#malecweek2018

The workroom froze. Printers stopped working; fingers stopped moving; everyone stopped breathing in fear of their imminent death. Alec could only hear the hard thud of his heart beating away in his chest as if it could run away from this situation. Running, however, would make the situation much, much worse. And Raj was already looking far too smug from his corner of the room.

“Alexander.” It was never good when Mr. Bane used his full name. “Do watch where you’re going next time.”

Next time. Alec loosed a relieved breath. There was going to be a next time.

“Get me another coffee, Angela from downstairs – and everyone get back to work.”

A snap of his fingers, and the workroom resumed like a song put on pause. Everyone ignored the enormous elephant in the room – all except Raj who was clearly gossiping with a cute temp passing by – and Alec moved towards Underhill for the coffee, then in search of “Angela from downstairs.”

Alec escorted her all the way up two flights of stairs, claiming the elevator was “broken”. She smoothed out her skirt before entering, staying just beyond the field of reach outside of Mr. Bane’s desk. “You asked for me, sir.”

Magnus’ brilliantly sharp eyes found Alec’s. Alec ignored the fact that he was wearing a completely new outfit. “Close the door – and stay,” he added. “I’ll need a witness.”

A string of curses wafted through Alec’s head, and all of them threatened to leave his lips. He closed the door, staying in the corner of the room.

“Miss,” Magnus drawled.

It took a moment for the woman to reply with a light, “Woods.”

“Miss Woods. You’re fired.”

Alec’s heart jerked. Mr. Bane was nothing if not straightforward.

“But – But, why?” Ms. Woods blubbered, making her cheeks turn pink with unspilled tears.

Mr. Bane stood to his full, domineering height. His fingers, adorned carefully with different rings of shapes and sizes, danced over the front pages of the magazines splayed out for his choosing. Alec recognized one of them, the thin, twisted silver band on his pinkie, but was caught by an image hidden in the bottom of the magazine pile. Magnus picked the issue out, flipped it open to a precise page on the first try, and turned it around for Ms. Woods to see.

“Magnus Bane is seen managing his time in the comfort of others rather than in the solidarity of his own business. It would seem he cares more for his own success, an unnamed source claims,” Magnus continued, “If he spends this much time away, how will Pandemonium survive? Photos supplied by an anonymous source.”

Alec gulped. There could only be one thing –

“Your boyfriend is Axel Mortmain, correct?” Magnus kept pushing the subject, drawing it out and making the poor woman sweat in the very hole she had dug.

“Yes, but –”

“And he works with Trendy Magazine, correct?”

“Yes,” she ground out. “But –”

Mr. Bane held up a single finger, silencing her as he took the argument home. “Did you, or did you not, supply him with these claims and photos of my personal life?”

“You’re hardly around!” She exclaimed, and Alec knew she had nailed and sealed her own coffin shut. “I was venting to my boyfriend after a long day of sitting behind a desk – Why are you laughing? Are you laughing at me?”

Magnus was chuckling. It wasn’t the same one that made his eyes crinkle at the edges, or bend over to regain his breath. It was deep, dark and a sinister sound that Mr. Bane only used to prove a point.

He flipped to the next page, and amidst the various photos clearly taken from afar, he pointed a slim finger to the passage near the bottom. “Can you explain this to me?”

Alec had to bend forward to see what it was. The words were printed in a much larger font than the rest, bringing all attention to its phrase.

He’s just as bad as his father.

“Is this from sitting behind a desk? Did you bang your knee on one of the drawers and think, Magnus Bane is just as bad as his father?” Ms. Woods stayed perfectly still. Her hands poised tight against her sides. “That’s what I thought.”

Magnus slowly turned and took his seat behind his desk. Ms. Woods had been tossed out of his peripheral, as far as conversations went. He ignored her fuming in the middle of his office.

Alec moved to get the door. It was clear to anyone that they were done, ties cut and bridges burned, but Ms. Woods would not stand down.

“You can’t fire me,” she sputtered. Alec made a move towards her wrist, and she swung, missing his cheek by an inch.

Mr. Bane straightened once again. “And why can’t I?”

“I’ve been working her for years! I’ve put my heart and soul into this place and to throw it all away would be –”

“Alexander has been working here for twice – three times as long as you have or ever will. You are a speck of dust in comparison. Why would I keep dirt around?” With that, Ms. Woods was done. Magnus turned to his computer. “You have an hour to get out of the building, and if not, security will be happy to remove you.”

Alec opened the doors for good this time. He walked her as far as the elevator to ensure that she didn’t stir anything else up on the workroom floor. He hit the little button, a green arrow springing to life, and the doors split open.

Ms. Woods’ hand shot out just before they could close. “I wasn’t wrong.”

Alec sighed. “Ms. Woods, please leave.”

“You’ll see. He’s just like his father, and you know it.”

Asmodeus Bane was Magnus’ father, true. He used to own a large, entrepreneurial company in Indonesia, then Los Angeles and New York that had turned sour with reports of embezzlement, poor working conditions and pay, and unsportsmanlike conduct of business transactions, which were also true. He had almost roped in Magnus to work with him, but he declined, cut all ties with his father, and made his own life, career, name. Magnus Bane was most definitely not like his father – he was much better.

“All I know is that you have wasted five minutes of your hour to leave. You better get moving.”

Ms. Woods removed her hand, allowing the doors to almost close before saying, “He doesn’t deserve you.”

The doors clicked close, leaving Alec standing there with her last words rolling right off his shoulders. He had heard them many times in the time he had been working at Pandemonium. He accepted this job without so much as a single idea of what fashion really was, or how to dress properly around other people. He doesn’t deserve you, had been a motto, a fact that Alec was determined to break down and change into, He deserves you.

Alec made his way back to the main floor, which was busy but carefully listening for aftershocks of the afternoon. “Get back to work,” he barked, and all eyes turned away. Underhill approached, saddling up to him and handing him another coffee. Alec never knew how he could get it so fast. “Thanks.”

Alec went back to Magnus’ office with the new coffee in hand, but he had a feeling that it wasn’t the solution to their problem. Magnus was still seated at his desk, computer abandoned, a single hand running through his hair without end and turning his neat hair flip into wrecked strands. Alec said nothing and sat the coffee next to him.

Magnus muttered a weak, “Thank you,” in exchange. He didn’t reach for it.

Alec felt the need to say, “You are not your father,” but the words wouldn’t do the justice that Magnus deserved now. He needed a distraction. “What happened in Peru,” he asked instead.

Magnus scoffed. His hands stopped and rested on the edge of the desk. He uninterestedly played with the corner of one of the magazines.

Play with me, Alec’s eyes practically begged. Tease me. Do something. Magnus was notoriously messing with Alec’s head, sending him on bogus errands and calling random numbers. It was his way of breaking him into the job and showing Alec how he worked.

Finally, Magnus cracked, a small pull of his lip upwards into a smirk as he recalled his excursion. “Wouldn’t you like to know.”

“I would,” Alec countered.

“Don’t you read the papers?”

“I’m more of a hearing-it-from-the-source kind of guy.”

A wider smirk, and a pause. “There was a lot of alcohol involved.”

“Naturally.” Alec silenced with a ringed finger pointed at him though it held no seriousness. Not as it had been with Ms. Woods.

“Let’s say I am no longer welcome in the country.”

“Magnus,” Alec breathlessly chuckled. Of all the people who would be able to be kicked out of a country, and banned, Magnus would be one of them.

A familiar spark returned to Magnus’ eyes, gratefully. His fingers played with a bead on his necklace, rolling them back and forth as he scanned Alec’s figure. “Shouldn’t it be Mr. Bane?”

“Shouldn’t I be Mr. Lightwood?” Alec countered.

Magnus fingers stilled, and a natural coy smile crept to his face. There it is, Alec thought. “Touché. Careful, I may fire you for being too cocky.”

“I’ve been told it’s one of my finer qualities.” By you.

The man leaned back, a hand creeping up the side of his neck and towards the golden ear cuff he was adamant on wearing at all times. “Indeed.”

Alec’s gaze flickered to the cuff which Magnus was playing with. He smiled, then nodded to the door. “Come on.”

“Why?”

“Where’s your sense of adventure?” Magnus rose an eyebrow. “Fine. Overflow. You need to get out of the office.”

Overflow was a whole floor dedicated to displaced outfits and unused cuts of past seasons’ clothing. It was the one place where prior year’s runway duds go to die. It also happened to be one of Magnus’ favorite places to drag Alec – it had been one of those ridiculous errands and favors – to try on horrendous outfits.

“You don’t need to do that, Alexander. I’m fine.”

“I know you are.” Alec meant it. “You are early, however. We expected you in two weeks and nothing is prepared.”

Magnus, posing in protest, stood and made his way around to his assistant. “Nothing?”

“Nothing?” Alec mocked. “I have not worked here this long to be unprepared. Everything’s ready, but I think having a little fun takes precedence.”

“Fun? Who are you?”

“The best assistant ever –” Magnus made a face. “Really? Because I was thinking of trying on that piece from Jeremy Scott. You know, the one with the leather –”

“Let’s go,” Magnus snapped, grabbing Alec’s wrist and pulling him out of the office and towards the elevator, Alec laughing the entire way. He made sure to tell Underhill that Mr. Bane was not taking any more calls, and to watch over his station until he returned. When Underhill asked for how long, and Magnus tugged impatiently on his arm, Alec managed a quick later before being dragged away.

 Underhill closed Mr. Bane’s office, then settled at the desk mirrored from Alec’s. He logged into his server, then the chatroom.

The_Twenty-Fourth_Floor_of_HELL Chatroom [LIVE]

therajster: Lightwood’s dead. He has to be.

Emma_C: About time.

Emma_C: You owe me 20, Jules.

JulesB1: Nope. You owe me.

JulesB1: You said Monday AFTERNOON. It’s clearly still the AM.

therajster: what’s going on?

MarkB: Nothing.

Emma_C: Really?

Underhill_J: He’s a goner.

R_Maia: I knew it

therajster: that’s what i said

therajster: He’s def getting fired.

therajster: Hello?

therajster: I can see you’re still here.

Emma_C: Are you blind or just stupid?

therajster: Excuse you?

Underhill_J I can’t.

Underhill_J has left the chat.

Emma_C has left the chat.

therajster: What’s going on?

32 others have left the chat.

therajster: What just happened?

therajster: Hello?

 “Are you serious?” Alec laughed at the screen on Magnus’ phone. The chatroom was exploding with comments from everyone, especially Raj, all of which had something to do with the pair of them disappearing.

He settled on the couch in the back of Overflow, pulling Magnus onto his lap. “How long have you been logged in?”

“Day one. Who do you think moderates this thing?” Magnus scoffed. “I can’t let people go off on their own and talk about me. Remember this: I have eyes and ears everywhere.” Magnus pushed a finger into the upper corner of Alec’s peck. He pushed it away.

“Everywhere-everywhere?”

A small noise of approval, similar to a thick purr, came from the back of his throat.

“You’re insatiable.”

“And don’t you know it,” Magnus quipped. One of his ringed hands ran through his locks. “I don’t know how Raj keeps getting back into the system though. He should be kept out until he’s invited back in by an existing user.”

“Mhmm,” Alec hummed, not really listening anymore. His face dipped into the notch of Magnus’ neck and shoulder, breathing in deeply the scent that was irrevocably Magnus. “Are we going to talk about Raj the whole day?”

“Do you have something else in mind?”

Alec pried himself from Magnus’ closeness, peering up and towards a pile of clothing. “I’d like to see you in that.”

“That?” Magnus pointed towards the same piece Alec was glaring at. “That’s a scrap of cloth.”

“I know.”

Here’s the link for the outfit Alec said he’d wear: