#k.sh

Alec shakes his head, face scrunched as he refuses to answer. Magnus sees him regret the motion almost instantly, a hand going clumsily to his mouth as he blurts, “’m gonna –” and uses Magnus as a push off point to get to the bathroom. His legs splay beneath him as he stumbles towards it and Magnus, close behind him, slips under his shoulder to hold him up.

They drop to the floor of Magnus’ bathroom when they get there, Alec heaving into the toilet before Magnus has even disentangled himself from him. “Oh sweetheart,” Magnus soothes, running tender fingers through the sweat-curled hair at Alec’s nape as he shifts back to give Alec the room he needs. “My Alec.” The second endearment is spoken too low for Alec to hear, Magnus holding it sweetly on his tongue.

With his free hand, Magnus summons his phone and sends a quick text to Isabelle and Jace. Izzy replies almost immediately with Oh he's with you, thank god and Jace says nothing, but the relief he feels is so strong that Magnus can sense it flood over the parabatai bond through the hand he has on Alec. He sends the phone away again as Alec turns towards him, done. Magnus sees dried tear tracks on his face. His chest folds in on itself at the sight, making it hard to breathe.

“It's so – hot, Magnus,” Alec whines, pulling at the collar of his shirt, trying to make his way to the buttons of the henley, but all he manages to do is increase his own frustration. Magnus can't help the small puff of laughter that illicits.

“All right, all right,” Magnus soothes, gently laying his hands over Alec's. “Let me help.” Alec's hands drop as he lets Magnus take care of unbuttoning his shirt and laying the collar open. “Better?”

Alec considers. “No,” he answers finally, petulant, and starts trying to pull the shirt off by the sleeves.

Magnus smiles at his clumsy attempts, endeared even in his worry. “Hey,” he interrupts, stilling Alec's hands again. “Let me.” He slips his hands to Alec's waist and pushes the shirt up Alec's chest, guiding it over Alec's head as Alec crosses his arms to pull it off his back. His arms are still stuck in it, trapped in front of him and before he can get irritated, Magnus grabs the end of one sleeve and slides it off right side out, then does the same with the other as Alec watches.

“Thanks. Tha'z better,” Alec says, without a trace of anything resembling embarrassment in the slight slur, and Magnus is struck by just how uninhibited he is. How vulnerable he's made himself. Magnus brings the wards around the loft up, unwilling to be barged in on with Alec in this state. He feels sorry already about what kind of a night it's going to be for Alec.

Alec leans back against the wall, slumped and graceless. Magnus conjures a cool, damp washcloth and wipes the sweat from Alec’s brow and cheeks with it as gently as he can, washing the salt and sweat away. For a few moments, there's peace as Alec's breathing slows. Magnus hopes against hope that he's gotten past being sick, but the hope is hardly even formed before Alec is reaching desperately for the toilet again, Magnus helping him to it with a hand hooked around his back pushing against his shoulder blade.

He heaves until he has nothing left to bring up, Magnus wincing along, and hovers over the toilet for a long time, knuckles white as he grips the seat, eyes scrunched closed. Finally, he relaxes back against the wall again, looking wretchedly at the toilet, then wretchedly up at Magnus. “This is awful,” he rasps.

Magnus smiles knowingly, the expression tinged in sympathy, and brushes Alec's hair back, fingertips lingering against his forehead. “It's going to get worse,” he warns.

Alec balls his fists together against his stomach, forlorn. “Oh no.”

“Honey,” Magnus starts, kind, “do you want me to fix it?” He brings golden magic to his fingertips.

Alec stares at the swirling magic like Adam at the apple, all want and self-loathing. The look is so fierce and pained that Magnus almost rescinds the offer just to end it.

But then something gives in Alec's face. He mutters, “'s so pretty,” swaying close enough to the magic to be lit by the glow of it, gold tinging his cheekbones and lips. He's gorgeous like this, magic-kissed; Magnus feels his heart shudder beneath his ribs, his wrists throbbing in time. Alec tilts his head to look away from the magic toward Magnus, his expression something enraptured, and startling in its softness. Clumsily, but with great care, he brings his hand up over one of Magnus' eyes to brush his thumb over Magnus' browbone. “You, too.”

Magnus holds his breath. Doesn't dare move, not even to close his eyes beneath the touch. He traces the love line on Alec's palm; it glints with sweat and promise.

“No,” Alec says abruptly, finally answering Magnus' question, his hand dropping and taking Magnus' heart with it. “I worked really – hard – on this.” He waves a shaking hand at himself and the bathroom, then leans in to whisper to Magnus, who leans in to listen. “Had to drink so much vodka.”

Magnus pulls back sharply, the lingering magic in his palm vanishing with a crack. “You're drunk on vodka? Alec, you hate vodka.”

Alec nods. “I fucked up.” He says it like an explanation, flopping back against the wall at an odd angle and struggling to push himself upright again. Magnus has gone ice cold clear through and can't reach out to help.

“You're punishing yourself.” The words taste like vinegar in Magnus' mouth.

Uncomfortable, Alec shifts his weight.

“Alexander,” Magnus pleads. “Please tell me what happened.”

Alec shakes his head, harder and faster as Magnus tries to coax any information at all out of him, all supplication and endearments.

“Please,” Alec pants finally, begging, tears started anew. “I don't – I don't want you to know, Magnus.”

Magnus grabs Alec with both hands and gathers him up hard against his chest, before he's even thought about doing it.

“Okay,” he soothes, rubbing Alec's trembling back and sweeping the knuckles of the other hand across Alec's cheek. Tears coat the back of his hand. He murmurs the words into Alec's hair, heartsick. “It's okay, Alec. I'm sorry, you don't have to tell me. I love you, I'm sorry, I love you.”

Shaking, Alec pushes against Magnus' chest, giving himself enough room to pull back to look at him, but he loses the nerves when he starts to speak. “Are you sure?” he asks, hands clenching into fists against Magnus' chest. “I mean, after – ” He doesn't go on and Magnus is left confused.

“Am I – what?” Magnus reaches for Alec's face, but stops when Alec flinches. For a long while it looks like Alec isn't going to repeat himself, but then he squares his shoulders and looks intently at Magnus, like Magnus is beautiful and precious and incomprehensible and something he wants to have forever. He lifts gentle, shaking hands to Magnus’ face, fingertips at brow and cheekbone. The touch is so soft it makes Magnus tremble.

“Are you sure you love me?”

Magnus' stomach drops with such force he fears he's going to be sick. “Oh god,” he chokes.

“I-I don't – what –” Alec's breathing quickens in his panic and Magnus vicioiusly swallows the emotions he’s choking on.

“Of course, dear heart,” he says. Slowly, making sure Alec is ready for it this time, Magnus brings their faces together, hands cradling Alec’s jaw. They breathe into each other’s mouths. Magnus can taste the vodka in the back of his throat. “I’m sure. I love you. I love you so much, Alec.”

Alec's whole body goes limp at the reassurance, his entire weight resting in Magnus' hands and the magic he summons to help him keep Alec upright.

“That’s good.” Alec says faintly.

“Yes,” Magnus agrees. “It is good.” He takes several moments to collect himself, still forehead-to-forehead with Alec, waiting until Alec's breathing settles into a regular rhythm.

“I've never been more sure of anything, you know,” he says then, quiet, “than I am that I love you. Alexander.”

Alec considers this, fingers wrapped around Magnus' throbbing wrists, and a softness comes to the set of his shoulders. “Me too, Magnus,” he says and leans forward to plant a sloppy kiss above the corner of Magnus' mouth – clearly not where he'd been aiming. Magnus smiles beneath it.

“You need to drink some water,” he tells Alec once Alec's moved on to nuzzling into the side of his face. He helps Alec ease back against the wall again, but hovers close, his bent knees resting on either side of one of Alec's sprawled legs.

Alec meets the idea with open disdain. “I’ll just –” he brings an exhausted hand up along his throat, flicking his wrist as it passes his mouth.

“You might,” Magnus concedes. “But it’ll be better than throwing up stomach acid.”

Alec considers this. “...Prolly true,” he acquiesces finally. Magnus magicks a glass of water for him, carefully making it just below room temperature to soothe without upsetting. Alec has to grip it with both hands. Magnus brushes his fingertips along Alec's temple while he drinks.

“Easy,” he chides, when Alec goes to down the whole glass. “You're always double or nothing. Here.” He takes the glass back, substituting his hand for it in Alec's grip, his thumb rubbing at the inside of Alec's wrist. He waits a beat and says, “Alec? I don't want to upset you by asking, but are you sure that don't want me to make you feel better?”

“Had worse.” Alec shrugs in answer. “When I was – twelve? twelve – I got food poisoning.” He shudders and Magnus sympathy shudders alongside him. “And I still had training and got a new rune that day, too. Didn’t want to but.” He shrugs again. “Threw up on dad’s shoes, in front of everybody. He –” he waves a hand weakly, “not happy.” His voice darkens with remembered shame. “Mom neither.”

Turning away, Magnus puts a hand to his mouth. The thought of a preteen Alec pushed to work through illness – and only to receive disappointment – is stomach-churning. He thinks again that Alec won't be the only one getting sick tonight.

“Didn’t eat before new runes after that,” Alec says, decisive and proud, as though that were the obvious solution to that problem. For a while they’re silent, Alec tired and Magnus horror-stricken, and then Alec grabs for the toilet again, dragging himself up to divest himself of the water.

Magnus cools the washcloth again with a snap of magic and lays it gently on the back of Alec's neck, his heart aching.

They’re quiet then for a long time after that round has passed as Magnus prompts Alec through drinking more water. Magnus thinks that maybe the talking portion of Alec’s escapade in drunkenness has passed. He might be a little relieved. But then Alec looks at him sideways once before saying, “You know,” conspiratorially and Magnus knows they’re not. “I broke a kid’s nose once.”

“Oh,” Magnus says, uncertain. “Good for you.”

“I was also a kid,” Alec clarifies, “at the time.”

Magnus nods. “That does help.”

“We were training. I didn’t...really mean to break his nose; I mean I didn’t mean not to but – it was training. I was finally getting it right.” He lifts a shoulder. “He was the son of a higher-up so I got in big time trouble for it. Corporal punishment trouble.” He lifts an eyebrow like what he’s saying isn’t horrifying. “Lashes. Back before they quit doing that.”

“How old were you?” Magnus asks, anguished. His voice is shaking, but Alec doesn’t notice.

Alec thinks for a moment. “Ten,” he says. He leans forward, smiling. “No one even knew it hurt – I couldn’t lay on my back for a week – but no one knew,” he tells Magnus. Magnus blanches when he realizes that he’s bragging about bearing the pain. “Mom was really proud of me, cuz I never said a word the whole time.”

“God, Alexander.” Magnus feels bile rise in his throat. He's unsure how much more of this he can take. Someone needs to save Maryse Lightwood’s children, he thinks helplessly, reaching for Alec. And Maryse from herself. And from me.

He lays a hand against Alec's jaw. “Fucking Shadowhunters,” he laments, voice breaking. “The things they do to their children.”

“Not my children,” Alec protests, offended. “Never let them lay a hand on ours, Magnus, I promise.”

Magnus nearly swallows his tongue. “I know,” he assures Alec, voice tight as he fights to keep himself together. “I know you won't.”

Alec nods, patting Magnus' arm. Magnus' hand slips up to Alec's cheek and Alec leans into it, sighing. “I’m tired,” he says, eyes fluttering closed. “Can I sleep?”

“Please,” Magnus begs. “Please do.”

“Okay,” Alec says and falls asleep in Magnus' hands.

Magnus takes a moment to compose himself, watching the rise and fall of Alec's chest and timing his own breaths to Alec's. When he's calm enough to summon the magic required, he gently gathers Alec’s long frame and guides his unconscious, floating form to his bed. He slides Alec's shoes and pants off and brings the blanets over him, running a tender hand over Alec's brow and temple. Alec nuzzles into Magnus' palm, curling onto his side and pulling Magnus down with him in his sleep. Magnus goes willingly, curving his body around Alec's as best he can, one leg hooked over Alec's waist in a way that is both awkward and uncomfortable, but he couldn't care less.

“Magnus,” Alec says suddenly and Magnus realizes that he must have fallen asleep and Alec must have woken up. He's quivering beneath Magnus. “'s all my fault. Tonight – it was my fault.”

Fully awake in an instant, Magnus has the sudden overwhelming urge to murder every single living being that has ever made Alec feel responsible for things he’s not responsible for – to do it bloody, from the inside out. With a violent snap of his fingers above their heads, he sends a burst of magic from his palm into his living room. It’s loud as it destroys whatever of his possessions that it hits. Alec starts, jerking despite Magnus' weight still on him.

“I'm sorry,” Magnus murmurs, placing a calming hand on Alec’s back. “I'm not mad at you, Alec.” He takes a moment to calm himself as well as Alec, draws the rage out of every limb to let it sit simmering low in his stomach. He sits up, to better handle this, keeping his hands on Alec as he does. “It wasn't your fault, Alec,” he says, definitive, trying to push the truth of it through the air to Alec. “You did what you could.”

Alec looks unconvinced, gaze unflinchingly resting on Magnus' face as he sprawls below him on the bed. “You don't know, Magnus, you don't know what happened, you weren't there.”

“You're right,” Magnus grants. “But I know you, Alexander. I know you did everything you could to make things turn out right.” He pauses a moment, his hand shaking against Alec's upper arm. “I'm so sorry they didn't, dear heart.”

For several heart-stoppingly tense moments, Alec is silent. Finally, he rolls over and pulls himself up against Magnus' thighs, whispering, “Me too.” Magnus bends in half to lay across him in the closest they can come to a hug in this position. Alec shudders beneath him. “Thank you,” he murmurs and then, “When does my stomach stop feeling like it's got a shax demon in it?”

Magnus presses a smiling kiss into Alec's back and sits up, bringing a hand to Alec's cheek. “Day after tomorrow.”

Alec groans into Magnus' thigh.

“Unless you've changed your mind about letting me fix it?”

“No, um,” Alec licks his lips. “That's okay, I'll just – I'll just – I'll...sleep.” And before Magnus can say anything else, his body has relaxed into it, his grip on Magnus' legs going slack.

Magnus does not sleep again. Not that night and not for several nights after.

~|~

He fixes pancakes in the morning, piles of them, something he hasn't done in decades. Blueberry, strawberry, banana, chocolate chip, combinations thereof, and plain – all assembled into different stacks with a variety of toppings from whipped cream and fruit and cinnamon and syrup, artfully displayed, to some with only butter. His kitchen is covered in them by the time he hears Alec wake up. He lifts the plates with magic, a large glass of water along with them, and brings them all to his bedroom, where he leans down to kiss Alec's forehead, breakfast hovering above their heads.

“Good morning, Alexander,” he murmurs against Alec's skin, moving to kiss Alec's lips before Alec can  return the greeting. He feels Alec smile into the kiss. He pulls back and Alec sits up, grimacing.

“Breakfast will help,” Magnus says sympathetically, sitting beside him. “Do you have a pancake preference?”

Alec glances around at all the airborn plates in horror and then looks at Magnus like he's suggested Alec take a hacksaw to his own face.

“You're going to want to eat sooner rather than later, Alec,” Magnus insists, fond. “I know the thought alone is horrifying, but trust me. Also,” he adds, bringing the glass of water within reach to grab it and offer it to Alec, “try to drink your body weight in water, starting right now.”

Reluctant but trusting, Alec takes the glass and after a few sips, starts to warm up to the idea enough to take a genuine swallow, before handing the glass back to Magnus to be set on the bedside table and steeling himself to face the pancakes.

Magnus smiles and brings the plates lower, so Alec can see all the offerings. “Preference?” he asks again.

“Um, I've never actually...had pancakes.”

“Shadowhunters,” Magnus despairs and sees the memory hit Alec. He remains quiet, letting Alec decide what to do with the moment.

Alec shakes it off. “Izzy's the only one in my family who cooks – and she's awful,” he defends himself. “Well Jace does too sometimes,” he amends, “but you have to bribe him and it's never worth the price.”

Magnus laughs. “What did it cost you?”

“A month of answering phone calls from girls he'd slighted. God, he was a heel at 17.”

“Oh my, Alexander,” Magnus says, still laughing. “And what did that get you?”

“The best goddamn spaghetti I ever had.”

“You've never been tempted to ask for it again?”

Alec shakes his head, mock solemn. “I have an excellent memory of it and that's all I need.” He smiles as Magnus continues to laugh.

“Well,” Magnus says finally, “I'll guess you'll have to start with my favorite: Blueberry pancakes topped with bananas and strawberry syrup.” He brings that plate to his hand and sets the others down around the room. With a snap, he conjures two forks. “I hope you don't mind sharing,” he says with a grin, handing one to Alec.

Alec grins back at him. “Not at all.”

For a while, they eat in silence, both ravished and Alec's enthusiasm for the activity growing as he finds that it settles his stomach and lessens his headache, something he remarks on to Magnus with an unsurprised “You were right; you're always right” murmured through a mouthful of their second stack.

“I have a great deal of experience with hangovers,” Magnus admits, something in his voice bringing a weight to the conversation.

Alec pauses his eating, bringing the fork down to the plate on the bed between them. “I...said a lot of things last night, didn't I?” he says.

Neutrally, Magnus nods.

“I don't – ” he starts, and reconsiders. “I'm sorry.”

“Alexander,” Magnus says, emphatically. “You have nothing to be sorry for.”

Magnus can tell by the tilt of Alec's shoulders that Alec doesn't agree. “I didn't mean to-to make you take care of me.”

“Alec, it's a privilege.” Magnus takes Alec's hands in his. “I will always be here for you when you need me. That's what love does.” He brings his face closer to Alec's, looking him in the eye. “You wouldn't turn me away if I needed you, would you?”

Alec looks affronted at the very thought. “No, never. Magnus – never.”

Magnus smiles. “Then why should it be any different when you need me?”

“I shouldn't – I shouldn't – ”

“What? Need people?” Magnus tilts his head at him. “Alec.”

Cornered, Alec snaps, “I shouldn't have showed up drunk on your doorstep.” The look on his face after he's said it is one of triumph.

Magnus sighs and takes a moment before answering, running his hands slowly up and down the insides  of Alec's tense forearms. He finally stills his hands over Alec's clenched fists.

“I do wish you wouldn't hurt yourself, or cause yourself harm,” he starts. “But you're never an inconveinence to me, Alec. Or a burden.” He pauses, reaching for Alec's face, tracing the shape of his brow and jaw with his eyes. He brings his other hand to Alec's still-bare chest, above his heart. “You are the great gift of my life, Alexander. In all these centuries, nothing has meant more to me than you.” He pauses again, watching what he's saying settle into the lines of Alec's body. “Please don't ever feel the need to keep yourself from me,” he continues, “especially not for my sake. It will do the exact opposite of what you intend.”

Alec stares at him for a long, long time, eyes roving over his face, shoulders, chest, down to his waist, Alec's hands coming to follow along, running over the muscle of Magnus' thigh and calf and back up his side to his neck. Alec opens his mouth, a choked sound all he can make, and pulls Magnus towards him with a hand behind his neck. This kiss hits its mark, Alec's tongue passing between Magnus' lips and teeth with a tenderness so sweet and strong it starts Magnus shaking.

They pull apart, both panting, and Alec says, “I wish I knew how to tell you what you mean to me.”

Magnus vanishes the plate from the bed, grabbing Alec by the shoulders and pulling him on top of him as he lays back against the bed, spreading his legs for Alec to come to rest between them. “Show me,” he suggests in a husky whisper against Alec's cheek.

Alec's mouth roams every inch of Magnus that morning, tongue and teeth over every curve of muscle and every push of bone against skin. He brings Magnus close with that eager, earnest mouth only to back off – over and over until Magnus is whimpering with love and need, his body aglow and magic sparking uncontrolled in his fingers, bringing warmth and dizzying pleasure to Alec when the sparks fly against his skin.

Once he’s undone all the buttons on Magnus’ shirt and vest, Alec slips his hands beneath them to slide them off Magnus’ shoulders. His hands slide the clothes all the way down Magnus’ arms. They let them drop to the pile with the rest of the clothes, holding hands for a moment before continuing to undress themselves again.

Magnus’ rings get caught in his necklaces, which he doesn’t notice until Alec catches his wrist, keeping him from yanking on the necklaces and causing himself pain. Breathlessly, Magnus watches Alec untangle the jewelry. Alec has stopped halfway through taking his pants off to do so and Magnus has to catch him as he trips over his pant legs when he steps back after successfully freeing Magnus. They’re too tired to laugh, but they chuckle a little, Magnus’ hands wrapped around Alec’s wrists. They linger like that for so long they almost fall asleep standing up.

Eventually, reluctantly, Magnus’ fingers fall and Alec finally gets his pants slipped off. He steps towards the bed to turn the covers down, fluffing the pillow on Magnus’ side. Magnus still has not managed to begin moving again. Tears burning in the back of his throat, he says, “Alec.” And Alec, stunning in his knee-high socks and boxer briefs, comes back to him immediately, hands coming to his elbows, brow furrowed in concern as he brings his face down to make eye contact with Magnus.

“Kiss me,” Magnus asks, choking.

Alec’s lips come so quickly to Magnus’ that they land only partially on their target. The kiss continues inelegantly, messily; they’re exhausted and in love and relieved and coming down from a day of fear and adrenaline highs. They tremble in each other’s arms and gratefully kiss more skin than lips, tenderness and joy in every point of contact. Breathing hard, Alec rests his forehead on Magnus’ again in coveted closeness. He slides his hands down Magnus’ chest to the waist of Magnus’ pants, gently handling the button and zipper and pushing them down over Magnus’ hips. Magnus steps out of them, sliding them to the side with one foot. Alec pushes him towards the bed when they’re clear, spinning them slowly so that he can sit on the edge of the bed and pull Magnus to him.

With one of the tears he’s been choking on slipping down his cheek, Magnus takes the hint and straddles Alec, resting his weight gently across Alec’s thighs and wrapping his arms around Alec’s neck. Alec exhales, hard, the air brushing over Magnus’ nipples and making him shiver. “I love you,” Alec says, leaning forward to say the words against Magnus’ chest. Once he’s started, he can’t stop. “I love you I love you I love you I–”

“I love you, too; you too; you too; you too,” Magnus echoes, “I love you I love you I love–” speaking the words against Alec’s temple, into his hair, against the swell of his cheekbone, beneath his eye. He has the urge to cover every inch of Alec’s skin with it, like a spell to keep him safe. If only love – or magic – worked that way.

They repeat the declaration until their voices are hoarse and their muscles are trembling. With the last of his strength, Alec pulls them back towards the headboard with one hand, the other arm around Magnus’ waist to keep him steady against him.

Once settled again, Alec folds his knees up behind Magnus and burrows his face into the side of Magnus’ neck, both arms coming back around Magnus until he’s cradling Magnus with his entire body – and promptly falls asleep beneath the weight of him. For most of the night, Magnus remains awake in Alec’s hold, still except for the gentle tears falling into Alec’s hair. The feeling of Alec’s chest brushing his to the rhythm of Alec’s breaths is much more fulfilling than sleep.

But when he can’t put off his own rest any longer, he brings Alec down to the bed, a task he undertakes with some difficulty since Alec refuses to loosen his grip even in sleep. Alec snuffles discontentedly when they’re laid out on their sides front-to-front and Magnus pacifies him by hooking one of Alec’s legs over his waist and slipping one of his own legs between Alec’s, bringing them as close as can be managed. With a sigh, Alec nuzzles his way back to Magnus’ neck and is still.

In the morning, they wake in exactly the same position, hearts beating against each other’s chests. The look on Alec’s face makes Magnus think of prayers he’d forgotten he knew and isn’t sure he can say. He thinks he’ll try anyway. But before he can speak, Alec is sliding down Magnus’ body, peppering desperate, tender kisses down his chest and stomach and slipping his underwear down to get at his cock. Magnus gasps when Alec takes him in his mouth, prayers to all gods new and old, real and not, forgotten, replaced with Alec’s name.

He brings Alec back up with scrabbling fingers when he feels his orgasm coming, always brought with such force by Alec’s earnest tongue, and is kissing him as though he might slip inside him that way when he does come. Magnus trembles apart; the only parts of his body he’s sure are real are the parts beneath Alec’s hands.

When all of his pieces are back in their proper order, Magnus makes to return the favor, but the instant he pushes back to give himself the room he needs, Alec grabs him and pulls him back in. The desperate clutch of Alec’s hot hands is the tightest grip Alec’s ever had on him. “No, don’t,” Alec says, bringing trembling lips to the pulse point on Magnus’ neck. “Just – touch me instead, please? Stay…close.”

Magnus turns his head beneath the touch of Alec’s lips to press a kiss to Alec’s jaw. “All right, dear heart,” he murmurs, and slips a hand between them, magic in that palm to ease and enhance. Alec jerks at the first touch, the magic unexpected, but welcome; the moan it draws from him reverberates through Magnus’ entire body. Magnus uses all of Alec’s favorite tricks, pressing open-mouthed kisses to his cheek, his jaw, his neck as he does, biting gently at Alec’s ear when he can tell Alec is close.

Alec comes like his bones are collapsing, his whole body going suddenly, utterly gentle beneath Magnus’ touch. It is the least violent orgasm Alec has ever had and apparently the most satisfying as Alec drifts in the afterglow for longer than Magnus has ever seen him, something that Magnus counts as a blessing. Alec’s beautiful always, but especially when he’s loose-limbed and happy and basking in all the good feelings Magnus knows he deserves. There’s an openness to him in these moments that Magnus feels privileged to see and the press of his warm body against Magnus’ this morning is a holier thing than any angel blood could ever be.

Magnus shifts to get at Alec’s throat. “I love you, Alexander Lightwood,” he murmurs there. He will say this against all of Alec’s skin – and again after that.

“Yes,” Magnus confirms, stepping past the dog to press a kiss to Alec's cheek. He has to come onto his toes to reach, balancing himself with a grip on Alec's biceps. Alec thinks he can feel the ridges of Magnus' fingerprints burn themselves onto his skin through his shirt. He takes hold of Magnus in turn and takes a real kiss from his lips, licking into his mouth. He forgets the dog is even there until it comes between them, pushing to claim his master's affections.

“Rude,” Magnus chides it, tapping its nose.

Alec recovers some of his sense of wonder at seeing the beast, muttering, “Let slip the hounds of hell” in wary awe.

“Shakespeare!” Magnus exclaims, pleased. “You know, I haven't seen a play of his since he was around to act in them. Could never make myself do it.”

“You knew Shakespeare?” Alec asks, exasperated in the fondest way possible.

Magnus nods. “A bisexual after my own heart.”

Alec chuckles. “I thought you were in Peru around that time.” He eyes the dog, admiring the sleekness of its coat.

Magnus waves a ringed hand. “Only for part of the duration of his career.”

Alec lifts his chin towards the dog, who's leaning so heavily on Magnus that Magnus has to reach for Alec in order to remain upright. Alec holds him by the forearms until he can get his balance back. “How'd he get here?”

Magnus steps around the dog and slips a hand down to hold Alec's, letting the other drop to the dog's head. “Oh I summoned him. I missed him. Although that feeling was short-lived.” He looks around at the destruction in his living room and Alec's gaze follows his to the ripped pillows and gnawed chair legs.

“Can't you?” Alec splays his fingers and twists his wrist, indicating magic.

“I wish. Magic can't undo what a hellhound has done.”

Alec winces. “Unfortunate.”

“Very,” Magnus agrees.

“Well,” Alec says, looking again at the dog nuzzling into Magnus' waist and searching for the up side. “He's pretty.”

“He's tyrannical,” Magnus replies, though he looks a bit startled. Giving up on getting any meaningful attention from Magnus, the dog wanders in the direction of the bedroom and Alec sees the grief on Magnus' face before he sighs and gives the cause of his bedroom up for lost. “You're the reason I prefer cats!” he calls after the dog. “Well one of the reasons,” he corrects himself under his breath. “Can I interest you in a drink, dear heart?” he asks Alec, spinning to face him, still holding his hand.

Alec smiles at him and squeezes his fingers. “Please.”

Magnus smiles back and starts to pull away to head to the drink cart on the other side of the room, but Alec tugs him back in, bringing him against his chest just this side of roughly. Surprised, Magnus blinks up at him. Alec doesn't give him a moment to regain his balance, cupping the side of his face and leaning down for a kiss that leaves Magnus gasping.

“You're getting,” Magnus licks his lips and tries to blink himself back to reality, “very good at the whole,” he waves a hand, rings knocking against Alec's chest, “casual intimacy thing.”

Beaming, Alec thanks him with another kiss, placed gently at the edge of his mouth. “I'm trying.”

“You're succeeding,” Magnus informs him, taking a wobbly step towards the cart again. Alec doesn't let his fingers slip away, stepping with him so that they can keep holding hands. Catching on, Magnus grips tighter and uses his other hand to conjure the drinks so they're ready when they get there. He hands Alec his whiskey sour before taking up his cocktail and clinking their glasses for the same toast they make each time. “To us.”

“To us,” Alec repeats and takes a healthy swig. Magnus smiles at him around the rim of his own glass.

They move to the couch, Alec bringing Magnus against him with one arm. Both resolutely ignore the sound of fabric tearing from the other room, in favor of exchanging soft kisses.

“Why else do you prefer cats?” Alec asks after a few minutes, mouth against Magnus' temple, lips just a little sticky with liquor.

Magnus gestures at his eyes, where his ever-present glamour remains. Alec would like to ask him to take the glamour down when it's just them, but he has no confidence in his ability to get the words out, so that request is still on hold.

“There's an...affinity there,” Magnus explains, sipping on his second cocktail, which Alec hadn't even noticed him conjure.

“Is that why all the strays in New York end up on your terrace?”

Magnus laughs. “Actually, yes. That and I'm a sucker for small fuzzy things." He shakes his head self-deprecatingly. "Those are the most well-fed strays in the country.”

It's Alec's turn to laugh now, but he's interrupted by a terrible crash from the other room.

Magnus curses in a language Alec neither knows nor recognizes and begins building swirling red magic in one hand. “Time to go home, you unholy terror,” he calls towards the bedroom and they hear nails start skittering on the hardwood floor.

“Wait --” Alec grabs Magnus' forearm, carefully below the swell of power in that hand. “I was hoping – Can I pet him?”

Dumbfounded, Magnus rescinds his magic with a snap. “You want to...pet the hell-spawned beast?”

There's something in the phrase “hell-spawned beast” when Magnus says it that Alec doesn't like, but as he can't quite put his finger on what, he just nods.

“Okay...” Magnus says slowly and whistles. The dog comes running at the command, knocking items off every table between him and them with the force of the enthusiasm in his enormous body. He skids to a stop in front of Magnus, tongue lolling, panting. “Be good,” Magnus warns the animal, snapping a symbol of some sort into being above his palm in front of Alec for the dog to see. He snaps it gone again and Alec offers the dog his hand to sniff, feeling the burn of its breath against his knuckles, hellfire sparking in its throat. He rides it out until the dog seems content to let his hand ease up towards its head. He scratches behind its ear and immediately the dog clambers into his lap, staking a claim.

Alec grins over at Magnus, who's been pushed away from him by the dog, finding him looking at him curiously.

“What's his name?” Alec asks.

“In Hell, something that translates to something like,” he pauses to think, “ruination. And blood and...glory, but as one concept. I've always just called him Roo because of--” the dog, displeased that Alec's hand has stilled in his distraction, interrupts him with a high wailing noise that sounds just like the onomatopoeia that is his name.

“Because of that,” Magnus finishes when Alec has resumed his scratching and Roo has quieted again.

“You call a hellhound 'Roo,'” Alec confirms, smitten. Magnus tries to shrug, but Alec has grabbed hold of him over Roo and pulled him in for a kiss before he can.

“In my defense,” Magnus says when they part, both breathing heavy, “I was ten.”

“Oh god,” Alec says, choking and dropping his head to Magnus' shoulder. “Ten-year-old you with a hellhound named Roo that's –.”

“That's what?” Magnus prompts, jostling him gently.

“Adorable,” Alec chokes out against Magnus' collarbone.

Magnus, stunned, says, “I didn't even know you knew that word.”

“I have two younger siblings,” Alec defends himself, drawing himself back up indignantly, “ – well three, but only two to whom this applies – of course I know the word 'adorable.' You should've seen Izzy as a toddler.”

Smiling, Magnus touches Alec's cheekbone with gentle fingers. “I hope you have pictures.”

“I have so many pictures,” Alec confirms. “Unfortunately, a lot of them were taken by me and I was eight at the time so.”

“You were the one taking pictures?”

Alec laughs. “I stole my dad's camera and wouldn't give it back. They finally had to buy another one.” His tone saddens. “Not that they used it much then. I don't think we've taken any photos of each other in years. A decade maybe? Except, of course, for the selfies Izzy makes me and Jace take with her.”

Magnus smiles, running his fingers down Alec's neck. On the coffee table, his phone lights up with a notification, revealing the picture of Alec that is his background. It's a cropped version of one of those selfies that Alec is talking about: Only Alec – and a few curls of Isabelle's hair – shows. Alec, recognizing it, drops his jaw and points. Magnus makes to apologize, but Alec cuts him off. “I don't have a picture of you,” he cries, indignant and wronged. “C'mere.” He pulls Magnus towards him and hikes his hip up to reach his phone in his back pocket, Roo snuffling as he's wakened from the nap he'd been taking strewn across Alec's thighs. He fumbles it out and swipes it unlocked before handing it to Magnus, saying, “You've gotta take it from here. I'm shit at selfies.”

“How do you know I'm not?” Magnus teases, accepting the phone.

“Please,” Alec scoffs. “You're the only reason I know what Instagram is.”

Magnus pauses to look at him. “You've seen my Instagram?”

“Yeah. I don't follow it, because I don't have one, but I do look at it. On Izzy's phone.” He reaches to brush a thumb over Magnus' brow bone. “I like the ones where you have glitter around your eyes. Well,” he corrects, licking his lips slowly, “I like all of them, but especially those.”

“Alec,” Magnus says, breathlessly, helplessly.

“What?” Alec asks, but Magnus just shakes his head and holds the phone up to take the selfie. It takes a few tries, because Alec always forgets how to smile in front of a camera, but they finally get one they both like and Magnus sends it to himself, changing his phone background to it as Alec does the same.

“We're that couple,” Magnus says, pushing Roo off the couch so he can curl up against Alec again. Roo huffs, but meanders over to the window to continue his nap in the sun. “The couple with the matching picture-of-themselves phone backgrounds.”

Alec pulls him even closer, until Magnus is half in his lap. “That's a thing?”

Magnus smirks into Alec's neck. “It's a thing. An adorable thing. We're gonna make your siblings sick.”

Tilting his head to the side to give Magnus better access, Alec laughs. “Good,” he says. “It's their turn. Do you know how much I've had to hear about Clary and Simon? More than I needed to. Jace has a rudimentary understanding of boundaries at best. And I used to think him dating one person was bad.”

Magnus chuckles against Alec's neck before following a tendon up to Alec's jaw with his tongue. Alec moans and Magnus kisses the underside of his jaw before settling himself back against Alec's shoulder, his hand drawing sigils across Alec's chest.

“What was – ” Alec waves his hand, palm up, imitating the gesture Magnus had used to show the symbol to Roo.

“Oh,” Magnus says, stilling. “I introduced you to him as my...” he reaches for the translation, “'Above All Else.'”

Alec holds his breath and Magnus pulls away to look at him askance, like he can't face him.

“You don't have to – ” Magnus starts, but Alec interrupts him.

“I love you,” Alec gushes. “More than – more than anything, Magnus. Above all else, too. That's – me too.” He takes a breath to steady himself and then turns a shocked silent Magnus to face him, hands on Magnus' elbow. “You are my 'Above All Else', too, y'know. Of course you are.”

“Alexander,” Magnus breathes. “I have loved you above all else from the very first second." He splays his hands against Alec's chest. "Move in with me?”

Alec grabs him, hands on the sides of his face, and kisses him, tipping him backwards on the couch. “Yes,” he says against Magnus' lips, between kisses. “Yes, god, yes.” He pulls back to look at Magnus below him, flushed and beautiful. “Can't believe Jace beat me to that.”

Magnus laughs, loud and full, and brings his arms up around Alec's neck. “It'll be a little different for you than it was for Jace,” he promises, rolling his hips up against Alec's.

“Mm-hm?” Alec hums, biting his lip the way Magnus likes, drawing a moan from him with just that.

“Mm-hm,” Magnus confirms and is pulling Alec down to him when there's a banging at the door followed immediately by it swinging open. Magnus rolls his eyes, a sentiment Alec concurs with, and is just about to call out an annoyed greeting when Roo barrels towards their interrupter.

“Jesus! Fucking! Christ!” Jace cries as Roo comes into view. “That's a goddamn – you know what never mind.” And he leaves so fast that Alec knows a speed rune was involved.

Laughing, Alec lays his forehead against Magnus' chest, arms shaking around his boyfriend beneath him.

“Good boy,” Magnus coos at Roo, conjuring a treat and a fresh, bloody bone for the dog before getting back to the more important task of being debauched by Alec.

“Yes,” Magnus whispers in answer, shaking with relief.

Alec slips his other arm underneath Magnus, folding it across Magnus’ chest and clasping Magnus’ shoulder. Magnus clutches Alec’s forearm with both hands. Alec places a tender kiss on the back of Magnus’ neck and a tear rolls down Magnus’ cheek onto his pillow.

They lay together for an hour; Alec trying to press his face into all the skin of Magnus’ he can reach, Magnus trying to match their breathing, their heartbeats. He imagines himself blending into Alec until the thought of letting his feet touch the floor doesn’t exhaust him. He takes a shuddering breath, feeling air hit the bottom of his lungs for the first time all day.

Alec tightens his hold on him, curling tighter around him. “Have you eaten today?” he murmurs against the knob of Magnus’ spine at the base of his neck. Magnus shakes his head.

“Okay. I’m gonna go fix us something, okay?” He pauses, but Magnus doesn’t answer him. “I’ll be back soon,” he promises and starts to draw himself carefully away from Magnus.

“Alexander,” Magnus says and Alec returns immediately to their previous position, pressed close. Magnus bows his head to kiss Alec’s wrist. “Just. Gimme a sec,” he asks, his voice creaking like unoiled hinges.

“Yeah of course.” Alec presses small kisses into the side of Magnus’ neck, each one deliberate and tender and soft.

“All right,” Magnus says finally. He releases his hold on Alec’s arm. Alec draws away slowly, separating them part by part. He kisses Magnus’ temple, lingering there, when he’s drawn away enough to sit up again. He shifts himself carefully off the bed and hesitates a moment before leaving the room, giving Magnus a chance to call him back if he needs to.

He hurries to the kitchen, grabbing a plate from where he finds them in the cabinet by the sink and piling it with everything he can find in Magnus’ fridge that looks light enough to sit well in sadness.

When he returns to the bedroom, he finds Magnus sitting up against the headboard, eyes closed. Magnus doesn’t open his eyes until Alec sits on the edge of the bed in front of him, plate of food balanced on his thigh.

“Thank you, Alexander,” he says, smiling small and weighted.

Alec leans forward and kisses him, working hard to put all the tenderness he feels into it. “You’re welcome,” he replies against Magnus’ lips before leaning back and holding up a strawberry in offering. Magnus sits up straight, crossing his legs beneath him and reaching a hand out to take the fruit, but Alec reaches past that hand to bring the berry to Magnus’ lips.

His smile lighter now, Magnus takes Alec’s wrist to steady them both and bites the strawberry in half, slipping the rest from Alec’s fingers to offer it to Alec in return. Alec almost can’t take the proffered bite past his gentle grin. Juice drips down Magnus’ palm when Alec finally accepts the fruit into his mouth and he turns his hand backward to caress Alec’s cheek with his knuckles. “Buah hatiku,” he murmurs, tender and aching.

Alec turns to kiss those knuckles and then brings another piece of fruit to Magnus’ lips. They feed each other, turn in turn, until they’re sated and sticky.

They’re kissing, lips on lips on cheeks on temples on necks and hands and wrists, on the inside of elbows, when Alec presses a thumb against Magnus’ lips, which Magnus licks, tasting peach and strawberry. Alec laughs lightly, places his whole hand against Magnus cheek to emphasize the point he was making of their disarray, which Magnus had so studiously missed. Magnus’ wrinkles his nose at the stick of Alec’s palm against his face and Alec laughs again.

“We should probably…” Alec takes a moment to consider the depth of their mess, sticky lip tracks up and down each other, assessing the degree of clean up they need, “shower,” he finishes.

Magnus looks suddenly exhausted.

“Together,” Alec clarifies, reaching his other hand to rest against Magnus’ other cheek. “I’ve got you.”

Magnus smiles again, bringing a hand up to lay on top of Alec’s. “I suppose you want to do this now?”

Alec chuckles. “Better now than after we’ve made everything in your house sticky.”

Magnus nods. “There are more fun ways to do that.”

Alec chokes on air and blushes so red that Magnus can nearly feel the warmth of it. He brings his hand to his mouth to hide his smile, but Alec sees it anyway. Grinning, Alec shakes the blush away – or tries to – before leaning forward, slowly, catching Magnus’ eye while he bites his bottom lip, to run his tongue up Magnus’ jaw. Magnus moans as his eyes slide closed, hands coming up to hold Alec’s face, only to find Alec no longer there. He blinks himself aware again to see Alec sitting where he had been once more, grinning cat that ate the canary.

“You give as good as you get,” Magnus breathes. “I’ll give you that.”

Alec’s smile widens and he stands, offering Magnus his hand. Magnus accepts and is pulled into Alec’s arms, Alec’s face resting in Magnus’ hair and its day old gel, which Alec doesn’t seem to mind in the slightest. Magnus completes the hug by wrapping his arms around Alec in return.

“Now our clothes need washed,” Magnus points out, but Alec just shrugs. Magnus smiles the small, secret smile that’s Alec’s alone.

They linger for a moment more before Alec steps back, taking Magnus’ hand and leading him into the bathroom. They undress each other gently, hands wandering over each new section of skin as it’s revealed. They pile their clothes at their feet. Alec steps into the shower to get the water temperature right before pulling Magnus in after him. Magnus trips at the tug on his hand and stumbles into Alec’s chest. They laugh beneath the spray, open and joyous. Alec shakes his drenched hair in Magnus’ direction when Magnus steps from beneath the water to compose himself.

“Incorrigible,” Magnus mutters, the fond tone of his voice turning the scold into an expression of affection. Alec grins, but bows his head in mock apology before extending his hand to draw Magnus in again, which Magnus graciously accepts.

They kiss as the water washes the fruit residue from their skin, every attempt they make at getting soap on each other’s bodies derailed by their inability to part their mouths for any significant length of time. The water runs cold and they give up on making any headway there. For a long time after they shut the water off, they stand, dripping, foreheads together as the air clears. Their hands are clasped; their eyes are closed. Magnus thinks that the rest of his life could be this and only this and it would be more fulfilling than any of the centuries before. Alec’s breath – it’s sound, the feel of it against his face, the heart that beats behind it – is the universe’s most beautiful accomplishment.

After the last rivulets of water have slid down their skin, Alec asks, “Is this day…”

“An anniversary of something?” Magnus finishes for him. He pulls back just enough to see Alec nod. “No.” He draws one of his hands up to Alec’s elbow. “Just a bad day.”

“Depression doesn’t need a reason,” Alec intones.

Magnus smiles at him. It’s sad and hopeful and proud. “Exactly.”

Alec presses a gentle kiss to Magnus’ lips. “Wanna –” he starts, but cuts himself off. “I don’t know what people do for fun that isn’t fighting or practicing fighting.”

Magnus laughs and kisses the hand of Alec’s that he still holds. “How do you feel about musicals?”

Alec considers. “I think I saw one once.”

Magnus laughs again. “Let’s get dressed and I’ll introduce you to my favorites of ‘90s Bollywood. You’ve got a few hours?”

Alec leans in til his mouth hovers above Magnus’, their eyes locked. “I’ve got my whole life. And you can have as much as you want.”