#saenda

Alec snorted. Everything was a competition for Isabelle. She and Jace had been to be terrible influences on each other when they’d been younger, always egging each other on to new heights of recklessness in the name of winning.

“Twenty-nine”, he told her, and her grin widened, baring teeth.

“Hah! Thirty-three! That’s the fourth time this month,” Isabelle preened a little, flicking her hair out of her face with a flourish.

Alec shrugged loosely, and her face fell, even as she fell into step with him. It was never as fun for her when he didn’t play along with the competition, and so he made a point of pretending he was unaffected by their small sibling rivalries, if only because he knew it irritated her.

Alec and Izzy were both runed up, which meant that nobody saw them as they vaulted the rope fencing off the lawns and started for the south exit. Izzy looped his arm through his as they walked, and Alec looked down at her with a fond smile. Few things in life were as effortless as time spent with his sister.

“Ooh look, Alec! The skating rink! That is such a cute date idea, isn’t it?” Isabelle pointed across at a couple who were gliding across the ice, holding hands and staring into each other’s eyes. There was a faraway look in her expressive eyes for a second as she watched.

“Uh, I guess.”

She flicked her eyes up to his.

“Why only ‘I guess?’” She lowered her voice to imitate his deeper, more deadpan tone, raising a single perfect eyebrow at him.

“It looks like a recipe for disaster. Look - that guy just tripped and knocked the girl he’s with over! Why do mundanes think sliding over ice with knives on their shoes and maybe also killing their dates is fun?” Alec gestured at the rink as they walked past and then turned back to his sister, his eyes wide.

“It’s cute! You get to hold hands and make lots of excuses to be close to each other to stop each other falling over. Besides, it’s Christmassy, Alec!”

“Oh my god,” he groaned. “Not you too! We don’t even celebrate Christmas, Iz.”

Isabelle made a face. “Yes, and it sucks. We should.”

Alec grimaced and said nothing. Christmas was the antithesis of the Spartan, utilitarian, Shadowhunter life. They didn’t get the luxury of days off, and the Clave took take a very dim view of the prospect of an entire day lost to the gross consumerism and overconsumption that characterised a mundane Christmas. According to the Clave, Shadowhunters were above those earthly excesses.

He glanced down at Isabelle, unsure when that had changed for her.

“It’s never bothered you before. Has it?”

“It’s just... so much has changed over the last year. We met Simon, and... Clary.” She swallowed hard, her eyes shining and Alec untangled his arm to reach across her shoulder and squeeze her into his side. “When I hear about their lives - the freedom they had... it’s made me wish we had something outside of training, and missions, and our duty. I believe in what we do, of course... but I don’t think it would hurt to relax the rules a little, you know?

“Sure, that’s a fair point. I don’t see how Christmas comes into that though?”

She gave him an impish smile. “Well, it always looks like so much fun in the movies.”

Her face grew contemplative as she continued, “It’s about what it represents, I guess? Not - religion, necessarily. It’s about goodwill, and family, and celebrating the year, and the people important to you. It’s a moment of light at the darkest point of the year... and I think we could all do with some light in the darkness right now.” Isabelle glanced at him, her eyes wet.

Alec was silent, tightening his arm where it lay across her shoulders as she blinked rapidly for a few moments.

“I... yeah. I’ve never thought about it that way, I guess. It’s just always seemed like a pain. The city gets so busy with the tourists in December, and all they seem to do is get in the way. And then all the presents and the food...” He rolled his eyes.

“Oh, you Scrooge,” Isabelle rolled her eyes back at him, the corner of her mouth twitching.

Alec looked at her, keeping his face blank. “Who?”

“Oh my god, Alec! How can you not get that reference?!”

In fact, Alec knew who Scrooge was - Magnus had a set of Charles Dickens’ novels in the loft, a couple even signed by the man himself during a pub crawl one night in London. He just enjoyed needling his sister.

The corners of his mouth twitched, but Alec kept his face as blank as possible. Isabelle rolled her eyes.

“You need to get out of your office more, big brother.”

“I get out plenty. I’m out with you now, aren’t I? And Magnus and I went for Singaporean food last night.”

“Hunts. Don’t. Count.” She told him. “And speaking of Magnus...” She trailed off, lost for words. “How are things? How is he?” Her voice was gentle, her glossy eyes soft with compassion.

Alec felt a pang of the strange mixture of tenderness and guilt that was his constant companion these days.

“Magnus is... okay. He’s okay.” Alec settled on. “It’s difficult, you know? Some days are better than others.”

Isabelle nodded, her eyes wide with sympathy.

“But... I think we’re getting to a point where he has more good days than bad. He’s picked up a few new hobbies - and it seems to help, keeping busy.”

She smiled a little and pressed her head against his shoulder for a moment, wordless affection passing between them. “I’m here for both of you if you ever need anything, right? You only need to ask.”

He squeezed her shoulder. “I know.”

There was silence as they gazed at the skyscrapers in the distance. After a few moments, Isabelle broke the silence.

“Anyway, speaking of Magnus,” and her voice was teasing again. “I bet you’d take him ice skating if he wanted to go!”

Alec opened his mouth - and then shut it again. There was nothing he could say to that. She was right - he’d do anything Magnus asked him to if he thought it would make him smile.

---

When Alec let himself into the loft, kicking his boots off at the door, he was hit by a blast of warm air that made his cold nose tingle, and the savoury scents of the ragù simmering on the kitchen stovetop, of the sage and sandalwood omnipresent in Magnus’ home.

“Magnus?” he called after a few moments when no sign of his errant boyfriend emerged.

“In here!” came the answer. The voice came from the room that had once upon a time been the apothecary and Alec’s heart fell to the pit of his stomach.

Magnus didn’t spend a lot of time in there anymore, but when he did, he always came out of it sad, and a little smaller.

Alec tapped against the empty door frame to announce himself, and Magnus, sat at his old desk with a cardboard box in front of him, glanced up to give him a soft smile.

“Hello, darling.”

Alec’s shoulders dropped, the tension leaking out of his muscles as if it had never been there. Magnus’ smile was small but genuine. His pleasure at the sight of Alec gleamed in his crinkled eyes, and there was answering throb of joy in Alec’s chest, a sweet surge of tenderness sweeping through him.

Suddenly needy for the touch of Magnus’ skin against his, for the taste of his mouth and his spicy-warm smell, for the reassuring strength of his shoulders and the sure touch of his hands, Alec crossed the room in less than a heartbeat, and then there were plush lips opening under his, as he worshipped Magnus’ mouth with eager, tongue-slick kisses.

Alec sighed a little, low in his throat, and stroked his thumbs over the velvet nap of the shaved sides of Magnus’ head, deep, soul-aching contentment sinking into his bones.

This kiss has none of the electric urgency of a first kiss. It was full of confidence and certainty - a way of saying ‘Hi, how are you?. I kissed you good-morning and I’m kissing you good evening. I will kiss you again tomorrow, and the day after that, and the day after that.’

When he pulled away, only because he needed to breathe, Magnus’ eyes were liquid and dark, his pupils blown. His breath came out a little unsteady against Alec’s mouth, and when he spoke, his voice was husky.

“Well, that was some hello.”

Alec smiled and pressed a kiss into the side of Magnus’ head. “I guess I missed you today. You’re a sight for sore eyes.”

Magnus’ face was soft, his smile gentle. “I missed you, sweetheart. Always. Did you have a rough day?”

“Oh, you know. Long, boring, full of disgusting demons. Izzy and I dealt with a swarm of Drevak demons in the middle of Central Park.”

Magnus made a face. “Ugh, disgusting things. And in Central Park, even worse - I know you hate hunts in Manhattan.”

“Yeah, and it’s even worse at the minute, because of all the Christmas crap. The whole city’s gone crazy for it, there are hordes of tourists everywhere. Izzy and I caught up by the crowds taking selfies outside of some fancy display window on Fifth while we were trying to track the infestation.”

Magnus paused, something in his face dimming for a moment. In the next moment, he was smiling again, but it was smaller, a little fainter. His voice is light as he asks “You’re not feeling festive, then?”

Alec shrugged, his shoulders jostling Magnus’ arms where they circled around his neck as they kissed. “Not really...” He said, slowly, Isabelle’s words ringing in his ears. “I mean, I’ve never celebrated it, so. It all just seems like a lot of unnecessary fuss? I’m just looking forward to January when it’ll all be over.”

“Well, you’ll get your wish soon enough,” Magnus said with a light chuckle, glancing down for a second. “And in the meantime, you can always take shelter here.” He pulled back, slipping out of Alec’s arms to slide the box he’d had in front of him under his desk, kicking it with one foot to push it out of sight.

“What’s in the box?” Alec asked, intrigued.

“Oh, just some old potions supplies,” Magnus replied, waving his hands airily. “Nothing for either of us to concern ourselves with, I was just checking to see if they were still fresh enough to use before I pass them on to Catarina.”

Alex shifted, the heaviness of guilt that was his daily companion setting his stomach churning at the mention of Magnus’ loss of magic.

Still, his face was bright and his mouth was a gentle curve when he turned back to Alec. Seized again with the desire to touch him, to be as close to him as possible, Alec stepped in and captured Magnus’ jaw in his hand. He stroked one thumb over the architectural curve of his cheekbone as he leant close, and then they were kissing again, Magnus’ hands sliding into Alec’s hair as he bit down on Alec’s lower lip.

After several minutes - or hours, Alec had lost all track of time by the time he resurfaced - he broke away with a gasp, blood pumping. “How long do we have before dinner is ready?”

The face Magnus gave him in response face was rueful. “Not long enough for all the things I want to do with you, Alexander. It’ll be ready in,” and he glanced at the watch on his wrist. “Well, now.”

Alec took a calming breath in through his nose, trying to calm the roiling heat that had swept through him at the touch of Magnus’ mouth. “Raincheck, then? It smells great, whatever it is. Thank you for cooking,” and he gave Magnus a grateful smile.

“You’re welcome, sweetheart. It’s new ragù recipe I’m trying out - I’m trying to replicate the wild boar pasta we had at that incredible trattoria in Siena this spring, do you remember? I found it on YouTube - the pasta is homemade, and I’m sure I’ve got the texture right this time,” Magnus replied, his eyes sparkling.

Cooking was one of the more successful hobbies he’d taken up since losing his magic, and he was proving to be an excellent chef. Alec, who was an enthusiastic and vocal supporter of his culinary talents and also a firm believer that there was nothing Magnus couldn’t do if he put his mind to it, had devoured his last three attempts at homemade pasta and not picked up on anything wrong. Still, Magnus had been less than satisfied.

“I can’t wait,” Alec assured him, and the delighted smile he received, the crinkle in Magnus’ nose and the shine in his eyes, was all he needed to make the worries and cares of his day fade into nothingness as if they’d never existed. By the time they sat down to eat that evening, Alec had all but forgotten the exchange they’d had about Christmas and the mysterious box.

---

The next day, Magnus sneezed seven times at breakfast.

This was no cause for alarm even if it was a little unusual. Alec laughed, blessed him, kissed him goodbye and made his way to the Institute thinking no more of it.

That afternoon, he was halfway through reading a fifteen-page report on the recent migratory patterns of Shax demons when his phone chimed with a text.

Alexander, I’m a bit under the weather :( nothing to worry yourself about, but I think it’s best if we cancel our dinner plans for tonight - I’m sorry! Stay at the Institute tonight, I doubt I’ll be much company :( See you soon darling, love you xxxxxxx

Alec stared at his phone screen for a second and then set down the report. They had reservations at one of the city’s newest and most hyped restaurants, to try the nine-course Pan-Asian tasting menu which New York’s food critics had been raving about for months. They’d had to make the reservations in September. Magnus had reminded him several times only that week not to forget, or make other plans.

Despite the instruction for Alec not to worry, something had to be wrong for Magnus to cancel like this.

Alec bolted from his chair, the Shax report forgotten. He made a beeline for the armoury which his parabatai had been haunting in recent months.

He found Jace inside, his hair wet and arms shining with sweat as he moved through a drill with his seraph blade. From the tremor in his muscles and the pallid grey of his complexion, he had to have been at it for hours, and as Alec watched, he realised with a sinking sense of dread he would have to intervene again in this latest attempt at self-destruction.

One problem at a time, he told himself. One at a time.

“Jace?”

Jace fell out of form and turned to where Alec stood in the door. “Hey. What’s up.”

“I think something’s up with Magnus. I’m heading to his, not sure when I’ll be back. Can you cover me?”

“Sure, no problem,” Jace agreed without hesitation, turning to the weapons rack to put away his blade. “Go take care of things with Magnus, I’ll hold down the fort for you.”

Alec couldn’t not ask, even if he knew the answer. “Are you okay?”

The look he got in response was dull and fleeting, Jace’s eyes falling swiftly to the floor as he came to stand by Alec. “I’m fine. Stop worrying about me and go worry about your boyfriend.”

Alec’s stomach turned, and he reached out to his parabatai, gripping the nape of Jace’s neck. “It’s my job to worry about you. But okay, I’m going. Talk to Izzy if you need back up?”

Jace’s smile was a mere twitch at the corner of his mouth. “Sure, got it. Go.”

For a second, Alec wished he could tear himself in two. He hated to leave Jace when he was like this, on one of his bad days. He was sick with guilt at the thought of failing his parabatai. But he couldn’t stay - Magnus needed him and that was a pull like a tether tugging at his heart.

He squeezed Jace’s neck again in a weak gesture of thanks, and turned away. As he jogged through the halls of the Institute, he slipped his stele out of his pocket and activated the speed rune on his left forearm, inhaling a sharp breath through his nose as the combination rush of adrenaline and angelic magic thrummed through his veins.

When he reached the doors, he started to run.

---

Alec didn’t crash through the door to the loft, but he had to catch himself on the doorframe as he stumbled into the loft.

“Magnus?” He called out, still breathless from the fifteen-minute sprint from the Institute.

“Alexander?” A thick voice called in response. A second later, Magnus appeared, shuffling out of his bedroom, all swaddled up in an enormous blanket. He was ashen under the warm brown of his complexion, his red nose standing out in stark contrast to the unusual pallor of his skin. “What are you doing here? I thought I text-”

“You did, I got your text,” Alec hurried to reassure him. “But I wasn’t just going to leave you alone when there’s something wrong. What’s wrong? I thought you didn’t get-.”

His words ground to an abrupt halt. Magnus had told him once that for warlocks, their energy not only powered their lifeforce and stopped them ageing, it also made them immune to mundane illnesses. Magnus hadn’t been sick a day in his life since his warlock mark appeared alongside his magic. His cells healed themselves quicker than disease could take hold.

But without it - without his magic, Magnus was as vulnerable to the common cold as any mundane.

Alec’s voice stuck in his throat. He stepped forward helplessly, reaching out. Magnus’ eyes were downcast, his generous mouth pursed into a firm line - but he came into Alec’s embrace and folded in under his chin as if he belonged there, gripping Alec in a hug that was just a shade too tight for comfort.

Alec searched for something to say, casting his mind about for the right words, the words that would fix this and to make things better somehow, or at least break the tension that was so palpable. He knew, even as he tried, that he wouldn’t succeed - there was nothing that would fix this for Magnus.

All he can say is, “I love you,” pressing a kiss into the soft darkness of Magnus’ hair. “I love you and I’m here for you, okay? Let me be here for you.”

Another moment of silence, and then Magnus looked up, his eyes wet but a tremulous smile fixed firmly on his face. “Of course, Alexander,” and he swiped at his eyes, dashing away from the wetness with an impatient hand. “I had only thought to spare you my company while I’m so snotty and disgusting,” and he raised his eyebrows and laughed, a little self-deprecating.

“Hey,” Alec said, cupping his cheek. “You know I love this face. Even if it is snotty right now.” He mock-grimaced and then both laughed.

“I love you too,” Magnus said, his face full of a sweetness that made Alec’s heartache. “And if I wasn’t so sick, I would kiss you right now until you can’t feel your toes.”

“I don’t care about that.” Alec leant in and pressed a tender kiss to his mouth. “If I have to be snotty in exchange for kissing you, then so be it.”

Magnus put his face in his hands and laughed.

---

Alec spent the rest of the afternoon looking after Magnus. He tucked him up in bed and stroked his hair until Magnus fell asleep, wheezing through his mouth where he was curled up across Alec’s chest.

After texting Isabelle and Jace to let them know he would need a few days off at least, Alec spent the rest of the afternoon googling and taking notes on mundane remedies for the common cold. By the time Magnus woke up, dizzy and disorientated like only a three-hour afternoon nap can make someone, he had a plan of attack in place.

“Ugh, I am so gross,” Magnus groaned, sneezing five times in quick succession. Alec reached out to push his hair away from his forehead, which was cool and a little damp under his forehead.

“Why don’t I run you a bath? That always makes you feel better.”

Magnus sighed. “Oh darling, would you? That sounds wonderful.”

Alec left him in bed while he ran the bath, pouring in a few drops of eucalyptus and lavender oil from the essential oils in the bathroom cabinet. The bathroom filled with sweet-smelling steam and Magnus sighed in delight when he slipped into the water.

“Oh, this is wonderful. I am like a new man already.”

Alec leaned into and pressed a soft kiss to his forehead. “You relax in here, I’m going to run a few errands.”

While Magnus soaked, Alec called for takeout from the Jewish deli down the road - chicken soup was one thing that nearly every mundane on the internet had agreed would help. He changed the sheets on the bed and did the leftover dishes from the breakfast they’d shared that morning.

By the time Magnus had finished in the bath, his fingers wrinkled and his voice a little less stuffed up, Alec had cued up an old episode of Project Runway and was dishing up the soup and dumplings into two bowls.

“Alexander, I think you are an actual angel,” Magnus told him fervently. “Have I mentioned today how much I adore you?

“Eat your soup,” Alec replied, the corner of his mouth twitching.

Within the twenty minutes of finishing their meal, Magnus was asleep again on the couch, making an adorable snuffling wheeze with every breath. Alec looked down at his sleeping boyfriend and wondered at how he still found him cute, even when he was snoring.

An hour later, the door buzzed, and Alec leapt to answer it.

His sister was standing on the other side, a paper bag in her hands. Isabelle smiled at him. “Hey, I got your message. I figured you wouldn’t have had the chance to go to the drugstore yet, so I asked Simon what you’d need and got everything he suggested. The list was… extensive.” She widened her eyes for emphasis. “You should have everything you need.”

Alec took the bag from her and looked inside. Aspirin, cough drops, orange juice, honey and lemons, a few boxes of tissues, menthol balm, a piece of lined paper… and a whole head of garlic?.

He looked askance at Isabelle, holding the garlic up and raising one eyebrow.

Isabelle shrugged. “Apparently it’s a thing. Simon said his Bubbie Helen used to make him garlic soup when he got sick as a kid. It’s great for the immune system, he says. He wrote the recipe down for you.”

Alec picked up the piece of paper in the bag and his eyebrows shot up. “Forty cloves of garlic? Is he kidding?”

She laughed, and her hands up. “He swears it’ll help! Up to you if you want to take the risk… but at least you’ll keep the vampires at bay.”

Alec laughed and pulled her in for a loose hug. “Thanks, Iz. I seriously owe you.”

“Oh you owe me more than you can ever pay back,” she said with a wink, backing towards the stairs. “Just take care of Magnus, okay?”

“You know I will.”

---

The next day, Magnus told Alec in all seriousness, in between fits of violent coughing, that he thought he was dying.

He seemed worse to Alec’s concerned gaze, and spent most of the day on the couch, either dozing, complaining, or adding the ever-growing mountain of white tissues that surrounded him.

Over the following few days, Alec forced him to drink copious glasses of orange juice, measured out doses of aspirin on a strict four-hourly regimen, and submitted to being forcibly cuddled by a whiny, wheezing warlock with good grace.

He squeezed more lemons than he could count to make a honey and lemon tea, which helped soothe Magnus’ throat at least a little.

He rubbed menthol balm into Magnus’ chest, which caused him to wrinkle his nose at the unpleasant stickiness, but also helped him breathe more freely.

But by the end of the week, despite all of their temporary remedies, Magnus was still miserable, and Alec would have done anything to make him better. The only thing that Alec hadn’t yet tried was Simon’s forty garlic clove soup.

With a sigh, Alec stood up and brushed a hand through Magnus’ hair. “Hey, I’m going to go sort out something for dinner. You okay here for a bit?”

The smile he got in response was wan, but he had to give Magnus points for effort. “Of course, sweetheart. Thank you for sorting it out, I’m sorry I’m still not up to much.”

“Don’t apologise,” Alec told him firmly and leant down for a kiss. “I want to do it.”

It took ten minutes of searching through their paper recycling to track down the paper bag Izzy brought over and the discarded recipe inside it, and Alec let out out a triumphant “Aha!” as he pulled it out.

He straightened out the crumpled piece of paper on the kitchen worktop and frowned at the first line. “A pestle and mortar? Where the hell am I going to find one of those?”

Alec knew Magnus had one - he’d seen him using it for potions, and later, for the new recipes he was learning - but a thorough search of all the kitchen cupboards proved fruitless. The only other place in the loft it could be would be the former apothecary, a place which Alec had always tried to hold as sacrosanct. But Magnus had been boxing up old potions ingredients the other day, hadn’t he? Maybe the pestle and mortar had got caught up with the rest of the stuff Magus was planning to pass to Catarina.

Slipping through the door of the apothecary, Alec took a second to let his eyes adjust to the darkness. Little used over the last few months, the windows were shut up, and the clutter that Alec had grown used to seeing across the workspaces was gone. His stomach churned queasily at the reminder of how much Magnus had sacrificed for his sake.

Alec rounded the desk and knel, tugging the box towards him and opening it up. He was expecting to see bottles and jars of strange and nefarious potions ingredients - werewolf fur, or vampire fangs. Instead, what he saw was - tinsel.

Reams and reams of tinsel. And strings of lights, and glass baubles, and a gleaming gold star.

Alec stared for a moment. Why was Magnus getting rid of his christmas decorations? And why would he have told Alec that the box contained old potions ingredients…? Why had he lied?

He cast his mind back to the conversation they’d had that day, a sinking sensation in his chest. Magnus had said nothing about the contents of the box until after Alec had said he couldn’t wait for Christmas to be over…

The guilt that was his constant companion surged, and Alec tipped his head back with a sigh. Despite how hard he tried, he never seemed to stop making mistakes that ended up hurting Magnus. He hoped that this one would be easy enough to fix. With one hand, he fumbled to unlock his phone, and typed out a message.

hey i need ur help with sth. srry 2 ask i kno ur busy covering for me n uv loads already but. can u talk?

---

“Alec, I think I actually feel better today,” Magnus called as he shuffled out of his bedroom the next morning, his hair resembling a very stylish birds nest on top of his head. “I can breathe through my nose again! Why did I ever take it for granted? I will never not appreciate the hard work my nose does agai-”

He stopped, and his jaw dropped open. Alec smiled tentatively from where he sat in front of the bare pine tree he’d installed in the living room overnight.

Magnus’ eyes roamed the room, taking in the twinkling lights looped around the room, the tinsel on the railings of the balcony outside, the wreath of holly perched beside Alec on the coffee table. He brought one hand up to cover his mouth, his eyes wide.

“I hope you like it?” Alec said, standing and taking one hand in his. “I was looking for something in your apothecary yesterday and I found the christmas decorations you’d hidden in there, so I decided to surprise you.”

“And surprise me you have,” Magnus replied, his voice husky. “Did you do all of this by yourself? How?”

“I, uh. Might have had a little help. From some Christmas elves named Isabelle and Jace.” He admitted, sheepish. “Jace helped with the tree. Isabelle did the lights - that’s why they look so good, I would have had no clue.”

Magnus laughed, his face creasing up and his cheeks rounding, turning his eyes into happy half-moons. “Okay, that makes sense. I was wondering when you acquired a taste for interior decor. But why is the tree bare?”

“I thought we could do that bit together?” Alec replied, stroking one thumb over Magnus’ knuckles. “Sort of...start a new tradition, just you and I.”

Magnus’ eyes were dark and soft. “Alexander...I would love that. But… I hate to ask and possibly spoil this beautiful moment, but you didn’t seem all that enthused about celebrating Christmas last time we spoke about it? What changed?”

Alec pushed a hand through his hair and sighed. “You did. I figured that it must be important to you if you had all this stuff, and what’s important to you is important to me, Magnus. Christmas isn’t my thing, but maybe that’s just because I’ve never tried it before. I’ve tried a lot of new things with you, and I’ve loved every one. I can’t see that this will be any different. And I want us to make traditions and memories together. Nothing makes me happier.”

“Alexander...darling,” Magnus reached out to pull Alec’s face down to him, capturing his lips in a searing kiss. Alec opened up to Magnus’ tongue urgently. His tongue stroked against Magnus’, the slick glide of their mouths against each others’ recalling something more primal. When Magnus pulls away, he does so with one last little bite at the bottom of Alec’s pout. ”Thank you for doing this for me, Alexander. I can’t tell you what it means that you love me like this.”

Alec nuzzled a little into the side of Magnus’ face. “I’d do anything to make you smile, you know? I just -” and he pulled away a little. “Magnus, I get why you didn’t say anything about the decorations, or Christmas generally, but I need you tell me when something is important to you, okay? I don’t always get things right but I definitely never will if you’re not honest with me about what you want.”

The rising sun outside cast a shadow of Magnus’ lashes onto his cheek as he glanced down. “I know, and I’m sorry. I… I still fall back on bad habits, sometimes. Feeling like my emotions or my needs are too… much. Like I should keep them reigned in. But I promise I’m trying, my darling, and I have faith I’ll get there, with you.”

Alec smiled. “Thank you. As long as you’re trying, and I’m trying...we’ll muddle our way through things together.”

“As a wise man, once told me,” Magnus leant in to whisper the words against Alec’s mouth, “relationships take effort.”