#katwriting

They don't get a moment to themselves for the next approximately 48 hours. Between the official family reunion, the photo session, the stiff, black-tie event that is Christmas Eve, and the photographed walk to the church service on Christmas morning, Henry feels like he doesn't get a moment to breathe either.

So when Arthur suggests going for a walk on the early afternoon of the 26th, Henry doesn't have to think twice. He makes sure to drive Philip off Rainbow Road one last time for good measure, then hands the controller to Bea and abandons their heated game of Mario Kart.

"Make sure to bring a scarf, you two. I don't need either of you to get sick," Catherine calls after them from where she's snuggled up in the window seat with a book and a fluffy blanket. Arthur makes a show of rolling his eyes, but begrudgingly grabs thick scarves for the both of them from the wardrobe by the door.

When they step out of the castle and the crisp December air hits them, Henry feels like he is taking his first proper breath in days. He lets out a sigh, his breath forming a little cloud in the cold air in front of his face.

Arthur looks over at him and smirks. "I suppose you are about as tired of all of this as I am?"

"You have no idea," Henry says, his shoes scuffling over the pebbles. "Sometimes I wish I'd stayed at Eton for the holidays. But then again, Pez is not coming back until the new year, so."

Arthur makes an offended noise. "You wound me, son. First you stay away from us all year, and then you can't bring yourself to show some excitement about seeing your old man. I can't believe I raised such an ungrateful traitor. I must speak to your mother about this, maybe there's still a chance we can return you."

Henry laughs and bumps his shoulder into Arthur's as they continue walking down the misty trail.

They walk for about an hour and venture into the public area of the Sandringham Estate, their PPOs walking discreetly behind them. Arthur has been working with the same ones for years. He trusts them, so Henry trusts them too. 

(He might also trust them because they discreetly got him out of a number of potentially very embarrassing situations over the past year or two. Anyway. Details.)

They are about halfway on their way back to the castle, when an elderly man with a dog walks by. A beagle, fur already slightly gray around the eyes. When they pass, the dog ventures over and barks at them accusingly. 

"Dolly, stop it!", its owner says and closes the distance between them. "I'm terribly sorry, she's usually nicer to people. But you know, when they are in one of their moods," he says, completely unaware of who he is talking to.

"Oh, it's quite alright," Arthur says and crouches down to scratch the beagle between its ears. It stops barking immediately. "I used to have one just like that when I was young. Had him for almost fifteen years, he was a good lad."

The man nods. "Oh yes, if you are lucky they get quite old. Dolly here is turning 12 next month, aren't you, girl? I got her as a present for my wife, and after my Nina passed away last year, the old girl has been keeping me company."

Dolly has now moved on from enjoying Arthur's attention to giving Henry her best attempt at puppy dog eyes. And despite her obviously old age, she is still quite effective. Henry laughs and crouches down to scratch her between the ears. The dog positively melts at the attention. 

Arthur watches him with a fond smile. "They make for great friends, don't they? Especially when you're lonely. I always wanted to get our kids one, but never got around to it."

"You know, it's never too late for a belated Christmas present," Henry jokes from the ground. He gets up and brushes the dust of his pants. "Or you could put it on the list for next year. I'm sure Mum would be thrilled."

When they have walked on and the man and his dog are out of earshot, Henry leans over to his dad. "Also, having a dog running around Sandringham on Christmas Eve would make Gran go so mad. Just imagine that."

Arthur laughs loudly. "It would, wouldn't it? Even more reason to get one. Maybe next year."

+++

Two

Wales, December 2015

They don't go to Sandringham next year. 

In fact, they don't really do much for Christmas at all. Neither of them feels like celebrating, given the circumstances. If Bea hadn't called Henry and practically begged him to come home for the holidays, Henry would have stayed at Oxford. Even the Queen, despite her longstanding indifference towards Arthur, respects their choice to stay away from the extended family celebrations without comment.

They go to the country house in Wales instead, just the four of them. But they don't get much into a holiday spirit there, either.

The thing is, while Catherine found some hiding places back in London, the country house was all Arthur. It's not even an official royal residence, just an old house near a small town that Arthur bought some time after his first Bond movie and used as a hideaway whenever the press and the attention in London got too much. Henry has heard many stories about how he and Catherine would camp out here when they were younger, get to know each other without the scrutinizing glances of the public and the even more scrutinizing glares of courtiers and the queen. He found out later that this was also where Arthur proposed to Catherine, way before they had even thought of asking for the queen's official approval. The movie star and the rebel princess at their best.

His presence in the house is everywhere – in the fluffy old rugs that he picked, the old chimney he'd light a fire in whenever they were here in the winter, the family photos on the wall. He is everywhere and nowhere at all, the memories of him light as the wind drafting through the hallway, yet weighing heavier than the old bricks that carry the roof.

Maybe that's an appropriate analogy, Henry thinks – his father was the foundation that kept their family together. Now that he's gone, they stray apart, like a home that's been dismantled by a storm. 

And in in the eye of the storm, there is nothing but quiet. Cold, empty, suffocating quiet. 

When Henry feels like he can't take it anymore, he grabs Catherine's keys to unlock the backdoor and steps out into the garden. There are a few concrete steps leading down from the patio to the lawn – his siblings and him spent many summers drawing on them with chalk – and Henry almost slips when he walks. He catches himself on the railing – Arthur put it there after he almost broke a leg once slipping just like Henry almost did. The backyard is abandoned, the grass more brown than green. The sky is covered by heavy clouds and there is thick fog clouding Henry's vision.

It almost feels like Wales misses Henry's dad too. 

Henry steps over the wet grass towards the old oak tree in the corner of the garden. There is a swing hanging from a strong branch that he remembers building with his father and Philip, back in the day. Before.

Henry's stomach lurches as he realizes that this is what his life is going to feel like from now on – split into a before and an after.  

He leans heavily against the tree and squeezes his eyes shut to fight back the tears. It's ironic, really. Considering the amount of crying he has done over the past months, he should be out of tears by now. But apparently life won't even grant him that small favor.   His gaze drifts over to the swing. It's still there, swaying softly in the wind, just like it has for years. For winter holidays, autumn getaways, long weekends in early spring when it was still too cold to stay outside for too long. But it no longer reminds Henry of all those happy memories. Instead, the sight of it just stings. 

He remembers building the swing as clearly as though it happened days, not years ago: His dad coming home from an incognito trip to the hardware store, searching in the shed for the right piece of wood. Picking the right tree with his dad and Philipp. His mom's voice calling from the patio, warning them to be careful. Philipp spraining his wrist anyway when an attempted jump from the swing went wrong one day. Himself sitting on the swing, his legs dangling in the air and Arthur next to him on the ground, flipping through an old script. Bea and Philipp playing ball in the grass, Catherine sunbathing nearby.

Just a few short months ago, those moments were memories he looked back on fondly. Now, they feel like relicts from a different time. Henry looks at the old swing, contemplates sitting on it to see if it will make him feel any different, any better, make him hurt any less. 

Instead, he sighs because he already knows the answer. 

He turns his back on the tree, the swing and the memories, and heads back into the house. His jacket is still on the armrest of the sofa, just where he has carelessly left his stuff for years. His mother would always playfully scold him, tell him to clean up after himself. This year, she doesn’t. Henry's not even sure she realized the jacket was there. Just another one of those things that Arthur's death ripped away from them. 

He passes through the hallway and walks out the front door. The PPOs are stationed outside the fence as usual. Henry throws their head of security a hopeful glance. She doesn't acknowledge it, but when her colleagues set off to follow him, she holds them back.

Henry shoots her a little smile. His favorite person on the royal staff might be Shaan, but there is a reason she comes in at a very close second place.

He's made it just a few steps down the road when someone calls his name. When Henry turns around, Bea is following him with quick little steps, bundled up in that ratty trench coat she claims is vintage and a scarf that could better be described as a middle-sized blanket.

"Going somewhere?", she calls after him.

"Can't stay at the house," Henry mutters. His soles drag over the wet pavement. He kicks a rogue pebble out of the way.

Bea catches up to him in a matter of moments. She stops and looks at him for a moment, really looks at him. It's one of those looks she gets when she sees right through him. He hates that look. 

"Mind if I join you?"

Henry shrugs and doesn't say anything. But he doesn't send her away either.

They walk in silence for a while, passing by a house or a street sign every now and then, but otherwise not running into a single person. This is what Henry loves about this place. The remoteness of it all, the ability for them to be just them, away from the prying eyes of the public and the even more prying eyes of the people at Gran's court.

They make it to the little town's center and are walking down the main street lined by little shops and a handful of pubs and coffee shops. There are a few more people here, but they don't recognize them. And if they do, they have the decency not to bother them. 

"He loved this place so much," Bea says.

Henry sighs. "I know. We came here so often."

He looks around the familiar shop displays decorated with Christmas lights, the coffee shops selling gingerbread flavored everything, the warm light that comes out from the pub windows. 

It's almost like nothing changed. Except everything did.

His throat closes up and he takes a deep breath to swallow down the wave of emotion that suddenly hits him. 

Grief really is the most unpredictable bastard.

Bea doesn't say anything, but takes his hand and squeezes it gently. 

Suddenly, she stops and points at a building that's still brightly lit although it's past 4pm on December 23rd.  

Maisie's Pet Shelter, the sign across the door says.

Bea frowns. "Well that one's new for sure."

She nods towards the place. "Wanna head in?"

And Henry would do just about anything to get away from the kind, but still curious eyes from the old ladies having coffee in the little shop across the street. So he nods.

"Sure."

***

There's nobody there when they walk into the shelter – just the front desk, a computer, a bunch of flowers and a few pictures of all kinds of pets on the brightly colored walls. But as soon as they walk in, a bell chimes over their heads and announces their entrance.

"Be right there!", a bright voice calls from behind the doorway that leads out of the reception area and is covered with a colorful curtain. Quick steps approach and a moment later, a young woman walks through, auburn curls bouncing with every step. She smiles at them when she sees them standing in her shop. "Hello, welcome! I'm Maisie! How can I help you?"

Bea smiles at her. "Oh, we just stopped by to check out your shelter. Are you new here?"

The woman – Maisie – nods. "I am, I just opened it a few months ago. Would you like a tour?"

Henry nods and speaks up for the first time since they entered the shop. "Why not?"

Turns out a tour through a shelter full of adorable pets of all ages is exactly what Henry needed. Maisie happily shows them around the different rooms and introduces them to all kinds of animals – from adorable hamsters and rabbits up to pigs, a pony and even a donkey that's deaf and half-blind, but no less adorable. With each kennel they visit and each animal they get to pet and coo over, the iron grip of sadness around Henry's heart seems to lighten a little more.

That is, until they make it to the part of the shelter that houses the latest arrivals and a kennel with a tiny beagle inside. As they walk up to it, the dog rises up on its chubby little feet and pads over to the kennel door. He yaps excitedly at Henry, even though it doesn't quite carry yet. 

Henry laughs and crouches down in front of the kennel. "Hello there," he says and reaches a finger through the bars. The beagle taps his cold little nose against them. 

"That's one of our newest arrivals," Maisie says from behind them. "We got him just a few days ago. He was supposed to be a Christmas present, but you know how people are sometimes. A friendly guy, that one. He made friends with all of our other dogs. Even with Mr Wobbles over here. They have been inseparable ever since the little guy arrived here."

Henry looks up and sees her pointing towards – well, the most giant cat he has ever seen. It is sitting in the corner, preening and waving its tail, just a few feet away from the little beagle's bed. Henry can't quite pinpoint what it is, but something in the cat's glare unsettles him.

Bea, not so much.

"Oh my god", she coos as soon as she sees the cat. She walks over and starts petting it. Henry can hear the cat's weird purrs all the way from over where he's still busy petting the dog. "Mr Wobbles, though?," Bea says, "what a funny name for a cat."

Maisie grins. "His previous owners named him. A lovely old couple, but they were moving to a retirement home and couldn't bring him with them. They said their grandkids named him and the name sort of stuck."

She tells Bea more about the cat, but Henry is only half listening. The little beagle has now moved on to sniffing Henry's hand, the one that isn't busy scratching the dog's ears. When Henry stops for a second, the beagle nudges its head against his had – as though it wants to tell him to go on. When he does, the puppy lets out a satisfied little noise and settles down next to Henry, looking up at him his enormous dark brown puppy eyes.

Henry is melting.  

Maisie's voice draws him out of puppy heaven and back to the present. "They are both still available for adoption, you know? Just in case that is something you both are interested in," she adds, smirking. 

Bea looks at him from where she's still snuggling the gigantic cat, its hair all over her coat and a mischievous glint in her eyes. "What do you say, brother? Fancy being reckless?"

Two weeks later, Kensington Palace gets two furry new residents and Maisie's Pet Shelter receives a sizeable donation. Along with it, she's delivered a giant flower bouquet with a card and a photo. It's Bea and Henry in the music room back at Kensington Palace, the young beagle snuggled up in Henry's lap and Mr Wobbles sitting next to Bea, eating what appears to be an entire box of…Jaffa Cakes?

"Merry belated Christmas! Thank you for introducing us to the best Christmas presents we have ever gotten for ourselves. Love – Henry, Bea, Mr Wobbles & David"

Three

London, Summer 2016

Henry never thought of himself as a dog person. Or just a pet person in general. 

All of that changed once David came into his life – all soft fur, floppy ears, midnight cuddles and that adorable glance he gets when he wants a treat. Ever since, Henry's world absolutely revolves around his fluffy new roommate. And David quickly turns into much more of a friend than Henry expected.

He is there for everything – the good times and the bad, the happy and sad days, the first anniversary of Arthur's death. Henry's dating disasters and subsequent breakups, Bea's relapse, Philipp's stubbornness. Catherine's empty glance, the Queen's snide comments and Henry's bad moods about her snide comments. He is there when Henry feels like ranting, when he needs someone to listen, when could use a run to clear his head, or when he just needs to curl up in his room and shut the world out for a while. 

Most importantly, David is there when Henry comes home from Rio.

His time in Brazil passed by in a whirlwind of heat and handshakes, drinks with important people, polite smiles and meaningless conversations. A toxic mix of smiling for the cameras, discreetly accepting the pills Shaan hands him, just as discreetly taking them and all the while making sure nobody notices how he really feels just about a year after his father's death. 

But then, in the middle of it all, shining bright like a lightning rod and just as electric: A head full of dark curls, a yellow flower tucked into the pocket of a loose button-down shirt. A Texan drawl. A smile so bright it stood out even among the most flashing of camera lights around them. 

Alex Claremont-Diaz.

The son of the woman who might be America's next president. Radiant, confident, unapologetic, and without a single ounce of doubt the most gorgeous human beings Henry has ever seen. And thus, completely off limits. 

At least that's what he has been telling himself to at least somehow justify the fact that he behaved like an absolute idiot when Alex simply wanted to introduce himself.  

He's back in his room at Kensington, sitting on the sofa by the window, wrapped up in his oldest cardigan and stress-eating a truly embarrassing amount Jaffa cakes. David is curled up by the fire place, and has been listening to him ranting about his fabulous first encounter with Alex Claremont-Diaz for the better part of an hour now. 

Every now and then, he gives Henry a sympathetic wince or barks a little. Henry tells himself that's David's way of trying to cheer him up. Maybe he also just wants to go for a walk. Unfortunately, neither scenario is in the cards until Henry has found a way out of his predicament.

"Can you believe it?", he goes on. "For once in my life, I meet this absolutely gorgeous, charming person and all I can do is make him believe I'm too arrogant to talk to him?"

David gives him another little sympathetic wince. He pads over from his spot near the fireplace, eyes the distance between the floor and where Henry is sitting, then hops up and into Henry's lap. David has gotten much better at that, Henry realizes – when he was a puppy, he could barely climb over the edge of his dog bed. Now, he jumps onto the couch or Henry's bed like it's nothing. 

Henry scratches him behind his floppy little ears. David stretches out his paws and yawns in satisfaction. 

"And you know what's the worst bit?", Henry goes on. "I had a plan, David. I was going to get the Olympics over with, preferably without completely embarrassing myself and then go on a nice holiday or something. Just…get away from everything for a while. Think about what I'm going to do next. No drama allowed. And yet, here I am."

David looks at him from his big brown dog eyes. Henry thinks there's something understanding in them. 

He looks at his dog, who from the looks of it, couldn't be more comfortable if he tried.  "You're such a good boy, aren't you? I wish I could switch places with you sometimes. You don't have to worry about gorgeous Americans who will probably never talk to you again."

"Well that sounds depressing," a voice chirps from his door.

Henry jumps and turns around to see his sister standing in the doorway. She's got a smug smile on her face and that awful cat of hers on her arm. Henry swears Mr Wobbles gained at least another five pounds since he last saw him before Rio.

"You know, you need to stop feeding Mr Wobbles so many treats."

"Nonsense. He's a little small for his weight, is all."

Scoffing, Henry looks at the frankly gigantic cat who, even though he is a goddamn cat, manages to somehow stare right back at him. Smugly. 

"Anyway, stop trying to distract me from the giant rainbow-colored elephant in the room. Why don't you just apologize to Alex?"

"How would you know I was even talking about Alex?"

Bea shoots him a look. 

Henry sighs. "Fine. But seriously, how would I do that? It's not like we exchanged contact details before I behaved like an absolute arse to him."

"You know, there's this thing called the internet," Bea deadpans, "and another one called Instagram DMs. Welcome to the 21st century, brother. I'm starting to think all these books about regency England are starting to rub off on you."

Henry grabs the nearest pillow and throws it at her. "Stop Austen-shaming me in my moment of crisis. Her books are still better than whatever you're reading. What was that again? People and the latest trending threads on Twitter?"

Moments later, the pillow comes right back at him. "Stop trying to change the subject, then!" 

Bea walks over to the couch and sits down next to him, reaches for his Jaffa cakes and feeds one to Mr Wobbles. "So. What happened with the American?" 

Henry sighs. "Where do I start? We were at the diving finals, and I ran into him backstage and he introduced himself and wanted to shake my hand and I…well, I wasn't really in a mood to talk to anyone because that day was absolute hell and packed with boring people, and then there was Alex and I sort of panicked and I sort of…asked Shaan to get rid of him?

Bea gives him one of those looks she always gives him when she knows he fucked up, but doesn't want to tell him so. "You did not."

If the floor was so kind as to open a hole for Henry to jump into, he would do so without a second thought. Right about now. "I did. And I could punch myself in the face for it. But I still did and now the possible future First Sone of the United States it going to hate me for the rest of his life."

"You're an idiot."   "I know." 

"Also you are gone on him."

"I know. A terrible decision, really." 

Bea chuckles and feeds Mr Wobbles another one of Henry's Jaffa cakes. Henry is so distraught he doesn't even bother telling her off. 

She looks at her obese cat for a moment, then back at him. "I mean, now that I heard the story I have to admit you're right. You did behave like an arse. And Alex might hate you now, sure. But who knows – you might get lucky within all of this."

Henry frowns. "What do you mean?"

"His mum is just a presidential candidate for now, isn't she? Maybe she ends up losing and you'll never have to see him again. Presto, problem solved."

"Maybe", Henry concedes, picking at a loose thread in the couch cushion. "I'll just hope for the best."

He doesn't tell her that never seeing Alex again is the absolute last thing he wants. But then again, it would make things a lot easier for him, wouldn't it? So maybe it would not be such a bad thing. Maybe Bea is right after all.

Six months later, Henry wakes up to the news that the next president of the United States is going to be Ellen Claremont. 

Upon reading the news, he drops his phone on the mattress next to him and yells into his pillow. Apparently, easy isn't in the cards for him for another while. 

Certainly not for the next four years.

Four

London, Summer 2018

It is, indeed, everything but easy. But thankfully, David is there to listen to Henry as always. 

Even when he's acting like a hopelessly lovesick fool. 

Especially then. 

Five

London, December 2020

It's another one of those early, gloomy winter mornings and Henry is out at the park with David. David is antsy today, tugging at his leash, wagging his tail, and barking at every other tree they pass. His excitement proves to be contagious – even Henry finds himself in quite a good mood today. Ever since the disaster at Philip's wedding (Martha has been dragging his ass for weeks about it), him and Alex have been talking more or less every day. Alex's texts come in at all hours of the day and night, sometimes at such an ungodly hour that Henry gets slightly worried about Alex's sleep schedule. Or just…his general ability to sleep.  But nevertheless, they are a beacon of light in otherwise dull days and Henry would not miss them for the world. Even if his own sleep schedule has to suffer for a bit. 

As they're walking, Henry's phone chimes with a new message. Given that it is just past 6 am on a Sunday and there is no humanly possible way Pez has risen from the dead yet, there is only one person the message could be from. 

ACD 🦃 I have a situation. Some help please?

Upon reading the message, Henry lets out an exasperated sigh and tries to ignore the treacherous warmth bubbling up in his chest. He sits down at a park bench and clicks the extend button on David's leash. On second thought, he lets out a sharp whistle and waits until David abandons the puddle he'd been inspecting and trots over to him.

"Sit, David", Henry says and scratches David behind the ears. He unclicks David's leash altogether and takes David's favorite toy out of his messenger bag. He tosses it out into the meadow. "Go on, mate. This might take a while."

As David trots away, tail wagging happily, Henry hits the video call button on his phone and waits for it to connect. Ever since The Great Turkey Calamity, they found that video calls were a lot more convenient for them. Alex says it's because he needs Henry to "see my goddamn face and gestures" for him to really get his point across. Henry just happily obliges him. 

When Alex picks up, Henry spots familiar glass paneling and a stack of comic books in the corner.

"The solarium this time?"

Alex sighs and runs a hand over his face. He looks tired. "Yeah. I needed somewhere quiet. Leo's on some engagement with mom tonight and June rarely comes up here. So."

"Hm."

A beat. Alex twists one of his curls around his fingers. It's only then that Henry realizes that he is once again perched upside down on one of the chairs up there. It makes Henry smile a little.

"Where are you? That doesn't look like Kensington Palace to me."

"Just out for a walk."

"Before 7 am on a Sunday." Alex doesn't even try to make it sound like a question.

Henry raises an eyebrow. "You're one to talk. What time is it now for you, 2 am?"

"Point."

Henry shrugs. "So what was that situation you talked about?"

Alex runs a hand over his face. "The fucking color scheme for New Year's."

Henry raises an eyebrow. "Come again?"

"The color scheme for, you know, the New Year's Young America Gala? The party we use as a ruse each year in order to get absolutely fucking wasted with half of the hottest young people of the country? The one we throw literally every year and that's like…the hottest New Year's Party in the country? Come on, Henry, pay attention. I can't do all the work here."

Henry rolls his eyes fondly. "Alright then. So what's going on about the color scheme?"

"It's more like what isn't going on about the color scheme at this point, man. Nora wants rainbow colors, June wants pastel, the PR department wants red, white and royal blue…and for some reason, everyone keeps annoying me about it. Do I look like  a goddamn expert on fuckin' party confetti colors to you?"

"Well you are one of the hosts, so…"

"Ha ha. Very funny. You know, if I wanted someone to be all smart about it, I could have just talked to June."

Henry smirks. "Where is she, anyway?"

"Fuck if I know. She's been obsessing over the guest list all day and now her and Nora have gone MIA, but left me pretty clear instructions that I am to take care of the confetti thing."

"So I am your lone help in solving this color-coded matter?"

"Sort of."

Letting his gaze wander over the meadow, Henry smirks. David is apparently done inspecting  a pile of leaves and is now coming back towards the bench. 

"Well, lucky for you I shall not be the only one you have to rely on in this very delicate matter. We got some help." He whistles sharply and David's little feet speed up as they close the last few steps up to the bench. He hops up and nudges Henry's elbow, making the hand holding his phone wobble a bit. 

Alex's tinny voice perks up as he puts two and two together. "Oh wait, is David here too? Let me say hi! Hi David!"

Henry sighs fondly. "Alright. Say hi, mate." He lowers the phone so Alex gets a screenful of adorable, slightly muddy Beagle. "Alex has an issue that he would like to discuss with us. And we need your help since you're the best with just about everything."

"Hey little buddy," Alex coos through the phone, "God, you're so adorable. Okay listen, I gotta pick colors for this party thing and your dad is no help, so you have to help me out here, alright?"

David tilts his little head to the side a little bit, just like when he's listening to Henry. If Henry weren't so absolutely gone on Alex, he would find it a little disquieting how easily David opened up to him. But then again, he's one to talk.

Luckily, Alex doesn't notice any of Henry's internal turmoil. Instead, he is busy explaining the New Year's Party to David, in all detail.

"…So, we got option A, rainbows. You know, the colorful things on the sky when it's just rained and the sun comes out and it looks all pretty and colorful and –"

"Dogs don't see all colors, Alex", Henry chimes in.

"-don't listen to your dad, I think that you could do anything you want to do. Anyway, so we got the rainbow option…"

David stays silent.

On the screen, Alex grins. "Hm, no? Okay, then the other option would be pastel colors, you know like flowers in the spring when they're just coming out and-"

A bug flies by. David tries to eat it.

"I see how it is then. Okay, David, so last option – we got this dark blue theme going on with like –"

At that, David barks and tries to lick the screen. Henry pulls his phone away at the very last second, but there's still a bit of dog slobber all over the screen.

Alex laughs. 

David blinks.

Henry melts. 

He clears his throat to cover it up. Luckily, it's Alex who keeps talking and Henry doesn't risk embarrassing himself any further.

"Well, looks like we got a decision. Thanks David, I appreciate it," Alex says, smirking. "You've been a great help. Much better than your dad."

"Hey! I brought the two of you together, it's not like I didn't do anything at all", Henry says to cover up the fact that he didn't do anything at all. 

On screen, Alex is now telling David how good of a dog he is and absently running his hand through his hair, making it just the tiniest bit messier than usual. A stray curl falls into his face.

Henry is officially going to die. 

Mercifully, Alex decides that he has tortured Henry enough for one day. 

"Alright y'all, thanks for helping me. I'm gonna let you all go continue your walk and pester June some more about the guest list. Talk to you soon."

When he hangs up, Henry lets out a sigh. He looks over at David, who is still sitting on the bench next to him and is looking at him quite quizzically. 

Henry sighs. "Stop looking at me like that. I already know I am in so much trouble."

***

The next day, Henry receives an email from Shaan.

June Claremont-Diaz has invited you to the Young America Gala on New Year's Eve. Would you like to attend? The invitation includes a plus one. Maybe Mr Okonjo would be interested in joining you?

Attached, as always, is a calendar invite. Shaan likes to have these things in order.

Henry has never clicked "Attend" to one of Shaan's calendar invites faster.

When he looks up, David is back by side, looking up at him with that slightly judging look he sometimes gets. Mostly when he knows Henry has done something stupid. Henry is sure he got that look from Mr. Wobbles.

He lets out a sigh and pets David's head. "Stop it. I'm only human."

And instead of pondering on it for much longer, he opens his chat thread with Pez and starts typing a new message.

What are you doing for New Year's?

Five

London, January 2020

He should have known.

Nothing good ever came from him actually being excited about something. About someone.

Henry really needs to stop putting himself into miserable situations like that. Well, actually, he just needs to stop kissing gorgeous Americans at New Year's and then running away.

He's back at Kensington, has been for a few days, but his mind is still under that Linden tree at the White House. Never actually left. At this point, Henry has some serious doubts that it ever will.

He gets up. Paces through the room. Sits back down. Yells into one of the ugly pillows on the even uglier couch. Makes a note in his mind that he needs to get a new one. If he doesn't die of embarrassment first, that is. Starts pacing again. 

However, none of it will make what happened on New Year's go away. It's all like a slow, torturing movie playing in the back of Henry's head – with the sole purpose of tormenting him and making him feel even more miserable about the whole thing. And if that doesn't suffice, there's always Alex's texts and phone calls.

He has been ignoring him for days now. Which would be fine if there weren't the state dinner later that month. Which Henry needs to attend. In person. And can't back out of because of their stupid best-friends-rouse agreement that's got him into this fucked up situation in the first place. 

It's not that Henry didn't try to get out of the state dinner. He actually talked to Shaan about it. Or at least, tried to. Until Shaan raised one unimpressed eyebrow and reminded him that unfortunately, Henry was bound to the agreement and there was nothing he could do "unless you would like to discuss this personally with Miss Bankston, sir."

Henry very much wouldn't.

He hates his life a lot of the time. But today just a little extra.

Even more so when the stylist calls and asks him what he would like to wear for the state dinner. When Philip texts and reminds him to make the new prime minister look good. When Shaan forwards him a briefing by the Downing Street press team about the photo ops they're going to have to do at the White House. When he finds a staged photo with the Prime Minister, the President and the White House Trio at the top of that very list. And just a little more when he learns that he is being sent on another one of those fake dates with some model or aspiring actress to keep up appearances. Which is of course going to be photographed and put into the press. For all the world, including Alex Claremont-Diaz, to see.

Henry is so royally fucked.

Even David winces a little when Henry tells him about his situation. When Henry eventually slouches on the couch, David hops up into his lap and snuggles into him. Henry lets out a sigh.

"You know, I'd like to tell myself that there's nothing that could possibly go wrong", he muses and scratches David's head, "but that's what I told myself last time. And now here we are."

David winces in support. He climbs into Henry's lap and lays down, rolling into a ball of fluff. His cold little nose touches Henry's hand. Somehow, it's a little soothing. 

Maybe there is a way to get through this. It's only a dinner, after all.

+ 1

New York, June 2021

"Love, hurry up. We're going to be late."

There's a curse coming from the vague direction of the bedroom, then the thud of footsteps rumbling down the stairs. Well, one footstep. Because for some reason, Alex is still pulling a sock over his other foot as he descends the staircase.

If they weren't almost late already, Henry would take a moment to appreciate that level of balance. 

Instead, he cocks an eyebrow at Alex from opposite the stairs, where he's leaning against the wall and waiting. Shoes (and socks) on, jacket in hand, ready to go.

"You're going to trip and break your neck at some point."

Alex grins smugly. "Perhaps. But at least I know you'll write me one hell of a eulogy."

Somehow, Alex makes it to the bottom of the staircase without breaking his neck. Henry is secretly glad for it. Not only because he intends to keep Alex around for the rest of his life, but also because – well, it would be quite the situation to explain to paramedics et al. Henry would much rather avoid that.

"Besides, what do you mean we're gonna be late?" Alex asks as he pulls one of Henry's old Oxford hoodies over his t-shirt. He walks over to the hallway closet and starts rummaging around for something. Henry internally winces as scarves, caps and the occasional dog outfit start dropping out at random. He just organized that closet the other day. "We're talking David for a walk. Last time I checked, beagles don't know how to read a clock."

"Excuse you, I did raise him to be very punctual," Henry counters.

Alex scoffs from where he's halfway disappeared into the closet. "He's a goddamn dog, H."

At that, David winces. 

Immediately, Alex steps away from the closet and crouches to the floor to pet David's head. "I'm sorry, buddy. I didn't mean that. You know I think you can do anything you set your mind to."

"You better," Henry mumbles. He and David take a step closer to the front door. Alex, not so much. 

Henry pointedly checks his watch again. "Come on now, or we're going to be late for real."

"It's still a walk, H. The two people and one dog involved in it are right here. There's no way we can be late", Alex mumbles, his voice muffled because he's back to rummaging around their winter clothes.

"Well, there is if two of the three involved individuals made lunch plans with June and Nora after."

"They're used to me being late. It's fine."

Henry rolls his eyes again, but relents anyway. It might have to do with the fact that Alex finally emerges from the closet, all soft eyes and even softer smile. After all, Henry is only a man.

So, he extends the arm that isn't holding David's leash and lets Alex step into his embrace. He pulls him close, breathes in the familiar scent. Alex wraps his arms around Henry's waist and lays his head against his shoulder. 

Henry drops a kiss on Alex's curls and lets himself enjoy the familiar warmth of Alex's hug for a minute. 

Until David yaps again, that is.

This time, Alex lets out a laugh. "Alright, alright, buddy.  Message received. We're leaving."

He leans up and kisses Henry softly, then plucks David's leash from his hand and steps away, towards the door. He shoots Henry a smirk. "You coming? I don't wanna be late."

It's only been a few months since Henry and David moved across the pond, but thanks to their daily walks, they have been able to explore plenty of nice routes in nearby parks. They are close enough to be enjoyable, but far enough away from the main trails to allow them a modicum of privacy.

Henry walks David before he leaves for the shelter and then once again after he comes home. Alex joins them often enough, particularly when he needs to clear his head, rant about his day, or both.

Today, however, is the rare kind of weekend where neither of them is all that busy and they can take a walk just for walking's sake. No deadlines, papers or exams breathing down Alex's neck (yet), no thoughts about the shelter occupying Henry's mind. Just the two of them and David, relaxing and enjoying the summer sun. 

Henry has David's leash in one hand and Alex's hand in the other, the sun is shining, but it's not unbearably hot yet. Later, they're going to meet June and Nora at a restaurant June has been dying to try out. And maybe check out the new Bond movie Alex has been nagging Henry about for weeks. But other than that, their day is blissfully empty.

Henry could get used to this.

He smiles softly at the thought. Because he does indeed get to get used to this. 

Alex's voice brings him back to reality and the track ahead of him. "What's so funny?"

"Oh, nothing. I was just thinking."

"Wanna share with the class?"

Henry gently shakes his head and lets go of Alex's hand so he can wrap his free arm around his shoulder. "It's nothing, really. I was just getting a bit sentimental. About how nice this is, you know? Taking David for a walk, meeting up for lunch with friends, and doing whatever we want, just because we can. It's a nice change."

Alex's arm snakes around Henry's waist and squeezes. "You deserve it."

Henry smiles. "I know. It's just sometimes a little hard to wrap my head around. But I do know."

He looks to Alex and meets his gaze. Alex's brown eyes are all soft again, and filled with pride. 

"Freedom looks good on you, baby."

The raw, honest emotion in his voice gets Henry a little emotional too, so instead of replying, he leans down and presses a soft kiss to Alex's lips. And Alex is right – there is something to be said about having the liberty to kiss his own boyfriend on a sunny day in a public park, just because he wants to. Especially when said boyfriend runs one hand through his hair and uses the other one to pull him closer, and they can let their kiss become slightly more involved than Henry initially intended. 

It's only when David pulls at his leash and barks that Henry pulls away to see what's going on, half alarmed that it might be something bad.

It is, actually, quite the opposite. A few steps down the path, David is approaching a puppy that looks heartwarmingly like David when Henry first met him. David barks once more, twice, then starts playing with the puppy as though they have been friends forever.

From the opposite end of  the pathway, a young woman comes running, looking alarmed and slightly panicky. When she spots the puppy playing with David, she slows down. 

"Sorry," she says towards Alex and Henry as she approaches, panting and face bright red. "I'm still trying to get him to get used to staying by my side, but it's a bit of a struggle."

"It's fine," Henry replies. "David here doesn't mind meeting new dogs."

 "I'm glad," the girl says. She's now caught up to them and stands next to them, watching the two dogs play. "You named him David? That's adorable."

"After Bowie," Alex chimes in. "My boyfriend here is a huge fan."

The girl laughs. "That's adorable. Mine's called Abby. Not after anyone. I wish I had a story as fun as yours, though," she says. "He's a beagle too, isn't he?"

Henry nods. "He is. I got him a few years ago when I was…not having the best of times. But he's been my best mate ever since."

His heart sinks a bit at the reminder of why and when he got David. As though he'd sensed it, Alex's hand sneaks into his, squeezing lightly. Henry squeezes back and clears his throat. 

"How long have you had yours?" he asks.

The girl laughs. "Oh, just a few weeks actually. I just moved to the city and didn't know anyone, and I was feeling a bit down and all, so I went to the shelter one day and there she was. And what can I say, that little rascal has been with me ever since. She's a piece of work sometimes, but she's a sweetheart. And she keeps me company through everything."

Henry hums and nods. "They are great company, aren't they?"

His gaze wanders over to David, who is still busy playing with his new friend. His tail is wagging, his little ears are flopping around and he's barking and yapping as if he's having the time of his life. Just like every time he's having a good time – whether it's out at the dog park, meeting new dogs on a walk, or just hanging out with Henry and being there for him whenever he needs him. 

Henry's thoughts travel back to a moment from years ago in a park far, far way. A cold winter morning, fog hanging in the air, pebbles crunching under his shoes – so different from the current warm, airy summer day. A warm, familiar voice that he still misses, but whose memory doesn't hurt as much as it did years ago.

They make great friends. Especially when you're lonely.

Turns out his dad was right. David is, without a doubt, just about the greatest friend Henry has ever had.  From an outsider's perspective, he may be just a dog – but Henry knows that it's to a considerable part thanks to his (most of the time) unwavering support that he was able to turn into the person he is today: an Oxford grad, a Star Wars Nerd, a part-time prince, a full-time Austen fan, a still relatively new New Yorker. A brother, a son, a boyfriend.

The two reasons for that unreal twist in his life were already waiting in his dressing room when he got back. Magnus barely had the chance to drop his towel into the hamper in the corner when he was already enveloped in a warm, familiar hug and a kiss was dropped on his cheek, despite his sweaty, slightly disheveled state.

“Magnus Bane, rock star. Look at you,” Catarina said when she let go of him, still holding him at arm’s length and beaming. “Your mother would be so proud.”

Magnus smiled at her and tried to swallow past the lump in his throat. Instead, he looked at the second person that had been waiting in the dressing room, who was just getting up from the chair he’d made himself comfortable in. “And what’s your verdict, Ragnor?”

“The show was sold out, the crowd adored you as usual and I’m pretty sure the press will as well,” Ragnor replied, his British accent as heavy as ever. He shrugged and slipped his phone into his back pocket. “I suppose you did alright.”

Magnus grinned and then only too happily accepted a hug from Ragnor as well. As disinterested the reply may have sounded, it was hard to ignore the pride in Ragnor's eyes as he looked at Magnus, trying his best to remain as unfazed as possible.

Ragnor Fell and Catarina Loss were a married couple of almost ten years and had been ruling the New York music business for just as long. Their record company, Downworld Records, had the most popular artists of the city signed; every time Magnus attempted to count the Grammies, Oscars and Golden Globes those artists had won in total, he ended up with a headache.

Magnus would have never dreamed of getting to know them, let alone signing for their label. But ever since he had, things in his life had taken a U-Turn in the best possible way. With the help of those two heavyweights in the music business he had soon turned from flamboyant, outgoing barista-turned-singer to record-breaking superstar and taken the music world by storm. Magnus couldn't possibly more grateful for their help and support over the years.  

With a sigh, Magnus dropped on the couch that Ragnor had just stood up from, grabbing another bottle of water. “So, now that we have the business talk covered, let’s get to the essential stuff,” he said, then took another sip of water. “How’s Chairman?”

Apart from being the most amazing managers that Magnus could have ever dreamed of, Ragnor and Catarina also came with another pretty useful feature: Whenever Magnus went abroad, they took care of his one and only child, a tabby cat called Chairman Meow. When Magnus went on tour or had promo appointments left and right, he left Chairman with the two of them, knowing that he would get his darling kitty back happy and well (and likely a little more overweight than usual).

When he’d taken Chairman to his usual check-up after his world tour last year, the vet hat told him to feed Chairman less, which Magnus had just internally scoffed at. No pet of his would ever be overweight, Chairman was just a little…small for his weight, but fabulously so.

“Oh, he’s great,” Catarina retorted. “Last week when I wasn’t looking, he ate half of the tuna that I wanted to make for dinner.” “- and threw up all over our living room carpet half an hour later,” Ragnor threw in.

Magnus snorted. “Sounds like my son.”

Ragnor rolled his eyes, but smirked. “Damn right he is. That cat is just as extra as you are.”

Magnus just shrugged, getting up again and heading towards the showers. “What can I say, I raised him well.”

+++

Two days later, after sleeping for 12 hours straight and spending an hour in the bathroom to make sure that he didn’t totally like a zombie, Magnus set foot in his favorite place in the world besides the balcony in Catarina’s apartment: Pandemonium, the café he’d worked at before his music career had taken off. The tiny café was wedged in between a Chinese restaurant and a thrift store and there were maybe twenty tables but still, Magnus loved going there. He’d spent many hours there – working, writing songs, trying to make decisions, or simply taking a break from real life. Besides, the place sold the best coffee in Brooklyn, if not even entire New York. And since it was so tiny and kind of an insider tip, he didn’t risk running into fans, reporters or other people who could recognize him there.

Magnus hadn’t been to Pandemonium for a few months now as he had been on tour, but as soon as he stepped through the narrow door and into the cozy atmosphere, he felt himself relax. The off-white brick walls, the many different chairs and couches, none like the other, the scent of freshly roasted coffee beans and the music playing in the background never failed to make him feel like home.

What did, however, very much disturb that feeling of coming home was his first look around the room. More importantly, the realization that the entire place was packed with people. There were young parents trying their best to keep their kids from spilling their coffee, business people typing away on their laptops, their drinks all but forgotten – and then what seemed like a hoard of college kids, taking up the rest of the room.  

Magnus sighed. As much as he loved this place for its cozy atmosphere, the limited number of tables and seats did pose as a problem whenever he came here on a particularly busy day.

Nevertheless, he headed for the counter and ordered his coffee to go, already halfway expecting he would have to drink it on the go somewhere. Or alternatively in his own living room under the skeptical gaze that the Chairman seemed to reserve for whenever Magnus went out and didn’t come back with food or at least a treat for his cat.

Thankfully, at least the line at the counter wasn’t all that long so it didn’t take much time for the baristas to make his drink. Paper cup in hand, Magnus turned away from the cash desk, stuffed his wallet back into the inside pocket of his jacket and then scanned the room one more time, hoping against hope that the few minutes he had spent waiting for his coffee would have been enough for an empty table to appear somewhere – or at least one of the several college kids to realize that the Wi-Fi in this place was crappy for a reason and leave. And indeed, just as he scanned the room one last time, a couple who had been sitting at a tiny table in the far corner across the room rose from their seats, took their empty cups and turned to leave.

Bingo.

With quick, resolute steps Magnus navigated his way through the maze of furniture, laptop chargers, messenger bags and brief cases on the floor towards the now empty table and managed to snatch a seat, effectively cutting off two women’s way who had been walking towards the same table. With an (entirely fake) apologetic smile he sat down on one of the chairs and placed his cup on the table, then grabbed the magazine he had been carrying with him and tried to blend out the noise around him.

It worked surprisingly well for a while, despite the buzzing noise around him. He was halfway through a quite interesting piece about an up and coming local fashion designer, when a voice dragged his attention away and back to the real world.

“Excuse me?”

Suppressing a defeated sigh, Magnus put his magazine aside and looked up, already expecting to be met with the expectant and excited face of one of someone who had recognized him and was about to ask for a photo or an autograph. Instead, he looked into hazel eyes, hidden behind thinly framed glasses. They belonged to a guy that seemed to be in his twenties, maybe a few years younger than Magnus. He was wearing dark blue jeans and a white t-shirt underneath a well-worn leather jacket and had a dark brown messenger back slung across his shoulder.

“Can I sit here?” the stranger said, looking around as if he was checking if an empty seat had appeared somewhere, but then shrugged.

"Uh…sure,” Magnus replied, a little taken aback. He uncrossed his legs so the stranger would have some space and took his magazine off the table, making room for his new seat neighbor’s coffee.

The stranger took a seat and placed his mug on the tiny table between them. “I’m sorry, I wouldn’t normally do this. But this was literally the only free seat so…"

He shrugged, as if it the entire issue explained itself, and put his messenger bag down on the floor.

“It’s no problem. Actually, I haven't been here in a while. When did this place become so crowded? This used to be an insider tip," Magnus pondered and let his gaze roam through the room once more. Now that the guy sitting across from him had taken up the last empty seat, there was literally no space left.

Alec followed his gaze, then shrugged. “Honestly, I have no idea. I come here every few weeks when I'm in the neighborhood, and I didn't notice anything changing. I guess at some point some of those hipster college kids must have discovered the place and made it their most recent Instagram-worthy coffee place or something."

Magnus huffed out a laugh. From the looks of it, those hipster college kids must have told a bunch of their friends too. “Must have been something like that. Last time I was here, there was maybe one seat taken, not just one empty."

“I know, right?", Alec huffed. "I mean, I’m sure they’re all great kids, but the point of me coming to this particular place was so I can enjoy my lunch break in peace. Not in the company of seventeen thousand undergrads,” the stranger grumbled, packing his laptop back into his bag and pulling out a notebook instead.

This time, Magnus genuinely laughed. “I’ll drink to that.”  He picked up his cup and jokingly raised it in his neighbor's direction. He took a sip and then placed the cup on the table again. “I’m Magnus, by the way,” he added, holding out his hand a little awkwardly as the stranger was currently focused on a folder he had taken out of his bag.  

Clearly startled, the guy looked up from his notes. “Huh? Oh…yeah, hi. I’m Alec,” he said, quickly taking Magnus’ hand and shaking it, almost knocking over his coffee in the process.

Magnus smirked. “Nice to meet you, Alec.”

He was just about to ask Alec what job he was working that his lunch break had led him to a tiny coffee place in Brooklyn, when a woman who had been sitting a few tables over got up and left. Alec picked up on that, watched her leave and then turned back towards Magnus, frowning.

"I should probably…you know," Alec said, gesturing towards the now unoccupied table across the room.

“Oh, don’t bother. I could use some company.”

A surprised smirk ran over Alec's features. "Okay."

Over the course of the next half hour or so, Magnus learned that breaking with his habits from time to time wasn't that bad of an idea. Alec turned out to be quite decent company. He was more on the introverted side, a lot more reserved than Magnus, that much Magnus could tell. But when he did say something, it was either funny, smart beyond his ears or sarcastic to a T. From crowded coffee shops and the general unpleasantness of undergrad students their conversation soon moved on to more personal topics. Magnus learned that Alec worked in his parents’ publishing company and was being groomed to take over as CEO one day, which he described as rewarding but also quite challenging from time to time. Magnus, in return, told him some of the stories he always told people when they asked him to tell them a little about himself – how he’d always been fascinated by music, how Queen had been his favorite band when he was a kid and Freddie Mercury still was one of his biggest idols, whether it came to music or life in general.  

Lucky for Magnus, their conversation always shifted to a different topic before they could get to what he did for a living. That was, until Alec straightforward asked.

“You said you like music a lot. Do you work in music as well?”

Internally, Magnus let out a bunch of curses, most of which Catarina would have murdered him for in cold blood if he ever used them in public. Externally, he resolved to something a little less scandal-inducing. Smirking to cover up the shock on his face, he took a sip from his coffee which was barely more than lukewarm at that point but perfectly served as a measure to buy him some time. Time that he used to think and come up with a perfectly fine explanation.

“I do, actually,” he said, “I work for a record label here in New York. It's called Downworld Records."

Technically, that wasn’t even a lie – he did have a contract with Cat and Ragnor's label after all. Besides, not telling strangers everything about himself right away was not lying, right? It was just being responsible, thank you very much. However, considering Alec’s reaction, Magnus might as well have told him the whole truth straight away.

Alec nodded, but other than that seemed pretty unfazed by Magnus’ reply. “Never heard of it. But I don’t really listen to a lot of music and at work we focus on books, so I guess that’s no surprise.”

Magnus blinked. “You don’t?”

Alec shook his head and grabbed his own mug. “Not really. I mean, I do like instrumental pieces or some classic rock if the mood strikes. But other than that, I guess I prefer books to records.”

Magnus smirked and relaxed back into his seat. “Instrumental stuff and classic rock, huh? Well aren’t you something else, Alec.”

Their conversation then shifted to less potentially cover-blowing topics for Magnus. They kept on talking for another while, until Magnus excused himself to the bathroom. When he returned, ready to hear more about that hilarious story of Alec's siblings, he startled, then did a double take just to be sure he hadn't walked to the wrong table. But he hadn't – Alec was no longer there.  Alec's jacket and bag were gone and their table abandoned, save for a slip of paper tucked under the half-finished cappuccino Magnus had gotten only a few minutes ago. When Magnus picked up the little note, he found just a few words scribbled onto it in a barely readable handwriting.

Emergency call, had to run. Was good chatting with you, I really enjoyed having some company. A.

Magnus turned the sheet around, feeling a little disappointed when he found it empty. He sighed. “Me too, Alec. What a shame that you didn’t leave me your number.”

Instead of scolding his cat, Magnus dared to throw another glance out the bedroom window. The clouds were a depressing gray and didn't seem like clearing up anytime soon.

Magnus ran his fingers through Chairman's fur. "You don't feel like getting out of the house, do you?"

The cat's purrs only grew louder.

Magnus sighed again and pulled the Chairman closer to his chest. "Me neither, dear."

They stayed like that for a little while, Magnus burrowed in his pillows and duvet, the Chairman snuggled up against his chest. Awful weather aside, Magnus felt at peace. It had been a few weeks since the end of his tour and aside from writing songs and meeting with his team here and there, life had been surprisingly quiet. Magnus had adored being on tour – playing at a different city every night, soaking up the excitement from the audience, listening to them his songs – but he never felt as much at peace as in his own Brooklyn apartment on a rainy day. He didn't like rain, actually he resented it, but there was just something about enjoying a day in while the rest of New York had to face the floods that put Magnus at ease.

He was just about to doze off again when the comfortable silence in his bedroom was interrupted by his phone beeping. Grumbling something unrecognizable, he reached over and grabbed it, hissing when the bright screen hurt his eyes. It was just far too early for people to expect him to be a functioning member of society yet.

However, when he checked the name and message that had come in, his mood brightened and he quickly opened the message.

Got almost run over by a bike this morning and by the time I was at work my clothes were drenched. I hate rainy days.

Magnus chuckled, starting to type out a reply. He was pretty sure it would earn him a very snarky reply, but it was worth the trouble.

About ten days had passed since Magnus had run into Alec at the coffee shop again and they had exchanged numbers. For his initial text to Alec, Magnus had gone all out – and regretted it the second he had hit sent. But thankfully Alec's humor wasn't limited to conversations happening in person and he had replied with just the same amount of wit, and the same sarcasm that had intrigued Magnus about him in the first place. They had been texting back and forth since then, and talking to Alec had become an unexpected, but not at all unpleasant, new part of Magnus' daily life.

They didn't talk every day, but sent each other messages here and there. In doing so, Magnus had learned a lot about Alec. Not just that his sister's wedding drove him crazy or that he was dangerously close to killing Aldertree from finance on sight the next time he saw him. But also what kind of music he was currently listening to or that he'd had an aversion to peanut butter for as long as he could remember. Magnus now knew that Alec didn't quite get the hype around Marvel movies or superheroes in general. He'd practiced archery as a kid, had even won a few competitions. But thanks to his job and just life in general getting the best of him, he had not been to an archery range in quite some time.

And most importantly,  he absolutely, entirely, with every fibre of his being despised rainy days.

It's like the universe is planning for me to have a shitty day and wants me to KNOW it does.

Magnus could almost hear Alec grumble the words while he was probably sitting in his office, clad in a semi-dry suit and loaded with misery.

Don't be dramatic. It's not that bad.

No. It's worse.

Magnus chuckled, then dropped his phone onto the mattress to look at his cat, who had left his position curled up next to Magnus to pad over to the other side of the bed where he could look out of the window. Chairman didn't look like he approved of the rain either – he almost looked like he was frowning.

Still grinning, Magnus grabbed his phone, snapped a picture and sent it to Alec.

I think you have an ally in your aversion against rainy days, Alexander.

Alec's reply took mere seconds.

FINALLY someone who understands me. Also, nobody calls me Alexander.                                                                                                                                    

You better get used to it, then.

With a soft laugh, he put his phone onto his nightstand, then stretched one more time before pushing the covers off his body and getting out of bed.

+++

"All I'm saying is that this could be a really nice opportunity for you to get back into the game after your break."

"And all I'm saying is that I'll think about it. That's all I can promise at the moment."

Sighing, Magnus grabbed his coffee and took a sip. He peered over the rim of his mug at Ragnor, who was sitting on a chair next to him and going through a folder that seemed to be about to burst.

"You know you could just use a computer, right? It would make the whole searching for that thing you scribbled onto a post it note you borrowed from an assistant and left somewhere in a conference room three floors upstairs a week ago thing a little easier," Magnus quipped, his lips already pulling into a smile. Ragnor was very much responsible for Magnus' success, but he was also a dear friend and just so easy to tease.

But before Ragnor could come up with an undoubtedly sarcastic reply, the glass door to his office opened and Catarina walked in, carrying a large cardboard box.

Taking in Magnus' smirk and her husband's exasperated features, she frowned. "What did I miss?"

"We're sending Magnus back to that lousy coffee shop he used to work at if he keeps getting on my nerves any longer," Ragnor grumbled, barely looking up from his notes.

Anybody else would have been intimidated by his behavior, but Magnus wasn't fooled. He had long accepted that Ragnor was just a natural grump and comments like that weren't to be taken seriously. Except if he was really pissed, but since Magnus' career had taken off, the number of times that Ragnor was genuinely angry at Magnus had declined significantly. Mostly because Magnus had actually started to listen to him. From time to time. When the mood struck.

Luckily Magnus knew that Ragnor would never take his antics personally. He had been an important mentor for Magnus since day one (and would not miss a single chance to tease him about that), but they both knew that underneath all their bickering lay a deep mutual respect and understanding for each other. It was part of what had made their both their working relationship and their friendship so strong since the beginning. The same applied to Catarina, even though Magnus and Ragnor's tendency to roast each other had tested her nerves in the past more often than not.

Almost as if she had heard Magnus' thoughts, Catarina took another stern look at them and let out a sigh. She took a seat next to Magnus on the couch and reached for his hand, her thumb mindlessly grazing over his skin as she took in Ragnor's discontent and Magnus' cheeky smirk.

"Magnus", she said, her voice infinitely kind and just a tiny bit scolding, "what did you do now?"

Magnus huffed out a laugh. "I didn't do anything. I just told your dear husband that I'm not really in the mood for a TV show appearance right now."

"More like that you're not in the mood for any TV shows anytime soon."

"It's not like I'm supposed to do any TV shows anytime soon," Magnus shot back. "A three months break from the public eye. That's what we agreed on."

Ragnor just opened his mouth to reply when Catarina cut in. "It is. And you're getting that time off, don't worry. But three months away from the public eye doesn't mean three months off work." She nodded towards the cardboard box she had brought with her. "Your new autograph photos came in and there's a lot of new fan mail too. Time to get to work, love."

Magnus flashed a smile at Ragnor. "I'm so sorry, dear friend, I believe we'll have to postpone this conversation. Not that I mind."

He then turned back towards Catarina. "Do you need me to start signing now?"

She shook her head. "Just make sure they are ready by the end of the week."

Magnus nodded. "Consider it done."

Signing some of the new autograph cards took a few hours that Magnus spent tucked away in a quiet meeting room in the Downworld Records headquarters. He managed to get a few hundred done and would have been faster if his friends weren't so terribly chatty. Catarina stopped by with coffee sometime in the afternoon, Elias from the reception desk paid him a visit and even Ragnor came to say hi at some point. Even Alec kept Magnus company, only through texts, but still.

Magnus kept signing until well into the afternoon, when his eyes were sore and his writs hurt. When he'd reached the point where he couldn't stand to look at his own face anymore, he decided to call it a day. He put the signed autograph cards back into the cardboard box, took the fan letters with him and made his way to the ground floor.

+++

Back at his apartment, Magnus fixed himself a glass of wine before sitting down on his living room carpet and taking out the letters Catarina had given to him. Reading fanmail was something he had always preferred to do in the privacy of his apartment. There was just something about these letters people sent him, something so personal that Magnus felt like taking his time was the only way to treat them right. He didn't read everything, of course. There was just too much coming in. But he tried. Lots of them were about how people felt inspired by Magnus, how he had inspired them to go after their dreams. Those always hit close to home, especially since it hadn't been so long ago that Magnus had been a struggling singer with a big dream himself. The least he could do, he felt, was give those people's words at least a fraction of the time and attention they had put into writing them.

A little while into reading the letters, Chairman joined Magnus in the living room and with his cat resting in his lap and his fans' moving stories to go through, the rest of the afternoon flew by. Magnus didn't even notice how much time had passed until, once again, the persistent ringtone of his phone drew him out of a particularly inspiring letter.

Without looking, he picked up, too busy with swallowing past the lump in his throat that the fans' story had left behind to check the caller ID. "Hello?", he said, voice slightly pressed. Emotional letters always got him.

"I swear to everything that is holy, I will kill Aldertree and not even try to make it look like an accident."

Magnus chuckled. "Hello to you too, Alexander."

"Oh, sorry. Yeah. Hi." Magnus heard some traffic noise in the background, and Alec cursing under his breath. "Anyway, I'm going to kill him."

Putting the letter aside, Magnus shooed the Chairman of his lap so he could sit up a little. "And why is that?"

"As if I would need a specific reason at this point," Alec scoffed before there was loud honking in the background and Magnus could hear him curse again, louder this time. "Great, now I stepped into a puddle too. I just got this suit dry cleaned, dammit! "

"Today is really not your day, huh?" Magnus said sympathetically, then took another sip of his wine.

Alec let out a sigh. "Yeah. You could say that."

"So. Aldertree?"

"I don't even know why I get angry about him at this point anymore. He's been sabotaging my work ever since I got promoted. I just try to ignore him most of the time, but he manages to get on my nerves every damn time. I just can't stand him, yet I can't do anything about it since I'm not running the company yet and he knows it. It's just so…frustrating."

A wave of sympathy rolled through Magnus. Before his career had taken off, and even now that he was where he always wanted to be, he'd had to deal with plenty of people who fit to that description. At least until he had learned which people were here to stay and which ones were only around as long as his fame was.

"Look, Alexander-"

Alec didn't let him finish. Or even properly start, for that matter. "You know what's fun?"

"I assume you're going to tell me in a second."

"Ha. Well, yeah.  Uh…what's fun is that I didn't even call you because of Aldertree, yet ended up ranting to you about him anyways."

Magnus huffed out a laugh. "I don't blame you. Awful people do tend to have that effect on us. Besides, I enjoy talking to you."

"Yeah, me too. The talking, I mean. I uh…I like that, too. That was kind of the point why I called in the first place."

"To talk to me?"

"No. Well, yeah, but also because I wanted to ask something."

Magnus chuckled. "I'm all ears."

"Look…I really enjoyed texting with you these past two weeks or so and I was kind of wondering if we uh…could hang out for real at some point?"

"Hang out? May I remind you, Alexander, that I don't just hang out with people." He swirled the wine in his glass. "But if this is your adorably dorky way of asking me out, please, go ahead."

Alec let out a slightly nervous laugh. "Yeah. That's kind of it. So, will you?"

"Will I what?"

"Stop being a tease, mostly. Also, go out on date with me?"

Magnus smiled and nodded, then remembered that Alec wouldn't exactly be able to hear that reaction. "I'd love to."

"Yeah?" Alec sounded genuinely surprised, like he hadn't expected Magnus' answer. "I mean, great! How does this Friday sound?"

Magnus smiled. "Friday sounds great. See you then?"

The relief in Alec's tone was impossible to miss. Magnus felt his heartbeat quicken at the realization. "Yeah. I'll see you then."

"Great! And Alexander?"

"Yeah?"

"Do me a favor and try not to kill Aldertree until then. I'm all for handcuffs, but I'd hate for our first date to be in prison."

Alec's gleeful laugh rung in Magnus' ears long after they had ended their call.

+++

"Magnus, hey!"

Looking up from his phone, Magnus turned around just to see Alec rushing towards him. "I'm sorry I'm late," Alec huffed, slightly out of breath and cheeks a little flushed. "I got held up at work by you know who and then came here as fast as I could."

Magnus smiled reassuringly, noting with a pleased feeling that Alec's gaze was raking up and down his attire. So the necklaces and open buttons had been a good idea after all.

"No problem, I just got here myself," he said, turning around towards the building that had definitely seen better days, but otherwise didn't give anything away about what awaited them behind the door. "So, Alexander. What exactly are we doing here?"

Alec grinned. "Let me guess – you googled the place, came up with nothing and it's been bugging you all week. Am I right?"

Magnus pursed his lips and raised a hand to scratch at the back of his neck. "I may or may not have been a little curious. Now, are you just going to keep making fun of me or are you actually going to tell me what we're doing tonight?"

Alec chuckled. "Impatient as always, I see." The chuckle turned into a full-blown laugh when Magnus just raised his eyebrows at him.

"Fine, let's stop keeping you in the dark. I actually didn't know this place existed until my sister told me about it about a week ago, and it's a bit of a long story, so why don't you just see for yourself?"

To Magnus' (not at all unpleasant) surprise, Alec underlined those words by gently putting a hand on Magnus' back and nudging him towards the entrance. And if Alec's hand rested there for just a little longer than strictly necessary, Magnus wasn't one to complain.

Magnus had gotten to know Alec a little better through their continuous texting over the past couple of days, and it didn't take even half an hour into their date for him to learn another three new things about him: He had a mediocre taste in style, a great taste in music and an excellent taste when it came to picking locations for a first date.

The initially dull looking building had turned out to be a cozy little art gallery that focused on all kinds of weird exhibits. Currently, they were showing an exhibit about the absolute worst the 80s and 90s had to offer in terms of music – also known as Magnus' secret guilty pleasure kind of era.

"I have to admit, Alexander, you do know how to pick an unexpected first date location," Magnus mused as he slowly walked through the exhibits' Pop and Rock of the 90s section after strolling through other sections for a while.

Alec, who had been doing a very poor job at hiding the fact that he'd been a little nervous about what Magnus might say about his first date idea, visibly relaxed. "You like it, then?"

Magnus beamed. "An exhibit about all the awful 90s music you will never hear me admit out loud I still love? I love this.

"Good, that makes one of us. Because I'm starting to wonder what on earth you find so fascinating about the 80s."

They had made it into a part of the exhibit where visitors got to witness some of the best of the 80s and 90s on their own. All they had to do was put on a pair of headphones and choose a song on one of the tablets that were mounted to the wall.

Magnus, who had already been busy picking up a pair of headphones, halted. He raised an eyebrow  at Alec. "I'll have you know that the 80s included musical legends such as Queen, Bon Jovi or Whitney Houston, Alexander."

"Yeah, I know that," Alec deadpanned, his tone being nowhere near serious. "I'm talking about the Cyndi Lauper and Wham! songs in here." He sounded like mentioning those artists alone personally offended him.

Magnus shrugged. "Collateral damage. There are so many better pieces to pick from. May I?", he asked, holding up the pair of headphones to Alec.

When Alec nodded, he slipped them over his ears and grabbed another pair for himself. Once they were both all set, Magnus turned towards the vast music selection and picked a song for the both of them.

As soon as the song started playing, Magnus couldn't help himself. He closed his eyes just as his body almost automatically started moving in tune with the music. Magnus had always had a hard time just sitting still when listening to a good song, especially when it was one of his personal favorites.

He kept going until a gentle tap on his shoulder dragged him out of the last bit of the song, just as the singer's voice started to fade off. When he opened his eyes, he realized that Alec had been watching him, leaning against the wall, headphones long forgotten and a gentle smirk on his lips.

"Don't You Forget About Me? Really, Magnus?"

Magnus shrugged. "That is 80s music as well, Alec. Not so bad after all, is it?"

Alec chuckled. "You sure know how to sell it."

Alec reached out and pulled the headphones off Magnus' head, setting them back onto the hook where they'd taken them from. "So what other not-so guilty musical pleasures are you hiding?"

Magnus laughed. "My dear Alexander, that is a story for a second date."

It took them another while to finish their stroll through the gallery. Most of it was due to Magnus, who could talk about music for hours and sure made use of that trait during their date. But Alec didn't seem to mind, he patiently listened to Magnus' stories and threw in an anecdote of his own here and there, proving that it hadn't been just talk when he'd said he had a bit of an interest in music as well.

After they had made it to the end, Alec went to retrieve their coats and met Magnus in the entrance hall. "So? Did you like the exhibit?

Magnus beamed at him as he reached for his jacket, his fingers brushing against Alec's as he took it. "I told you already, I loved this. Your lack of appreciation for guilty pleasure music isn't going to change that."

Alec smiled back at him, and this time it reached his eyes, too. He looked…hopeful, Magnus thought. "Great. I was actually kind of nervous since you know, first date usually means drinks or a movie or whatever. But I figured since you mentioned you're into 80s and 90s music, this might be up your alley."

"Definitely. Thanks for bringing me here. However, now that you mention it," Magnus said, glancing at his watch, "drinks don't sound so bad right now."

Alec grinned. "I was hoping you would say that. Come on, I know a place."

Alec led them to a bar not far from the gallery. Thanks to it being a Friday night, The Hunter's Moon was packed, but they managed to secure themselves a small table tucked away in the corner. The place wasn't big, yet buzzing with energy and excitement, the latter being due to the stage about 30 feet away from Alec and Magnus' table. For now, it was empty, but a microphone and guitar seemed just to be waiting for someone to start playing.

When Magnus asked Alec about the empty stage, Alec just smirked and muttered something about patience. "But you'll like it, promise."

He ended up being right. Alec had just taken off towards the bar to get their first round of drinks when a young woman walked on stage, waved to the audience and started tuning the guitar. There was a moment of excited silence before she started playing a rendition of James Bay's "Hold Back The River", singing along in a soft voice that slowly grew more powerful as the song went on. Magnus was fascinated immediately, so much that he almost didn't notice Alec had gotten back from the bar, drinks in hand.

Alec chuckled as he pushed Magnus' drink into his direction, their fingers brushing together briefly. "I assume you like this place?"

The woman had reached the first chorus and while her voice had been soft and melodic, she switched gears to a much more powerful tone as the song went on.

"Are you kidding? I could listen to her all day", Magnus said and laughed. "I haven't been to an open mic night in forever, but I'm just realizing what I've been missing out on."

Alec nodded and smiled. "This is one of my favorite places. It's a bit of a commute from my apartment, but the music makes it all worth it. I admire these people, actually. It takes courage to just walk up onto that stage and sing your heart out, not knowing if people are going to like it or not."

"That it does", Magnus mused, before realizing the words had actually slipped out. "I mean, I can imagine that it does. These people must put their heart and soul into these performances," he added quickly, just as the woman on stage put all her energy into the final few lines of the song.

Surveying Alec's expression carefully, Magnus kept an eye out for any signs that he had managed to blow his own cover. When Alec didn't show any signs of suspicion, Magnus breathed out and turned back towards the stage and grabbed his drink. Relieved, he raised his glass towards Alec. "Anyway. To us. Thanks for bringing me here, Alec."

Alec's gaze was warm when he looked at Magnus. "It's my absolute pleasure."

Magnus' martini clinked against Alec's beer bottle, and the sound made Magnus oddly hopeful. Things had been going well so far. Alec had been attentive and funny all night and there hadn't been a single moment of awkward silence. Even better – Magnus was having a genuinely good time.  He didn't quite trust the warm, comfortable feeling in his stomach just yet, but it seemed like they were ringing in a rather special kind of night.

And judging from Alec's soft smile and the warm expression in his eyes whenever he caught Magnus looking at him, Magnus wasn't the only one feeling that way.

+++

"…and that's why I am pretty sure that next time I go to Peru, the people at airport security won't be as tolerant as they were last time."

Magnus finished his little story with a smirk and a flourish and his free hand. The other one had been tucked into Alec's for the past couple of minutes. Alec had grabbed it to pull Magnus aside and out of the way of an approaching group of pedestrians. He hadn't made any attempts at letting go since, and Magnus was going to be damned if he was going to make him do so.

Magnus almost found it odd how well Alec and him got along even though it was only their first date. But then again, he couldn't bring himself to care.  Their evening had gone way too well for that. Throughout the night, Magnus had realized that all the funny texts and spontaneous phone calls in the world didn't even come close to spending time with Alec in person. Magnus had had a good feeling with Alec since they had first run into each other at the coffee shop, but the longer the evening went on, the more Magnus realized that his gut feeling about Alec had been right.

Talking to Alec, laughing with him, was easy, effortless. Alec's gaze was warm, his laugh contagious. He was still a lot more on the quiet side than Magnus, but the longer their date had gone on the more Alec had opened up. He'd stood a little closer, let his gaze rest on Magnus a little longer, nudged him here and there to underline his point while telling a story, or gently brushed his fingers against Magnus' as he reached for his drink. They had been small gestures, easy to miss, but Magnus had noticed anyway.

His own skeptical mind had blamed it on the cozy bar and the music in the background at first, but even now as they were strolling through the streets, Magnus felt as comfortable with Alec as he had been the entire night. That feeling had only grown stronger when Magnus' weird story from Peru, sometimes a bit of a dealbreaker on any first date, had made Alec only laugh with no signs of him being weirded out.

"You got yourself banned from an entire country. Why am I not surprised."

"What can I say, Alexander – I am a man of many talents."

He took another few steps on the sidewalk, then almost tripped over his own feet while trying to dodge a lamppost. It was only thanks to Alec's quick thinking and even quicker reflexes that Magnus didn't end up falling flat on his butt in the middle of the street.

Alec chuckled. "I suppose almost breaking your nose because you walked into a lamppost is one of those?"

"Fine, it wasn't one of my best moments."

"It's okay. It was actually pretty adorable."

"Adorable, huh?"

"Yeah," Alec mumbled, his hand brushing against Magnus' once again.

This time, Magnus didn’t think twice. In one swift move, he closed his own hand around Alec's, holding it in a light grasp, just tight enough to feel connected but still light enough for Alec to pull away if he so desired.

There was a pause, a beat of silence. Magnus breathed in, was about to pull his hand back, when the grip of Alec's hand suddenly tightened and he interlaced their fingers.

Magnus breathed out, his shoulders relaxing. He looked over to Alec, and caught him looking right back.

As their eyes caught, Alec's gaze drifted to their interlaced fingers and Magnus saw a smirk pulling at his lips. Alec bit his lip, then looked back up at Magnus. "Okay?"

Magnus let out a soft laugh, just barely audible, barely more than a breath. He returned Alec's smirk, his gaze reassuring. "Absolutely."

They kept walking for another while, for longer than it would have been strictly necessary to get to the next subway stop. Some of the time they spent talking, but most of it in comfortable silence. Magnus didn't mind either – he was more than okay with their little detours, as they meant he didn't have to say goodbye to Alec just yet.

Eventually though, they made it to the subway stop and came to a halt, turning towards each other. Magnus felt an odd sense of déjà-vu, similar to the last time they had seen each other and had been forced to say goodbye too early.

Judging from Alec's smirk, he'd had the same thought. "I guess this is where we part ways, again?"

Magnus chuckled. "I guess so."

Alec reached out for his other hand, his fingers softly grazing over Magnus' skin. "I had a really good time tonight."

Magnus squeezed Alec's hand gently. "So did I. Care for a second date sometime soon?"

Alec's gaze was as warm as the smiles he'd sent Magnus throughout the evening. "I'd love that."

Magnus beamed at Alec. He had just a couple of minutes left until he needed to catch his train, but he just couldn't bring himself to head off just now. The night had been too special. Instead, he stepped closer to Alec, closing almost all of the distance between them.

"Alright, Alexander," he muttered, voice barely above a whisper. "I'll see you soon then."

He took another half step closer and felt Alec's breath brush against his face. Pausing one more second, he waited if Alec would pull away. But just like earlier, when he had reached out for his hand, Alec didn't. So Magnus took one more half step to close the distance between them and dropped a kiss on the corner of Alec's mouth – just shy of his lips.

Squeezing his hands one more time, Magnus slowly backed away. He was just about to turn towards the subway station and head home when Alec's voice made him turn around once again.

"Magnus?"

"Yeah?"

"You call that a goodbye kiss?"

Alec rolled his eyes in exasperation, but eventually obliged. "Both. Mixing them up a little will look great, I think." He looked at the flowers again and sighed. "Why do I have to do this again?"

"Because," Izzy said as she stalked back to her desk, stiletto heels clicking on dark tiles, "Clary is busy picking out Simon's tux with him. So you, brother dearest, get to be my maid of honor for the day."

Alec winced. "What about Jace?"

Isabelle just leveled him with an unimpressed glare over the rim of her reading glasses. "Are you serious?"

"Fine," Alec surrendered, a smirk pulling at his lips at the thought of their kind, but not exactly flower-savvy brother picking out Isabelle's wedding bouquet. "It may not be the very best idea."

"I think apocalyptic is the word you are looking for here."

Alec chuckled. "Alright, you win. Is there anything else you need me to do or can I go back to enjoying my day off before mom finds out I'm here and starts pestering me about the paperwork I'm not going to do, even if she reminds me a hundred more times about it."

A low ping from Isabelle's computer, announcing a new email, made them both flinch. Sighing, Izzy looked at her screen and then back at Alec, regret in her gaze. "Looks like she just found out. She wants us both in her office, pronto."

With a sigh that sounded like the weight of the world had just been put onto his shoulders, Alec turned towards the door and walked out, Izzy on his heels. If there was one thing that everyone in this company agreed on, it was that you better not let Maryse Lightwood wait.

***

The decision to start working in his mother's publishing company had been a no-brainer for Alec. Lightwood Publishing had always been a family business. Alec had grown up watching his parents run the firm like their own personal empire. He knew most of the people who worked there, was on first name basis with the essential personnel. He had been raised knowing he would run that company one day if he wanted.

Things had shifted after his parents' divorce, though. Lightwood Publishing had belonged to both Alec's parents equally, but it had always been Maryse who had run things. After the divorce she had taken over as sole owner. Robert had moved to Los Angeles, taking up a lucrative offer of an old college friend to join the board of a new company. Most of the board members had left with Robert, either joining Robert in his new company or taking up competitor's offers, leaving Maryse to put together an entirely new management team. That had opened the window for Alec to rise from his previous job as an editor with a bunch of administrative tasks to a more strategic position. He was now head of fictional publishing and took care of all projects that fell into that area. He also took care of a lot more managerial tasks than before, with the eventual goal to follow his mother's footsteps and take over the company one day.

Two years had passed since then, two years that Alec and Maryse had used to completely rebrand the company. They had butted heads more often than Alec could count, which had mostly been due to Maryse still clinging to her and Robert's old ways of running things, whereas Alec had been aiming for a slightly more modern approach. It had taken many more or less constructive discussions (and a bunch of very non-constructive arguments) to eventually figure out where they wanted to take the company in the future. In the beginning, every new author Alec wanted to sign or any new genre he wanted to implement in the company's lineup had been a struggle. It had taken them a while to figure things out, but now that they had, Lightwood Publishing was doing better than ever.

With Alec and Maryse finally working well together and Isabelle being a force to be reckoned with in terms of marketing and public relations, the company had turned from a successful and respected, yet antiquated publisher of classics and political biographies to a recognized player on a much broader market, its program now including a broader variety of genres and targeted at a more diverse audience. With the help of Isabelle and her talented team in PR and marketing they had been able to make the rebranding process go over relatively seamless, as far as the public was concerned. There had been some hiccups along the way, but judging from the most recent figures, people liked what they did.

The rebranding process had been lengthy and arduous, but at the end of the day, Alec was still very satisfied with what they had created. Plus, it had helped him to a job with tasks and responsibilities he enjoyed.

Well, most of them.

What he certainly didn't enjoy was that despite him having risen to management level, Maryse could still send him to any and all appointments she didn't have time to attend herself. That list included a few very interesting types of appointments, but mostly they were the kind of trips that required a commute halfway across the city (which was of course a total coincidence).

One of those meetings was the reason why about two weeks after running into Magnus at the coffee shop, Alec ended up walking through the streets of Brooklyn once again, fuming with anger about how useless the entire appointment had been. He'd thought most of their business partners had realized by now that Robert Lightwood wasn't coming back and Alec was now their first contact for anything fiction. But apparently news hadn't spread yet to that particular illustrator's headquarters. Despite him sending them the details a few days prior, they had not even looked at his plans. And after they had asked for the fourth time in an hour when they were going to be able to speak to management, Alec had politely, yet distinctly ended the meeting (and mentally crossed them off his list of potential artists for the upcoming young adult series he needed a cover illustrator for).                                                                                            

Alec had come across people like that a lot back when he had first been promoted. Most of the company's business partners had been fine with the change in leadership and they had continued a reliable business partnership with them. But every now and then there was that one company so used to making deals with either his father or his mother that they just wouldn't accept or respect the fact that the younger generation slowly taking over.

Meetings like that frustrated Alec more than any other part of his job, sometimes so much that they left him in a foul mood for the rest of the day.

However, over time Alec had found a way to cope with that anger and prevent it from ruining his day: Plugging in his headphones and going for a walk whenever he had the time. Given how stupid the people at the meeting had been, it seemed like just the right way to clear his head before returning his office.

He had been strolling through Brooklyn for about ten minutes and was contemplating whether to grab lunch now or rather hope for a good day at the cafeteria back at the office when his surroundings started to get familiar. Alec realized that he was just a few minutes away from Pandemonium, the coffee shop he'd met Magnus at. Checking his watch, he realized that he still had some time until his next appointment, then without much thought crossed the street and headed towards the coffee place.  

Alec's go-to remedy for anger over ignorant business partners may be some music and a walk, but a large latte to drown his sorrows in turned out to be just as fine. Especially since this time around, Pandemonium wasn't nearly as packed as the previous time and Alec could easily find a seat.

On his way to a table in the far corner of the room he walked past the table he'd sat at the last time he had been there. He didn’t feel a tiny bit of melancholy when he walked past the occupied table, not at all. And it absolutely didn't get worse when he, once he had sat down at his table, surveyed the room to see if maybe, against all odds –

Alec snorted at his own pathetic behavior. He had met Magnus once. They had just sat together because there had been no other space to sit left. They'd had a good chat, so what? People did that all the time.

Yeah but people don't think about that chat two weeks later, you idiot, he internally scolded himself. Sighing, he grabbed his messenger bag and pulled out one of the manuscripts one of his editors had forwarded to him for consideration. Might as well get some work done.

He had made it through about twenty pages of a really promising story about a young policewoman working her ranks through NYPD while at the same time uncovering a massive legal scandal when next to him, someone cleared his throat.

"Excuse me, can I sit here?"

Startled, Alec looked up – right into a pair of dark Ray Bans. It took Alec a few seconds - and the owner of those dark Ray Bans pushing them down and looking at him over the edge of the tinted glass - to put the pieces together. But when he did, he smiled in surprise.

"Magnus! Hi!"

Magnus smiled back. "Hey. I just saw you sitting over here all by yourself and thought I had to say hello." He then paused, a hint of doubt crossing his features. "Is this weird? I can totally sit somewhere else if it is. It's not like there's lots of people here this time around."

Alec's brain had mostly clocked out to focus on the hint of Alec's eyes visible behind his sunglasses so he wouldn't stare at Magnus' ridiculously tight jeans or the gorgeous leather jacket over a navy V-neck sweater. Thankfully, it kicked back into action at the slightly nervous tone in Magnus' voice and prevented him from any potential embarrassments.

"Don't be ridiculous," he said hurriedly. "I didn't mind your company last time and I don't mind today. Have a seat!"

"Thanks", Magnus said, sitting down across from Alec and crossing his legs. He placed his mug on the table and smirked as he saw Alec's mostly empty latte. "So the coffee they sell here managed to match your high standards after all."  

Alec chuckled. "I have been a couple times before last time, thank you very much. But yeah, the place grew on me a little.

"As it should. I don't call this place my favorite coffee shop for no reason," Magnus quipped. He took a sip of his coffee, then set his mug down and looked back at Alec. "So. How have you been?"

Alec sighed, thinking of the meeting that morning. The short walk from his meeting to the coffee place had helped, but there was still plenty of unresolved frustration growling in his stomach. "Besides my job kicking my ass recently and my sister's wedding plans stealing my last nerve whenever my job doesn't? Fantastic. You?"

Magnus smirked. "Well, my cat apparently thinks he's Banksy now and started systematically ruining my new living room curtains by running his claws through it until they tear. But other than that, I don't have anything as fancy to report as a sibling's wedding causing me headaches. But I have to admit, I would love to hear more about that story. That bad, huh?"

Alec let out a defeated sigh at the thought of The Bouquet Incident, as he had dubbed Isabelle's interruption for his last meeting with Magnus. He didn't even want to start thinking about all the other small and bigger mishaps that had followed.

"You have no idea. But if you really want to hear it, I hope you brought some time with you, this is going to be a long story."

Magnus grabbed his own coffee mug and leaned back into his chair comfortably. With an elegant wave of his hand, he motioned for Alec to begin. "I'm all ears."

"Well, it actually all began with the reason why I had to leave so suddenly the last time –!

"Oh, you mean when you just bailed on me and all you left was that charming little note?"

Alec huffed in amusement. "Yeah. Arguably not my best moment."

"Not just arguably."

"Hey! I'm trying to tell a story over here. Do you want to hear it or not?"

Magnus laughed softly, then reached out for his coffee and took another sip. "Sorry. I'll be nice now, I swear."

Talking to Magnus was just as easy as it had been the last time. They had a good laugh about The Bouquet Incident and all the other little hiccups and problems of organizing Isabelle's wedding. In return, Magnus told Alec a few stories about his best friend's moving troubles and how someone from work majorly pissed him off, which then led to Alec telling Magnus about his meeting earlier that day and everything that had gone wrong with that. Magnus sighed, laughed, rolled his eyes when Alec walked him through what had happened, from time to time interrupting with an anecdote or two of his own. Oddly, Alec felt himself relax more and more the longer he talked to Magnus. Which was even weirder considering Alec usually didn't open up to strangers that easily, let alone tell them about his personal life.

But he found that talking to Magnus was actually enjoyable. He was interesting and attentive, funny and sassy without ever being condescending or judgmental. He had fascinating stories to tell, yet was great listener as well.

And he seemed to know on instinct what to say to make Alec feel better.  Whether by telling him about his cat's most recent antics (Alec had a good laugh when he learned Magnus had named his cat Chairman Meow) or by recalling one of his mishaps while writing new music (Magnus had previously mentioned that he sometimes liked to write songs in his spare time) – the longer they talked, the more Alec's anger fade away.

Unfortunately, the remaining time on Alec's lunch break faded away just as quickly. When his phone pinged with a reminder that his next appointment was approaching, he felt like barely twenty minutes had passed when a glance to his watch told him they had actually been talking for almost an hour and a half. Alec's heart sank at the thought of having to leave Magnus once again. He put his phone down and looked up, only to realize that Magnus was already frowning at him, cautious.

"Bad news?"

Alec cleared his throat. Magnus' gaze lingering on him totally didn’t make him nervous. It didn't.

"Sort of. Lunch break is over; I need to go back to work."

Magnus pouted, which totally didn't pull Alec's entire attention to his lips for a second. Not at all.

He snapped out of it just soon enough for Magnus not to notice – at least he hoped so.

"Aww, shame," Magnus said, "but I would have had to go soon anyway. Are you taking the subway back to Manhattan?"

"Yeah, why?"

"I'm headed that way too. Want to walk together?"

Alec smiled and nodded. Apparently he wasn't the only one who didn't want their break to be over yet.

He totally wasn't relieved about that. He wasn’t.

Fine, maybe a little.

The walk to the subway station was short, but comfortable. They kept talking about they had planned for the rest of the day. Alec learned that Magnus was going to visit a friend in the afternoon and told him about the meeting with finance he had scheduled next. Magnus, who had put his sunglasses on again the second they had left the coffee shop, grinned at Alec's lack of motivation and Alec was sure that behind the dark glasses his eyes crinkled with glee.

They reached the subway stop way too fast for Alec's tastes. Alec sighed when he stopped a few steps away from the stairs and turned to Magnus, who was already looking up at him.  

"Well, I guess this is goodbye again, then?"

Magnus chuckled. "I suppose it is." He paused, looking at Alec with a slightly hesitant expression, almost as if he was contemplating something, weighing the pros and cons. "Except if you're interested in a rain check?"

Alec felt his lips pull into a smile. "I'd like that.

Magnus grinned back at him. "Me too."

Alec's gaze drifted down the street, back down the sidewalk they had taken to get from Pandemonium to their current location. "So I guess I'll just see you next time I run into you at Pandemonium?", he teased.

Magnus' laugh was as soft as his voice had been over the past few hours. "I guess so. But to be totally honest with you – as much as I enjoyed our chance encounters, but…", he said, pausing for a few seconds, before glancing back up at Alec. "How about we make things a little less complicated and you give me your number?"

***

Alec didn't mind working for his mother. He didn't.

Or at least that was what he tried to remind himself of as he was stuck in his second boring meeting of the day, trying his best to not fall asleep while Aldertree from finance talked about the company's most recent revenue figures. Well, talking wasn't exactly the correct term as far as Alec was concerned. Trying to convince Maryse that Alec's children's books program line was doomed to fail sounded more like it.

They had been going back and forth for almost an hour now. As a consequence of Lightwood Publishing's rebranding process, Alec had implemented a line of books for children under the age of ten and signed a bunch of promising authors. Just like everything else that meant a change from the company's previous ways of work, it had taken Alec some convincing until Maryse had agreed.

However, things had been changing recently. While at first she had merely tolerated the program, she seemed to have warmed up to it. A few weeks prior, she had even expanded Alec's budget for the project. He'd already had thought of a few interesting ideas on how to go forward with it, but apparently - if things were up to finance - those were never going to happen.

He was dragged out of his thoughts when Aldertree directly addressed him for once, instead of just talking to Maryse all the time.

"Look, Alec, I'm not trying to crush your plans here. I'm just trying to make clear that the children's book program hasn't been performing as well as we had thought it would. From a financial perspective, it would make sense to invest that extra budget into something else with a higher return, like the classics."

Alec snorted. It took everything in him to not roll his eyes too, instead he leveled Aldertree with an unimpressed glare. "The classics? The very thing that has been keeping the company from becoming more popular with younger people, or you know, just people in general, for the past few years? Sure, makes total sense," he deadpanned.

Maryse sent him a sharp glare from her seat across from him. "Alec."

"I'm sure these ideas are well and good from a financial point of view" Alec continued. "However, we have to keep the creative aspect in mind as well. And judging from that, I see no reason why we should shy away from expanding our children's section. It's brought us a considerable amount of new readers, also it has made us look better in the public eye." He paused, looking at Aldertree and then his mother. "It's only been about a year. Let's give it some more time."

Aldertree opened his mouth to reply, but was cut off by Maryse herself. "I think we are done here for today," she said, closing the folder with the figures they had been going over for the past few hours. "Thank you, Victor, for your suggestions. I will review them with Alec and get back to you early next week.

Once again, it took Alec everything in him to hide his reaction. Only that this time, it was a smug smile. A glare from his mother made it disappear rather quickly, though.

"What was that, Alec?"

Alec sighed and turned towards his mother. "Aldertree has tried to sabotage my work ever since I got promoted. I'm done putting up with everything, just because he's the head of finance. That was that."

Maryse's features softened. She got up from her seat and circled the table, sitting down in the chair next to his. She reached out and took his hand, squeezing it lightly.

"I know you're not exactly his biggest fan" – this time, Alec did roll his eyes – "The thing is, he's doing a great job as head of finance. You're doing a great job as this company's future CEO. You don't have to like him to work with him. I'm not too fond of him either. But can you, please, make it seem a little less like you want to kill him on sight every time you see him?

"I'm not –" Alec tried to protest, but was silenced by a knowing look and a raised eyebrow from Maryse. "Fine. I guess I can try."

"Thank you. I appreciate it." Maryse got up and ruffled through his hair, which had long gone messy from Alec running his hands through it in annoyance throughout the afternoon. "Speaking of trying, how did your meeting this morning go?"

**

Filling his mother in on everything that had happened earlier that day took Alec about another half hour. After that, he felt drained, even though it was only 4pm and he still had work to do. Since heading home for the day wasn't an option, he did what he always did when he felt like going home but couldn't actually do so yet – he made his way to his sister's office.

Isabelle was on the phone when he entered her office. He leaned in the doorway for a second, hesitating, just in case she was talking about anything important. Isabelle waved him in as soon as she noticed him standing there, gesturing for him to have a seat at the couch she kept in her office for precisely moments like that

With a sigh, Alec flopped down on one the couch, his back flat on the cushions and his legs dangling over the edge. He closed his eyes and tried to ignore the sound of Izzy's phone call while also trying not to focus too much on the headache that was building up just behind his temple.

Eventually, Izzy hung up and came over. She took in her brother's sprawled out form and chuckled. "That bad, huh?"

"You have no idea," Alec retorted and groaned when he turned his head to look at her and moving his head made the pain worse. "I had a meeting with Aldertree."

Isabelle grimaced. "My condolences. That guy is a nightmare," she said, sitting down in the chair across from Alec. It had originally been just the couch in her office, but she had added the chair after Alec had made coming over to vent whenever work pissed him off a recent event.  

Alec sighed. "Tell me about it. I wonder if he's made it his own personal goal of ruining every idea I have, or if he is that much of a jerk with everyone.

Isabelle had started skimming through one of the gossip magazines she kept in her office to indulge in sometimes, and looked up at Alec, unfazed. "Oh, he is like that with everyone. Lydia had a meeting with him last week, when she came back I thought she was about to take his head off. Something about cutting costs of our book presentations for the next quarter."

Alec pulled out his phone and started scrolling through his messages, just in case Magnus actually started to use the number Alec had left him. He smirked at Izzy's mention of Lydia's murder plans. "I relate to that sentiment on so many levels."

Chuckling, Isabelle softly slapped him with her magazine. Alec yelped. "Hey! I came here to rant about Aldertree and my general state of misery, not get physically assaulted by my own sister."

"It's not assault if it makes you stop saying stupid stuff. Besides, you're not ranting, you're staring into your phone. What's so important on there? Hot date tonight?"

Alec waited just a second too long with his answer. Long enough for Isabelle to realize just how close to home she had hit with her joking assumption.                                                                            

"Oh my gosh, you totally have a hot date tonight!" She put the magazine cover away and leaned forward, curiosity radiating off her. "Tell me everything!"

Alec felt like smacking himself into the face as he dropped his phone on the coffee table.  Feeding his sister that type of information never ended well. Once something had caught her attention, she was like a bloodhound in fancy clothes and high heels. Elegant, yet deadly precise. It was what made her great at her job, but also terrible whenever it came to matters Alec would rather keep private.

He groaned at his own stupidity, then rolled his eyes in a desperate attempt of making Isabelle believe she had assumed the wrong thing. "There's nothing to tell."

"You really need to work on your lying skills, Alec. I don't believe you for a second," Isabelle said with a laugh that only grew louder when Alec felt his cheeks warm up in embarrassment. "So, who is he?"

"I told you Isabelle, there is no one. And even if there was, I wouldn't tell you. You're too nosy for your own good sometimes."

Isabelle tossed her hair over her shoulder and shrugged. "It's not my fault I'm fabulous. But you're still a terrible liar."

"I'm not –" Alec started, about to start ranting about how he still deserved to have a private life, even if Isabelle and him were very close. But he didn't get to actually do so, as his phone had apparently picked just that moment for the ultimate betrayal. Out of nowhere, it started vibrating with a new message, the glass coffee table enhancing the sound.  It was only thanks to Alec's long arms and quick reflexes that he could save it from his sister's nosiness.

"Hands off!"

Isabelle giggled. "Wow, that has to mean it's something serious."

"It's not serious, we've barely – ", Alec mumbled, shutting his screen off, before he'd even realized what he'd said. When he looked at Isabelle again, he let out a defeated sigh. Her shit-eating grin spoke volumes.

"You know what, I'm gonna go. I've had enough people annoying me for one day."

"Whatever you say, big brother," Isabelle called after him when he walked out the door. "But don't forget to tell me what your beau texted you."

"You know I won't," Alec retaliated, waving over his shoulder as he walked out of her office.

He didn't get to check the message until later that night, when he was back in the quiet safety of his own apartment with no annoying clients, colleagues or meddling younger sisters in sight.

When he finally did pull out his phone again and opened his unread messages, he was glad he hadn't. The message's content made him let out an embarrassingly loud laugh he really, really wouldn't have wanted anyone to hear.

Alec! I really enjoyed our talk this afternoon, but I'm not sure if I typed in your number right. Just text me back to let me know, will you? Also, if I did get the number wrong and this is the phone of a nice old lady or some other handsome single guy, I sincerely apologize. Well, in the old lady case. - M.

Magnus had gone through his fair share of rough patches in his many years on earth. From his troubled childhood in Indonesia to the years with Asmodeus to every single time he'd lost a dear friend or lover to the cruel grasp of time, illness or injury. Sometimes, he'd gotten through those phases through talking, sometimes by drinking himself into oblivion, sometimes by throwing himself into some reckless adventure. He'd tried to outrun heartbreak so often that he'd become an expert at it.  

But this, losing his magic, losing such an integral part of him, was different. It didn't hurt like a broken heart did. He just felt empty. Ever since that first night, when he had snapped his fingers out of habit to switch off the lights in their bedroom and felt that cold emptiness wrap around him like a heavy weight at the realization that he was unable to, he'd never been able to shake the odd feeling of something missing. And he couldn't get used to it either.

Magnus sighed and tried to ignore the bitterness rising in his chest, a familiar feeling these days. Of course he hadn't been able to get used to it. How could he, when everything in his life, in his very apartment constantly reminded him of what he had been able to do, who he had been?

Magnus let his eyes drift through the room, which despite its intricate décor felt different these days. The colors seemed less vibrant, the gold details dull – hell, the entire apartment wasn't the same without his magic thrumming in every fiber of it. His gaze eventually landed on Alec, who was still sound asleep next to him. With Magnus as his main source of warmth gone, the Shadowhunter had now shifted and was lying on his stomach, most of his face hidden in the pillow.   Magnus reached over and adjusted the blanket, fingers brushing over sleep-warm skin.

If only he could sleep as well as Alec these days.  

Pushing his covers and bitter thoughts aside, Magnus got up and padded towards the kitchen, getting on with his first mission of the day: making coffee.

+++

As Magnus learned only a short while later, it would have been a better idea to stay in bed altogether. Or just skip the day altogether. Because from the moment he'd woken up, that day seemed to have decided to show him how utterly terrible life could be.

It started out somewhat innocently, with the floor heating in their kitchen not working yet again. This wasn't exactly new, Magnus' apartment building was quite old and incidents like that happened from time to time. Up until a few weeks ago, he would have fixed it with a snap of his fingers, but given his current situation, he had to resort to more mundane means. Quite literally, since Catarina was out of town and Magnus didn't have many allies left in the warlock community after the fight with Lorenzo and his dismissal as High Warlock.

That news had spread fast. But the news of the great Magnus Bane giving up is magic for his Shadowhunter boyfriend's parabatai had spread like a raging wildfire. Magnus was always up for the latest rumors and gossip from the Downworld, but he definitely didn't need to hear them when they were about him. He did his best to not let them get to him, but crossing paths with former fellow warlocks on the street and suffering through forced small talk - or even worse, them trying to hide their pity - was wearing down on him.

He felt miserable. And he was tired of it.  

Which was probably the reason why he didn't lash out on the young, unexperienced warlock who knocked on his front door later in the day and asked for advice, but just tiredly asked him to contact the current High Warlock about it. And it was also the reason why he didn't say anything when the mundane heating engineer he'd called earlier that day stopped by in the late afternoon to fix their floor heating and left mud stains on Magnus' expensive light beige living room carpet, he just waved off his apology and saw him out.

He even managed to get through a video call with Catarina and Madzie, who were at a warlock conference in South Africa, and smile at Madzie when she showed him the latest magical tricks she had learned. He praised and cheered with her when she showed him that she had already mastered the first steps of a spell that should be rather complicated for someone so young.  Although watching her do the things he had taught her just a few weeks ago but now was no longer able to do hurt more than the rest of that day's struggles combined.

Magnus could have been above it. Could have filed that day as a particularly miserable one and gone on with life. He would have done it, if only life hadn't decided to stab him in the back one more time that evening.

He was just about to settle with a pot of green tea into the living room and try to relax a little to end the day on a somewhat high note when his foot got caught on the doorstep, he tripped, reached for the doorjamb to regain his balance – and dropped the teapot in the process. The second it crashed to the floor, it burst into dozens of shards, the tea splattering over both the kitchen tiles and the wooden living room floor.  

Great.

If Magnus had had access to his magic in that moment, he was pretty sure it would have been bright red with anger. He'd never felt more like lashing out with his magic, red sparks and minor damage to his apartment included. Instead, all he could do was stand there, breathing in and out and trying his best to push the anger away.

And of course that was the moment that Alec came home.

Magnus heard Alec throwing his keys into the bowl by the door and noticed his familiar steps across the carpet, but didn't react to him until Alec was standing right in front of him, taking in the mess that the teapot had left behind.

"Careful, you don't have shoes on. Let me help you with that."

Instead of replying, Magnus raised a hand, making Alec stop dead in his efforts. His eyes were closed, he was breathing heavily and he could feel the past few weeks' anger and disappointment seething in his chest, burning his insides on their inevitable way to the surface.

"Don't. Just…just leave it. I'll take care of this later" he heaved out, voice pressed. He turned around, blood rushing in his veins and thoughts rushing with them. He was about to dash off towards their bedroom so he wouldn't lash out on Alec, when a firm grip on his arm stopped him.

"Magnus, wait."  

"It's fine, Alexander."

Alec's voice was soft, yet decisive when he replied. "No. It's not and it hasn't been for weeks now." He stepped in front of Magnus so he could look him in the eye. His other hand rested on the side of Magnus' face, thumb softly brushing over his skin, providing the warmth and comfort Magnus was so desperately lacking these days.

"I know you're hurting, Magnus. Even though you pretend you're not," Alec said, his voice a lot gentler now. "I know it hasn't been an easy situation for you and I guess I might not be the right person to talk to since I have no idea what it feels like to lose your magic like that, but…I just want you to know that I'm here. If you need someone to listen."  

Despite his heavy heart and the melancholy and grief that wouldn't let him out of its iron grip, Magnus felt his shoulders relax and his emotions calm down a little. He stepped closer to Alec, wrapped his arms around his waist and buried his in Alec's sweater, breathing in the familiar scent of detergent and Alec's shower gel, enjoying the familiar feeling of Alec holding him and the way it never failed to calm him down. Magnus' tone was low when he replied, almost hesitant but no less honest. "Alexander, you are the only person I would ever want to talk to."

Beneath his ear, Alec's chest heaved with a sigh of relief. Alec's arms that had just gently been holding on to him, as if he wasn't sure whether or not his affection was welcome in that moment, wrapped him into a warm embrace.

"You miss your magic a lot more than you're willing to admit, hm?"

Magnus took in a shaky breath and hugged Alec tighter. "Yeah."

They stood there for a while, not talking at all, the only sound in the room being the soft tunes playing from the stereo in the corner and Magnus' ragged breathing.

When he eventually spoke again, his voice was barely above a murmur, its tone defeated. "It's just so hard, you know."

Alec's embrace only tightened, wrapping up in the gentle comfort that only Alec seemed to be able to give him. "I know."

With a deep breath, Magnus pulled away and hesitantly looked at Alec. Taking another breath, he braced himself for what was to come. "Then let's talk."

+++

Sharing how he felt about the loss of his magic wasn't easy. Actually, it was even more difficult than Magnus had anticipated it to be. The past few weeks he had pushed his anger and sadness aside, locked it away so he wouldn't constantly be reminded of what he'd lost. But sitting on his living room couch, one of his hands in Alec's while he remembered everything that he had so carefully pushed away for weeks hurt. Magnus knew that he could trust Alec with his life, and yet it still took everything out of him to let the Shadowhunter in on how he was feeling.

But Alec had never disappointed him in a precarious situation like this and neither did he this time. He didn't say much, just let Magnus ramble, but his posture, expression and the soft look in his eyes signaled Magnus in that very unique Alec way that his attention was completely on Magnus and Magnus only. It was one of the qualities Magnus loved most about Alec – whatever he did, he did with his whole heart. Even if it was dealing with his boyfriend's lousy heartache mood.

Later that evening, when they were already in bed and Magnus was cuddled up in Alec's arms and had long passed out, exhausted from letting himself be vulnerable and even more exhausted from pretending the opposite for so long, an idea came to Alec's mind. With a soft smirk, he reached over to switch off the lights, the idea already turning into a plan as Alec drifted off to sleep.

+++

Magnus slept well into the next morning. The previous day had taken its toll on him, especially the talk with Alec, and left him exhausted. He hadn't dreamt at all that night, which was unusual, but woke up the most well-rested he had in months, which was even more unusual.

However, the most unusual thing was that the bed beside him wasn't empty. When Magnus had gathered his senses enough to open his eyes, Alec was laying on his side, one arm serving as a pillow for his head, the other reached out to brush a stray strand of hair out of Magnus' face.

"Morning". Alec's voice was soft when he spoke and definitely too little grumbly for him to have just woken up. That in combination with the fact that Alec had slept in on a weekday made Magnus even more suspicious, but given that Alec looked so very adorable in this disheveled look, he didn't really care.

"Good morning, Alexander," Magnus replied, his own voice heavy with sleep. He let out a yawn and then looked at Alec again, who was still smiling softly at him. "Shouldn't you be at the Institute? I believe that your office start quite some time before –" he said and paused to crane his neck so he could look at the alarm clock on Alec's nightstand, "ten thirty in the morning."

Alec chuckled. "I took the day off. They can deal without me for 24 hours."

"You sure about that?"

"Well they'll have to. I already made breakfast."

Magnus chuckled. "So that's the reason for the slightly Edom-esque smell in here."

"That and the fact that I may have left the first pancake in the pan for a little too long," Alec admitted. He dropped a peck on Magnus' cheek and then rolled out of bed. "You stay put, I'm gonna go get the food."

"Don't you worry, Shadowhunter. I'm not going anywhere."

As heavy and emotional the previous evening had been for both of them, their shared breakfast in bed made more than up for it. As opposed to their talk the previous night the atmosphere was now lighter and more relaxed, without a hint at how difficult the day before had been for Magnus. He was so busy laughing, chatting (and kissing) Alec that he almost forgot his little crisis had happened at all. But that was the point – almost. As soon as Magnus spilled some of his coffee onto the sheets, automatically snapped his fingers to magic it away and nothing happened, the feeling from earlier was back again, pushing onto his shoulders like a heavy weight and making his entire chest tighten so much that he felt like he couldn't breathe.

This time, however, he wasn't all by himself.

As soon as Magnus tensed up, Alec was there, softly rubbing his back and murmuring soft encouragements until Magnus' shoulders relaxed and his breathing evened out a little.

"I'm sorry," Magnus muttered, fingers nervously playing with the now coffee-stained blanket thrown over their feet.

Alec shook his head. "Hey, don't be sorry for something that's not your fault. We talked about this yesterday. I'm here. Every step of the way, remember?"

Magnus sighed. "I know. Thank you."

Alec looked at him for a second with a stern gaze, as if he was making sure that Magnus really was better, then smiled softly at him and leaned in for a soft kiss. "Anytime. Now – we need to get up, I have plans for us today."

Magnus frowned, somewhat hesitant but also very much intrigued. "Plans, you say? Any chance you're going to let me in on what kind of plans those are?"

The Shadowhunter grinned at him, impossibly smug. "Nope. But I can tell you that they're plans that involve us getting out of bed and leaving the apartment, so let's get going!"

+++

Alec did not disappoint. Once they had finally made it out of the apartment (Magnus not having access to his magic did not mean that he wasn't going to dress to impress when he was leaving the apartment, thank you very much), he took Magnus to their favorite coffee shop where they grabbed some coffee to go (or "sugar in a paper cup" as Alec liked to call Magnus' – admittedly insanely sweet – drink of choice).  

When they were standing on the sidewalk in front of the shop, drinks in hand, Magnus took a sip of his coffee and looked at Alec. "So now what?"

"Now, I am taking you out on a date"

Magnus raised his eyebrows and then laughed softly. "A date? You do realize it's just past noon, right?"

Alec just smirked and shrugged. "Yep. A date. Just because it's early afternoon doesn't mean I can't take out my gorgeous boyfriend."

"Flattery is going to get you everywhere, my dear," Magnus said, stepping closer to Alec so he could kiss him gently.

Magnus and Alec spent the rest of the day positively all across town. Magnus had been living in New York for decades, but with his former tendency to portal wherever he wanted to go, he had never explored the city the "mundane" way (except for its many bars and nightclubs, those he all knew by heart). Alec, however, had been navigating the city like a mundane for most of his life and knew it like the back of his hand. After spending a few hours at an art gallery which featured some of the artists Magnus had known personally, Alec showed Magnus some of his favorite hidden spots throughout the city. Some of them he had found while chasing after a particularly annoying demon, others just completely by accident while he'd been on a walk to clear his head. All of them were positively gorgeous and the perfect hideaway from the busy, crowded everyday New York life and something so very Alec that Magnus felt his heart flutter with affection.

They even played tourist for a bit and went to see the Christmas tree at Rockefeller Center, which Magnus had to admit did look beautiful with its lights and decorations and the ice rink in front of it. Of course, they had to take a few hideously adorable pictures and send them to Izzy and Catarina, which earned them snarky remarks but also quite the amount of heart eyes emojis in return. When Magnus suggested trying a few rounds on the ice, Alec sent him a glare that he usually reserved for when people were seriously annoying him at the Institute, but eventually agreed – which led to some of the worst laughing fits Magnus had ever experienced.

He also learned that having all kinds of runes didn't exactly help much when somebody was just a hopeless disaster on the ice. Magnus was tempted to record Alec's first few laps on the ice, the careful steps he took reminding him a lot of a baby trying to walk (including the falling on their butt part – multiple times). But at some point, Alec's military upbringing and endless determination kicked in. He took a break to study Magnus for a little bit and after watching him speed and twirl across the ice for a while, he came back, trying again. With a little help from Magnus and his hand to hold on to, they managed to skate together, fingers intertwined and tiny snowflakes falling around them. Alec took his gaze off the slippery surface in front of him and gazed over to Magnus. His heartbeat quickened at the sight and he felt relief flood through his body – Magnus was beaming, his cheeks were flushed from the cold and his gaze, often cold, distant and dull over the past few weeks, was now warm and shining with glee.

Alec smiled back at him, happy to see the man he loved in better spirits again. When they slowed down, Alec pulled Magnus to a stop and slung his arms around Magnus' waist, pulling him close.

Magnus chuckled. "Already getting tired, Alexander?"

"No. Just enjoying the view."

When they kissed a moment later, their lips were cold, but the way both of their hearts were thrumming inside their chests was enough to keep the both of them warm.

+++

By the time they got back to the loft, they were both way too cold to function. They had walked the last bit of the way home and even though the streets had looked beautiful with the many Christmas decorations and fairly lights adorning many windows, they were glad that they were back.

Magnus had excused himself to the kitchen right after they'd come home and when he came back into the living room, a steaming mug of hot chocolate in each hand (one of them spiked with rum, obviously), he was welcomed by the most adorable sight. Alec had already made himself comfortable on the couch – quite literally. Leaning back into a mountain of pillows, he had one of their warmest, fluffiest blankets thrown over his legs, the sight of him the epitome of coziness. When Magnus approached him and carefully put the mugs down onto the coffee table, Alec lifted the blanket and let Magnus settle against his chest, then covered both of their feet with the blanket again.  

Hot chocolates completely forgotten, Magnus rested his head on Alec's chest, the soft rise and fall of his boyfriend's breathing soothing him. He started fiddling with the leather wristband he had brought Alec from a trip to Europe. The leather was already beginning to get worn and the colors were fading a little, but Alec had not taken it off since the day Magnus had given it to him and refused to let him replace it. Now, it served as a perfect distraction while Magnus was trying to find the right words for what he wanted to say.

In the end, he settled for just saying what he felt, because if their relationship had always been characterized by one thing, it was honesty. "I meant to thank you for today, Alexander."

Alec smiled and dropped a kiss onto Magnus' head. "No big deal. We have so little time to go out on a nice date, the least I could do was put in some effort when I got the chance."

Magnus smiled softly. "We both know this wasn't just about taking me out today."

Alec chuckled. "Not exactly."

Magnus shifted so he could look at Alec. "I know it wasn't. And that's why I appreciate it so much. I know I haven't exactly been the easiest company these past few weeks, but I do appreciate everything you have done for me recently. Even though I may not have shown it."

"Magnus, you have every right to be not quite yourself right now. I can't even imagine what this entire situation must feel like to you. I just wanted to – I don't know, show you how much life as a mundane has to offer, I guess. Show you that even though it's not what you're used to, it can have beautiful sides."

Even after months of dating, Alec's blunt honesty sometimes still managed to catch Magnus off guard. His voice barely carried when he murmured another soft thank you to Alec.

"Anytime. We're going to get through this together, alright? Whatever happens. You and me."

And as much as he was hurting, as bleak as the perspective of facing a life without his magic sounded - in that moment, resting comfortably in their living room, fairy lights and candles tinting the room into a soft yellow glow, Magnus knew that Alec was right.

Ever since they had made up after defeating Valentine, Alec had spent most of his nights at Magnus’ place. The warlock joked about Alec having practically moved in by now, and if Alec was being completely honest with himself, he was right. He rarely stayed at the Institute anymore, only when he was too tired to get to Magnus’ place and the warlock was already sleeping and thus unable to portal him over.

On even rarer occasions, mostly after late night cabinet meetings, they would refrain from going back home altogether and sleep in Alec’s room at the Institute instead.

It had been during one of those impromptu Institute sleepovers that Alec had found out how utterly sensitive Magnus was to temperatures. He had never noticed, since Magnus liked to keep his loft rather warm in order to walk around barefoot or with just a light shirt and sweatpants on (thank the Angel for floor heating). But the first time Magnus had stayed at the Institute, Alec had quickly learned that his boyfriend did not like cold temperatures. He downright despised them.

As soon as Magnus had gotten out of Alec’s bathroom, a cloud of steam trailing behind him, and set a foot onto the floor, he had breathed in sharply and then sent Alec his most judgmental look. “Seriously, Alexander, when will the Clave finally see the necessity of floor heating in a place like this.”

Alec had just chuckled before getting up from where he’d been sitting on the bed checking his notifications and dropped his phone on the nightstand. “Probably the day installing it in here will not cost a fortune anymore.”

“So…never.”

Alec had grinned when he passed Magnus on his way to the bathroom and stopped to drop a quick kiss on his boyfriend’s lips. “Exactly.”

However, several minutes later, that smug smile had left Alec’s face quite quickly. As soon as he had gotten into bed, Magnus had cuddled up to him – and shoved his ice-cold toes underneath Alec’s calves.

Alec had hissed at the feeling. “Angel, Magnus! Your toes are freezing!””

Magnus’ voice had been muffled from where he had tucked his head into his pillow. “So is your floor. And this entire room, for the record. So hush and let me warm up.”

Alec had snorted. “Fine by me, but will you let me get comfortable first?”

Magnus’ hair tickled Alec’s face as he’d shaken his head firmly. “No. You suggested we sleep here, so it’s your fault that I’m cold in the first place. Now live with the consequences, darling."

Alec had rolled his eyes, but turned his head to kiss Magnus’ forehead anyway. Who was he to deny his boyfriend something as simple as this – especially when he sounded so adorably cute from where he was hidden underneath a good 70% of Alec’s comforter.

+++

After that night, they had gone back to sleeping at Magnus’ place for most of the time again. That way, Magnus didn’t have to worry about getting cold anymore, and Alec didn’t have to suffer through the consequences of his boyfriend being cold. Moreover, they both enjoyed this arrangement way too much to change it – Magnus’ spacious, but comfy Brooklyn loft beat the Institute at any time.

On the few occasions they did sleep at the Institute, Magnus soon found a way for himself to avoid being cold, besides always having at least two pairs of fluffy socks stored away in Alec’s closet: borrowing Alec’s clothes. Or, in Magnus’ case, taking them from Alec’s closet and never returning them. It became a habit which soon expanded to beyond the Institute’s walls.

It started out innocently enough, when Alec came home one evening, only to find Magnus standing in front of the stove, stirring the pumpkin soup he’d promised Alec for dinner. Alec had had a rough day at the Institute and was so happy to finally be home that he didn’t even pay attention to what Magnus was wearing. He only got suspicious when he had already wrapped his arms around the warlock from behind and found that the sweatshirt he was wearing looked a) slightly too big on him and b) was so well-worn that Magnus would have gotten rid of it months ago if it had been his.

When he asked Magnus about it, the warlock just shrugged.  “I was cold and it was lying over the back of the couch. So I borrowed it. You don’t mind, do you?”

“No, not at all. It looks kind of cute on you, to be honest.”

Magnus chuckled and turned his head so he could softly peck Alec’s lips without having to let go of the pot and the spoon. “Thank you, darling. You know how much I love a good compliment. Especially if they come from you.”

It wasn’t until another few weeks later that Alec realized why exactly Magnus seemed to love wearing his clothes so much.

They had gotten through another cabinet meeting, but this time, it had gone anything but well. That was mostly due to the Seelie Queen being present and making everybody feel uneasy, but there had also been some quite touch subjects on Alec’s agenda – topics that none of the downworlders had taken all too well. They’d had to negotiate every single point and as soon Luke was satisfied with the outcome, Raphael had thrown in a concern, which had Magnus go through the roof and so on.

They had ended up yelling at each other, until Alec had ended the meeting, resulting to his guests storming out of the Institute, Magnus included. Alec stayed back there for another while, trying to sort the tiny amount of results the meeting had brought despite the fighting, and got some paperwork done.

When he finally got home (after a very firm hint from Izzy that she would kick him out if he didn’t leave on his own really soon), the loft was quiet. Most of the lights were switched off, save for their bedroom, where Magnus was lounging on his side of the bed, legs crossed and reading glasses on, flipping through an ancient looking book. When Alec entered the room, he looked up and smiled at him. His voice sounded soft and relaxed when he spoke. “Hey.”

“Hi”, Alec sighed as he toed off his shoes and left them at the doorstep. He walked over to the bed and laid down on his own side. “Quite a day, huh?”

Magnus huffed out a laugh. “Quite a day indeed. I don’t think I’ve ever seen Luke and Raphael be so angry at each other.”

Alec cringed at the memory of the vast amount of shouting and insults that had filled the Institute’s meeting room just a few hours earlier. Or the one of Magnus storming out of the Institute, absolutely furious. “Don’t remind me of that. Magnus, look, I –“

Magnus closed his book and put it on the nightstand, then turned on his side so he could face his boyfriend. “Alexander, I’m going to stop you right there. I know things didn’t go the way you wanted them to tonight and that I got a little…agitated, but I’m not mad at you. Today was just a rough day at work, nothing you have to worry about. Okay?”

Alec smiled, then leaned over to Magnus so he could give him a soft kiss. “Thanks for not being mad.”

Magnus didn’t reply, just shook his head and smiled at Alec. He leaned back against the headboard and pulled Alec into his chest, carding his fingers through his disheveled hair. Alec cuddled into him all too gladly, resting his head on his chest and draped an arm over his torso. He started playing with the half-opened zipper of the faded gray hoodie Magnus was wearing, until he suddenly stopped and frowned.

“Babe?”

“Yeah?”

“That’s my hoodie again, isn’t it?”

Alec craned his neck so he could look at Magnus, and was met with a downright bashful smile. “Uh…no?”, Magnus tried and brought up his free hand to fidget with his ear cuff. However, when Alec just sent him his most unimpressed glare, he sighed. “Okay, yeah, it is. I borrowed it again because…” He paused and bit his lip. “If I tell you, do you promise you won’t laugh?”

“You know I would never laugh at you.”

Now it was Magnus’ turn to tilt his head to the side and look at his boyfriend with one eyebrow raised, his eyes flickering with a silent, sarcastic Seriously?.    

“Okay, sometimes I do”, Alec admitted. “But not when it’s serious. Which this seems to be. So go ahead.”

There was a small pause before Magnus answered. When he did, his voice had an odd, guarded tone to it, which Alec hadn’t heard in a long while. Magnus had sounded like that back when they had started dating and he hadn’t been sure about what to tell Alec and what rather to keep to himself.

Magnus sighed. “I suppose I always steal your sweaters because they make me feel…safe. I don’t really know how to describe it.” He breathed out and paused again. “But when I put them on, it feels like you’re there with me, even when you’re not. And that makes me feel better, especially after situations like tonight.”

“I make you feel safe?”

Magnus closed his eyes and shook his head in disbelief. When he opened them again, his gaze met an impossibly soft look from Alec’s hazel eyes. “Alexander, I love you. Of course you make me feel safe.”

Alec looked at him for a long moment, his expression turning impossibly soft. “I love you too”, he murmured as he pushed up on his elbow so he could lean in and press a gentle kiss against Magnus’ lips. “By the way”, he added when he pulled away, “you can totally borrow as many sweaters as you like. Whether you need them to make you feel safe or not.”

“Well in that case, I think I’m going to take you up on that offer”, Magnus chuckled and then leaned in for another kiss that made his heartbeat fasten and both of their skins tingle.

As Alec soon found out, Magnus was a man of his word. Alec didn’t really mind it, though – he always knew where to look for his clothes if a piece of them went missing. And to be fair, he quite liked the sight of his boyfriend wearing his clothes.

December had been quite cold this year, and more often than not, Alec came home to Magnus dressed down to sweatpants, a loose t-shirt and one of Alec’s hoodies, his face free of makeup and all the product in his hair removed so the black strands would fall softly into his eyes. The shadowhunter loved Magnus’ sense of style and tasteful outfits, but he enjoyed even more coming home to this relaxed, toned-down version of his boyfriend. Especially since he was the only one who got to see him like this.

+++

As much as Alec enjoyed sleeping at Magnus’ place, he didn’t really like it that much when the warlock wasn’t there. Unfortunately, that was precisely what he was going to deal with for a little while. Magnus had been invited to a warlock conference in London and would be gone for a couple of days. Which meant that Alec was going to have the place to himself. And which also meant that Magnus needed an entire afternoon to pack.

Alec always thought that to an outsider, watching Magnus pack his stuff must be hilarious.  Magnus strode around the loft, transporting whichever objects he deemed necessary for his trip into the suitcase using his magic. While doing so, he made a point of dragging other warlocks he was going to see at that conference, and whom he couldn’t stand if his life depended on it. Alec was folding laundry in their bedroom and smirked as Magnus’ voice resounded through the apartment, going through tale after tale, sometimes louder, sometimes softer, depending on how far away he was.

After a while, and many different shirts and pants magically appearing in the opened suitcase on their bed, Magnus stopped dragging other warlocks and went on to complaining about warlock conferences in general and London in particular, how it was “way too cold there, right now. I mean, New York is no better, but still. Why couldn’t they do this in California? Could have been an excellent opportunity to check on my beach house, which reminds me – Alexander, how do you feel about spending a few days in California soon? If I don’t freeze to death in London, that is.”

Alec chuckled and shook his head as Magnus appeared in the doorway and went on to drop a bag of toiletries into the suitcase – without any magic this time. When Magnus had sauntered out of the room again, Alec blindly reached into the laundry basket and paused when he realized what he had just pulled out – it was the light gray, well-worn hoodie Magnus loved to steal.

He held the piece of clothing for a moment, looking at it, and after a split second decision, put it into Magnus’ bag. He managed to hide it underneath a few shiny silk shirts just in time before the warlock’s steps got closer to the bedroom again.

Busying himself with another sweatshirt that needed to be folded, he tried to make his voice sound as unsuspicious as possible when Magnus walked in with a pair of shoes in hand. “You got everything?”

“Yeah, I just need to put these in there and I’m not sure if I packed my purple belt”, Magnus replied, his voice trailing off into a low murmur towards the end. He bent over the bed and started going through the suitcase. “Have you seen it?”

Alec bit his lip and watched the warlock as he suddenly stopped rummaging through the suitcase and stared at something inside it, his brows furrowed and confusion written over his face. He pulled out a folded piece of clothing Alec knew all too well. “What’s that?”

“Uh…my gray sweatshirt. The one you always steal?”, Alec offered, a smirk already pulling at his lips.

Magnus rolled his eyes. “Yeah, I know that. What I was aiming for with that question – how did it get into my suitcase?” He raised an eyebrow and looked expectantly at Alec.

Alec sighed and discarded the pair of jeans he’d held, so he could walk over to Magnus. He reached out and threaded his fingers through Magnus’ belt loops so he could pull him in. “I put it in there”, he admitted, eyes soft and voice barely more than a murmur. “So you won’t get cold in London. And so you won’t feel alone there.”

“So I won’t get cold in…”, Magnus repeated, and then just looked at Alec, speechless. The shadowhunter smiled at him, his gaze calm and sure. Magnus, however, seemed like he had frozen on the spot. He stared at Alec for a moment, his features being a neutral mask, before his lips pulled into a bright smile and he crashed into Alec, hugging him as tight could. Magnus hid his face in the crook of Alec’s neck and planted a kiss on the delicate skin there. “Thank you”, he mumbled and practically melted into Alec when the shadowhunter started rubbing his hands up and down Magnus’ back. “You’re the best. I love you so much.”

+++

It took Magnus another hour to get the packing done – which was partly Alec’s fault – but eventually, they stood in the hallway, Magnus with a sharp black coat on and the gigantic suitcase next to him – and Alec wrapped up in his arms.

“And you’re sure you will be back in time for Christmas? I know it’s…mundane, but I’d love for us to celebrate together.”

Magnus silenced his boyfriend with a sweet kiss. “Alexander”, he muttered, looking at the shadowhunter with an impossibly soft glance, “of course I’ll be here. It’s our first Christmas together. I wouldn’t miss it for the world.”

Alec’s lips pulled into a soft smile. “Okay then. Have fun in London, don’t annoy Ragnor too much and make sure you’ll come back to me soon.”

The hallway got lit up by a soft purple glow as Magnus pulled up a portal. “Well, I obviously can’t make any promises about Ragnor – that old British grump hasn’t returned my calls for weeks, he’s due for some pestering.”

He turned towards Alec to kiss him one more time.  “I love you. See you next week.”

“I love you too. Now go, before I change my mind and make you stay.”

+++

A few days later, Alec realized that being without Magnus not only made him miss the warlock like crazy, but it also made him grumpy.

Sleeping at the loft without Magnus there felt odd, so he had resorted to moving back into his old room for the week. As a result, people started realizing that Alec was back at the Institute 24/7 and that they could annoy him with silly requests and questions all day long again (which applied especially to Jace, who seemed to enjoy barging into Alec’s room at whatever day- or nighttime he deemed necessary).

This resulted in Alec getting hardly any sleep and being in a bad mood most of the time, snapping at everyone who dared as much as ask him something he was not responsible for.

By the time the day of Magnus’ return rolled around, Alec was a sleep-deprived, grumpy mess and couldn’t wait to get back to the comfortable, relaxed, Jace-free calm of Magnus’ apartment. He couldn’t wait for the place to feel like home again, and not just like some place that was missing its most essential piece. Although Magnus and him had texted and called each other throughout the week, it just had not been the same.

About an hour before Magnus would be back, Alec cleared his desk at his office, said goodbye to Izzy and then, finally, headed towards a certain glamoured loft in Brooklyn Heights. He was just about done setting the table for dinner when he finally heard the familiar whoosh of a portal opening in the loft and then the soft thud of feet stepping onto carpet. Dropping the cutlery he had been holding onto the table and ignoring the terrible noise that motion made, Alec turned on his heels and headed towards the living room. He let out a breath of relief when he stepped into the room and saw Magnus right there, in person and finally back home.

Alec didn’t even get the chance to huff out a greeting when he already had his arms full of warlock. His own arms looped around Magnus’ back on instinct, and hugged him back as tight as he could. The warmth of Magnus’ body seeped through his clothes as Alec closed his eyes and breathed in the familiar scent of cologne, sandalwood and laundry detergent. His heartbeat thumped against his ribcage rapidly and warmth bubbled up in his chest, as if his body wanted to let him know that, just in case he had forgotten, Magnus was finally back where he belonged.  

When Alec opened his eyes, Magnus had pulled away from him and looked at him with a big smile on his face. “Alexander”, he said, the name tinted with affection.

“Hey”, Alec replied and tilted his head down so he could finally greet his boyfriend properly. He let the kiss linger, and it turned a bit more passionate than he had aimed for, but Alec was perfectly fine with that.

His voice sounded slightly breathy when he spoke again. “How was London?”

“Cold. Rainy. Ragnor is an old, boring man. I missed you. How was New York?”

“Terrible. I missed you too. Jace is an idiot.”

“Tell me something I don’t know”, Magnus teased and Alec let out a hearty laugh, feeling a weight lifting from his chest. The past week may have taken its toll on him, but now that Magnus was back, he could feel all the stored-up tension slowly fade away and leave only a light, happy mood in its wake. It was ridiculous, really, missing Magnus that much even though he had been away for barely a week, but Alec could not care less.

What he did care about though, was when he (quite a while later) found out that Magnus had brought him a gift. A purple Christmas sweater. The ugliest purple Christmas sweater Alec had ever seen, to be precise.

Alec snorted when he’d unwrapped it and held it out in front of him. “Really?”

Magnus smirked. “The color suits you. And it’s about time I start making up for stealing so many of yours, don’t you think?”

Alec laughed and then let the sweater slide back onto the comforter. He turned to Magnus, put one hand against his neck and let the other rest against his ribs, using the leverage to push him back onto the mattress. “Thank you”, he breathed against his boyfriend’s lips before closing the tiny bit of distance between them for another languid kiss. “I love it.”