#luminousalexander

Amaya begins bouncing in his arms, impatient and wanting to get back to her tea party. Magnus laughs and sets her down, allowing her to take him by the hand and drag him to sit next to Alec on the ground beside the coffee table.

He leans in close and presses a kiss to Alec’s lips, relishing the feeling after three days of not being able to do so. A small noise of contentment escapes Alec’s throat, and Magnus feels his lips curve up in a smile against his, just as his fingers come up to touch his neck, to touch the beads of his necklaces.

When they pull back, Alec’s eyes are shining with unbridled joy. It’s a look Magnus wants to paint into permanence, so that it could exist long after they’re both gone, if only to add some beauty and wonder to the world.

Amaya stamps her feet and clears her throat loudly to call their attention. Magnus turns his gaze to her, grinning.

“Well, I’m certainly glad I made it back in time for this wonderful occasion.” He says, winking at a giggling Amaya as he takes a tea cup from her, “Thank you, darling. When did you come up with this idea?”

“She heard one of the girls at daycare talking about tea parties and she just had to have one.” Alec says fondly, tugging gently on one of Amaya’s tight, black curls. “So of course, we stopped at the toy store on the way home and picked up the world’s best tea set.”

“Wan’ a cookie?” Amaya holds out an empty plate to her parents, who each pick up a “cookie” with enthusiasm.

“Mmm, this is good, sweetie.” Alec says, making exaggerated noises of content as he takes bites of his “cookie.” Magnus nods along in affirmation, going so far as to pick up another one from the empty plate. The resultant beam that spreads across his daughter’s face is worth everything.

“Thanks Daddy.”

Amaya turns her attention to Frankenstein, and soon becomes embroiled in a deep conversation with him, refilling his tea cup every two seconds and taking sips of her own, pinky stuck out. Magnus is filled with a sense of wonder, as he so often is, when he looks at his daughter. Nothing in the entire course of human history has ever looked so beautiful, and nothing probably will. She was a little warlock who had come to them after Alec had found her abandoned in a feral werewolf hideout on the outskirts of the city when she was but a month old. She was barely alive, and it had taken weeks of close monitoring and every drop of magic Magnus had to slowly nurse her back to health. When the time came to put her up for adoption, Alec had taken one look at him and Magnus knew that they felt the same – Amaya was their daughter. And they’d be damned if they let anyone take her away from them.

Magnus looks at Alec, then. He’s wearing sweatpants, and a dark blue sweater, worn and soft with use, the same one Magnus has slipped over his own head more times than he can count. His feet are bare, tucked under him. When he’s like this, Magnus loves him more than he can put to words. When he’s just Alexander, his husband, and the father of his child. To no surprise at all, Magnus finds that he just can’t tear his eyes away from him.

Sue him. The sight of this ridiculously tall, strong Shadowhunter man who also happens to be the Head of his Institute wearing a princess tiara and graciously accepting a refill of his tea cup from his five-year-old daughter is more adorable than it has any right to be.

Alec catches Magnus smiling like a lovesick fool at him. “What?”

“You’re wearing a purple tiara.” Magnus notes, warmth curling in his chest.

“I am wearing a purple tiara.” Alec says proudly, grin widening and gazed fixed on Magnus as he picks up his tea cup, sticks his pinky out and takes a sip from the cup, eliciting a giggle of delight from their little girl. Alec turns to her and presses a kiss into her curls.

God, Magnus loves him so damn much.

“Who’s sitting there?” Magnus asks, gesturing to an empty spot right next to Amaya.

“Ah.” Alec says solemnly, “That’s for Mr. Rags.”

Magnus bites back a grin and schools his features. “Oh. So I take it Mr. Rags isn’t back from vacation yet?”

“No.” Alec sighs along with Amaya, who looks at the empty spot with a forlorn look.

Mr. Rags, bless his soul, was Amaya’s stuffed tiger who had gone missing after Madzie had accidentally created a portal to an alternate dimension during one of her lessons with Magnus. To prevent a complete and utter meltdown, Magnus and Alec had made up the story that Mr. Rags was away on an extended vacation travelling the world.  

Amaya busies herself with pouring tea for her other guests, stopping at each one and having long conversations with them.

“God, she’s beautiful.” Alec murmurs, setting his cup down and shaking his head in disbelief, “She’s so perfect. How can one person be so perfect?”  

“She gets it from her dad.” Magnus says, grinning. Alec rolls his eyes, but he takes Magnus’ hand and brings it up to his lips nonetheless, pressing absent-minded kisses to his knuckles, to the wedding band on his ring finger.  

Everything that Magnus thought he would never have is alive in front of him right now. A family, his family, something that’s worth any adventure the world could offer him. His world centers around this. His daughter sitting across from him with an earth-shattering smile on her face, and the love of his life sitting next to him, his hand clasped around Magnus’, holding on the way he’d promised he would at their wedding.  

It’s a life he’d only ever dreamt of, on cold nights when he had nothing but his thoughts to keep him company. A dream brought to life by the best person he’s met in his centuries of life.

“Let’s have another kid.” He blurts out then, turning to look at Alec.

Alec’s face holds no surprise, or shock, but rather his eyes shine with the promise of Magnus’ future. He tightens his grip on Magnus’ hand, just as Amaya comes to them to crawl into his lap, resting her feet on Magnus’ thigh. Alec’s smile becomes impossibly wider.

“Yes.” The word rushes out of Magnus, quiet, yet fervent. His eyes are open, soft brown, lined with muted black, gazing into Alec’s.

Alec brings a hand up to touch his face, slowly at first, asking for permission, and cups his face gently when Magnus leans into his touch. His eyes flutter shut for just a second, before he opens them again.

“Okay.”

No sooner than the word falls from his lips, Alec feels the familiar surge of wind from a portal hit the back of his neck. He folds his fingers into Magnus’, and walks backwards until the wave of magic envelopes him. Portal travel has never been the most comfortable experience, but it’s different when it’s Magnus. To Alec, it feels as familiar as Magnus’ rings pressing into the palm of his hand, as familiar as his smile on a warm morning. As familiar as his lips, mapping out constellations on his skin.

And Magnus keeps his eyes fixed on Alexander as they step into the bedroom of the loft. The light is softer here. The rushed voices and sounds of the Institute linger in his ears, slowly softening into silence.

Magnus waves his free hand to change both of them out of their clothes and into more comfortable ones. He walks them over to the bed. Feels Alexander’s fingers tighten their hold on his own as they slip under the covers.

It feels different. A line of tension winds its way down the contours of Alexander’s shoulders, a residual crease between his eyebrows. There’s a space between them on the bed where they lay facing each other. A space currently occupied by their intertwined hands.

The curve of Alexander’s lip cuts through the soft light of the room. Magnus allows himself to memorize every inch of him. Allows himself to find peace, and home, in the luminous hazel of his eyes.

“I’m sorry.” Magnus whispers, and almost immediately, the burning begins in his throat, and his eyes sting with the promise of tears.  

Alec brings Magnus’ hand up to his lips, eyes wet. He presses a small kiss to the back of his palm. “I’m sorry too,” he murmurs against his skin. His gaze finds Magnus’ again, “We both said things we shouldn’t have.”

Magnus licks his lips before reaching a hand to place it against Alec’s cheek. He runs his thumb over the expanse of his cheekbone, feeling the prickle of day-old stubble against his fingers. Alec’s eyes are wide, and soft, and he’s looking at him with the kind of look Magnus only sees when it’s directed towards him. Like the doors to heaven could open up for him and he’d still want to be right here, in Magnus’ arms.

He’s so beautiful.

“I was reminded of something today.” Alec says quietly, thumb drawing small circles over the back of Magnus’ palm, “I don’t know if you already know this, but I hadn’t remembered it till now.”

He swallows, takes in a breath before speaking again, “Nephilim – we only love once.”

Magnus’ fingers stop in their gentle movements, “What do you mean?”

Alec shifts closer to him, “I mean, we only fall in love, like truly fall in love, once. In our whole lives. We could be with a number of people, but once we find the one? That’s – that’s it. Forever.”

Magnus had known of the intensity of a mortal’s life, how they felt everything more in every sense of the word. But he hadn’t expected this. Hadn’t expected to find the beat of Alec’s heart tied inexplicably to his own. And he can’t remember when his heart had picked up its pace, when it had begun to feel like nothing outside this room and this cocoon of blankets and this man lying across from him mattered.

“So what you said over breakfast, it’s not true. Even if I had been with someone before you, it wouldn’t have made a difference,” Alec continues, completely oblivious to Magnus’ heart thrumming an erratic rhythm against his chest, “because you’re it for me. You were always going to be it. You are, quite literally, the love of my life.”

It’s in moments like this, when Alexander speaks to him as though there is a direct connection between his mouth and his heart, that leave Magnus lost for words. Alec has always been the kind of person who, when he feels something, feels it to the core of his being. The intensity with which he feels, and loves, is something that Magnus loves endlessly about him.

And it’s the wrong time to be at a loss for words, because all Magnus wants to do now is tell Alec that there is never going to be anyone else for him either, that this, what they have, this is it. This is what he wants forever, that Alexander Lightwood is the love of his life. That Magnus would move heaven and earth and hell and everything in between to find a way to keep this until time itself became obsolete.

He leans forward and closes the distance between their lips. It’s a kiss meant to love, and affirm. A promise, that this is as real for him as it is for Alexander.

When he pulls back, Alec’s eyes remain shut for a few more seconds, like he had found himself again. Magnus drinks in the way the hazel of his eyes reminds him of the forest, and of sunshine, and of honeyed kisses all at once.

“Do you have any idea how much I love you?” It’s not a question Magnus expects an answer to, and he sees the effect of the words in Alec, in the way the crease between his eyebrows softens immediately, the way his lips part. The way pure adoration pours from his eyes.

Magnus pulls him closer, until Alexander’s breath ghosts over his collarbones. He wraps his arm around Alec’s torso, pulling the one still locked with Alec’s up to his chest.

“If I could have my way with the world, I’d have you by my side forever. I’d never let you go.”

He presses his lips to Alec’s knuckles. “I meant what I said, Alexander, all those weeks ago,” he says quietly, “That you’d unlocked something in me. This – this is it for me too.”

And I will do whatever it takes to keep it that way.

“I love you.” Alec whispers, and Magnus can sense the underlying promise in his voice, and he knows that even though the fight to find their forever will be long, and arduous, he won’t be alone.

He kisses Alexander again, for that promise. For a love that feels like that the stars had aligned themselves right in front of him.