Maia’s right shoulder. “Morning.”

“Someone is up early.” The statement lacks judgement, just a hint of teasing since Isabelle is the first to complain about not being able to sleep in yet on the days that she could she is restless and usually up before seven.

The teasing is so familiar it makes her smile even brighter, rubbing her nose along Maia’s spine which rewards her with a soft sigh. She does it again simply to prolong the sound, in lieu of an answer.

“So, yesterday huh?”

Isabelle almost snorts, abandoning her spot between Maia’s shoulders to bring their faces closer together, eyebrows raised. They’re both grinning by now, happiness so full in their hearts it’s very likely visible within their eyes. Their noses bump as Izzy leans forward to plant a kiss at the corner of Maia’s mouth. “Yeah… that happened.”

Her voice is laced with wonder. Despite the years, the struggles they’ve faced alone and together and against each other. Despite the fact that it’s been months since she had clutched Maia’s hands within her own and asked the question which had been burning on her tongue for months before that. Every day waking up and looking at the woman lying beside her is a wonder on its own. She never thought she could have this and how long had she been scared it wouldn’t last, that she would screw it up?

“I’m glad.” The statement is soothing, even now, even on the morning after. It curls around Isabelle’s heart and she closes her eyes for a moment, pressing her forehead to Maia’s cheek. “I’m happy.”

“Me too.”

They stay like this for a moment, content with silence and smiles and being close. At some point, Izzy’s breathing begins to match Maia’s slower rhythm, her front rising and falling in sync with Maia’s back. It could be enough to pull her back to sleep, she muses, just the warmth of another body and the sound of the waves outside and the knowledge that they’re safe and free of any worries for the next two weeks. Two weeks filled only with each other and going exploring along the island and letting Maia coax her into diving to see what type of fish are out there in the ocean.

Two weeks of just kisses like these as Maia leans up, her lips soft and pliant underneath Izzy’s, warm from sleep and undemanding. It’s there you are and this is perfect and most of all I love you so much. The angle is weird, with Isabelle straddling Maia’s waist and her front pressed to her back so she releases a soft grunt of approval when Maia twists beneath her to turn around. The only thing separating them now are the thin sheets and the material of Isabelle’s pajama and the realization sends a shiver down her spine, releases another groan off her lips.

Maia’s hand finds her neck, adding just a bit of pressure to bring their lips closer as if they could, as if they’re not pressed together from head to toe. Still she complies, her tongue sweeping along Maia’s bottom lip – as a reward and an answer and simply because she wants. It draws a moan from her girlfriend her wife which Isabelle swallows gladly, grinning into the kiss. Her legs bracket Maia’s hips, the sheets pulled halfway down her body and revealing inches of warm skin. Izzy’s fingertips eagerly run over her sides, dip into her belly button, up over her breasts to earn another sigh of pleasure. It’s a path they’ve taken countless times in the last four years.

Magnus looks - well - just as good as he did on the day they tried on their tuxes together. The slightly off-white is stunning on him, complimenting his skin tone. The suit is just minorly detailed enough that Magnus’ other accessories can stand out without clashing. His makeup is just slightly smeared, proving that he was tearing up earlier, and Alec steps inside and closes the door behind him, cupping Magnus’ face.

“What’s wrong?” Alec asks softly, and Magnus smiles, shaking his head.

“I promise you, it’s nothing. Emotions are just running high, I guess,” Magnus waves his hand, as if physically trying to wave away his emotions, and Alec catches it, pressing a kiss to Magnus’ palm. There’s an emptiness to the ring finger on his left hand, and Alec feels giddy with the knowledge that in just a few hours, he’ll be sliding a gold band on there, and the future will belong to them.

“Talk to me,” Alec says, and Magnus’ shoulders sag. They walk over and sit on the small sofa in the changing room, and Alec instantly takes Magnus’ hands, as if not physically touching today is impossible. Today is important, and Alec wants it to be perfect for both him and Magnus.

“I just began thinking about how I never thought I’d get to have this,” Magnus says, and Alec watches him. They’ve had a few discussions before, about how this feels surreal to Magnus. Sometimes it’s said playfully, Magnus joking that he’s in the best dream possible and he never wants to wake up, but sometimes he says it with an edge to his voice, and Alec knows that there’s a part of Magnus’ past that genuinely engraved it in his mind that he doesn’t deserve marriage and eternal happiness.

Alec may slay demons for a living, but not even he can kill all the demons in Magnus’ mind. God help him though if he won’t try, every day.

“And then it spiraled into Ragnor not getting to see me get this, when he was the most positive I’d have a wife or husband one day,” Magnus says. “When Izzy asked if I was okay, probably hearing me through these thin walls, everything felt like so much and I snapped at her. Then when I apologized, I don’t think she fully believed that everything was okay, so she went to get you. I’m sorry, my love.”

“Shut up,” Alec says playfully. “You know there’s never a reason to be sorry. I’m more than happy to give you my attention. You have all of it anyway.”

Magnus laughs at this, though it is a little teary still.

“Magnus Bane,” Alec says, hooking a finger under Magnus’ chin and forcing Magnus to meet his eyes. “Like I said on the night we mutually proposed, you are the best man I have ever met. You’re honest and kind and loving, and I’m lucky to know you, let alone have the privilege to love you. This? Marrying you? I’ve thought about doing it every day since the minute we had the discussion over fatty tuna.”

“It really shouldn’t be called obese tuna,” Magnus says under his breath, and Alec laughs.

“I love you,” Alec says, and Magnus smiles, leaning his forehead on Alec’s shoulder as Alec embraces him.

“I love you too, Alexander,” Magnus says.

“And before you say it, there’s no need to apologize.” Alec says, making Magnus chuckle.

Magnus pulls away after a moment, and Alec uses his thumb to wipe the slightly smeared makeup from the corner of his eyes.

“We’re getting married,” Alec says, his tummy flipping at the words.

“We are,” Magnus says, smiling. “In a room full of people we love and who love us, and want to celebrate with us.”

Magnus’ hands move to Alec’s inner forearm, and he traces the spot over Alec’s suit jacket.

“Are you nervous?” Magnus asks softly.

Alec knows he’s referring to the immortality rune, created as a gift from Clary, that he’s going to draw on today. He was nervous, for a while, but despite that nervousness and the process of coming to a decision, he’s never been more sure that he wants to spend the rest of time with Magnus.

“A little,” Alec says. “Mostly excited.”

“I’m proud of us. For planning this wedding and for making it to where we are now.” Magnus says, and Alec smiles.

“Did you ever doubt us?” Alec asks, although he knows the answer.

“Not even once,” Magnus replies, and Alec chuckles, leaning over and kissing the corner of his mouth.

“Hey,” Magnus pouts, his hands finding the lapels of Alec’s blazer. “Your husband to be wants a proper kiss.”

“You’ll get a proper kiss when I meet you at the end of the aisle, my husband to be.”