#malecsanta18

[malecsecretsanta]

Merry Christmas, @royaltybane!

[prayformalec]

falling towards each other

I’m finally posting my secret santa fic on here! This was written for the lovely @intangibel. 

read on ao3

“Special Agent Alexander Lightwood, I presume?”

Alec watched with careful eyes as Magnus dropped from the rafters above, shadows hiding the beginning of his descent, ending with Alec feeling more than seeing him land elegantly in front of him. Despite how close they were, only a thin strip of light illuminated Magnus’ chest, leaving his eyes to glow in the darkness. Alec tried to ignore the flustered red he could feel traveling up his neck.

“Bane,” Alec nodded curtly. “Do you have the information we asked for?”

“I do.” God, even his voice. The tips of Alec’s ears burned.

He waited for Magnus to elaborate, but it quickly became obvious that he wasn’t going to say more.

Alec huffed impatiently. “We don’t have all day, Bane.”

The man chuckled, his smirk shaping the sound. “Are all Clave agents this rude or am I just lucky?”

“ Bane.”

“Okay, okay.” He held up his hands defensively, grin never faltering. Alec swallowed, hard. “It doesn’t hurt to have a little fun, you know.”

“Not when the lives of three million people are at stake.”

Magnus’ smile froze.

“Alexander, this relationship is never going to work if we’re not honest with each other.”

Alec’s jaw tightened, patience quickly waning. “I haven’t lied to you.”

Magnus started to laugh again but stopped when he saw the look on the agent’s face.

“You don’t know?”

“Don’t know what?”

“Three million?” He hissed, lips curling into a scowl. “You think only three million lives will be affected by Valentine’s terror?” Magnus finally stepped out of the shadows, eyes flashing dangerously. “Try three hundred million.”

Alec faltered, losing his cool demeanor for just a second, but Magnus immediately saw it. His expression hovered between stunned and terrified, and taking another step forward said, “You really didn’t know, did you?”

Alec stayed silent, jaw and fists clenched with the naive hope that Magnus hasn’t come to the same conclusion that he has.

“What else do you know? ” he finally said.

Lips pressed together, Magnus broke eye contact and looked at his fingers before tossing his head to the sky, seemingly exasperated, and yet--were those tears in his eyes?

“I can’t believe I didn’t put it together until now.”

That’s it. Alec closed the remaining space between them, wrapping his hand around Bane’s shirt and pressing him into the wall behind him.

“Stop fucking around Bane and tell me what you fucking know.”

Those were definitely tears. It didn’t stop Magnus from meeting Alec’s eyes, defiant yet panic-stricken, and Alec’s stomach turned. “The Clave isn’t looking for Valentine. They already have him, because he’s the one in charge and has been since the beginning.”

---

Magnus lets the rest of his martini slide down his throat, eyes resting on Alexander’s shoulders across the room. It had been three months since they last interacted, that night in the warehouse where they realized they had both been played. Alec had left suddenly, with no explanation, shortly after Magnus revealed that Valentine held more ground than they ever thought possible. Magnus was an optimistic person, naturally, but he had never felt so hopeless than he had in those immediate moments, alone and petrified of what was to come.

But then he got a call a week later informing him that the Clave had fallen, that Valentine was in custody of a third party, The Institute, and that 300 million lives had been inexplicitly saved seemingly by a miracle.

But Magnus knows better. He remembers the look in Alec’s eyes after he said 300 million. Alec hadn’t shifted his eyes and dropped his composure because he hadn’t known about it: he hadn’t known that Magnus also had that information

So now Magnus was here, following Alexander Lightwood through New York, trying to discover how a young agent was able to take down a secretive criminal operation within a week. There were worse ways to spend a weekend.

Leaving his glass behind, Magnus glides over to where Alec sat at the bar, a half-glass of gin resting between his hands and thoughts seeming to weigh heavy in his mind. Magnus notices his knees bouncing against the stool, slightly shaking the glass that he raises to his lips. It’s followed by a quick swipe of his tongue that Magnus can’t look away from, and only the sharp thud of the drink realigns his focus.

Magnus carefully leans against the counter, hand playing with his ear cuff. “Buy me a drink?”

Alec only glances at him before taking another swig. “You’ve already had three martinis since I’ve been here, you sure you want more?”

Magnus grins wildly, loving that Alexander had eyes on him the moment he walked into the bar. “Do you think I can’t hold my liquor, darling?”

Half of Alec’s smile is enough to daze Magnus for a second, and he can’t help but follow Alec’s finger as he lifts it to the bartender.

“So,” Alec empties his glass to let the bartender refill it, “Why have you been following me, Magnus?”

“Who says I have?”

Alec rolls his head to Magnus, criticism in his eyes. “You’re not as good as you think you are.”

“Maybe I wanted you to know.”

A small chuckle escapes Alec, and he simply lifts his glass in cheers. Magnus hides his grin as he tilts his drink to meet Alec’s.

“I haven’t heard from the Clave for a while.”

Alec hums.

“Was wondering why that is, I figured you would know.”

Alec shakes his head, “I’m not here to talk work. I’m retired.”

Magnus’ eyes flash, not unlike how they did in that warehouse, and Alec’s gaze locks onto them.

“Well that’s the best news I’ve heard all night,” Magnus hides a smile behind his martini. “Though I’m surprised the Clave let you go.”

Alec shoots him an inquiring look but casually says, “The Clave has been rid of me for years now.”

“Oh?” Magnus says just as casually. He likes this energy with Alec, fun and flirty and relaxed in a way he hasn’t allowed himself to be in a while. “I’ve changed my mind, this is the best news I’ve heard all night.”

That makes Alec laugh again so Magnus joins him, enjoying the way the sounds bounce of each other, and Magnus realizes he wants to hear it again. Suddenly, Alec’s gaze blatantly drops to Magnus’ lips and it takes all of Magnus’ willpower to not kiss him, already leaning forward before he realizes what he’s doing but he doesn’t want to stop. Their eyes meet, and Alec smiles.

“You were really instrumental in the whole thing, you know.” Alec states and Magnus tilts his head.

“I didn’t actually give you any new information. You knew of Valentine’s influence the whole time.”

“Not the whole time,” Alec cuts in quietly, and Magnus hears the history behind it. He doesn’t press. Alec continues, “But we thought we were the only ones that knew just how dangerous Valentine was. You obviously were well aware of the full extent of things, so we realized we had a mole. And that mole led us straight to Valentine.”

“Well then,” Magnus raises his glass, “Looks like we have something to celebrate. Better late than never.” Alec smiles and looks younger as he lifts his drink for another cheer.

“And no one better to celebrate with,” Magnus adds with a wink, and Alec feels the rush of red creep up his neck again but says “I agree” with a smirk, willing to spend the rest of the night getting lost in Magnus’ eyes.

---

Magnus’ breath tickles the back of Alec’s ear as he regains consciousness. He’s effectively trapped, hooked between Magnus’ chin on his shoulder and leg between his thighs, chests rising and falling in tandem. Alec wraps an arm around Magnus’ back, jostling a small noise from him that Alec quickly attempts to soothe. Careful not to wake him any more than he already has, Alec lets Magnus’ head roll onto his shoulder as he resettles, pressing a kiss to his partner’s forehead. He tangles a hand through Magnus’ hair as he lets himself fall back asleep.

When he wakes up again Magnus is pressing kisses on his neck, tracing a hand across his chest.

“Good morning,” he says softly, his rough voice sending shivers down Alec’s spine. Alec turns his head slightly to kiss Magnus’ forehead, lips meeting next as Magnus tilts his head up. They kiss lazily, hands traveling along toned muscles and brushing messy hair. Magnus shivers when Alec places another kiss on his nose.

“It’s not supposed to feel like this, you know,” Magnus whispers, thumbs pressed against Alec’s hairline.

“I know,” Alec murmurs, “But I’m not complaining.”

Magnus lets out a breathy laugh, and Alec’s eyes shine. “Neither am I, darling.”

Alec takes a few moments to tuck a strand of hair behind Magnus’ ear, trailing fingers along his jawline. His thumb finds Magnus’ lips. “I do have to get up soon.”

“Understandable, but know that I am in strong opposition.”

Alec giggles and Magnus stores it away as part of his ever-growing list of sounds he wants to hear Alexander create every day. One last kiss falls onto Magnus’ lips as Alec rolls out of bed, and Magnus can only groan.

“I could hate you for this,” he mutters, still underneath the covers. Alec leans forward, bracing himself with his hands to bring his face right up against Magnus’.

“Could you, though?” Alec asks with his bottom lip between his teeth and Magnus thanks the stars that he doesn’t have to stop himself from capturing Alec’s mouth with his own.

“Never,” Magnus swears, and Alexander’s responding smile is only rivaled by the rising sun spilling into the room.  

[intangibel]

idk if you’ve already seen but i was your secret santa! i really hope you enjoyed it, i had a great time writing it and i even hope to add a few things 👀 i hope you have a wonderful holiday season and a happy new year!

Hi lovely, thank you so so much I adore it!!!!

I am completely in love with it, Double Agent Alec and epic Magnus - everything about it is so awesome 🥰 I’d absolutely love to see more of that universe but it is also 100% perfect the way it is.

Thank you for being such a wonderful Secret Santa 😘💖 hope you had a wonderful holiday season too and sending lots of love for an amazing start to 2019 too xox

[malecsecretsanta]

Merry Christmas, @lutavero!

Merry Christmas Vera! The prompt I picked from your selection was “shapeshifting” because I have a terrible sense of humour and this is what I immediately though of and had to write 20,000 words about. If there’s one thing I know about myself, it’s that I overwrite. But when a good prompt comes along that ties into your love of magical realism, sometimes I just gotta go for it. I hope you like this!

fic summary: Okay, so turning into a talking cat isn’t exactly step one in Magnus’ plan to woo the Hot Law Student who delivers his takeout, but sometimes you just have to make do.

*****

An Idiot’s Guide to Magical Transfiguration | malec | chapter ½ | magical hijinks, shapeshifting, fluff, humour

“Alexander, your face is telling me you’ve never seen a talking cat before.”

Alec yelps - and that’s a sound Magnus is sure Alec has never made before in his life - but he doesn’t drop the small black cat he’s holding.

The small black cat that, through a series of highly unfortunate but explainable circumstances, is … well, Magnus.

“You can talk!” Alec exclaims. Magnus narrows his eyes, his tail lashing against up against Alec’s forearms.

“And a great many other things too, I should imagine,” Magnus replies. He taps his paw against Alec’s wrist, and it makes Alec jolt again. Magnus rolls his eyes and turns his attention pointedly to the plastic bag on the floor, woefully abandoned by Alec when he stepped through the door the moment Magnus’ magic decided it would be a hilarious prank to turn him into an animal against his wishes.

“Is that my takeout or not?” he asks. Alec’s attention snaps to the ground, the few cartons of Chinese food spilling out of the cheap plastic bag behind him. The air is beginning to smell like egg fried rice and satay chicken. Magnus’ nose twitches.

“I, uh - “ Alec begins, slowly looking back at Magnus in his hands. “Oh my God …”

His eyes are almost blown black by his pupils, wide and bewildered. There’s a scowl forming in his brow, and his mouth falls open as he trails off with no words to fill the silence.

Magnus sighs.

“Put me down, at least,” he says, flicking his tail again. “This is not how I prefer to be man-handled.”

Alec is far too quick to let Magnus go, dropping him to the ground like he’s a sack of bricks and someone’s just struck Alec in the kneecaps. At least cats do always land on their feet. Magnus’ fur bristles, but he makes a deliberate show of stretching out his back legs and pressing down on his front paws.

Alec doesn’t move. He probably can’t move. Great.

Okay, so turning into a talking cat isn’t exactly step one in Magnus’ plan to woo the Hot Law Student who delivers his takeout on a Friday night, but sometimes you just have to roll with the punches. Never let it be said that Magnus Bane isn’t good at salvaging a bad situation.

read more on ao3

[malecsecretsanta]

The Malec Secret Santa 2018 Big Reveal Post

Ho Ho Ho!

It’s time to conclude the third edition of the Malec Secret Santa :) 

Hope you’ve all had a lovely Christmas and that you’ve enjoyed all the amazing gifts that were posted! 

This year was considerably more easy to organise than last year, so thanks for not giving me too much stress, it’s much appreciated haha!

The fantastic @makosmonkey, @sandalwoodmalecs and @lutavero deserve extra love and gratitude for being wonderful Christmas Angels this year in helping me out to create last minute gifts, making sure no one would be left empty handed this year! Thank you darlings, I really appreciate that you wanted to help me out in a pinch! <333

If you’d like, you can still add your works to the AO3 Collection! Just poke me if you do, and I’ll add the link to the Tumblr gift post as well. You can also repost your gift(s) to your own Tumblrs now, of course :)

That’s all from me in terms of service announcements, see you all again next year! #MalecForever y’all.

-x- Leonie (leetje)

*****

Are you all ready to find out who your secret santas were? :D

Most of you should know the drill by now. The list is in alphabetical order. The easiest way to find whom your secret santa was, is by hitting Crl+F and then search for your own Tumblr name :D

134340knj was ninwrites' secret santa - gift(s) here

alecgfightwood was hisa-ai's secret santa - gift(s) here

Alexandergideontrueblood was alecgfightwood's secret santa - gift(s) here

astudyinfic was Lightwoodbanemlm's secret santa - gift(s) here

beyondthehunt was 134340knj's secret santa - gift(s) here

bloodboneandmuscle was hotaruyuki's secret santa - gift(s) here

carmenlire was prayformalec's secret santa - gift(s) here

Codeblackglitter was followmetopromiseland's secret santa - gift(s) here

Dark-alice-lilith was golden-queen-writes' secret santa - gift(s) here

demigod-daughter-of-poseidon was thattrainssailed's secret santa - gift(s) here

Dramaa-llama was Saenda's secret santa - gift(s) here

fatilightwood was forensicsisabelle's secret santa - gift(s) here

floralegia was Taupefox59's secret santa - gift(s) here

followmetopromiseland was bloodspeckledraphael's secret santa - gift(s) here

forensicsisabelle was sarcasticlightwood's secret santa - gift(s) here

golden-queen-writes was onefootintheboilinghotlava's secret santa - gift(s) here

greentealycheejelly was bloodboneandmuscle's secret santa - gift(s) here

GyoroandUrurun was the-prophet-lemonade's secret santa - gift(s) here

hanukkahmagnus was majo3108's secret santa - gift(s) here

hisa-ai was jim-is-spocks-thyla's secret santa - gift(s) here

hotaruyuki was katwriting's secret santa - gift(s) here

hourglassmermaid  was greentealycheejelly's secret santa - gift(s) here

i-own-loki was raewrites98's secret santa - gift(s) here

Intangibel was Parabitri's secret santa - gift(s) here

Ithinkimightbelost925 was Dramaa-llama's secret santa - gift(s) here

jim-is-spocks-thyla was Ksgsworld's secret santa - gift(s) here

katwriting was mirrorofliterature's secret santa - gift(s) here

komhmagnus was lunarosewood23's secret santa - gift(s) here

Ksgsworld was Dark-alice-lilith's secret santa - gift(s) here

la-muerta was wolfspirals' secret santa - gift(s) here

ladymatt was demigod-daughter-of-poseidon's secret santa - gift(s) here

Lakritzwolf was i-own-loki's secret santa - gift(s) here

Lauracg09 was Onceuponavideo secret santa - gift(s) here

leetje was carmenlire's secret santa - gift(s) here

leetje was onthecyberseas' secret santa - gift(s) here

Lightwoodbanemlm was fatilightwood's secret santa - gift(s) here

lunarosewood23 was djchika's secret santa - gift(s) here

lutavero was magnusbaneismyultimatebae's secret santa - gift(s) here

lutavero was royaltybane's secret santa - gift(s) here

lynne-monstr was Codeblackglitter's secret santa - gift(s) here

magicmagnus was lynne-monstr's secret santa - gift(s) here

magnusandalexander was lakritzwolf's secret santa - gift(s) here

magnusbaneismyultimatebae was notcrypticbutcoy's secret santa - gift(s) here

magnuslightwoodbane was shipnotised's secret santa - gift(s) here

majo3108 was hanukkahmagnus' secret santa - gift(s) here

Makosmonkey was komhmagnus' secret santa - gift(s) here

Makosmonkey was the-burning-tiger's secret santa - gift(s) here

malec-on-broadway was notamanamachine's secret santa - gift(s) here

milominderbindered was magicmagnus' secret santa - gift(s) here

mirrorofliterature was sandalwoodmalecs' secret santa - gift(s) here

ninwrites was The-roci's secret santa - gift(s) here

nostalgiafan123 was milominderbindered's secret santa - gift(s) here

notamanamachine was xskullgirl808's secret santa - gift(s) here

notcrypticbutcoy was leetje's secret santa - gift(s) here

Onceuponavideo was ithinkimightbelost925's secret santa - gift(s) here

onefootintheboilinghotlava was hourglassmermaid's secret santa - gift(s) here

onthecyberseas was Lauracg09's secret santa - gift(s) here

parabitri was magnusandalexander's secret santa - gift(s) here

prayformalec was intangibel's secret santa - gift(s) here

raewrites98 was saramoonwolf's secret santa - gift(s) here

royaltybane was giinevraweaslley secret santa - gift(s) here

Saenda was nostalgiafan123's secret santa - gift(s) here

sandalwoodmalecs was astudyinfic's secret santa - gift(s) here

sandalwoodmalecs was magnuslightwoodbane's secret santa - gift(s) here

Saramoonwolf was obsidiayan secret santa - gift(s) here

Sarcasticlightwood was Makosmonkey's secret santa - gift(s) here

Shipnotised was Alexandergideontrueblood's secret santa - gift(s) here

Sian265 was ladymatt's secret santa - gift(s) here

Taupefox59 was floralegia's secret santa - gift(s) here

thattrainssailed was beyondthehunt's secret santa - gift(s) here

The-burning-tiger was GyoroandUrurun's secret santa - gift(s) here

the-crownless-queen was VOlympianlove's secret santa - gift(s) here

the-prophet-lemonade was lutavero's secret santa - gift(s) here

The-roci was the-crownless-queen's secret santa - gift(s) here

VOlympianlove was malec-on-broadway's secret santa - gift(s) here

wolfspirals was Sian265's secret santa - gift(s) here

xskullgirl808 was la-muerta's secret santa - gift(s) here

Let me know if I mucked up any names/html or if you’re missing entirely. I kind of zoned out a few times while coding this list 8-)

Go forth and tacklehug your no-longer-secret santa! They definitely deserve some loving!

[malecsecretsanta]

Merry Christmas, @Codeblackglitter!

For @codeblackglitter – Merry Christmas and Happy Holidays! Thanks for giving me some really great ideas to work with. I had a lot of fun writing this, and I hope you enjoy it, too! 

Read on AO3

*****

Something in the Air (makes you do strange things)

i.

“Do you trust me, Alexander?”

Alec shut his book, marking his place with his thumb before glancing up.

Across the room, Magnus was ensconced behind his potions desk, surrounded by a veritable army of bottles in various shapes and sizes, each filled with brightly colored liquid. Large, ornate bowls simmered over magically conjured fires, letting off puffs of steam at irregular intervals.

Alec’s thoughts tripped to a halt, caught on the ripples of evening light dancing across Magnus’ exposed forearms beneath rolled-up sleeves. At the way his fingers constantly moved, even at rest. When his mind finally caught up, he set aside his book entirely.

Did Magnus really not know? 

Shaking his head, he gave a soft smile, the kind Magnus always seemed to draw from him. “I trust you with everything.” 

He could count on one hand the number of people he let see past his walls, and within forty-eight hours of their first meeting, the High Warlock of Brooklyn had become part of that group. Alec could still remember their first night together. That vivid sense of feeling stripped bare, yet conversely, more in control of his life than he’d ever felt. When he finally fell asleep—alone, exhausted, and unarmed in a strange Downworlder’s home—he never doubted he was in safe hands.

That sense of safety lived so deep in his bones it could no longer be separated from the rest of him.

Safety. Love. Sex. Trust. All the things he never thought he could have, now such an intricate part of his life he couldn’t imagine living without them. The knowledge was as unyielding as the color of a freshly applied rune or the exact angle of his bow in motion.

“Well,” Magnus said, breaking Alec from his thoughts. “You may not after you hear my request.” He fiddled with his earcuff, a simple black one that matched the thick lines around his eyes.

Alec shook his head. They had variations of this conversation before, and experience taught him that the best tactic was to keep pressing his point.

“What do you need?” Alec asked. “I can’t give it to you if you don’t tell me.”

Magnus swallowed hard and left his workspace, plucking an object from his desk as he went. The setting sun glinted off the honed edge of a blade, throwing lines of yellow across the floor and furniture. The matching glow of Magnus’ eyes, however, had nothing to do with the golden hour.

Most people might be scared at the sight he made. The most powerful warlock in New York gracefully stalking across the room in fluid, unbroken movements. Wisps of magic lingered around one hand while the other gripped the knife with the ease of longtime use.

Alec’s breath caught, and he shifted in place on the couch. The only concern he felt was that despite the trappings of his power, Magnus was clearly uncomfortable.

The last few steps brought him between Alec’s legs, where he came to a halt. Without thinking, Alec spread them wider, reeling him in with hands at the back of his strong thighs.

“I need a vial of your blood,” Magnus said. His gaze was focused somewhere over Alec’s shoulder. “Not for anything untoward,” he added quickly.

Well then. That explained the knife. And the uncharacteristic hesitance.

Every young Shadowhunter was drilled about the importance of never giving such consent, even under torture. Blood freely given was a weapon. Powerful and versatile. It was a skeleton key to the vilest magics in existence. Mind control, possession, resurrection, and more curses than he could count. Not to mention its aid in getting through an institute’s wards. There were dozens of other usages, each one straight out of a nightmare.

“Hey, look at me,” Alec said, waiting until those beautiful eyes focused on him. He unhooked an arm from around Magnus’ leg, holding it out and up as if in offering. “It’s okay. Take what you need.”

Magnus’ eyes grew wide. “Don’t you want to know why?”

Alec wrapped fingers around the arm holding the knife, and slowly brought the sharp edge to rest against the skin of his forearm. The metal was cold, but he didn’t flinch.

“I’m not worried, if that’s what you’re asking,” Alec said. “You’d never hurt me, Magnus. You’d never use that power against me.”

Magnus squeezed his eyes shut. “I’d rather die.”

“I know.” The silence hung heavy between them as Alec bent to place a kiss against Magnus’ wrist, still holding the knife. “If you say you need it, then you need it.”

He’d already given Magnus his heart and his body and his love. There was nothing of him that was off limits, nothing he wouldn’t share freely with the man before him.

Magnus’ face slackened in surprise, but he recovered quickly.

“There’s a little girl,” he said, shadows in his eyes. “A young warlock with a rare disease not seen in centuries. The strength of Nephilim blood is the only thing that can give the potion I’m brewing enough of a boost to cure her. It’s a long shot but nothing else has worked.”

“Magnus.” Alec tugged at Magnus’ wrist until he lowered himself to his knees between Alec’s legs, bringing them face-to-face. “I already said yes. Go save your people.”

Magnus leaned forward, pressing his forehead to Alec’s and whispering a soft, “Thank you.”

After that, it was almost anticlimactic. Magnus wielded the knife with the dexterity of an expert, and Alec was used to far more serious injuries. It was over in an instant.

Banishing the tiny vial, Magnus threw himself back into his work. When the potion was ready several days later, he whisked them off to a large house in Queens. The warlocks embraced Magnus but gave Alec skeptical looks.

Magnus hushed their protests with a wave of his hand. “Not to worry. This is Alexander. He’s one of the good ones.”

Alec wasn’t sure he deserved that endorsement, or even to be there, but Magnus insisted with a firm, “You should be here, you had a hand in this, too.” With a smile, he patted Alec’s jacket at the precise point the knife had rested. “Or more precisely, an arm.”

The warlocks let them pass, and Alec got to witness a very sick little girl regaining her health. He watched with a careful eye, ready to jump in and offer his strength if needed.

Her smile was something he would carry in his heart for a long time. A reminder that for all the loss, there was also good in their world.

Afterwards, he didn’t quite know what to say. Everything seemed inadequate, so he settled on, “Thank you for taking me with you. For showing me that.”

Magnus took both his hands and squeezed. “You did that. Your blood, the gift you gave that little girl.”

Alec brought their joined hands to his lips, brushing a kiss against Magnus’ knuckles. “You did that,” he corrected. “I was just ingredients.”

Because it was true. Alec gave his blood, but it was Magnus who transformed it into a cure for a sick child. It was Magnus who stayed up night after night, hands shaking from fatigue, eyes bloodshot, refusing to rest until the work was done. There wasn’t a day that went by when Alec wasn’t amazed at what his boyfriend could do, at how much he cared and how he worked himself to exhaustion for anyone who needed it.

“Oh Alexander, don’t you see? Do you know how many Nephilim would willingly give their blood to a warlock to save a Downworlder? But you didn’t hesitate. You didn’t even need to think it over.”

“Anyone would have done the same,” Alec protested.

Magnus shook his head, a sad smile tugging at his lips. “No,” he said, eyes heavy with memories as he untangled their hands to cup Alec’s cheek. “They wouldn’t. They didn’t.”

Alec didn’t know how to convince him he’d always be there. Always by Magnus’ side in whatever capacity he was needed. That it would be the two of them, together, for as long as Magnus would have him.

He did the next best thing, and leaned in to seal their lips together, trying to put into actions everything that Magnus wouldn’t yet accept from him in words.

--

 ii.

“Trust me,” Alec said, grabbing his bow. “This will work.”

Isabelle looked like she wanted to say something but with a shake of her head, took a silent step back, willing to follow his lead.

Not for the first time, Alec’s heart swelled with the love and care she always gave him. Isabelle was a fierce woman and he was lucky to have her in his life and on his side.

Neither did Jace look convinced, but with a nod, he clasped the bow in the same spot as Alec.

Events of the past several months had tested their bond, but they were still siblings and Parabatai, two souls united against the world. The confidence Alec felt—the certainly that this would work—was unwavering, and something of that must’ve filtered into Jace as well.

The power of the Parabatai tracking ritual thickened the air around them. Held tightly between their palms, the bow Alec favored began to hum with energy.

Alec met Jace’s eyes as the tracking took hold, but his thoughts were a world away. Not that he needed to strain himself to bend his mind towards Magnus. The memories rushed over him like the familiar wash of the tide coming home.

Magnus deep in concentration, hands flowing effortlessly across tiny bottles of spell ingredients as he worked his magic. Biting at his lip when he was unsure and trying to hide it. Head thrown back in the midst of pleasure, throat bared and mouth open in a silent shout as his entire body arched off the bed. Half asleep on the couch and nuzzling his face into Alec’s neck to chase the warmth of his skin.

A location formed in the front of Alec’s mind, hazy at first and then razor sharp, as if it had always been there. Opening his eyes, he saw the same knowledge reflected in Jace’s gaze.

They unclasped their hands.

“We know where he is,” Alec announced. As if the determined look on his face wasn’t announcement enough.

“That was…intense,” Jace said, visibly shaking himself off.” His eyes studied Alec as he continued. “More than usual. You okay?”

Isabelle gave Alec a pat on the shoulder as the three of them moved towards the Institute’s main exit. “I don’t see why you’re so surprised. Alec is intense on a good day, and now that Magnus is missing, well…” she trailed off, letting the sentence hang in the air.

Alec shrugged, unwilling to get into it when he had more important matters at hand. And it’s not like she was wrong.

Magnus should’ve been home days ago. No one knew where he was, and his phone went straight to voicemail. The last Alec heard, he was helping smooth over rising tensions within the vampire community, acting as an impartial, trusted third party. According to local gossip, there was a new clan in town and frictions were high.

Alec knew Magnus could handle himself, but that didn’t stop the worry that gnawed relentlessly at his mind, working its way steadily deeper until it was all he could think about. He had thrown more of himself into the tracking spell than usual.

Activating his speed rune, he watched from the corner of his eye as his siblings followed suit. And then they were off, sprinting through the city towards Long Island City and Magnus.

“Care to explain how that tracking even worked?” Jace asked as they ran.

Despite his nerves, Alec smiled. “Remember Izzy’s trial?” he said. “Magnus agreed to act as counsel, and the payment we agreed on was my bow and quiver.”

“He what!” Isabelle nearly missed a step in her surprise. Her voice turned serious. “Alec, you never said. I know how much those weapons mean to you.”

“So did he, I bet,” Jace chimed in with a scowl.

“He had every right to ask for it.” Alec shot back, the metal of the Queensboro Bridge clanging beneath their feet with every step. Beneath them, the East River was an inky ribbon winding through the evening darkness. “He would’ve been well within his right to ask for more.”

Probably best not to mention that he’d initially asked for Alec himself. Though looking back, it was clear that was never a demand meant to be taken seriously. Regardless of his quick temper, Magnus was the kindest person Alec knew. He would never have demanded that of him as the price for saving his sister, not if Alec truly didn’t want to give it.

“But you were never without it,” Isabelle said, interrupting his thoughts. “After the trial, you were still using the same bow.”

Alec smiled, despite the bittersweet memories of that time. “He gave it right back. Told me to hold on to it for him.”

Jace bumped their shoulders together as the three of them ran in perfect unison. It was either silent support or an apology for his earlier judging words. Alec couldn’t tell but he appreciated it nonetheless.

“So your bow belongs to Magnus,” Isabelle said with a laugh. “I knew you were a hopeless romantic.”

“Alright, that’s enough,” Alec said, not really meaning it. Growing up, he never in his wildest dreams thought there would come a day when his siblings would tease him about his boyfriend. It was an impossibility, right up until it wasn’t. Alec wouldn’t give it up for anything.

He wasn’t giving up Magnus either. Alec belonged to Magnus every bit as much as his bow. And Magnus belonged to him.

No matter what it took, Alec was going to bring him home.

They fell silent as they reached their destination, an abandoned glass factory that hadn’t yet been converted into high rises. The joking atmosphere between them turned serious.

It was time to get to work.

Later, after everything was settled—it turned out Magnus had been snatched by one of the vampire clans who thought the local High Warlock would be more effective as a hostage than a negotiator—Magnus turned to Alec and frowned.

“You shouldn’t have been able to find me. After that first time with the ruby, I enchanted my belongings against it. Not that I’m ungrateful to have my dashing Shadowhunter boyfriend swoop in to rescue me.”

“Not that you needed rescuing,” Alec said. He pressed a kiss to Magnus’ collarbone, the easiest place to reach from where he was laying atop his chest, both of them warm and safe in bed. “You had the whole lot of them hanging on your every word before I even showed up. You actually got them to sign a provisional peace treaty.”

Alec trailed a finger down bare skin, enjoying the feel of hard muscle under his hand. “I half expected the vampires to beg us to save them from you.”

“High Warlock,” Magnus replied, wiggling his eyebrows in a way that made him look slightly ridiculous. He captured Alec’s hand from his chest, placing a kiss on the forefinger. “Politics is part of the job. It’s not all flashy magic, you know. And you never answered my question. How did you find me?”

Alec laughed. “You didn’t enchant all your possessions. Remember my bow and quiver? Or should I say, your bow and quiver.” He pulled back, not wanting to miss the reaction his words were sure to evoke.

It was even better than expected.

Surprise etched itself across Magnus’ face and his mouth dropped into a tiny, adorable ‘oh.’ He recovered just as quickly, warmth melting away the shock like the first rays of spring.

“I forgot about that,” he said, the words as tender as his smile. He pulled Alec back down, until Alec’s head was once again tucked into the warmth of his neck.

Alec went willingly. More than willingly.

“I didn’t forget,” he replied, fitting his body to Magnus so there was no space between them.

They drifted off to sleep holding each other. It was Alec’s favorite way to end the day, and if he had anything to say about it, that wasn’t ever going to change.

--

 iii.

“Trust me,” Magnus said, pressing closer to Alec as they were surrounded by a small army of possessed mundanes. “Let them come closer.”

The heat of Magnus’ back against his own was a reassuring presence, the two of them circling in place even as they were herded further into the narrow alley.

One of the mundanes leaped forward, hands extended like claws. Alec swatted her away with the flat of his blade. With a hiss that wasn’t quite human, she fell back. It was only a temporary reprieve, the inhale before a piercing scream. 

Alec didn’t want to fight these people, but soon he would have little choice.

“Don’t hurt them.” Magnus echoed his thoughts, voice strained as the static of his magic crackled the night air. “I’m close, I just need to—”

He cut off as a hoard of the possessed descended on them at once.

Alec exploded into motion, jerking on Magnus’ elbow and spinning him towards where the herd was thinnest. Shielding him with his body, Alec pushed the attackers back, careful to only use non-fatal slices of his seraph blade. The pain made them cautious but wouldn’t keep them back for long.

“Alec darling, save the manhandling for later, if you would.” Rolling his wrists, Magnus summoned more power to his hands.

Alec snorted despite himself. “I’ll hold you to that once we’re home.”

“Promises, promises.”

There was no time to reply. For every person he knocked down, more came forward. From the corner of his eye, he could see Magnus throwing elbows and a few kicks of his own, even as the light gathered in his palms grew brighter. A burly man got past Alec’s guard, thick fingers curling around his neck and scratching at his eyes. Alec headbutted him. But as he did, another hand ripped his blade from his grip. It clattered to the ground, out of reach.

Desperate, he threw himself after it, using the momentum to dislodge his attackers. His head hit the concrete, dazing him just enough to slow his reactions. A middle-aged woman in bright workout clothes pounced on him.

A blast of angry red magic hit her chest, knocking her back. It startled the rest, buying him a temporary reprieve.

Alec leaped to his feet, giving up the weapon as a lost cause and letting his training take over. He fought for what felt like forever, losing himself in the rhythm of kicks and punches. Occasionally, Magnus blasted the stragglers before going back to whatever miracle spell was building between his hands.

But Alec could see he was faltering. They both were.

“I can’t hold them off forever,” Alec shouted between punches.

Just as he began to despair, Magnus shouted, “Now! Close your eyes, Alec.”

Alec’s body reacted on instinct, his absolute trust in Magnus guiding his movements. It left him open. Blinded and undefended—completely vulnerable if whatever Magnus planned didn’t work.

He braced himself for it. An attack, a punch, fingernails and teeth tearing into his skin.

Nothing came. The sound of bodies hitting the ground sounded in his ears, but Alec didn’t dare look. Finally, there was silence, save for the rumble of garbage trucks along a nearby street.

“It’s over.”

Magnus sounded tired, and Alec half expected him to be on the floor when he opened his eyes.

He wasn’t. His back was straight, stance slightly wider than normal. The magic had dissipated into the air save for the remnants clinging to the edge of his form. He cut a powerful figure, one that not even the exhaustion hovering around the creases in his eyes could dim.

Standing tall and wreathed in his own power, it was hard to believe he was real.

Unfortunately, Alec had more mundane matters to take care of than staring at his boyfriend. Literally mundane, in this case. Surrounding them was a circle of collapsed men and women, and he had a job to do.

He rushed over to the fallen mundane closest to him, a young man in an expensive business suit. Two fingers placed just above the collar released the knot of tension between Alec’s shoulders. The pulse was strong and steady. He checked the rest and, when the last was done, slumped in relief.

“They’re alive,” Magnus confirmed. “I took their most recent memories in the same spell that cured them. As far as they’re concerned, they got caught up with gangs on PCP.”

Alec nodded. “I’ll call Luke and he can deal with the mundane police.” From the corner of his eye, he saw Magnus sway on his feet. Quickly, he stood, making his way over and getting his shoulder under Magnus’ arm.

“I can stand on my own.” Despite the words, Magnus made no move to extricate himself.

“Maybe I just want to feel up my boyfriend,” Alec responded with a smile, wrapping a hand snug around Magnus’ waist.

“Well, in that case, proceed.” Magnus gave an airy gesture, letting himself lean into the support Alec offered.

Alec gripped his waist tighter, relived to have the solid weight of him pressed up against his side.

He was accustomed to fighting alongside the people he loved, staying focused when they were in danger. Years of patrols with his siblings had drilled the constant threat into his mind, the knowledge that one of them could fall at any moment. It was something he tried not to think about, and was generally successful at it.

It was different with Magnus.

Alec hadn’t spent over a decade training his mind and body to accept Magnus being in danger as a mere fact of life. He wondered if that primal fear was what Magnus felt every time Alec walked out of their home towards the Institute.

Placing a kiss to Magnus’ temple, Alec closed his eyes and breathed in the familiar scent of the man he loved. Warmth curled in his chest when Magnus dropped his head to rest on his shoulder, letting Alec take more of his weight.

“Come on,” he said, gently, leading Magnus to one of the nearby storefront benches. “We can wait for Luke here.”

“I’m perfectly fine,” Magnus mumbled into his neck with a yawn. “Maybe just a little tired,” he conceded, as Alec maneuvered them into sitting.

“That was an impressive piece of magic you did.”

Magnus preened. “It wasn’t fully finished. I had to improvise a little at the end.”

Alec brushed a stray spike of hair from where it had fallen in front of his face. “Showoff.”

“It wouldn’t have worked if you didn’t keep most of them away from me. Thank you, Alexander. I know I didn’t give you much to go on.” Magnus grew visibly tired, until the words were no more than a mumble at the end.

The spell must have taken a lot of out of him because he didn’t complain when Alec coaxed him into lying across the bench, his head cradled in Alec’s lap. After a moment, Alec carded tentative fingers through the longer hair at the top of his head. Magnus could be touchy about having it messed up in public, but when he didn’t protest, Alec continued.

A little groan escaped Magnus’ lips, his eyes falling shut as Alec shifted to massaging the base of his skull. He let his fingers wander, tracing the lines of his eyebrows and trailing up and down his cheekbones. Without his usual defenses and extravagant gestures, he looked painfully young, a far cry from the centuries-old powerhouse and warlock leader he truly was.

Staring down into his relaxed face, Alec couldn’t help feeling a little floored.

Magnus was independent, often to a fault, preferring to look after himself under any and all circumstances. But here he was, practically asleep in a magically exhausted state on a New York City street. Letting Alec stand between himself and the world.

Alec would die before he let anyone touch him.

Eventually, the sound of approaching sirens reached his ears and he gently shook Magnus’ shoulder. They were both standing by the time Luke arrived on the scene with a handful of his officers.

Confident that the situation was in good hands, Magnus summoned a portal for them both. By unspoken agreement, any post-mission briefings would wait until tomorrow.

Hand-in hand, they stepped through the portal and into their home.

--

 iv.

“Magnus, trust me. I want this.” The words were hardly real, even to Alec’s own ears.

He had spelled out his entire plan, his research, everything. He spoke until his voice felt flat and scratchy. Now that it was done, he shifted in place, needing an outlet for the excess energy.

But Magnus only stared.

The silence stretched thin, the air between them cracked and brittle.

Alec was adept at reading the nuances in his boyfriend’s expressions but now those familiar features may as well been carved from stone. He could feel the exact moment his world dropped out beneath him. Swallowing the lump in his throat, he rocked backwards on the golden sheets of their bed.

“Please say something.” Each word felt forced from Alec's throat.

He spent so much time preparing, so many months soul-searching and charting every possible eventuality. He hadn’t planned that Magnus might say nothing at all.

A negative answer, sure. How could he not, after that first fiasco of a move-in discussion what felt like a lifetime ago. Eventually, they’d come to an understanding about how they each viewed the passage of time, and their relationship was stronger for it. Alec was so sure he wasn’t about to repeat past mistakes.

He hated being wrong.

“I’m afraid,” is what Magnus finally said.

Alec squinted at him. “What?”

Of all the responses he expected to his declaration of wanting to spend the rest of Magnus’ long life together, this wasn’t it.

Magnus swallowed, and Alec was momentarily distracted by the jut of his Adam’s apple as he explained.

“I’m scared that one day, maybe in a century, maybe four centuries, after your family and friends have all passed, that you’ll remember I’m the reason you’re stuck here without them.”

Magnus looked down at his hands, fingers reaching to fiddle with the rings he had already taken off in preparation for sleep. He paused, grasping at nothing until he finally clasped them together and placed them in his lap. “I don’t think I could live with myself if you looked at me like that.”

Alec choked back his instinctive denial.

It wouldn’t be fair to brush aside Magnus’ very real fears, even though he knew with a certainly aimed as true as his arrows, that those fears were wrong. The thought of living without his family was a white-hot poker seared into in his gut, but so was the thought of growing old and abandoning the love of his life to nothing but memories.

Alec couldn’t do anything about the lifespan of those he loved. He could only do something about his own.

He got to his knees on the soft mattress, shuffling forward to straddle Magnus’s lap where he sat against the headboard. Carefully, he wrapped both hands around the back of Magnus’ neck, using his thumbs to tilt his chin upwards.

Magnus let out a breath and allowed himself to be maneuvered.

Alec stroked the pad of his finger along the sharp cut of Magnus’ jaw. “I’ve thought about this, Magnus. So many times, you don’t even know. I understand what I’m committing to. I’m committing to you. Forever with you.”

Magnus squeezed his eyes shut like he was in actual pain.

When he opened them, they shone gold in wonder. “I wish I knew what I did to deserve you. I would keep doing it for the rest of my life.” He paused to bite at his lip. “But Alec, this is a big decision that can’t be undone. I need you to be sure.”

Alec pressed their foreheads together, mumbling against Magnus’ lips, “I’m sure about you.”

With a muffled cry, Magnus pressed forward, closing the slim distance between them.

Alec could taste the slightest tang of salt on his face as their lips moved together. He opened his mouth into the kiss, eagerly letting Magnus in. Magnus kissed like he wanted to devour Alec’s every word with his tongue, like he could sweep them directly from Alec’s lips into his own body and keep them safe in his heart for the rest of eternity.

Like if he didn’t, Alec might take them back.

Alec let him have it all, giving himself over to the kiss and giving Magnus everything he so desperately needed. His head spun, giddy with the thought of forever. This was only the beginning. He could see his future stretched out before him, bright and wondrous in the way he used to dream about, when he let himself imagine a fantasy world where things were different.

Except this was better. Magnus was real and warm beneath his hands, and Alec loved him with such a fire in his chest that he was surprised the whole world couldn’t see him burning.

When it was over, they stayed pressed up tight, breathing each other in as their racing heartbeats settled and the urge to gasp for each drag of air had passed.

“Oh Alexander, do you know what you do to me when you say things like that.”

Alec nodded, taking Magnus’ hands into his own. “I’m going to say it every day.” Alec turned serious as he added, “Forever, if you want it.”

Magnus’ eyes shone bright. “I do.”

[malecsecretsanta]

Merry Christmas, @Parabitri!

This idea turned out to be far more angsty than anything I usually write but it insisted on being written. I love the way Magnus and Alec always find their way back to each other, no matter what universe you put them into.

This is their Hallmark-style Christmas Story - I hope you enjoy it!

Read on AO3

******

This Christmas

Chapter 1

I remember,

I wish I could forget

What you did last December

You left my heart a mess.

- Ariana Grande (& George Michael), Last Christmas

~ The Present: 22nd December 2018 ~

“Are you sure Alec won’t mind?” Magnus asked for what had to be the fourth time that morning as he followed Izzy inside the apartment she and Alec shared.

“When has Alec ever said no to you?” Izzy threw over her shoulder with a wink as she opened Alec’s bedroom door and sauntered in.

“Well, there was that whole morning after the Yule Ball fiasco,” Magnus muttered to himself, dragging his feet as he followed Izzy.

“Besides,” Izzy said as she flopped down on Alec’s bed apparently oblivious to Magnus’ dark comments, “You and I both know, Alec’s the only person who has an early enough edition of Gray’s Anatomy to feature the illustrations you need.”

“They’re too valuable for any libraries to stock before about the 18th edition,” Magnus agreed with a sigh as he approached Alec’s bookshelves brushing his fingers lightly over the soft leather spine, tracing the gilded letters which identified it as a hallowed second edition.

“You said you’ve tried every other option, Magnus, and your essay is due in tonight. It’s not like you can just call and ask him. Even if by some miracle he isn’t still in the remote mountain villages in Timor-Leste then he’ll be in transit. You know as well as I do that any time he gets funded flights it means he’s on a stopping all stations round the world tour of obscure airports. Even if you managed to get a message to him, there’s no guarantee he’d be able to get an answer back in time.”

“I know,” Magnus sighed easing the book gently out from between its neighbours and cradling it close to his chest. He wanted Alec home but he also half-dreaded the idea that the tension that had grown like a wedge between them might still be there. “Thank you, Isabelle. I guess I’d better go finish my essay. You’ll let me know if you hear from him?”

“Of course! Hopefully this time he’ll remember to let us know before he boards the last plane so we can meet him at the airport, I know Max is dying to use the latest sign he’s made.”

Magnus laughed, thinking of Max’s ever-expanding stack of ‘Welcome Home Alec’ signs. At this point, they’d need to bring everyone they knew in order to hold up even half of them.

~ * ~ * ~ * ~

[Throughout human history there have been many iterations of the symbol which represents the human heart. The first non-medical European illustration of the heart is thought to be a drawing accompanying the medieval French poem Le Roman De La Poire circa 1255 however it was not until the early 1500s that the familiar shape made its appearance...

...but why does this symbol bear so little resemblance to the human anatomy it represents? There are plenty of theories, the most prominent one being that most of our ‘knowledge’ of human anatomy in the 13th and 14th centuries was based on animal biology, in particular reptiles, which much more closely resemble the familiar scalloped shape of the heart icon. The ability of early physicians to view or study the human body was fiercely regulated and controlled - with many unable to view a single dissection let alone partake in the kind of labs that are a standard part of modern medical tuition. As such, Henry Gray’s seminal work Gray’s Anatomy, first published in 1858, was a turning point in the depiction of the human heart…]

Magnus' fingers stilled on his keyboard as he glanced again at the book he’d brought back to his apartment almost four hours earlier. It was ridiculous but he still hadn’t opened it. The thing was, he hadn’t told Izzy the whole truth. Yes, this essay was for his History of Medicine subject and accounted for almost a third of his grade but it was also final piece of his application to join Médecins Sans Frontières’ new project, working in the new hospital Alec had spent the past year helping local engineers design and build. Alec would be going back for another whole year to support the development of sustainable water supply for the school and the rest of the village. Following your best friend halfway around the world was madness, especially when things had never been quite the same between them since last year’s Yule Ball.

~ Morning After the Yule Balle: 19th December 2017 ~

Magnus came to slowly, groaning as he peeled gritty eyes open just long enough to take in the couch and apartment around him before squeezing them shut again. It wasn’t the first time since becoming friends with the Lightwoods three years earlier that he’d woken up on their sofa but the blinding headache was new. So was the fact that he couldn’t for the life of him remember how he’d gotten back here. He barely remembered any of the Yule Ball. Burying his head further in the soft pillows Magnus vowed never to mix first-generation antihistamines and alcohol again.  

“Breakfast?”

Magnus’ eyes snapped open his lips curling at the corners as he took in the sight of Alec setting a breakfast tray on the coffee table beside him. The man really was an angel sometimes.

“I figured you’d need something to help wash down the aspirin,” Alec said, smiling back as he reached over and placed two pills on Magnus’ palm, following it with a glass of water.

“My hero,” Magnus said, downing the tablets and finally tearing his eyes from Alec and focusing on the food in front of him. “You made me blueberry pancakes, Alexander? That’s not exactly standard hangover fare. If you were anyone else I’d think you were trying to seduce me with your culinary skills.”

Magnus grinned at the way Alec’s cheeks heated at the suggestion and he became suddenly fascinated with his boots. Whatever the cause, Magnus wasn’t complaining - in fact, he almost moaned as he took that first blissful bite of pancake. Alec really would make an excellent husband to someone one of these days. Too bad there wasn’t any handy mistletoe or he might...Magnus’ thoughts ground to a sudden halt as he suddenly remembered kissing someone under the mistletoe last night at the ball. It hadn’t been a typical crappy holiday season hook-up either, it had been incredible. He found himself describing it to Alec as he ate: the way her lips had felt against his, passionate and wild yet somehow also tender as if she couldn’t decide whether she wanted to devour Magnus or worship him. The way her fingers had tightened in his hair, tugging roughly to adjust the angle of his head, deepening the kiss, only for those same clever fingers to send shivers of pure pleasure as they massaged away any last traces of pain. The worst part was, despite remembering every tiny detail of the kiss, he had no memory of the person who’d done the kissing.

“Please Alec, you were there last night you have to help me find her!” Magnus said, looking up beseechingly at his best friend only to realise something was wrong.

At some point during his monologue, the blushing, solicitous angel who’d made him breakfast had been replaced by a stone statue.

“You remember the kiss but don’t remember the-the-the person, at all?” Alec asked harshly his fists clenching at his sides.

Magnus flinched, feeling suddenly ashamed even though he didn’t know why it was such a big deal to Alec if Magnus’ memory had decided to defy logic. Before he’d had a chance to ask, Alec had turned away, his shoulders tense as he’d gathered up the remnants of Magnus’ now cold breakfast.

Tray in hand he’d barely looked at Magnus as he’d apologised, “I can’t do this, Magnus. I-I-I thought -” Alec sighed sounding frustrated but resigned. “I’ve got that application for Engineers Without Borders to finish.”

Magnus tried to get up and follow him into the kitchen but the world still spun horribly when he attempted to stand and he was forced to sit again so he didn’t fall down. The last thing he needed was for an already grumpy Alec to have to bandage his head when he split it open on the sharp corner of his coffee table. Impatiently, he waited for Alec to reappear, which took considerably longer than Magnus had expected.

When at least he came out he headed straight for the door his bag already slung over his shoulder giving every appearance of intending to leave without another word.

“Alec?” Magnus called out after him, wishing his head would stop pounding long enough for him to figure out whatever this was.

Alec turned, his hand resting on the door handle still refusing to meet Magnus’ eyes. “I have to go. Feel free to stay as long as you need.” And then he walked out, closing the door firmly behind him.

Magnus had waited, half expecting at any moment that his best friend would come back and tell him what exactly he’d said that upset him so much. After over an hour, Magnus had to accept the unwelcome fact that Alec wasn’t coming back. He wasn’t answering any of Magnus’ messages either. He knew he was being selfish, knew how important that application was to Alec even though the thought of them being on opposite sides of the globe sounded miserable to Magnus all of a sudden. It would be the first time in almost three years since Izzy and Magnus had met on their first day of med school that they’d have to go more than a few weeks without seeing one another. At present, barely a day went past that they didn’t speak, one way or another, whether it was IM, in person or notes passed via Izzy.

Despite Alec’s continued refusal to discuss anything about the Yule Ball, Magnus had kept looking - amazed to discover that despite there having been hundreds of people at the ball, somehow no one had seen Magnus spending time with any women other than Dot, Cat and Izzy and he was absolutely certain it hadn’t been any of them. He’d even tried to convince the photographer to go through their shots from last night only to discover to that the man was crazy enough to still be using film and hadn’t had time to get the negatives developed yet. Rolling his eyes at the pretentiousness of art students in general, Magnus had hunted on in vain.

~ The Present: 22nd December 2018 ~

Magnus sighed, running his fingers over the soft leather cover of Gray’s Anatomy. He could still remember the first time Alec had shown it to him. It had been a gift from his grandfather on his mother’s side, the same one that was responsible for Alec’s middle name being ‘Gideon’. He’d apparently been convinced, despite Alec’s complete lack of interest in medicine, that book that had been in their family for generations would inspire Alec to become the next doctor in the family. The meticulous technical drawings the book was famous had inspired him just not to follow in his grandfather’s footsteps. He’d taken his love of the book’s illustrations and developed a fascination for cartography, drafting and surveying, finally settling on a career in engineering. Izzy had told Magnus that Alec had offered her the book when she’d first set her heart on doing medicine but she’d knew she’d never love it the way Alec did. She wanted the modern textbooks, the ones filled with gory colour photographs of real bodies, not the elegant etchings done over a hundred and fifty years earlier.

Magnus, by contrast, had happily indulged Alec’s passion and they’d spent hours pouring through the book together over the years every time Magnus had happened to need to reference one or other of the illustrations as he learnt about the body’s various structures and systems. As much as he’d adored it when Alec bought him a modern copy of Gray’s Anatomy for his birthday he always defaulted back to Alec’s copy with its incredible single-colour woodcut illustrations whenever he could. The text might mostly have become redundant has as medical knowledge changed fundamentally and rapidly over the past century but the illustrations were as important now as they’d ever been.  

He missed Alec. Magnus hadn’t realised how much he’d relied on his presence until his absence left a gaping hole in his life. It’s been almost a year and Alec is still the first person he wants to tell whenever anything happens. He might finally have stopped getting his phone out and staring out compose texts he can’t send but it still aches everytime he remembers Alec’s sat-phone is for emergencies only. Going from talking every day to exchanging infrequent emails had felt worse than some of his breakups. Then again, for the last few years, he’s always had Alec there helping him pick up the pieces whenever a relationship inevitably failed. He’d always scoffed at the adage ‘absence makes the heart grow fonder’ but it’s been 355 days since Alec left and he’s sitting at his desk hours before an important assignment is due incapable of completing it because he doesn’t want to open a book that would remind him too much of the man he wants, more than anything else, this Christmas. Too bad he felt certain Alec didn’t feel the same way about him.

Sighing, Magnus opened the cover and scanned the index of illustrations for the one he was looking for. There, under the heading ‘Heart’, the illustration he’d looked everywhere for: ‘Circulation of Blood in an Adult’ directing him to page six hundred and twenty-nine. Picking up the tome Magnus started at the middle and skimmed gently through the pages, slowing when he finally reached the six-hundreds to turn each individual page so as not to miss it. Magnus nearly dropped the book in surprise when he turned the final page and a colour photograph slides out onto the desk.

A single glance is enough to make him forget Gray’s Anatomy, forget the essay he has only hours left to finish and the application he needs to ace. On the desk in front of him is a photograph from last year’s Yule Ball. A photo of him and Alec wrapped tightly in one another’s arms, kissing under the mistletoe.

Chapter 2

I confess,

I loved you more than I let on but you weren’t ready for it and I wasn’t going to pour myself into hands that couldn’t hold me

- Lauren Eden, Of Yesteryear

~ The Present: 22nd December 2018 ~

Having seen the photo, Magnus wonders how he could possibly have forgotten. He’s spent an entire year comparing every kiss he shared to this one, like Prince Charming with his stupid glass slipper, finding them woefully disappointing by contrast. The thing was, with the exception of giants like Alec, he was tall so it hadn’t occurred to him why the angle always felt off - no matter what he tried. God, he was such an idiot! How could he have ignored what was right in front of him all this time? And why hadn’t Alec said something? But as soon as that thought occurred to him, he knew exactly why.

Who in their right mind would confess when the object of their affection not only didn’t remember them but had also somehow misgendered them in the process. Magnus felt physically ill as their conversation the next morning replayed in his head with full 5.1 surround sound, complete with high definition technicolour images of Alec’s transformation from breakfast baring angel to the stony-faced statue he’d been by the time he left the apartment. The fact Alec had hidden the photo here, in his most treasured book under the heading ‘Heart’ made the tears that had welled up unnoticed spill out over his cheeks.

With shaking fingers Magnus picked the photo up off the desk, the knife in his heart twisting as he realised they were both smiling as they kissed. Steeling himself, he flipped the photo drawing in a sharp breath as he saw the inscription in Alec’s familiar all-caps handwriting and in smaller text printed directly onto the photo, the photographer's details.

‘A NIGHT TO REMEMBER’ MAGNUS BANE & ALEC LIGHTWOOD YULE BALL 18TH DEC 2017

PHOTOGRAPHER: J. GHAMSARI  - EDITION: 1/1 - PRINTED: 24TH DEC 2017

He’d thought nothing could make this situation worse, but one glance at the date the photo had been printed made Magnus want the ground to open beneath his feet to transport him straight to hell. Alec had tried to tell him and Magnus had unintentionally broken his heart a second time instead. By the time Magnus had realised his mistake, Alec had already left the country.

~ December 24th, 2017 ~

Magnus groaned when he heard the doorbell, it would probably be carollers but as the only person home the night before Christmas Magnus had promised his housemates he wouldn’t let any last minute parcels go unsigned for. Snatching his shirt up from where it lay discarded beside the sofa and buttoning it haphazardly Magnus made his way down the long passage to the front door, stunned to see it was Alec standing on the sill, a thick manilla envelope clasped in one hand.

“Alec, what are you doing here? I thought you would have gone back home for what’s left of the holidays,” Magnus said noticing the way Alec’s eyes lingered on his exposed chest a beat longer than they usually would before darting away.

“It’s - uh, it’s about last week,” Alec paused, threading his fingers roughly through his hair in that familiar tell of mental agitation. “Look, you’ve got every reason to be mad at me. The next morning, after the Yule Ball - I know I should have-”

“Allowed me to drag you halfway ‘round NYU on a wild goose chase when neither of us had any idea who we were looking for?” Magnus interrupted smoothly, laughing softly. “I should never have asked, Alec, I know how important getting that internship application in was to you. Besides, it doesn’t matter now anyway.”

“It doesn’t?” Alec asked roughly, his gaze piercing as he froze in place.

“Surely you know me better than to think I’d let it rest until I found out, Alexander?”

“You - you’ve remembered?” Alec asked, looking suddenly paler.

“Not exactly. But Camille - you remember her from the presentation night for the Medical Prize, don’t you? She found out I was looking for her and admitted she’d been my mysterious stranger all along. Apparently, my crush wasn’t so unrequited after all. So you see, it’s all worked out. She’s coming around later tonight if you wanted to stay and meet her?”

“No.”

Magnus’ head snapped back, surprised by the vehemence in that single word but before he had a chance to do more than raise an eyebrow, Alec had continued.

“I mean, I’d be interrupting your evening plans. I should let you -” Alec paused again, his teeth sinking into his lip almost hard enough to draw blood. “I have to go. Merry Christmas, Magnus.”

“Wait, Alec!” Magnus called out, hating this sudden chill between them as Alec turned away. “Surely you didn’t just come here to apologise. You should stay, have a drink with me. It is Christmas after all.”

“I can’t. I’m sorry.”

“Well, can you at least tell me when we’re catching up next?” Magnus asked, suddenly feeling the need to make sure he hadn’t somehow irrevocably ruined the friendship without even realising it. “I know you had planned to spend Christmas and New Year's Eve with your family but seeing as you’re still here...”

“Actually, I, um. I got offered the internship with Engineers Without Borders,” Alec muttered, shifting his feet.

“Alexander! That’s fantastic, now you have to come in and have a drink with me, tell me all about it. Where they’re sending you, for how long - I want to know everything!” Instinctive Magnus reached out, tugging on the arm of Alec’s long black coat. It hurt when instead of smiling Alec pulled away.

“I fly out January 1st. I’ll be gone all year. It’s - I’ll be living in one of the mountain villages in Timor-Leste, they’ve got a new project to build a hospital there and if things go well, I can stay to work on securing the town’s water supply the year after. They said they’d try and get me back in time for next Christmas. So I - um - I have to go. You know, packing and everything.”

Every other time Alec’s said anything about the project his passion had been radiant, which meant these clipped sentences and flat tone had to be Magnus’ fault. Magnus cursed the Yule Ball, cursed the fact he couldn’t even abandon his plans with Camille because he hadn’t thought to get her number. Cursed the fact he was meant to be going away with Cat and Ragnor to have New Year's Eve at Cat’s family’s Chalet. So this was it? Alec was leaving the country in a few days for an entire year and Magnus wouldn’t get to see him again till next Christmas?

“At least let me take you out to the airport, Alec,” Magnus said, throwing caution to the wind and jettisoning his New Year's plans.

“But-” Alec began, displaying that adorable furrowed brow of his.

“Nothing is more important than seeing my best friend off on the trip of a lifetime,” Magnus assured him. “I’ll be at that airport whether you let me drive you or not. I’m not below blackmailing Izzy into telling me so you may as well just accept it.”

Alec’s rueful smile was like sunshine, the man he recognised peeking out from behind the rigid facade he was putting up.

“You really want to get up at six in the morning just to see me off at the gate?” Alec asked, raising a challenging eyebrow.

“I’ll be on your doorstep at five,” Magnus shot back, his lips automatically curling to match Alec’s.

“If you’re late I’m leaving without you,” Alec threatened sliding back into their familiar banter without even seeming to realise he was doing it.

“Okay.”

“Okay. You’re on.” Alec nodded, holding Magnus’ gaze before saying softly, “Merry Christmas, Magnus.”

“Merry Christmas, Alexander.”

~ The Present: 22nd December 2018 ~

Magnus needed a drink.

His crush on Camille had been madness and she’d played him for the fool he was. She’d strung him along for almost 3 weeks after ‘confessing’ to being his mysterious mistletoe kiss. She’d made a game out of kissing him everywhere except his lips, correctly assuming that he’d realise the minute their lips met that something was off. He’d been so caught up in wanting it to be her, wanting to believe that she felt the way he did about her. But even she’d tired of that game eventually, laughing at his naivety when she’d finally revealed she hadn’t even noticed him at the Yule Ball, she’d just thought it would be fun to see how long she could string him along because surely the top medical student couldn’t be that stupid? Well, apparently he was. He’d spilled the whole humiliating affair out in one of his emails to Alec. It makes perfect sense now that Alec had barely referenced the whole mess when he’d finally replied over a week later. Then again, it wasn’t like Alec had super reliable internet at the best of times, so it could also be that Magnus was projecting.

Getting up, Magnus paced over to the drinks cart, skipping his usual ice and pouring whiskey liberally into the waiting tumbler. Tossing it back in a single swallow Magnus tried to figure out what to do. It’s been a whole year since that photograph had been taken, it’d hardly be surprising if the intervening time had been enough to thoroughly destroy whatever feelings Alec might once have had for him. Did he really want to risk destroying their friendship a second time?

Yes.

The answer was immediate. He was in love with Alexander Lightwood and he had to know if there was any chance to make this work. Hell, he’d been prepared to follow the man to the other side of the world without the tiniest shred of real evidence to justify his hopes, now at least he knew it was possible. There had been real passion in that kiss and tenderness in the breakfast he’d made for him the next morning. He just hoped Alec was willing to give him a chance to show just how much he wanted that future.

To Be Continued

[malecsecretsanta]

Merry Christmas, @134340knj!

[malecsecretsanta]

Merry Christmas, @giinevraweaslley!

To Sarah, I hope you enjoy this little holiday gift! x

Read on AO3

*****

Intertwined, Free 

 The start of December not only brought with it the beginning of the Christmas holiday, but also the first snow of the season.

When Alec awoke in Magnus’ bed, tangled in soft royal blue sheets and warm limbs, he caught a glimpse of gauzy white snowflakes drifting past the window through the small gap in the curtains of the four poster bed. Smiling to himself, Alec reached for his glasses to get a better look, but the movement seemed to wake Magnus, whose cheek was resting on Alec’s sternum.

Stretching his legs, Magnus cracked one eye open and then the other, looking up at Alec sleepily. “It’s still early,” he mumbled, reaching up to run his thumb over Alec’s lower lip.

“It’s the first day of the holidays; we can’t just sleep that away,” Alec protested, running his fingers up and down the deep indentation of Magnus’ spine, bare skin on skin.

Magnus gave a tired and noncommittal hum, leaning up on his elbow. “Do we have plans I don’t know about?”

Nuzzling his face in Magnus’ neck, Alec shook his head. “I just want to take advantage of our time off classes.”

“It’s still early,” Magnus griped, flailing his hand around on the bedside table until he could get a hold of his wand that he flicked carelessly to close the little slit in the curtains. “Too bright.”

“But it’s snowing,” Alec whispered, smiling as he kissed languidly at his collarbone, dragging his teeth over the sensitive skin.

With a final groan of resignation, Magnus sat up, running a hand through the soft, droopy strands of his hair. “You’re relentless, Alexander.” He pulled his boxer briefs on and then stood, looking for his robe before he gave up searching by hand. “Accio,” he murmured, catching the silk fabric in one hand.

The way the sunlight came through the window cast little rainbows across his body where it hit the angled cuts on the glass. One was on the high point of his cheekbone, and it made Alec smile.

Pulling back his side of the curtain, Alec put on his sweats and a t-shirt before rounding the foot of the bed and pulling Magnus in against his chest.

He could feel the smile on Magnus’ lips where his face pressed against his cheek, and he wrinkled his nose playfully at the excessively noisy kiss Magnus planted on him. “Let’s go sit by the fireplace and warm up,” Alec suggested, sliding his hand down Magnus’ arm to intertwine their fingers and pull him along.

“I don’t think I can say no to that,” Magnus admitted, allowing himself to be led down the winding stairs out of the boys’ dormitory and into the common room.

Alec had become as comfortable in the Ravenclaw common room as he was in his own house’s, evidenced by the way he went to the fireplace to stoke it, then took a blanket from the pile next to the chairs to toss across Magnus’ lap before taking a seat next to him on the loveseat.

Magnus smiled at him affectionately, and the feeling of his fingers tenderly carding through Alec’s hair earned him a sound akin to a purr. “All that hurry just to lie back down? You’re a menace,” he teased.

“Do you want something to drink?” Alec asked, pointedly ignoring Magnus’ jibe and reaching for the serving tray on the end table that had empty mugs and magically refilling carafes of coffee, tea, and hot chocolate.

“Hot chocolate.” Magnus immediately took his hot mug and cradled it against his chest when Alec offered it to him, cupping it with both hands.

After pouring himself a cup of coffee, Alec sat back under Magnus’ arm, pressing a kiss to the round of his shoulder. “I was thinking we could go into Hogsmeade today. Do some Christmas shopping.”

“That sounds marvelous,” Magnus smiled, running his index finger around the rim of his mug thoughtfully. “I’ve got a few more last minute gifts to buy.”

“You’re behind on your Christmas shopping?” Alec asked incredulously, eyebrows raised high on his forehead. “The world must be coming to an end.”

Magnus snorted in faux offense, waving off Alec’s comment. “You’re one to talk—you spend entirely too long planning your list, leaving all the shopping for the very last minute.”

“Hey lovebirds,” a voice interrupted, coming from the stairs that led down from the girls’ dormitory. They looked over to see Isabelle, wrapped in a thin kimono that only partially covered her nightgown and wearing luxuriously fuzzy slippers. She had an affectionate smirk on her face when she dropped into the armchair across from them. “You’re up early. I thought you’d be taking advantage of nearly the entire school clearing out for the holidays to roll around in the sheets all day.”

Magnus nodded, looking down into his cup coyly. “If I’d had my way…”

“We’ve got shopping to get done,” Alec interrupted, “and today’s the perfect time to go to Hogsmeade.”

Twisting her hair around into a loose knot at the base of her skull, Isabelle reached for a mug of her own that she filled with tea. “Sounds romantic.”

“What about you? I thought you’d be sleeping until at least noon.” Alec took a sip of his coffee, the steam fogging the inner corners of his lenses.

“I’m not going to let the empty common room go to waste,” she explained, pulling her wand from the bodice of her nightgown and flicking it. A pile of boxes of varying sizes stacked themselves beside the leg of her chair. “I’ve got plenty of Christmas wrapping to do, I promised Mom and Max that I would call via Floo Network, and Clary and I were going to play a few games of Wizard’s Chess. With everyone gone, I can do all of that right here with minimal interruptions.” The silver serpent bracelet on her wrist suddenly slithered to life, coiling up her forearm slowly. After a one tap against it with the tip of her wand, it retreated back down and froze in place. “Right on schedule.”

Alec laughed, setting his empty mug back on the table. “We’ll leave you to it then.” Looking over at Magnus finishing the contents of his own, he said, “I’m going to head to my dorm to get my things.”

Nodding, Magnus gave him a kiss that mingled the tastes of their beverages into a pleasant combination that lingered on his tongue. “I’ll meet you outside the Great Hall.”

Just before Alec could leave, Isabelle stopped him. “Look up, hermano.” The smug smile on her face took all the surprise out of the realization that above him was a sprig of mistletoe. And even less inconspicuous was the subtle look that she shared with Magnus.

“We can’t argue with tradition,” Magnus said simply, making his way over to Alec and hooking his fingers into the elastic of his pants to pull his hips flush against his own as they shared another kiss, this one a bit more chaste yet sweet.

With a final parting nod to Isabelle, Alec started his trek down to the Slytherin dungeon. He smiled to himself as he jogged down the steps of the changing staircases, running a hand along the side of his neck. Magnus’ parting gift from the previous night had been a love bite the size of a Galleon that had turned into a purplish bruise that was tender to the touch. He pressed on it gently, reveling in the delicious ache.

After giving the password, he crossed over the threshold of the portrait hole and entered the common room. It was completely empty, save for Clary who was curled up on the couch with her sketchbook propped up on her thighs as her charcoal flew over the paper. Her eyebrows were drawn in concentration, but she glanced up at the sound of someone entering.

“Hey,” she greeted, smiling warmly.

“Is everyone else gone?” Alec asked, sitting on the ottoman across from her.

She nodded, tucking loose hair from her ponytail behind her ear. “Mostly. And Simon’s gone too according to the Hufflepuff prefect I ran into at breakfast—he left yesterday to spend Hanukkah with his family. Maia stayed though, but she’s working today.”

“Oh,” Alec said, leaning forward with his elbows on his knees. “Magnus and I will have to drop by The Three Broomsticks and say hi.”

“You guys going to Hogsmeade? The weather’s great for that today, with the first snow and everything.” Getting to her feet and flexing her toes in her thick wool socks, Clary ambled over to the fireplace, holding her hands out for warmth. “It’s cold enough that I think I’m staying in, though.”

“You’re hanging out with Izzy, so I doubt you’ll be bored,” Alec pointed out, heading towards the boys’ dormitory. “She’s waiting for you in the Ravenclaw common room whenever you want to drop by.”

“Good to know,” Clary laughed.

When he got back to his room, Alec traded in his glasses and lounge wear for a forest green wool sweater, jeans, and combat boots. His hair was nearly impossible to tame, hopelessly tousled, so he pulled on a beanie as an afterthought before stuffing his wand into his back pocket and making his way to the entrance hall.

Magnus was already waiting for him, leaning against one of the pillars outside the Great Hall with his hands stuffed into the pockets of his long coat. As soon as he caught sight of Alec, his face broke into a warm smile that set Alec’s heart off beating rapidly in his chest. Warmth spread underneath his skin and coalesced in his hands with a pleasant tingling sensation. Alec couldn’t imagine a time in the future when he wouldn’t be struck by his extraordinary luck to be the recipient of the affection of a man like Magnus. He never knew it could feel this way to be looked at with such tenderness; never knew that his heart could pound against his rib cage in a way that made him certain everyone could hear it, that his entire body would feel like it was vibrating with an untamable electricity that coursed through him completely.

“Hey there pretty boy,” Magnus greeted smoothly, pressing a kiss to Alec’s temple. “Ready to go?”

Alec took his hand in response, giving an encouraging smile.

As soon as they were out the doors, they were getting covered in snowflakes—some got caught in their eyelashes and nestled in their hair while others landed on their skin only to melt from the body heat radiating from them.

Hogwarts was at its most beautiful in winter, Alec thought. The glaze of snow that covered everything made it look so picturesque. He’d never minded the cold, or trudging through some snow, so he relished every opportunity to wander the grounds in the midst of it all.

Magnus didn’t seem to mind either, taking in the white-dusted paths, trees, and buildings with a content smile.

They didn’t talk for a few minutes, lapsing into comfortable silence. Simply holding hands, feeling their mingled pulses pounding, was satisfaction enough sometimes. Words were always valuable to Alec—there were so many conversations that he’d shared with Magnus that had been tucked away in his heart for safekeeping—but the times they didn’t speak to one another but still shared in each other’s space almost felt even more intimate.

There had been an innate sense of ease they felt all the way down to their bones from the very beginning.

Alec had first seen Magnus at the Sorting in his first year. He’d sat down on the stool and looked out at the sea of attentive faces and was taken aback by one boy in particular. He couldn’t remember ever having seen someone so beautiful. When he was sorted into Slytherin, he hoped beyond hope that the boy would join him, and was admittedly disappointed when he wasn’t, but on his way to the Ravenclaw table, their eyes had met. The softest, prettiest smile spread across the boy’s lips, and Alec didn’t think he would ever forget it. They had a handful of classes together but barely spoke beyond an occasional greeting or pardon, though they shared kind smiles and nods every now and then.

Things were much the same as second years, timid but interested.

By the time they were third years, Alec finally took the plunge after sharing half a bottle of Gigglewater with Isabelle for her birthday. He’d asked Magnus if he would be interested in studying together in the library sometime, and Magnus had charitably overlooked the nervous ambiguity and accepted, offering a day and time. They only studied for the first ten minutes before they devolved into unrelated chit chat. Alec had never had conversation come so easily with someone he’d hardly spoken to, and was surprised at how quickly his responses and questions came. Studying in the library became study dates, which became coffee dates in Hogsmeade, which became late night conversations in the common rooms, which became something wonderful and undeniably real.

At the start of their fourth year, they were officially a couple, following a summer that they spent nearly every minute of together. They’d shared their first kiss, Alec’s first kiss, which was nothing like he’d imagined but everything he had hoped it could be. They spent many a night sleeping beside one another under the stars, and many mornings watching the sunrise while they drank their coffee.  

They’d been together ever since, and now, in their last year at Hogwarts, they wanted to enjoy every minute they had to be together in the simple little bubble they’d been in since the day they’d met.

A cold snowflake that slid down the back of Alec’s neck made him jump, startling him out of his thoughts. “The snow’s picking up,” he remarked, breaking the silence.

Magnus stopped for a moment, reaching down to pull his wand from where it was tucked into his boot, and held it up as he murmured a spell under his breath, a translucent bubble that resembled an umbrella emerged from the tip. It was wide enough for them to both fit comfortably beneath it, but he didn’t hesitate to wrap his hand around Alec’s upper arm and pull him close.

Chuckling warmly, Alec pressed his face to Magnus’ temple, earning a playful swat.

“Your nose is cold,” Magnus complained.

Surging forward, Alec leaned into him more insistently, following Magnus’ closely even as he tried to move away. “But you’re so warm.”

“I’ll buy you as many Butterbeers as your heart desires to warm you up,” Magnus offered, finally managing to keep Alec at bay. “As soon as we’re done with our shopping.”

Hogsmeade was relatively quiet despite the holiday season, and Magnus and Alec intended to take full advantage of it. They went from store to store, their pockets growing lighter as their bags became heavier with gifts. Two hours later, with heavy limbs and a plethora of baggage, they dragged themselves to The Three Broomsticks.

Magnus chose a table for two near the back of the pub, next to one of the Christmas trees. While Alec arranged their purchases on the floor beside them, he went to the bar to order their drinks and returned with a plate of pumpkin pasties. Alec’s favorite.

Holding one out to Alec, Magnus encouraged him to take a bite before taking one of his own. “Mm, they’ve really outdone themselves. I’m already anticipating putting on at least twenty pounds from all the holiday foods.”

Alec laughed, finishing the remainder of the first pasty in one bite. “It’ll be so worth the stomachache.”

“Two Butterbeers for the gents.” Maia stood above them, her tray anchored against her hip as she set their drinks in front of them. Her bracelets clinked against one another with her movements.

“How’s the holiday traffic?” Alec asked her, running his fingers down the side of his tumbler to collect a small drip of butterscotch.

Letting out a long suffering sigh, Maia shook her head. “You wouldn’t believe how busy we’ve been. You’ve caught us at a slower time, shockingly. I’ve been on my feet for so long I think I could collapse at any minute.”

Holding up his hand, Magnus fanned out his fingers and then twisted them slightly, revealing a Galleon. He’d always been fond of muggle magic tricks, and Alec couldn’t deny that he greatly enjoyed watching it.

Maia grinned, reaching for the coin as he held it out to her. “Next visit is on the house for you, sir.” With a wink, she turned and made her way back to the bar.

After a hearty gulp of his drink, Alec set down his glass only for Magnus to dissolve into a fit of laughter. Managing to compose himself, Magnus reached across the table and swept his thumb across Alec’s upper lip, collecting the soft foam. “I don’t think a mustache is quite your look,” he explained, struggling to keep a straight face.

“Izzy used to insist we put whipped cream on our hot chocolate when we were little so we could all have mustaches. She thought it was the funniest thing,” Alec reminisced, shaking his head with a smile. “Max thought she was a genius, of course.”

Magnus reached across the table to cradle the back of Alec’s hand tenderly. “How has he been doing with your parents’ separation?”

There was a part of Alec that had been dreading when Magnus inevitably asked about the divorce, because no matter how hard he tried to be the strong and silent eldest child who made sure all the others were taken care of, he still hurt watching a piece of his family begin to crumble. The other part of him, however, desperately wanted to confide in Magnus—he was the one person Alec didn’t feel he had to hide or water down his feelings for. Having someone take care of him was a new phenomenon, and he couldn’t deny that he liked the comfort and yearned for it, in spite of his proclivity for denying himself for the sake of others.

“He’s…struggling,” Alec hedged, eyes down. “For the most part, he’s going through this alone. Izzy, Jace, and I are together here, but he’s still at home where he has to watch their marriage come apart at the seams.” He paused for a moment. “That’s why Izzy arranged to speak with him today. We’re trying our best to be there for him as much as we can but it’s only doing so much. Mom said she’d rather we stay here for the holidays so we don’t have to be around for it too, so we won’t even be with him then.”

Magnus’ grip tightened on Alec’s hand, causing Alec to meet his gaze. “You’re doing the best you know how to, Alexander,” he said kindly. His eyes were warm and gentle, and looking into them gave Alec a sense of momentary peace. “You can’t carry the burden for all your siblings. Your pain alone is hard enough to carry. You’re all doing the most important thing you can, and that’s to stand by one another.”

With a wry smile, Alec nodded in agreement. “You’re right. I just wish there was more I could do.”

“Alexander… Defender of man. You can’t forsake the importance of your own wellbeing.”

“I’ll work on that,” Alec replied, picking up another pasty from the tray.

It didn’t take long to finish off a second round of drinks as well as the remainder of the pastries, leaving them sufficiently warmed and sated.

“Before I forget,” Alec began, reaching into his coat for the small wrapped box he’d carefully kept a hand on all afternoon, “I have something I want to give you.”

Magnus rolled his eyes playfully. “My birthday isn’t for a week, and Christmas is still a ways away.”

“I know, but this was something that I…I didn’t want to wait on.”

Seeming to pick up on the more serious tone Alec had taken, Magnus sat up straighter and leaned across the table towards him. “Okay.”

Alec slid the small package, about the size of a music box, across the tabletop towards him. “It’s not much but I really wanted you to have it,” he said, like a disclaimer.

Magnus waved off his self-deprecation and carefully undid the bow and wrapping paper to reveal a square glass container. Inside of it was a filmy blue wisp that was nearly transparent. It began to swirl slowly and grew into something with definite shape—limbs, body, head, and tail. It was a white panther, pacing lazily in his box before standing still and lowering its head in deference to him. “It’s beautiful,” Magnus breathed, looking back up at Alec.

“I wanted you to know. I wanted you to be the first one I told.” Alec pulled his wand out, clutching it with a slightly shaky hand. “My patronus changed its form.” Before he could scare himself out of it, Alec murmured “Expecto patronum” under his breath. Soft wisps of blue burst from the tip of his wand and amalgamated into a larger version of the white panther, gracefully running in the air above them before slowing to a stop above Alec’s left shoulder.

Ever since mastering the patronus charm in fourth year, Alec’s had taken the form of a stallion. He’d grown so accustomed to it that during the previous week when he’d cast it to send a message to Isabelle, he was shocked to see a white panther glowing before him. It resembled Magnus’ patronus in every way, save for its coloring. Magnus’ patronus had always been a black panther, as sleek and graceful as he was.

Alec had heard the rumors that a patronus could adapt its form, but he had thought it was simply that—a rumor. And for some, a silly love story. When one’s greatest happiness became tied to another, that was reflected in their magic but it was still hard for Alec to believe it was possible. Much less that it would happen to him. Yet it had.

“Alexander…” Magnus shook his head, touching the side of the glass container adoringly.

“I harnessed a small piece of the magic produced when I thought of my happiest memory, captured it for you in its truest form. It changed for you, Magnus. Because of you.” Alec could feel the slight heat rising in his cheeks, but he pressed on. “Because I love you.”

“I love you too,” Magnus replied without missing a beat. He spoke sincerely, and it made Alec’s heart feel as if it were being squeezed tightly in his chest. Placing his fingers under Alec’s chin, he guided their mouths together and kissed him, slow and warm and languid. “Thank you for such a beautiful gift,” he whispered when they parted, his lips brushing Alec’s as he spoke. “And,” he continued, sitting back and reaching for his things, “I have to confess I have a gift for you as well that I didn’t plan to wait to give to you. And now, it seems particularly apropos.” He produced a small, flat box from the confines of his messenger bag.

“Magnus, you definitely didn’t—”

“I know,” Magnus interjected. “I really wanted to. Trust me.”

Lifting the lid revealed a long, delicate silver chain on which a round silver pendant the size of a Knut hung. An engraving of an anatomical heart was meticulously carved into the cold metal, and Alec traced it gently. Oddly, it seemed to be throbbing faintly as if blood were truly coursing through it.

“I’ve imbued it with a bit of my own heart, so to speak,” Magnus explained. “A binding spell between my heart and that one allows it to replicate my heartbeat when you touch it. It can only be activated by you.”

Slipping it over his head hastily, Alec relished the feeling of the pendant settling against his sternum, pounding a pulse that acted as perfect counterpoint to his own. “I love it, Magnus. I love you.”

“Merry Christmas, my love,” Magnus replied, reaching for Alec’s hands with both of his.

Clasping them tightly, Alec brought them to his lips, kissing his knuckles. “Merry Christmas, Magnus.”

It was nightfall when they returned to the castle. With the nights getting shorter and shorter, it was truly not very late when it became dark enough the lamp posts that lined the grounds came to life.

“It’s still early,” Alec began, grabbing the lapels of Magnus’ coat to pull him close, “and I’m sure Izzy and Clary would like us out of the way a bit longer.”

Magnus considered the offer with a thoughtful hum. “What did you have in mind to keep us occupied?”

“How about a soak in the prefect’s bathtub?” Alec suggested, nuzzling against Magnus’ face affectionately.

The warm chuckle Magnus released made Alec smile. “You like to break the rules, don’t you?”

“It’s only half a rule break,” Alec justified, leaning back to look at him. “I am a prefect. You’re not.”

“Well, I’m happy to take responsibility for my end.” With that, Magnus took Alec’s hand and pulled him towards the staircases.

They attempted to smother their laughter with kisses and gentle shushing with fingertips ghosting over mouths as they stumbled their way to the fifth floor.

After murmuring the password, Alec passed over the threshold with Magnus close behind. The enormous tub sat beside the large stained glass window that was beginning to catch moonlight and refract it onto the smooth surface. The candles in the mounted candelabras came alive with bright flames, and with a flick of Alec’s wand, the pipes began to rattle as hot water and bubbles came streaming out.

“Shall I take care of our shopping bags?” Magnus asked, shedding his coat and letting it fall to the ground.

“Allow me.” With a flick of Alec’s wrist, their spoils were sent to their respective rooms.

As the water began to flood the tub and steam began to fill the room, making the air thick, Magnus and Alec shed their clothes. Roaming hands, tender fingers, and petal pink mouths kissed at both the scarred and unblemished patches of skin that were revealed.

Running the pads of his fingers over the top of the water to test the temperature, Magnus nodded. “It feels wonderful.”

“After you.” Alec touched his necklace thoughtfully, about to remove it, but the rhythmic thud that pounded against his chest dissuaded him. Stepping in after him, he settled against the edge and closed his eyes. The heat made his skin tingle at the sudden change in temperature, but he welcomed it.

The sound of water splashing and the spatter of water droplets coaxed him into looking at Magnus, who was running his hands over his water-slicked hair with his back to Alec. Small jewels of water slid down the sharp bones of his shoulder blades as well as the straight line of his spine. “You prefects are lucky bastards,” he remarked, looking over his shoulder at Alec. “I never knew what I was missing.” Sinking down lower, he submerged himself in bubbles up to his sharp collarbones.

Alec crooked his finger in a come here gesture. “I’m always happy to share with you.”

With a self-satisfied smile, Magnus glided over to him and pressed their chests flush against each other. “What a generous offer. I fully intend to take complete advantage of it, you know.”

“If that’s what you want.”

Magnus looked at him, seeming to ponder the face of his love. “You’re what I want,” he said simply.

“I’m yours.” Alec reaching for Magnus’ hand, intertwining their fingers under the water.

[malecsecretsanta]

Merry Christmas, @the-crownless-queen!

*****

With heavy set eyes, Alec watches as charcoal drapes catch on the breeze that has him burrowing further into the blanket currently wrapped around him. The winter chill somehow deepens the shadows that have claimed the loft, muting the world until it feels as gentle as the kiss Magus placed on his forehead before getting up to refill their drinks. 

“Should I close the balcony doors?” Magnus asks as he glances away from the drink cart. He’s just about done mixing whatever concoction has already seeped into Alec’s muscles, soothing the sting of a post morning workout.

Alec shakes his head. “I kind of like it.” He likes the idea of running his hands under Magnus’ shirt even more. Dragging fingertips along grooves of muscle until chill is replaced by a steady, all-encompassing heat. 

“Offer expires as soon as I’m back on the couch, Mr. Lightwood-Bane. I’d recommend considering it before it’s off the table.”

“I’ve always had my eyes set on the bigger picture,” Alec counters, with his mouth covered by the blanket. “And as far as I’m concerned, that’s having you back on the couch with me.”

"Well then, I better hurry up." 

Backlit by the soft light pooling in from the kitchen, Magnus looks nothing short of incredible. Red highlighted hair falls casually over his forehead as shoulder muscles pull at fabric every time he gives their drinks a stir. It’s hard sometimes, looking at Magnus with those half smiles so often punctuated by a wink, to not question how he managed to find himself here. Tucked so comfortably in the presence of someone as amazing as Magnus. Given full access into the heart of the man who has helped shape the world. 

There was a time when contemplating the vastness of Magnus Bane made Alec feel small. Like he stumbled into a world that wasn’t meant for him. But every time doubt tugged at him, Magnus was always there to wrap their fingers together and guide Alec deeper. Navigating every twist and turn until they were both caught in a current that neither one wanted to escape from. And every time Alec watched as Magnus pulled  off each ring before joining him in bed, or yawned over a morning newspaper, he was reminded that this is the life he helped creat for himself. This beautifully golden thing was his, and he belonged here. 

Eyes half-lidded and heavy, Alec wants nothing more than to be reminded of just that. To be wrapped between the blanket and Magnus' heartbeat, pressed into the solid expanse of skin until he can feel every rumble of laughter roll off Magnus like the thunder he stores deep inside himself. He wants to feel his skin prickle, welcoming the hum of Magnus’ energy as it reaches for him. Let it glide down his body until it settles into him. 

Thankfully, Alec doesn’t need to wait for long. The couch shifts as Magnus rejoins him, placing the drinks on the coffee table in front of them. Instead of reaching for it, Alec opens the blanket just long enough to wrap Magnus inside and pull him into his arms. Magnus moves without protest, securing himself to Alec’s chest before sighing softly. In a matter of seconds, his breathing slows, and they linger here. Drifting in the softest solitude. In a space they spent years fighting for and crafting, until they finally had a place to call their very own. It’s everything Alec’s ever wanted. For himself, but more so for Magnus.

And it’s suddenly all too much but in the best way possible. Because he feels completely and utterly full with a love that’s radiating outwards, and Alec wants nothing more than to bask in it. He almost wants to ask Magnus how this is possible. Because feeling this good seemed unimaginable just a few years ago, and now all he has to do is cross the living room or roll over in bed to be flooded by the presence of it.

But before Alec can say anything, the space between them dissipates. With a fluid movement, Magnus turns, brushing his chest against Alec’s and lowering himself until Alec is lost in the softest lips. And it feels like freefalling. Tumbling between too many feelings to properly categorize, but they leave him sated just the same. He can spend the rest of his life chasing the taste of Magnus in his mouth.

Running his fingers down powerful arms, Alec falls deeper into the kiss, before his hands travel further down, down the grooves of abs, until he’s trailing the hem of a silken shirt.

“You’re freezing,” Magnus hisses as Alec shoves his hand onto Magnus’ stomach, but Alec refuses to let him break their embrace. “How is that even possible? You’ve been burritoed in this blanket for hours.”

Alec shrugs. “It’s the price you pay for leaving me in the cold.”

“Alexander, I could fill this room with eighteen fireplaces and you’d still be an iceberg.”

“You should have read the bylaws when you agreed to marry me.”

Magnus smiles then, a deep and genuine smile that seeps into Alec. “There’s nothing in this world that would have kept me from marrying you. But I’m closing the balcony doors.”

Before he can do that though, Magnus drops his forehead onto Alec’s chin and rests there. The loft has always felt comfortable, more his than his room at the Institute ever felt, but this, absorbing Magnus’ heat, placing gentle kisses along the top of his head, has always felt like home.

[malecsecretsanta]

Merry Christmas, @golden-queen-writes!

Read on AO3

*****

Flower Buds

Alec stared at the flower buds on his arm. They had been there since he was born, waiting for the day that he kissed his soulmate so they bloom. His reached up the length of his right arm, up his shoulder and crawling up part of his neck. His compared to his siblings was large, not uncommon, but most people he knew had smaller fields of flowers.

Isabelle’s flower buds spread along her left side, Max’s was only a couple on his ankle and Jace had a patch on the back of his shoulder. All small, all easily hidden.

“Thinking about your soulmate again?”

Alec jumped, not realizing anyone had walked into his office. He pulled down the sleeve of his robe and looked up to see Maia had walked in. “Kind of hard not to when a good chunk of you is covered. Did you need something?”

“I can’t find your boyfriend and I need my wolfsbane potion,” Maia replied, sitting across from him. “I thought you might know where he was.”

Alec’s cheeks turned red and he looked down at the multiple essays he was supposed to be grading. He had only gotten through three before he got distracted by his mark. “One, he’s not my boyfriend,” He said, and Maia snorted out a laugh. He looked back up at her. “He’s not.”

“I’ve caught students gossiping about you and Magnus in my class when they’re supposed to be focused on fire crabs.”

Alec sighed. “I haven’t seen him since lunch, but I’m sure he has your potion ready in his office.” He stood up and gestured towards the door. “I know his latest password.”

“And you say he’s not your boyfriend,” Maia teased.

They walked down towards Magnus’ office, which was located near the Ravenclaw tower, while Alec’s was closer to the Hufflepuff common room. As they walked together, they both spoke of their different classes. Neither of them had been teaching very long, Alec starting as the Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher the previous year and Maia having become the new Care of Magical Creatures teacher at the beginning of the current school year.

“I don’t think I ever congratulated you on the promotion to head of our house. Maybe you’ll even make it to headmaster.”

Alec sighed. “My parents were dark wizards at one point, I don’t think they’ll hand it over to me.”

“They gave me a job despite me being a werewolf, Alec,” Maia said. “And I think you would make an amazing headmaster.”

Alec smiled at her. “We’ll see.” They stopped in front of Magnus’ office and he tapped his wand on the brick under Magnus’ nameplate. The brick fizzled away, revealing a piece of parchment and a quill. Alec quickly scribbled ‘defender of men’ on it before parchment burned up and the door opened.

“Interesting password.”

Alec’s cheeks flushed and he walked into the office, saying nothing. There was a cauldron on the desk and some goblets. He also spotted a folded note with ‘Alexander’ written on it. He pocketed it before Maia could see it.

“Correct me if I’m wrong,” Maia said, filling one of the goblets with the wolfsbane potion. “But ‘defender of men’ is the meaning of Alexander, yes?”

Alec sighed. “Yes.” He turned towards her. “I thought you didn’t care about the soulmate thing?”

“I don’t,” Maia replied, grimacing as she took a sip of her potion. “But he’s constantly talking about you and it gets annoying sometimes.”

“I doubt he would stop if we started dating,” Alec said. He sighed again and sat behind Magnus’ desk. “It’s complicated Maia.”

She sat down on the opposite side. “Try me.”

Alec was silent for a long moment before confessing, “What if he turns out to not be the one?”

“And what if he is?” Maia smiled softly at him. “Even if he’s not. He’s a really great guy, Alec, don’t let this whole soulmate thing be your deciding factor.” She then reached out and placed a hand over Alec’s giving it a squeeze. “Just because I gave up looking doesn’t mean I don’t want to see my friends happy, and you deserve to be happy.”

Alec looked at her for a long moment before nodding. “Thanks, Maia.”

“Alright, I need to get back to my own office. I have about a million assignments to grade. You have a good night and thanks for letting me in.”

“No problem. Good night, Maia.”

Maia left the office and once the door closed Alec pulled the letter left to him out of his pocket. He smiled to himself as he looked at Magnus’ cursive writing, tracing his finger along where Magnus had written out his name. The letter was a simple apology, he had gone out to dinner with an old friend off grounds. Magnus had also sprinkled in plenty of endearments and flirtations that made Alec smile more.

He was sure more werewolves would show up for the potion and waved his wand, making the papers he had been grading from his desk appear on Magnus’. He could wait for the other wizard to come back.

A few hours later, a hand shaking his shoulder woke him and he blinked his eyes open to see Magnus standing above him. He groaned and sat up. “I’m sorry.”

Magnus just smiled at him. “Don’t be. I’m just surprised that you waited for me.”

“Someone had to hand out the potion.”

“I’m sorry I didn’t ask.”

“Don’t worry about it,” Alec yawned. “What time is it?”

“Past curfew, so if you didn’t want to get caught I could make the bed a little bigger,” Magnus said with a wink, making Alec chuckle. “Would you like me to walk you back?”

“I am tired, but I don’t really want to walk all the way back.”

“You’re the head of your house, you need to be close to it.”

“I have my own system to be reached if I’m not there,” Alec said. “Unless you don’t want me to stay.”

Magnus was silent for a moment before smiling softly at Alec. “What will the students think if they see you coming out of here in the morning?”

“According to Maia, they already talk about us.”

“You’re very bold tonight, Alexander,” Magnus said before turning away to tap a couple times on a brick, causing the wall to disappear and reveal his bed. “Apologies for the mess, I wasn’t expecting company.”

Alec just smiled and sat down as Magnus went to the dresser and pulled out two sets of pajamas. Magnus set a black pair next to Alec, keeping the blue one for himself. “It might be a little short on you.”

Alec smiled and slipped off his robe, folding it and setting it next to him. “That’s what magic’s for right?”

Magnus smiled and turned away from Alec, giving him some privacy as they changed. Alec did his best to not look, but as Magnus removed his shirt, Alec couldn’t help but to notice the buds on Magnus’ arm reaching up towards his neck. He had seen glimpses of Magnus’ soulmark poking out from his robes before, but never once seen how far it extended. It looked identical to Alec’s own. The only difference being it looked scarred.

Magnus seemed to sense Alec’s eyes on him and turned around, pulling on his shirt which dipped almost down to his belly, leaving much of his chest exposed. “See something you like, Alexander?”

Alec blushed and quickly looked away. “I was just looking at your mark.”

Magnus was quiet for a moment before sitting down next to Alec. “It’s not pretty, I know.”

Alec looked up at him. “I didn’t say that. It’s just..it looks a lot like mine.”

Magnus raised an eyebrow. “Oh?” Alec nodded and pulled off his shirt to show Magnus his whole mark. Magnus looked at his arm in awe and reached out, tracing one of the buds. “They do look the same, don’t they?”

Alec’s heart raced as Magnus continued to touch, fingers moving up to trail along the buds on his neck. Alec dared to reach up and push part of Magnus’ shirt off his shoulder to reveal part of his mark again.

He ignored the scarring, instead focusing on the buds, his mind wondering what they would bloom into and if those flowers would match his own. He looked up at Magnus again, sucking in a breath when he realized how close they had gotten.

Magnus reached up and caressed Alec’s cheek. “Alexander,” he whispered, and Alec’s heart pounded impossibly faster. He wanted to close the distance between them. Just a few more inches and-

An incessant knocking broke them apart and Magnus frowned, dropping his hand away from Alec. He started to get up, but Alec wrapped his hand around Magnus’ wrist stopping him for a moment.

“We’ll talk when I get back, Alexander,” Magnus said and Alec reluctantly let go of him, watching him walk towards the door. There was a Ravenclaw prefect on the other side of the door, talking in a hurried voice and Magnus left the office with an apologetic glance towards Alec.

Alec sighed and threw on his shirt before lying down on the bed. It was a poor choice as he fell asleep before Magnus got back, only waking up briefly when the bed dipped and an arm wrapped around his waist.

“Go back to sleep,” a voice whispered in his ear and he had no urge to object.

The next time he awoke, he could feel someone’s fingers carding through his hair and could hear a soft humming. He let out a yawned and slowly turned over to face Magnus was was sitting on the edge of the bed, already dressed. “What time is it?” He mumbled, feeling Magnus’ fingers move along his shoulder and down his arm. Even with all his conflicting feelings, he felt comfortable in Magnus’ bed and had no desire to move.

“Halfway through breakfast,” Magnus answered.

Alec groaned. “Now people will definitely be talking.”

“They already do, Alexander.”

Alec sighed and was quiet for a long moment before saying, “We should talk.”

“And we will,” Magnus said. “But right now, we need to eat and get ready for our classes.”

Alec nodded. “Yeah. I guess you’re right.” He sighed again and sat up, looking at his clothes that were folded in a pile near the bed. “Think I can borrow something to wear again?”

Magnus smiled. “Of course.” The Ravenclaw stood up and pulled out a dark blue button up and a pair of pants, waving his wand to make them Alec’s size. “Here, these should look good on you.”

“Thanks, Magnus.”

Once Alec was dressed, they walked down to the great hall together. “So what happened last night when you got called away?” Alec asked.

“I had to give out detention to two students who decided to wake up the whole house by having a duel because of a small disagreement,” Magnus sighed, shaking his head. “And I nearly got hit with a jelly leg curse when I walked into the common room!”

“Is everyone alright?”

Magnus nodded. “Those two will be spending their weekend cleaning out the potions room with me.” They stopped at the bottom of the stairs and Magnus turned to face Alec, placing a hand on the Hufflepuff’s arm. “Alec, about last night-“

“I thought we were going to talk about this later?”

“And we will,” Magnus answered. “But I just wanted to say one thing.”

“And what’s that?”

Magnus took a step closer and smiled at Alec. “I enjoyed being able to wake up with you next to me, Alexander, and I hope that perhaps it doesn’t have to be a one time thing.”

Alec felt himself smile as well and leaned down to press a soft kiss to Magnus’ cheek. His lips lingered for a moment before he pulled away. “I do like you Magnus.”

“And I haven’t exactly been shy about how I feel about you.”

Alec opened his mouth to say something but at that moment his stomach chose to growl making both of them laugh. “Let’s get some breakfast, Magnus, and we’ll talk later.”

Hours later, Alec was in the middle of teaching a class when the door opened. Alec paused momentarily, confused when no one came in until he spotted Chairman Meow walking down one of the aisles towards his desk, with a rolled up piece of parchment in his mouth.

The students started whispering as the cat jumped up, set down the letter and curled up on his desk. Alec sighed and tapped the board bringing their attention back to him. “Yes, that is Chairman but right now you should be focusing on the lesson. This will be on your next test.”

The students grumbled and Alec continued his lesson. Once he was done and had given them all homework to work on, then he sat down at his desk and pet Chairman. “Let’s see what your owner has sent me today.”

He opened the letter and continued to pet the cat, ignoring the students that were whispering. He dropped the letter when they became too loud, giving a stern look two two Slytherins and a Hufflepuff in the back row.

Alec looked back down at the letter and grabbed his quill. Magnus had asked if they could meet by the lake after dinner, and Alec wrote that he can’t wait to see him before rolling the letter back up and tucking it into Chairman Meow’s collar once more. He gently lifted the cat and set him back down on the ground, the cat immediately scampering out of the room and back to Magnus.

“Professor Lightwood?”

Alec looked up at the Hufflepuff boy that had spoken, his hand held in the air. “Yes?”

“Are you and Professor Bane a couple?”

The whole room went silent and Alec sat there for a moment, watching the surprised looks on everyone’s faces at the student’s question. Alec sighed and looked at the clock which told him there was only a few more minutes of class left.

“I think you should focus more on your classwork and less on the private lives of your professors,” Alec replied. “Class dismissed. Have a good weekend and don’t forget that your assignment is due Monday.”

At dinner, Alec couldn’t help but to keep glancing down the table at where Magnus sat between Raphael and Catarina. He was both nervous and excited about their meeting later. Perhaps tonight was the night that they finally found out if they were soulmates or not.

Dinner wasn’t quite over yet when he excused himself. He decided to make his way to the lake early, needing a few minutes of fresh air before he spoke with Magnus. His thoughts were racing inside of his head. There was part of him dreading the meeting, a voice whispering that Magnus wasn’t his soulmate, but he shoved those thoughts down. He liked Magnus, and he kept telling himself over and over again that he didn’t need a mark to decide who was meant to be with.

He heard the soft crunching of leaves as someone approached and he stopped his pacing. He looked up to see Magnus holding out his illuminated wand in front of him making Alec realize how dark it had grown since he left dinner.

Magnus stopped in front of him. “You look nervous, Alexander.”

“I am nervous.”

Magnus smiled, taking a step closer. “Don’t be. It’s just me.”

“I know, but that’s also why I’m so nervous,” Alec said. “I really, really like you, Magnus.”

“Are you worried about the possibility of not being soulmates?”

“Kinda, but mostly because I have never been in a relationship,” Alec replied. He sighed and ran his fingers through his hair, looking towards the lake. After a moment he turned towards Magnus again. “I do like you, Magnus. I’ve liked you ever since the day you helped me find the Charms classroom during my first year.”

Magnus smiled. “I ended up late for Care of Magical Creatures.”

Alec let out a surprised laugh. “You never told me that.”

“I didn’t want you to feel bad,” Magnus replied. “Plus I had the highest marks in the class, so I had a little leeway.” He stepped even closer to Alec and Alec could feel his heart beat even faster. “I have always like you too, Alexander.” He placed his free hand on Alec’s arm, his fingers gently curling around it. “Alexander, I want to kiss you.”

Alec let out a shaky breath, letting an arm snake around Magnus’ waist, pulling the Ravenclaw flush against him. “I don’t care if you don’t end up being my soulmate, Magnus.” His other hand gently cupped Magnus’ cheek. “I want to kiss you too.”

They stared at each other for a long moment, Alec feeling like his heart was going to beat out of his chest. He didn’t know who moved first, but suddenly Magnus’ lips were on his and they were kissing.

His head felt like it was spinning and he could vaguely feel a tingling on his right arm. He briefly wondered if it was his soulmark blooming, but pushed the thought of his mind when Magnus slightly parted his lips to deepen their kiss. It felt too good to kiss Magnus and he didn’t want to stop anytime soon.

Later they would discover that their soulmarks had turned into roses.

[malecsecretsanta]

Merry Christmas, @Makosmonkey!

*****

Christmas Party AU – Yankee Swap

“Alec, stop worrying and start trusting me. You called me for a reason, didn’t you?” Alec rolled his eyes but kept his mouth shut.

“Good. Thank you.” His sister was starting to sound irritated. “Dark wash jeans, one of your work button downs, and the black pullover sweater I got you for Christmas last year. You still have it, right?”

“Yes, Iz. Somewhere. I think,” Alec muttered, emptying his shirt drawers to look for the sweater he definitely hadn’t worn. He didn’t remember donating it, so there was still hope.

“Okay, found it.”

“What do you mean, ‘found it’? Ugh, you really haven’t worn it, have you? You know, I go through a lot of effort looking for things that suit you but aren’t ten miles out of your comfort zone….”

Alec stopped listening.

“Thanks Iz, I owe you one,” he said as he jabbed the END CALL button on his phone. He hated fussing over clothes, but he wanted to make absolutely sure that he made a good impression tonight. Or, at least, a better impression than what his typical wardrobe of well-worn jackets usually did. Izzy knew style, hence his last-minute panicked call for advice.

Alec raced through the shower and threw the prescribed outfit on, combing his hair before heading downstairs to the kitchen. The invitation clipped to the fridge said the party started at 6pm, and it was already 5:57. He stared at the gift he’d picked up that afternoon on his way home, still wrapped in its plastic bag from the store. “Fuck. Wrapping.”

He ran back upstairs to his guest room, shoving the closet doors open and praying that there’d be something he could use. There. A roll of plain green wrapping paper, most likely left over from his sister from when she had stayed with him over the summer. Perhaps he owed Izzy more than one favor at this point.

Back downstairs, Alec hastily wrapped the gift and grabbed the bottle of Pinot he brought for Luke every year, nearly stumbling on his way out the door. Calm down, he told himself. It’s just a party. He picked his way down the sidewalk and around a stray snowbank or two, thankful that at least he didn’t have to worry about parking; the street was already packed with cars.

Luke’s house was, by far, the most decorated one in the neighborhood. Wreaths topped with red ribbons hung on every window and candles shone from every sill. He must have used something like a mile of string lights because every single edge of the house dripped in softly glowing icicles. The giant tree in the foyer was visible from where Alec stood on the sidewalk, glittering with silver and gold ornaments.

But never mind the decorations – Alec had to remember that tonight, he was on a mission. It was time. It was past time, really. He’d just have to buck up and be brave, and do the thing he came here to do.

Right. Here goes nothing.

He rang the doorbell and was immediately greeted by Luke, fashionably dressed in no less than Saint Nick’s signature red velvet suit, arms held wide open.

“Bro-ho-ho! Alec!”

Alec snorted and shook his head. “Really, Luke?”

“Yes, really. Tonight, I’m Santa. Don’t diss the beard man, and come on in.” Alec handed Luke the bottle of wine and followed him through the kitchen and into the den, where a second tree was set up, cluttered with presents underneath. Alec looked around the room, taking in a few familiar faces that were already paired off in deep conversations.

“Ah, almost forgot. Here,” Luke shoved a stocking toward Alec and gestured inside. Alec drew out a folded post-it note with the number seven on it and shoved it in his pocket.

“Put your gift under the tree and make yourself comfortable, Alec. Mix and mingle, like Ol’ Kris Kringle,” Luke chuckled, already backing toward the kitchen to greet his next guest. “Oh, and Maia insisted on taking over Nog duty this year, so… well, just be careful not to stand next to any open flames, if you get my drift,” Luke said over his shoulder.

Alec smiled. “Gotcha.” He turned toward the makeshift bar set up at the back of the room and raised his hand in hello to Maia.

Internally, though, he was groaning. This was the part of the party he always hated. Not this party specifically, but really, any party. Small talk was much more Izzy’s thing, even their little brother Max was better at it. For god’s sake, he was a thirty-year-old man and he couldn’t even manage to attend a party by himself without feeling awkward and out of place. He busied himself by heading to the kitchen to make a plate of appetizers; at least he’d look normal holding some food.

Before settling down in an empty chair, Alec took a loop through the crowd in each room, pretending to look for someone in particular. Well, perhaps it wasn’t pretend. That didn’t mean he actually intended to talk to the person he was looking for. Not right away, at least. He’d have to come up with a something to say first.

Alec looked down at his plate, trying to identify what was in the pile that had been labeled “Mexican Dip” that he’d generously scooped onto his plate. There wasn’t much “Mexican” about it, and the cheese had re-solidified. Maybe it was best to just leave it be for now.

“Ah, alcohol; helping us survive Christmas one sip at a time. It’s Alexander, right?” Alec nearly choked on the bacon wrapped scallop he’d been chewing on. He turned toward the voice and found he was being handed a festively decorated Solo cup filled to the brim with eggnog. Magnus.

Magnus, who was loud, attractive, and always perfectly— though often unexpectedly— dressed. Alec raised his eyes to meet Magnus’, immediately imagining himself melting into a puddle just like Frosty the Snowman threatened to. Magnus was generally flirtatious with everyone, but Alec hadn’t been able to help but watch him from a safe distance every year. Alec had come here tonight with the express intention of at the very least talking with him, and if he was feeling brave enough, hopefully flirting back.

Alec had attended Luke’s annual Christmas party almost every year he’d lived on the street, but this was the first time he’d be attending as an officially out and proud gay man. Well, out. Proud was still a work in process, no thanks to the ongoing icy relationship with his parents. Logically he knew he had nothing to be ashamed about and that his sexuality was nobody’s business but his own, but his mother’s sharp tongue and father’s disinterested tone still tended to cut at him unexpectedly, even a year after coming out to them. That announcement, or actually the resulting blow up, is what had kept him from missing the party—his annual opportunity to oogle Magnus Bane—last year.

Alec stared at the drink in his hand, trying and failing miserably to come up with something to say that wasn’t ‘finally’ or ‘thank god.’

“You looked like you could use a drink; did I read that wrong?” Magnus asked him.

Alec felt completely too caught off guard to properly respond. He thought he’d have more time to plan this interaction, why is his brain suddenly blank?!

Alec shuffled his feet and was saved from further embarrassment by Luke shouting from the kitchen.

“Come one, come all! Get your asses to my den so we can get this party started!”

Alec snorted. It sounded like Luke had been sampling some of Maya’s eggnog.

Magnus touched Alec’s elbow lightly. “Well, shall we?”

Still terribly confused, Alec followed Magnus. Why on earth was Magnus talking to him? Of all the people at this party, Alec had to look the least sociable. There were far better conversationalists; even Dot, his 80-year-old neighbor, could keep a person interested long enough to tell a story or two.

They made their way through the crowd and took a seat on the stairs in the corner of the room.

“All right, thank you everyone for coming. It’s always nice to end the year with all of your faces and all of this booze.”

“Hurrah!”

“Anyway. Thanks for all the presents, you can all go home now.”

“Fo’ real this time! To those of you who haven’t had the extreme pleasure of participating in our little holiday extravaganza exchange, here are the house rules: each of you has brought a wrapped gift and put it under the tree. When you arrived, you were given a folded piece of paper with a number on it. Whichever of you lucky sonsabitches has the number 1 will pull a gift from under the tree and unwrap it for all to see. Because there were some, uh, shall we say disagreements, last year, I will allow visual inspection of the gifts. You may pick them up and gently shake them, just don’t unwrap them until you’ve made your choice. And, Mr. Bane… apparently you need the reminder that there will be NO CHOOSING OF THE GIFT YOU BROUGHT.”

“But I bring fabulous gifts!” Magnus exclaimed, clearly disappointed that he’d been caught out. Alec stifled a chuckle.

“Anyway, the next guest will choose a gift from under the tree and model it, and then that sucker gets to choose to either keep that gift or choose from one that has already been opened. I am placing NO LIMITS on the number of times a particular gift can be stolen, or the number of times a poor soul can be stolen from.”

“Ah, I see we’ve graduated to the ‘Dirty’ version of the game,” Magnus murmured. Alec turned to look at him and found Magnus smirking, eyes filled with glee. Alec raised an eyebrow in question, but Magnus just responded with a shake of his head.

“We will continue in this manner until all those presents are unwrapped and we swing back around to number 1 again – who has that, by the way?”

*Ragnor raises his hand*

“Ok, Ragnor… at the very end, you get to choose from all the gifts, including the one you unwrap”

“Damn it, that means I’m stuck here.”

“You were stuck here anyway, my friend. No one leaves until we’re done…. With both the presents and the booze!”

Alec looked down at the folded paper in his hand. Hastily scribbled on it was the number seven. So much for lucky number seven… he’d only have a handful of gifts to choose from unless someone stole his gift near the end of the game. Magnus peered over his shoulder to steal a glance at Alec’s paper with a smile and a murmured “Perfect.”

Perfect? Maybe Magnus had been looking at something else. But Alec’s attention was quickly drawn to Ragnor grumpily unwrapping the gift in the pile that had been closest to him. He finally managed to get the box open after struggling with a particularly stubborn tape job and a soft-looking throw blanket slid out of the package, piling at Ragnor’s feet.

“Lovely,” Ragnor muttered with great distaste. He shoved the blanket into the corner of the chair he occupied and crossed his arms. “Next victim!”

“Ah ah ah, Ragnor, you have to model it!” chastised Luke. Ragnor looked at him in horror, but then bucked up and shook the blanket open to drape it around him. Alec tried to stifle a giggle, but seeing the grouchiest man he knew draped in a Snuggie was wonderfully entertaining.

“However this night ends, this moment right here has already surpassed my expectations,” Magnus said beside him, shamelessly clicking off a half a dozen photos of Ragnor pouting in his chair.

Alec nervously stood to choose his gift from the tree. It wouldn’t be so bad if he didn’t have to choose the gift and open it so publicly. Something about being on display like this always made him uncomfortable. He reached for a smaller square box wrapped in purple and silver paper – at least it was practically guaranteed not to be a Snuggie. He turned around to unwrap the gift in view of the rest of the party and was relieved when the paper peeled aside to reveal a Bluetooth speaker. Huh. Something he’d actually enjoy taking home for once. “A Bluetooth speaker!” he called out to the rest of the crowd, holding it up for those who might not be able to see it.

“Nice!”

“Excellent choice, Alexander,” Magnus praised him when he returned to his seat.

“Thanks. Although I guess I should really be thanking whoever brought it. This is a pretty cool gift.”

“You’re very welcome, then.” Alec looked up, immediately caught by Magnus’ happy grin. “I’m glad you like it.”

A thought suddenly occurred to Alec.

“Back there, how did you—know my name?” came tumbling out of Alec’s mouth. Great. Perfect. Smooth, Alec.

“Well, I admit that it did take some detective work on my part. I had to ask Luke weeks ago if the brooding tall tree of a man would be attending this year, as I was remarkably disappointed by his absence last year,” Magnus said with a sly smile. “And there you were, brooding away in your corner.”

Alec ducked his head to try to hide the smile rising to his lips. “Well, you weren’t here yet. I had to wait somewhere.”

That seemed to spark something in Magnus’ eyes, at least.

“So it would seem. How have we gone this long without having a proper introduction? I’m Magnus,” he said, extending his hand. Alec took it in his own, immediately relishing the warmth radiating from Magnus’s palm.

“I know,” Alec said. “And I’m Alec, obviously.” Duh.

“Do you prefer Alec, or may I call you Alexander?”

“Uh…” Max’s sarcastic voice echoed in his head. You can call me anything you want, as long as you call me. “People usually call me Alec, but…” Alec trailed off, shrugging.

“Alexander it is, then.” Magnus smiled. “Something tells me that if I ask you to tell me about yourself, I won’t get the kind of detail I’m looking for. What if I were to ask you about this tattoo, instead?” As he posed the question, Magnus trailed a finger along Alec’s neck down his throat, causing goosebumps to chase after it.

“Ah, um. That’s… I guess you could call it a symbol of protection? It means ‘deflect.’”

“Like a shield?” Magnus asked, an eyebrow raised in interest.

“Exactly. I’ve had a lot of … well, my relationship with my parents has never been great. So when I got this one, it was like this reminder to myself to block out the bad things they said. Plus,” Alec found himself continuing, “having it so large and visible it may have really pissed them off.” He smiled. He can’t say he enjoyed that fight exactly, but he did feel freer afterward.

“I don’t doubt it,” Magnus chuckled. “Is that the only one you have?”

“No, I have quite a few, actually. But the rest aren’t so, well, visible,” Alec mumbled, feeling a blush rise. For a moment there, he’d been ready to take off his sweater and his shirt to show Magnus the tattoos on his torso.

“I see,” Magnus’ eyes glowed. “Or rather, I’d like to; at some point in the future. Perhaps this isn’t the time and place.”

Alec flushed and looked down at his hands. His attention is grabbed by the crowd around him laughing in unison; somehow, the game has moved on while he and Magnus been wrapped in their own little bubble. Someone had unwrapped a towel, half of it labeled “FACE” and the other half “BUTT”.

“Now that’s certainly more of a White Elephant gift than one for a Yankee Swap… can you say ‘regift’? Oh, that poor soul is stuck with that one, I’m afraid.”

“I didn’t realize there was a difference between the two games.”

“Ah, then you must let me enlighten you. Popular theory is that the term ‘white elephant’ came from a story about the King of Siam, who was considered to be quite the evil genius. He had a brilliant way of exacting revenge on any courtier who dared displease him – he would present them with the precious gift of a rare albino elephant. At first, the unlucky courtier would be pleased as punch, thinking that they had impressed the King. But little did they know that caring for one of those elephants was a huge and costly pain in the backside and would likely lead them to financial ruin. As such, it was called a ‘fatal gift.’ I believe the story dates back to at least the 1850’s, but as far as I’m aware, no one has been able to verify that such a king existed. Nonetheless, the term still persists in popular culture.”

“Well I’m not sure that towel will lead anyone to financial ruin, but I guess I can’t say it’s a gift I would have liked to unwrap.”

Finally, Magnus springs to his feet when Luke calls for number twenty. Magnus tiptoes through the remaining gifts and makes his selection. He flings the tissues paper out of the bag until he reaches his prize: a poster-sized world map covered in the same scratch-off material lottery tickets are made of. Before Alec has a chance to realize what’s going on, Magnus has plucked the Bluetooth speaker out of Alec’s hands and replaced it with the map.

“Next number!” Magnus calls out as he reclaims his seat next to Alec, ever so closer than they had been before. Alec smirks. “I guess Luke didn’t forbid stealing your own gift, huh?”

“No, he did not make that distinction, did he?” Magnus asks around a wink.

The game continued around them and Alec is pulled back into his bubble with Magnus. They discover a shared love of tv shows (Magnus considers himself a bit of a pop culture whore) like the Runaways and the 100, and discuss how interests of younger generations typically have a bad reputation with older generations, even though the same values and lessons can be found in them. That topic carries them until Luke asks for number twenty-nine. Magnus, caught mid-sentence, raises a finger to Alec in a request to hold that thought and rises to select another package from the tree. He returns with another gift to plop in Alec’s lap and takes back the world map.

Alec is terribly confused.

“What—” is all he gets out before Magnus interrupts him with a wry smile and a finger to his own lips.

“Shhh, Alexander. You’ll see.”

Magnus takes the opportunity to ask Alec more about his tattoos, and Alec eventually stammers that each of the tattoos he’s chosen have both a deeper personal meaning and a purposeful placement on his body. That, in turn, leads to a rather lively discussion about deriving strength from elements of pop culture like music, shows, and movies, and how fictional characters can be inspirational figures in real life. Before they get too far down that path, they’re interrupted again.

It turns out, that in addition to numbers twenty and twenty nine, Magnus also has numbers thirty three and thirty seven. He steals Alec’s gift every single round. Finally, once he has seemingly completed his turns, he takes a moment to whisper in Alec’s ear.

“Luke never puts a limit on the number of gifts that can be brought to the exchange. If you bring multiple gifts, you get to take multiple gifts home. I see it as a way to increase my odds of taking home something I want. And before you ask, I had this plan to steal your gift every turn before I even walked in the door tonight. Speaking to you before the game and witnessing that adorable blush was just the cherry on top.”

Alec doesn’t even know where to begin.

“May I be presumptuous, Alexander?”

“If you must. I can probably handle it. Maybe.”

“Would you like to find some place a little less rowdy and continue our conversation over a nightcap?”

Alec takes a deep breath. “I know just the place, actually. And it has the benefit of being close by, since I don’t think any of these guys are in shape to move their cars.”

Alec helps Magnus with his coat and gestures down the sidewalk. Magnus takes his hand, and the words “cheeks are nice and rosy and comfy cozy are we” echo in his head.

They continue their discussion of how tattoos have helped Alec unlock his truth (with each one he gets, he feels a little more sure about who he is and what he stands for, what he wants to fight for). Magnus responds that he feels that Alec has unlocked something in him as well.

Alec tugs on Magnus’ hand to pull him to a stop in front of his house. “Well, we’re here,” he stammers. Magnus chuckles, clearly surprised but pleased that Alec has led him here. Fuck, that’s probably the smoothest he’s ever been, and he has no proof for Izzy that he came up with it himself.

“May I ask another question, Alexander?”

“You can ask me anything you want, Magnus.”

“Do you believe in the theory of soulmates?”

“I believe it’s possible.”

And reader, he kissed the living daylights out of that man.

[malecsecretsanta]

Merry Christmas, @Taupefox59!

Hooray, happy holidays, Taupefox59! I hope you like your gift! <3

This is an idea that I've had bouncing around in my head since I first watched the show, and this event finally gave me the perfect excuse to dig into it. I hope it turned out well! I love soulmate AUs so much, and yet I haven't really written them all that much in the past, so this was really fun for me.

Enjoy!!

Read on AO3

*****

Aurum Infinitum

Alec is lucky: the first color he ever sees is bright, brilliant gold.

The party is continuing all around him, Downworlders of all stripes and creeds moving and talking and dancing, the music thumping, the lights low. Alec doesn’t notice any of it. His world has narrowed completely. There is absolutely nothing, nothing, except the gold — beautiful golden eyes, with pupils like a cat’s. The color is... well, he has no words to describe it, no way to even come close. It’s alive, shifting and shimmering even as he watches, hints of white and orange catching in the low light.

He takes a deep, shuddering breath in, as though he’d been drowning, and it’s only then that he realizes that Jace has been saying his name, has grabbed his shoulder and shaken him.

“Alec, what the hell?” Jace demands, and Alec rips his eyes away.

Jace, he finds, is golden too — his hair, at least. But it’s different; paler, less vivid, less… just less.

“Uh,” he says, which is not exactly the finest or wisest thing he’s ever come up with, but, well, given the circumstances, he thinks he can be excused.

“Alec?” asks a different voice, and like a magnet Alec’s gaze snaps back to… their target. Oh, God. This, Alec realizes, is Magnus Bane.

“That’s me,” he chokes, batting 0 for 2 on saying things that don’t make him sound like an idiot. Now that he’s looking at them again, he cannottear his gaze away from Magnus’ beautiful golden eyes. Worse, he can’t even bring himself to want to.

“What a lovely name,” Bane says smoothly, taking a step forward. He’s putting up a good front, but Alec’s a smart guy; there’s something about him that’s trembling just slightly, tucked away beneath the surface. The world has narrowed again, to just the two of them, just Alec and the High Warlock of Brooklyn, who has incredible eyes, who has brought Alec color, who —

Who, evidently, is his soulmate.

This had not exactly been a part of the original plan.

—

Alec has never minded not seeing color. He and most everyone he knows dress all in black anyway, and surely the Institute can’t be that impressive; the interior is mostly wood, stone, and glass. There are more important things, he’s always thought, than shade and hue — and much more important things than daydreaming about meeting his soulmate, about color dripping into his world, about true love. He can count on one hand the number of Shadowhunters he knows who can see color, anyway. Their lifestyle doesn’t exactly lend itself well to storybook romance.

His parents, after all, are just as colorblind as him, and their lives are fine. Hodge can’t see color, and he’s okay. Jace, Izzy — they’re in the same boat, too. What does he need with color? What will he ever need with it? His world functions just fine in black and white.

—

“Okay, what is going on?”

Jace sounds absolutely pissed, once again ripping Alec’s attention away from Bane, coming to stand between them, hackles up. Some distant corner of Alec’s mind — a tiny bit of it that’s neither blank nor buzzing with something new and electric, tracking traces of yellow-orange-white-gold as they start to spread around the room and truly populate his vision — manages to take note of the fact that honestly, he’s sort of surprised his parabatai can’t somehow tell what’s just happened.

The thought crashes over him as though a bucket of ice water has just been dumped on his head. How on earth is he supposed to explain this? He stares at Jace, terrified, and no words come out of his mouth. His gaze moves to Izzy, skipping over the Mundane, but his sister is just looking at him with concern and caution and something calculating warring in her face, and he can’t think of what to say to her, either. He looks down at the ground, or at least he tries to; unbidden, his eyes creep up every inch of Magnus Bane, standing there just inside Alec’s personal space, from his fancy leather shoes to the tips of his artfully spiked hair.

“You,” he tries, then chokes on his own tongue a bit. Bane just looks amused.

“Me,” he says. “Apparently.”

Alec flushes, but that, evidently, is what it takes to snap him out of his haze, thank God. “You — we — we should — do you have a safe place?” he asks, because there’s an assassin dead at his feet, an assassin that he just shot, and probably none of them are safe here, if Valentine’s found them. “Or, can you — can you come with us? To the Institute?”

Bane quirks a small smile at him; Alec’s not sure what part of what he just said is amusing, but it doesn’t seem like a cruel sort of smile, so he tries not to let himself get worked up about it.

“I prefer the former option,” Bane murmurs, sounding a bit sardonic and dry. “I’m afraid I’d rather avoid Nephilim at the moment — present company excluded, of course.”

Right. That makes sense. Valentine, after all. And — well — Alec hasn’t quite had time yet to process the fact that his soulmate is a Downworlder, though he’s sure that’s a panic attack or seven just waiting to happen, but at any rate it makes some level of sense that the Institute wouldn’t be the most comfortable place for someone like Bane. They don’t exactly… put a lot of effort into making it a comfortable, accessible place for non-Shadowhunters. Should that bother him more, since he’s now bound to a non-Shadowhunter? Will it, given time?

Alec shakes his head, desperately trying to clear his thoughts. “Okay,” he says quietly, and meets Bane’s eyes again, feeling his entire body shiver, feeling that beautiful gold color all but swallow him up. “Uh, we can go to your place, then. If you don’t — if you don’t mind.”

“Hold on a minute,” Jace says, choosing this moment to butt in again. He still sounds incredibly angry, and confused, and lost, and it makes the rune on Alec’s hip buzz harshly. “We’re not going anywhere without —”

“Jace,” Alec cuts in, tearing his gaze away from Bane again to pin his parabatai with a stare instead. “He’s my soulmate.”

Jace’s mouth drops open. Clary, who’s been mostly silent in this whole exchange, lets out a soft gasp. Isabelle just looks like some long-held suspicion has been confirmed; when Alec glances at her instinctually, seeking support, her eyes are soft and diamond-hard at the same time, and he knows she’s on his side, just like always.

No one seems inclined to actually say anything, and the longer they stay here, in this club, with pulsing music and dark, colorful lighting and the press of bodies all around, with his parabatai staring at him like he’s suddenly become a stranger and his fucking soulmate — his very male, very warlock soulmate — standing too close and too far away all at once, the more tension creeps up Alec’s spine.

“Can we go?” he snaps, and it spurs Izzy into motion; she grabs Clary, who grabs Jace, and Bane, expression unreadable, waves a portal into existence behind them, then steps through it without a word.

Alec follows quickly, not wanting to lose him, almost forgetting about everyone else as he trips as fast as possible through the purple haze, not even caring what he finds on the other side.

—

Portal travel isn’t exactly comfortable at the best of times, and Alec’s already feeling pretty shaken up at the moment, so at first, that’s what he attributes the sensory overload on the other side of the portal to.

Then, as he stumbles a little and regains his balance, his bow still gripped tightly in his fist, he recognizes the shouts and cries of battle, and realizes that there is a lot more going on here than he bargained for.

“Shit,” Bane breathes, beside him, and an instinct Alec can barely stand to think about has him stepping protectively in front of his soulmate; in his periphery, Jace and Isabelle have both dropped immediately into fighting stances, and even Clary looks like she has her wits about her, her shoulders set in a defensive line.

“It’s the Circle,” Jace says shortly. “Has to be.”

“Split up,” Alec responds, by way of agreement, but he doesn’t follow his own command, at least not exactly. He lets Jace and Izzy and Clary peel away, but he stays with Bane, completely unwilling to leave him.

“Bane,” he starts, but he’s cut off before he can say anything else with a finger held up to his lips, shushing him.

“Magnus,” Bane says, smiling at him for just a split second despite the circumstances. “If we’re soulmates, than I think we should be on a first-name basis. Don’t you agree, Alexander?”

Alec blinks, flushing. That’s — fair enough, he supposes. This whole situation has spun completely out of his control so fast. He shakes it off as best he can, turning back to strategy, which he’s more than familiar with. “Magnus, then. Where — where’s the most important, defensible place in this lair? We should start gathering people up and sending them there, and then establish a perimeter around it if we can.”

“Good idea,” Magnus says, his eyes flashing. “My office. My wards are down, somehow, but my defenses are strongest there. Come on.” And just like that, he turns and walks away, not hesitating or waiting to see if Alec’s following him.

The loft is full of the sounds of fighting — Alec catches a snatch of a yell that sounds like Clary, but she doesn’t sound like she’s in pain so much as victorious, so hopefully that’s fine; he doesn’t stop to check — and there are so many rooms and hallways flashing by him that Alec is having trouble keeping track, but he follows Magnus, who of course seems to know exactly where he’s going. It is his lair, after all.

They step into what looks to be a sitting room, and Magnus freezes suddenly in the doorway, gesturing quickly for Alec to stay out of sight. Alec isn’t sure why, at first, until he sees the Circle member, rune obvious on his neck even under long blond hair, who’s standing over a body on the other side of the room. Alec melts back into the shadows even as he nocks an arrow; better to keep the element of surprise for as long as they can.

“My office is just there,” Magnus breathes, only barely loud enough for Alec to catch from behind him. He nods very slightly in the direction of a doorway branching off from the main room, but before he can do or say anything else, the Circle member straightens up, turns, and freezes at the sight of him.

“Well, well,” he says, and even if he weren’t so obviously a member of the Circle, Alec would have hated him immediately based on his voice alone. He sounds smug, and arrogant, and absolutely certain that Magnus will go down just as easily as whatever poor bastard he’d been standing over when they got here. “Magnus Bane himself.”

Magnus doesn’t say anything, but he does knock over a bookshelf between himself and the Circle member. It creates a little bit of a barrier, but more importantly, Alec notices, it blocks off the entrance to the office. The circle member doesn’t seem to notice, though; he just steps forward casually.

“Your magic’s strong, warlock,” he says, smirking, his grip on his seraph blade almost insouciant. “Much stronger than that horned weakling I killed this morning.”

Alec frowns, wracking his brain to try and remember if he’d heard any references to a warlock death reported this morning, if there’s any way they might be able to identify the victim or any evidence that the Institute was at all aware that the Circle has been killing warlocks in the city all fucking day, apparently. Magnus, though, seems to already know exactly what’s going on here.

“Elias,” he breathes, and when Alec spares a glance over at him the pain on his face is obvious. So not even just some random warlock, then, but someone Magnus knows. Knew. People in the High Warlock’s inner circle are being killed.

Magnus sends a gust of magic at the Circle member, which he neatly ducks under; he comes up out of his crouch already smirking again, and Alec, still just out of sight, trains his bow directly on the man’s throat, ready to shoot the instant he stops giving out useful information.

“That was his name,” the man agrees, grinning, circling around Magnus a little. “Lucky for us, he sold you out. Before I took his warlock mark.” He adds the last thing with a smug little jerk of his eyebrows, and that’s even worse than the news that Magnus had been betrayed by one of his own. The casual cruelty of it has Alec wincing, his grip tightening.

The Circle member lashes out suddenly, seraph blade flashing, but Magnus, palms aglow with blue fire, slips sideways to avoid it, the pair of them still circling around each other, occasionally lashing out and then falling back into a stalemate.

“Cat’s eyes,” the man drawls, staring across at Magnus, his expression slowly twisting out of a smarmy smirk and into something much more harsh and cruel. “Be a nice addition to my collection.”

It takes a moment for the words to process, just a split second in which Alec sees Magnus’ beautiful golden eyes flash for the first time in his memory, less than an hour ago. So little time, and already the instant he realizes exactly what the Circle member is saying, he no longer cares if the man might give up any more information, or whether or not Magnus can take him down on his own, which he almost certainly can. The arrow is flying before Alec even thinks about it.

It goes straight through the man’s throat, thankfully preventing him from saying any other things that Alec might have to kill him for. He’s dead before he hits the ground.

There’s a beat of silence, and then a little bit of tension bleeds out of Magnus’ shoulders, and he takes a few steps and leans over to examine the corpse.

“Well done,” he says. He looks over his shoulder at Alec as he says it, and there’s an odd gleam to his eyes that wasn’t there a few moments ago.

Alec’s brain is basically turned off right now, as he stares down at his arrow sticking out of a fellow Shadowhunter’s throat. Circle member or no — and Alec has no doubts at all that the man deserved to die — it’s not a sight he’s precisely used to. He’s not thinking about what he’s saying at all, which is probably why what comes out of his mouth is, “More like medium rare.”

He freezes immediately afterward, more than a little horrified with himself, or at least with his subconscious — this is very much not the time for stupid puns. Magnus, though, looks shocked and a little delighted.

“Oh,” Alec stammers, before Magnus gets a chance to say anything, because there’s already a tiny little grin fighting to take over his face and good God that’s not what they need to be focusing on right now, no matter what warm feeling is creeping through the pit of his stomach at the idea that he put that look there. “Uh, we should really… you know… probably get…” He gestures towards the entrance to the office, now secured, and the rest of the lair, and then lets his hand fall limply to his side.

“Right,” Magnus says, but he’s still grinning a little. “We should join the party.”

“Right,” Alec agrees, and takes the excuse to all but run away.

—

“Well,” Jace says about an hour later. “I guess that’s taken care of.”

They’ve gathered all of the Circle members — either dead or very, very thoroughly restrained — in Magnus’ living room. Standing around staring down at them is a bit morbid, and Alec turns away, only to be met with Magnus staring at him instead.

“You and I should talk,” he says. His voice is quiet, and his tone subdued enough that the words are clearly meant for Alec alone, which of course means that everyone else is none-to-subtly eavesdropping.

“I…” Alec says, hesitating for just a moment. “We need to get back to the Institute. We have to report this attack, and the presence of Circle members. They’re getting bolder if they’ll just come after the High Warlock like this.”

“What about my memories?” Clary interjects, frowning. Alec shoots her a glare — people have died tonight, they have bigger fish to fry, and she’s already on his last nerve anyway, and can’t she see that he and Magnus are trying to have a semi-private conversation, here? — but before he can say anything, Magnus holds up a placating hand.

“I’m going to do all I can to help you with that, Clary, I promise,” he says reassuringly. “But not tonight. I’m going to have to move my lair, and up security again, and try and check in with the rest of my people, and…”

Clary takes a look around the destroyed lair and nods slowly, looking a little chastised. “Well… we’ll come back later, then.”

Magnus smiles at her, but then his eyes slide across to Alec and his expression deepens a little. The smile shrinks, but reaches his eyes more, though there’s something a little bit reserved lurking just below the surface.

“I think Alexander and I have a few things to discuss as well,” he says, and Alec feels the strangest urge to shiver at the way Magnus’ voice curls around his full name — a full name that’s kind of always irritated him, but now sounds sweet and smooth as honey.

“Right,” Alec says a bit gruffly, and keeps his eyes slightly downcast to avoid either having to make eye contact with Magnus or seeing whatever expression of mischievous joy Izzy’s face is doubtless contorting itself into at the moment. “I’ll come by tomorrow, and we can talk — and,” he adds, when Clary opens her mouth in his periphery and looks like she’s about to protest, “make arrangements to get the Mundane her memories back.”

“All right,” Magnus says, his voice going just a little bit soft. “I’ll see you tomorrow, Alexander.”

After everything, the walk out of Magnus’ lair is almost anticlimactic. Alec leads the way, not wanting to even have the ability to look back over his shoulder, not wanting to have to admit to himself that he wants to, and everyone else follows more or less quietly behind. They’re almost halfway home before he stops them, drawing everyone around him with a quick gesture.

“Look,” he says, quietly but intensely. “I know this goes without saying for most of you” — he takes the opportunity to shoot Clary a glare, which she returns — “but no one at the Institute can know fucking anything about — about me and Magnus. Not even Hodge. Not anyone.”

“Of course,” Izzy says reassuringly.

“We’ve got your back, Alec,” Jace adds, and claps a hand onto Alec’s shoulder reassuringly. It’s funny; earlier today, even, that contact might have made him shiver a little. Right now, he almost feels distracted.

Even Clary nods, though, and mutters something about knowing how to keep a secret, and the rest of the way home, no one speaks. They give a heavily sanitized version of their mission report, and no one really says much of anything then, either, except to provide descriptions of Circle members or explain away why they haven’t got Clary’s memories back yet. Alec goes back to his room and lays on the bed and counts all the colors that he can now make out on the ceiling, and when he falls asleep, he dreams in gold.

—

“It’s good to see you,” Magnus says the next day, as he leads Alec through a lair that’s almost unrecognizable when it’s not half-destroyed and full of Circle members. “I was — and I hope you’ll forgive me for saying this — almost afraid you wouldn’t come.”

Alec doesn’t blame him at all for saying it; he had, after all, almost talked himself out of it. Admitting to that doesn’t seem like the best idea at the moment, though. He follows Magnus wordlessly to a living room that no longer contains a pile of Circle members and accepts the drink that’s pressed into his hands with relative grace.

“So,” he says after a moment, tapping one finger against the side of his glass. He can’t seem to think of anything else to say, though, his mind blank and fuzzy with something that’s just this side of anxiety; he opens and closes his mouth a few times, glances at Magnus, and says nothing.

“So,” Magnus repeats. He’s smiling a little, but it doesn’t quite look real, at least not all the way through. He looks — God, Alec realizes suddenly, he looks nervous. The amount of relief that floods through him at the thought probably makes him a bad person. “I suppose we have a lot to talk about. More than you realize, actually.”

Alec frowns. That… doesn’t necessarily sound good. Magnus sure sounds none too pleased about it, anyway, and won’t quite meet his eyes as he says it. “What do you mean?”

There’s a beat of silence, both of them standing in Magnus’ living room holding drinks they haven’t touched, not quite making eye contact. Soulmates. Alec feels the ball of nerves and worries and stress in his chest tighten. Then Magnus sighs and looks at him straight on, and smiles again, that same almost-but-not-quite smile.

“It’s… different for warlocks,” Magnus hedges, in a voice that suggests he’s trying to pretend something’s not a big deal when it really is, like he’s forgotten that this is Alec, who — no matter how impossibly — knew him immediately and knows him now and will always know him.

“Different how?” Alec asks, and he’s all too aware that the frustration is bleeding into his tone even though he’s trying hard to keep it out. Maybe Magnus thinks he already understands, at least in part, what the realities of having a soulmate are for warlocks, but the Clave’s records on this sort of thing aren’t complete, and even if they were, Alec hasn’t looked. He didn’t look earlier in his life because he couldn’t have ever imagined needing to know, and he hasn’t looked now because of… well, this. Because of the way Magnus is looking at him, and the sheer intensity with which Alec wants to hear it in his words, from his lips.

Magnus takes a deep breath and shuts his eyes.

“I’ve seen in living color since I was born,” he says quietly. “That was the first sign, actually, that I wasn’t — normal. Human. But, since no one else could verify what I saw or didn’t see, they wrote it off as just an overactive imagination, or me not really understanding the whole concept. Later, when…” He gestures to his eyes, and his mouth twists. “As I grew, everything started to become more obvious. My mother became convinced that my eyes themselves were cursed. She realized that I’d been telling the truth all along about seeing color, but thought it was because I could never have a soulmate, because — because I was something evil. Because of who — what — my father was, what he did to her, what I was.”

“Magnus,” Alec whispers, becuase it’s the only thing he can think to say. He gets a small smile in return — slightly bitter, but mostly just wistful.

“I learned better in time, of course,” Magnus reassures him, reaching out to squeeze Alec’s hand lightly. “There was an older warlock, Ragnor Fell, who took me in, and who later became one of my closest friends. He was the first one to — to really explain it to me. It’s…” He hesitates, and Alec’s already-racing heartbeat kicks up another notch. “Alexander, I — I know I should have told you this sooner, and I’m so, so sorry that I didn’t. This has all happened so fast, and I —”

“Magnus, hey, hey,” Alec interrupts. “It’s been less than 24 hours, I think whatever it is is probably forgivable.” This time he’s the one to give Magnus’ hand a gentle squeeze, only slightly tentative.

Magnus shudders at his words, though, and Alec feels his heart drop in concern.

“No, Alexander, you don’t understand, it’s —”

“Then tell me,” Alec insists, and Magnus looks at him with fear and something else too, like fond exasperation.

“Alexander, warlocks are — bound together, magically, with our soulmates,” he says very slowly, as though expecting each and every word to be the one that finally sends Alec screaming off into the streets. “In ways that mundanes and Nephilim, and even other Downworlders… aren’t.”

Bound. The word makes him shiver, though he isn’t quite sure why. “What ways?”

“Magically, and mentally, and… Physically,” Magnus admits, his voice very grave. “Our — when it’s two warlocks, our magical signatures blend, and no matter what race, our lives are literally bound together. I — I felt it happen, when I saw you. Like something I’d always been missing had finally snapped into place.” He smiles, almost despite himself, and Alec’s blood sings at the sight.

“What does that mean?” he whispers, eyes locked on Magnus’ smile, as he leans in closer. “We’re — we can’t be separated, or something? I — I don’t understand.”

“In a manner of speaking.” They’re back to deflection again, apparently. Beautiful smile or not, Alec could scream.

“Magnus.” And he’s certainly not above begging. “Please.”

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, Alexander, it’s just —” Magnus’ eyes are shut tight. “I’m absolutely terrified that you’ll hate me.”

His voice is low, and quiet and raw, like it’s being ripped out of him. Alec’s shaking his head and cupping Magnus’ face between his hands before he even realizes what he’s doing.

“Magnus, no, I —” He laughs breathlessly, half-hysterically. “This might sound crazy, soulmate or not, because we’ve only known each other for a day, but I don’t think I could ever hate you.”

It hangs in the air between them, desperate and vulnerable. Magnus shudders as the last bit of his resistance finally breaks down.

“Our life forces, if you will, are bound,” he says, “linked. As you die, I will die. And as long as I live…”

He can’t seem to finish the sentence, but Alec doesn’t need him to, and probably wouldn’t be able to hear it anyway over the blood pounding in his ears.

“But you’re immortal,” he blurts, the only thought in his buzzing head coherent enough to be spoken aloud.

Magnus laughs, but it sounds absolutely wrecked. “Yes, well. Now you are too.”

Immortal. An eternity, theoretically, with the man in front of him, who is still nearly a stranger, and yet who is more familiar than anyone he’s ever known — who is his soulmate. Something he never thought he’d get to have for even a day, let alone… “I,” he tries, then swallows, then tries again. “I think I’m going to need — time. With that. But, Magnus,” he adds, seeing the fear still stiffening Magnus’ shoulders and needing to make it absolutely clear, “I’m not mad.”

He really, fully realizes that it’s true only as he says it, and really, fully realizes how badly Magnus needed to hear it only as he watches it slowly start to sink in, tracking every shift of emotion in Magnus’ eyes.

“Well,” Magnus says after a moment, smiling at him softly. It lights up his whole face, and Alec feels himself relax a fraction at the sight. “I’m sure you probably have some sense of how glad I am to hear that.”

“Yeah,” Alec says, his own voice coming out quieter than he’d expected. It feels appropriate, somehow, like there’s some soft hush around them now that he can’t possibly disturb.

There’s a heavy moment where neither of them says anything, and Alec catches himself trying to count the shades of gold in Magnus’ eyes and failing. Maybe he’ll manage it eventually, he thinks, feeling a thrill of something between terror and excitement, sometime in the suddenly endless lifetime stretching out before him.

“We should go on a date,” he blurts suddenly, and Magnus actually startles at the sound. He looks immediately pleased, though, leaning into Alec’s space just a little bit more, smiling up at him.

“That,” he says, “is an excellent idea. How do you feel about Ethiopian food? I know the most wonderful little place…”

He almost immediately launches into a description that’s miles beyond Alec’s culinary expertise, but Alec’s more interested in watching his mouth and listening to the rise and fall of his voice as he talks anyway. It’s really still too soon to tell where this whole thing will go, he thinks, and it really is going to take him some time — probably quite a bit of time — to come to terms with the fact that he’s apparently now immortal. He’s certain that hasn’t even really begun to sink in yet at all, and when it does, he’ll probably have at least one breakdown over it.

But, in the meantime, Magnus is here, warm and effusive and so, so colorful. And right now, in this moment, Alec decides that that is much, much more than he could ever have thought to ask for.

[malecsecretsanta]

Merry Christmas, @prayformalec!

Read on AO3

*****

Before The Day Is Done

It’s like everything is happening in slow motion and Nathan is helpless to do anything but turn around and see the worst sight he could imagine. A whimper escapes his lips as he sees the escaped killer pull its bloodied knife from James’s chest--

Alec curses as someone knocks on his door. He’s right in the middle of the climactic scene of his latest book-- the last in his bestselling trilogy-- but he switches tabs on autopilot, calling for whoever was outside to enter.

Isabelle walks into his office with a manila folder stuffed with paper. He sighs internally and knows that it’ll be awhile before he gets back to his Golden Labyrinth universe.

“Good evening, hermano,” Isabelle says. “I just wanted to run by some prototypes that I’ve been working on the past few weeks. I know that our new budget goes through next month and I wanted to update you on where I’ve allocated most of my January funds.”

Alec accepts the folder that Izzy hands over and goes to the pair of chairs in front of the fire. They spend an hour discussing weapons and projections and all the while, half of Alec’s mind is on his book.

Isabelle must notice that he’s preoccupied because she slaps his shoulder as the fire dies down. “What’s up with you?”

“What do you mean,” Alec asks, shifting a little in his seat.

“I know that look. What’s going on with your book?”

Sighing, Alec runs a frustrated hand through his hair. “You mean besides you interrupting me just when I reached the most important scene in it?”

Isabelle just looks at him expressionless and he sighs again. “I know that I’m going to need some specialized information on chemistry and healing medicine for the next chapter and I’m not having any luck on the internet.”

“Why don’t you just email your pen pal,” she asks with a raised brow.

Shoving himself out of his chair, Alec rolls his eyes as he heads to his desk, sitting down and waking up his computer. He’d clicked over to his email tab and can’t help the smile that comes over his face as he sees the latest unread message.

“Oh, I’m sorry. Has he beat you to it?”

Alec spares a second to glare at Isabelle before focusing back on the computer screen.

Good evening Alexander,

Thank you for sending that book on Shadowhunter rituals. While not quite as elucidating as I was hoping, it did make for an interesting-- if dry-- read. I hope that everything is going well on your end and that you have exciting plans lined up for the weekend.

Best,

Magnus Bane

High Warlock of Brooklyn

“Oh, since when does he call you Alexander?”

Alec startles as Izzy’s voice sounds right in his ear and his head whips up to see her reading over his shoulder with a maniacal gleam in her eye.

“We abandoned formality a couple of years ago. You know that,” he says dryly.

Sighing, Isabelle wanders over to the door. “If only the Clave knew that it’s golden boy has been keeping up a correspondence with the dastardly High Warlock of Brooklyn for over half a decade.”

“It started as purely professional,” Alec protests.

Laying a hand on the door knob, Isabelle looks back at Alec, laughing. “Yeah, and you still have that thread of professionalism in place. But you two also talk about much more than that. How in the world haven’t you ran into him yet,” Izzy wonders.

Alec shrugs. “Magnus is always so busy and my schedule is always so hectic that it’s just best to talk through email or fire message. I don’t know how I’ve always missed him when he comes by to update the wards, though.”

Isabelle doesn’t say anything for a minute, taking her time to study Alec. “Who knows,” she finally says. “Maybe one day-- before you’re so much dust in the City of Bones-- you’ll finally meet.”

She leaves without another word and Alec sits in his chair, staring at the space she’d just left, brooding.

He can’t deny that he’s thought about meeting Magnus a lot in the past several months. Every time he thinks to suggest to meet up, though, something holds him back. A part of him thinks that whatever this is between them would be ruined if he finally had a face to put to the name. There’s something private about his relationship with Magnus. Throughout the years-- since Alec had taken over as Head of the Institute when he turned eighteen-- things had morphed into something more personal.

The two of them have talked everything from travel to the idiocy of the Clave-- though Alec has had to put his diplomatic skills to the test to get his point across while still maintaining surface level piety to his superiors.

After all, his email uses Clave servers.

As Alec turns back to his word document, though, he has to admit that Isabelle’s idea has some merit. Alec has regularly asked Magnus about his background in potions and chemistry, using them in his books.

With a sigh, Alec switches back to the email tab and clicks reply.

Magnus,

I’m sorry the book couldn’t be more helpful and I’ll look for the return courier. You know my usual weekend plans-- my work as Head of the Institute never ends.

I did have a question, though, and it requires your science expertise. Hypothetically, if someone was stabbed through the chest, what potions would you create and what are their ingredients?

Thanks,

Alec

Head of the New York Institute

Alec hits send before he can think about it too much. He goes back to the latest chapter of Dance Through the Storm. He’s just getting to the part where Nathan is carrying James into the ER when he gets a notification of a new email.

Opening his email, he’s expecting the latest update from the New Orleans Institute on how they’re dealing with their attempts to establish peace treaties with their downworlder populations.

However, it looks like Magnus was particularly quick to respond to his email.

Alexander,

You know what they say about all work and no play, don’t you? While I know that shadowhunters are tragically lacking in any sense of fun, I do wish that you’d take care of yourself a bit better. I’d hate for the best damn leader that Institute’s ever seen to collapse under the weight of all that expectation.

Speaking about your question-- why don’t you come over later this week and I can walk you through the process? I’m restocking my inventory tomorrow and plan on making a few potions in preparation. What you’ve asked about is included.

Let me know either way.

Best,

Magnus Bane

High Warlock of Brooklyn

Alec reads the email twice through before letting out a breath. He feels anticipation thrumming through him at the invitation and it doesn’t vanish no matter how hard he tries to shove it down.

He’s looking forward to meeting Magnus in person. While there’s still some anxiety lurking underneath it all, it feels almost inevitable.

Truth be told, he’s always felt drawn to the High Warlock. Magnus had been the only downworlder to acknowledge the change in leadership first. He’d been surprising magnanimous in wishing Alec a successful tenure and providing his contact information if he ran into any problems.

Alec had fire messaged him within the week when he’d had to deal with a rogue warlock poisoning mundanes-- and that had just been the tip of the iceberg. When he’d first been promoted, it had been a dizzying year. Alec had felt like his head was constantly underwater with just enough time to draw a quick breath before he was inundated with something else.

The learning curve had been steep and he’d been fighting against everyone, it had seemed at the time: his parents with their biting criticism and suggestions, his peers who had an issue taking orders from someone-- a Lightwood-- years younger than them, and a Clave who were stuck in the past.

It didn’t help that Alec had yet to meet his soulmate. Shadowhunters were known to have some of the shortest timers out of all the species-- they lived fast and died young and their generations were notoriously short.

Alec hadn’t looked at his timer since he’d taken over from Maryse and Robert. It wasn’t a big deal that Alec was gay-- the timers made it clear that all manner of orientations were perfectly fine.

No, it was a dual-edged decision. Alec had been working so hard for so long that he didn’t have time for a distraction. He didn’t need to add falling in love-- finding the one person destined by Raziel for him-- when he was up to his goddamn eyeballs in mission reports and Clave mandates.

He could admit that it was a personal decision, too. Alec knew privately that he was a hopeless romantic. There was a part of him that yearned to meet his other half. Still, there was another part that feared that it was all a grand joke. Sometimes, he couldn’t help but scoff at the thought.

One person in the entire universe meant for him, Alec Lightwood. It seemed too good to be true.

No, it’s been over five years since Alec looked at the timer. At any rate, he figures that he would just know when he met him.

Timers counted down to when soulmates first laid eyes on each other. Alec has privately ruminated that it would feel like the earth had ground to a halt, that the world would fall away when he first met his soulmate.

But that was a problem for another day.

Alec sends a quick reply to Magnus, proposing a Friday morning appointment, and shuts down his computer. Looking at his watch, he grimaces as he sees that it’s already half past nine.

He stands up from his desk, stretching out his back, and grabs his coat.

The corner pizza shop closes in half an hour and Alec takes out his cell, pressing speed dial as he turns the lights out in his office.

Alec knocks on the door to the red bricked building, looking down at his phone to confirm that the address is correct.

“Good morning. Alexander, I presume?”

Alec looks up from the phone as the voice filters out from the intercom. Moving closer, he replies, “Magnus?”

“Welcome, darling.” Alec hears the latch of a door before Magnus continues, “Come right on up. My apartment is on the top floor, Penthouse One.”

The connection goes dead a second later and Alec slowly opens the front door to the building. It looks remarkably nondescript for being the home of one of the most powerful warlocks in the world but Alec smiles a little as he supposes that’s probably the point.

The lobby of the building is well done in muted tones with unpredictable splashes of color. Making his way to the elevator, Alec looks down as his phone vibrates with a text.

Knock em dead! Remember, Magnus is just as scared of you as you are of him.

Alec rolls his eyes at Izzy’s text. He wasn’t nervous to meet Magnus. Really, it was absurd that they had gone so long without officially meeting in the first place. It was just different and Alec wasn’t sure how to approach things-- should he treat Magnus as a leader first or as his unexpected friend and confidante that he’d grown into.

The elevator opens up on the top floor. Just as Alec approaches the apartment, the door swings open to reveal a smiling Magnus.

Alec does a double take and his step falters as his mind short circuits.

Magnus looks good. There are blond streaks in his hair and his shirt is red with a swirling pattern of gold shot through. He looks dressed for a day at home and Alec appreciates the look very much.

“Alexander, thank you for coming,” Magnus says warmly, gesturing him inside.

“Thanks for inviting me,” Alec says distractedly as he steps over the threshold and takes in the loft. It looks how Alec imagined it-- it’s a mishmash of antiquities with more modern pieces. It’s bold yet comfortable and Alec immediately feels at ease in the space.

Alec hears the door close behind him and then Magnus steps up to his side, leveling him with a look.

“I was starting to think I’d never meet the infamous Head of the Institute-- and more’s the pity, too, since he was practically in my backyard.”

Pulling his attention from his surroundings, Alec sends him an amused glance. “First of all, I had no idea I was considered infamous. Secondly, you could have met me years ago. You only had to ask,” he says dryly.

Magnus waves that away, heading towards his drink cart. “Your reputation precedes you, you have to know that. You’re the first shadowhunter-- let alone Head of the Institute-- to petition for more extensive downworlder rights in millenia. By all accounts you’re devilishly handsome yet stubbornly off the market.”

Pouring a generous amount of something into a martini glass, Magnus looks up at Alec with a grin. “Plus, how was I to meet with you when you’re always so damned busy? You’re always shut away in your office when I visit or out of the Institute altogether on business. You’re a hard man to keep track of, darling, and if I didn’t have our correspondence I don’t know what I’d think.”

Alec laughs as Magnus walks toward him, two glasses in hand. “My job is pretty boring, you know. You’re making it sound far too interesting.”

Magnus hands Alec his glass and takes a moment to snap his fingers over the clear liquid. Blue flames erupt and Alec can’t hide his surprised smile.

He can’t help but ask, “You know it’s not even noon, right?”

Magnus just sends him a deadpan look. “It’s happy hour somewhere, I’m sure.”

Alec huffs out a laugh but finds that he can’t argue with that logic.

Magnus sits down on the couch and Alec follows. He debates on taking a chair, but ultimately chooses the other end of the couch, too.

He’s just opening his mouth with a retort when his gaze snags on the book laying on the coffee table in front of them.

Noticing what’s caught his attention, Magnus reaches over and picks the book up, handing it over to Alec.

“Have you read anything by Gideon Penhallow before?”

Alec doesn’t look up, concentrating all of his focus onto the book now in his hands.

“I think I’ve heard of him,” he murmurs and can’t stop the faint grin.

“He’s my favorite author,” Magnus exclaims and Alec’s head whips up to see his eyes positively dancing with excitement.

“You’ve read more than one of his books?”

Magnus stands from the couch, moving over the the bookshelves close to the foyer. With his back still turned to Alec, he says, “I’ve read everything he’s ever published at least three times. His books have it all-- romance, intricate plots, and characters that I can really see myself in-- while still being easily digestible.”

He must find what he’s looking for because he slides a book out and turns back to Alec, holding it up in front of him. “The book you have is his latest-- Heavy is the Head. It’s his second in his Golden Labyrinth trilogy and I actually preordered it,” Magnus admits sheepishly. “I’m dying to know how things work out between the two protagonists. They’re in a bit of a tricky situation right now.”

Alec studies the cover of his latest book and can’t help the feeling of relief that washes over him. It was good to know that Magnus read his books-- let alone enjoyed them. He looks up at Magnus when another book is held out to him.

“This is his first book, Missing on the Inside. It’s a standalone novel but I think it’s a good starting place.”

Magnus abruptly stops, though as his expression grows self-deprecating. “If you’re even interested, that is. I didn’t mean to ambush you with book club, Alexander, forgive me. It’s just that I don’t know anyone else who reads Penhallow so it’s rare that I get to discuss my favorite author.”

Alec waves that away, grinning. “With what limited free time I have, I do like to spend with a good book. Are you letting me borrow this?”

Settling down on the couch again, Magnus rests one arm along the back. “Of course, darling. I think that we’ve been friends long enough that I can trust you with a book-- it’s not like I don’t know where to find you.”

Alec smiles but doesn’t say anything, mind whirling. While he can admit to himself that he’s in a bit of a pickle, he can’t resist the chance to hear more about what Magnus thinks of his books. If he has to reread his first novel, it’s a small price to pay.

The conversation moves on and the two of them relax with their drinks-- which Alec only takes a few reluctant sips of-- before moving on to the reason for Alec’s visit.

Tilting his head toward a hallway, Magnus asks, “Would you mind if we move things into my apothecary? It will be easier to describe what I’m talking about if I can have the tools and ingredients in front of us.”

Alec agrees and when he walks into Magnus’s study, his eyes widen in appreciation. It’s as elegant as he’d expect with shelves and shelves of ingredients meticulously organized. In the center is a large desk and as Magnus goes to stand over it, Alec sees a dozen or so ingredients lined up neatly.

“So, you wanted to know what potions or poultices I would make if someone was stabbed in the chest?” At Alec’s nod, he continues, “Was the heart nicked?”

Alec mulls the question over, eventually offering, “For sake of argument, let’s say it was.”

Magnus proceeds to walk him through the steps for a homemade poultice-- he decides to forego a potion that uses any of the more exotic ingredients that the shadow world would know-- and Alec pays close attention.

Without his quite knowing how, he spends the rest of the morning and a good chunk of the afternoon in Magnus’s loft. It’s surprising but gratifying that things aren’t weird between them when it turns face to face.

Alec’s worry that they needed that impersonal divide was for naught.

Looking down at his watch, Alec curses as he sees that it’s way past lunch. Magnus looks over from where he was putting the last of his supplies away. “Do you have somewhere to be?”

“I have a meeting with a Clave envoy in twenty minutes.”

Finishing up, Magnus turns and walks over to Alec, landing a considering gaze on him. “Even if you activated a rune, it would take half an hour to get back to the Institute from here.”

Alec grimaces. “I know.”

“I could,” Magnus starts. “Open a portal for you?”

Alec’s brows shoot up at the offering. “Are you sure? I don’t want to put you out--”

“Don’t worry about that. What’s a minor portal among friends,” Magnus asks.

Alec smiles, ducking his head a little. “Then, thank you. I’d really appreciate a portal to the Institute.”

“Say no more.”

The two of them walk back into the living room, where Alec retrieves his coat and the book at Magnus’s insistence.

“I’ll be looking forward to hearing what you think about Penhallow next time we see each other.”

Alec stares at him dumbly for a minute, adjusting the collar of his coat. “I didn’t know you wanted to see me again.”

Magnus laughs, taking a step closer to straighten out the collar. “It may have taken me six years to meet the Head of the New York Institute, but I don’t think we need to wait another six, do you?”

Looking away in the vain hope that Magnus won’t see the flush crawling up his cheeks, Alec says softly, “No, I don’t think we do.”

Magnus smiles at him and Alec’s struck by the authenticity of it. Alec is well familiar with professional smiles that never reach the eyes. Magnus, however, looks pleased at Alec’s response and he can’t stop the mildly fervent wish that Magnus is happy to see Alec-- and looking forward to seeing him again.

Alec already knows that he wants to see Magnus again.

Motioning to create the portal, Magnus makes it look effortless as one opens in the middle of the living room.

With a last smile of thanks, Alec starts to step through when Magnus’s voice calls him back.

“Alexander.”

Looking back, Alec arches a brow as he sees Magnus studying him, giving him a thorough onceover.

Magnus’s lips quirk. “You’ve surprised me,” he says, reluctantly amused.

“Good surprises I hope,” Alec says, just a little confused.

“Very good,” Magnus confirms. “I didn’t think it was possible for a shadowhunter to be so tolerable. I thought that our correspondence was a fluke because we didn’t have to see each other. Turns out, I was wrong. There’s just something about you,” Magnus muses and trails off, seemingly lost in thought.

Clearing his throat, Alec replies, “You surprised me too, you know.” Magnus’s expressions turns to one of pique as Alec continues, “Every shadowhunter has heard about the Magnus Bane. Turns out your reputation precedes you, too. I’m glad your company was just as enjoyable as your letters.”

Something flickers in Magnus’s eyes as he smiles. “Until next time, then, darling.”

Alec nods in agreement before turning and walking through the portal, back to the Institute and its million tasks waiting for him.

He feels Magnus’s eyes on his back until the portal disappears into nothing.

“Shit,” Magnus breathes, staring at his arm in stunned horror.

Looking back up to the mirror, his gaze roves over his face, the rest of him, looking for a hint, anything to explain why his countdown timer has reached zero.

Magnus hasn’t looked at his soulmate mark in years. The last time he’d unglamoured it from its prominent position on his forearm had been in the early twentieth century. He’d seen the millions of hours and minutes and seconds and hastily replaced the glamor, disgusted and melancholic along with a dozen other emotions besides.

He hadn’t the wherewithal or inclination to do the math-- all he’d known was that his soulmate, whomever they were, was too far away.

It appears that his time has run out, though.

Laughing a little at the dreadful pun, Magnus can’t stop staring down at the stark script on his arm that means he’s officially met his soulmate.

That’s the damned thing about the timers-- they just count down to the first time soulmates speak to each other. Most people obsess over their timers, counting down to the final day and hour and minute, primed to meet the person who’s perfect for them.

Unfortunately for Magnus, He didn’t even know what decade he’d meet his match, let alone the millisecond.

For fuck’s sake, he thinks. I’ve been to twelve countries the past month alone.

A hint desperately, he tries to think if any of the people he’d met with had filled him with any sort of joy or sense of knowing.

He comes up infuriatingly blank.

Standing abruptly, Magnus throws his robe on before going directly to his drink cart by the balcony. He pours a few fingers of his best scotch and downs the glass, barely tasting the liquor.

He can’t help but think that he should just know-- he should have felt something when he’d met his goddamn soulmate.

He’s a High Warlock, one of the most renowned warlocks in the world. He goes everywhere for business both personal and diplomatic and he regularly meets with dozens of people, a good chunk of them heretofore strangers.

It could be anyone, he thinks, just a touch hysterically, and takes another swallow of scotch.

He doesn’t have time to pour another glass before he hears his phone ringing from where he’d left it in the bedroom.

Summoning it to him, he can’t help the instinctive smile that curves his mouth when he sees the caller.

“Alexander,” he greets warmly. “To what do I owe this unexpected pleasure?”

“Hey, Magnus,” Alec says and Magnus does not feel goddamn butterflies at just the sound of his voice, tone relaxed. “I had a meeting cancel unexpectedly and realized that I still had that book you lent me? Missing on the Inside? I thought that if you were free, I could come over and return it.”

Smiling, Magnus settles in his chair by the fireplace, watching the way the light strikes hints of gold in his scotch. He makes up his mind in an instant.

“That sounds lovely, darling. Though, what do you say we get dinner instead? It is early evening, after all, and I don’t know about you but I haven’t eaten anything since breakfast-- and that was hours ago.”

“It’s been a pretty hectic day for me,” Alec admits. “I could go for dinner. Did you have something in mind?

Narrowing his eyes in thought, Magnus offers, “I know this great Ethiopian place a few blocks from me. How does that sound?”

“Sounds great. I can be there in about an hour?”

“I wait with bated breath,” Magnus teases and hangs up to the sound of Alec laughing.

With a quick glance to his grandfather clock, Magnus sees that it’s just before six. Looking down at himself, he grimaces.

He’d just taken off his makeup and changed into his nightwear.

Sighing, Magnus stands up and throws back the rest of his glass, setting it down on the end table with a dull thud.

He decides with alacrity not to worry about his timer. He’s waited centuries-- what’s a little more time, he thinks a little bitterly.

Besides, he has far bigger concerns at the moment-- like what to wear to dinner tonight.

As his thoughts turn to Alexander, Magnus feels something bubbling.

Something that feels a lot like anticipation.

Magnus walks into the bookstore in Lower Manhattan and immediately feels his shoulders relax.

It’s been one hell of a day, but Magnus has had this event on his calendar for ages. While he frequents bookstores-- visiting one whenever he has time on his travels-- it’s rare that Magnus has enjoyed an author enough to attend an event.

As soon as he’d read the Times and seen that Gideon Penhallow was set to host a book signing and reading of his latest book, Against the Wall. It was the conclusion to his latest trilogy and Magnus had gone so far as to cancel his clients the day the book came out, needing to know what had happened to Nathan and James as soon as possible.

It had been everything he was hoping and if the teaser for his next book, Can You See Me, was any indication, Magnus knows that the next series is going to be even better.

No one knew what Penhallow looked like, though. As far as Magnus knew, Gideon Penhallow could be a pen name for all the information that had been released about one of hottest current authors in the publishing world. Magnus had RSVP’d for the event as soon as he’d read the advertisement.

The program this evening is limited to only a hundred guests and Magnus is excited to hear the author himself read an excerpt from his latest release.

He snags one of the last seats-- a client emergency had ran perilously over-- and as he slips into the chair, Magnus sees that Penhallow had yet to appear. Glancing down at his watch, the event is slated to start in five minutes and Magnus goes through his email, answering a text from Catarina while he waits.

Looking up at the hush of the crowd, Magnus freezes, not believing his eyes.

He studies Alec from his messy dark hair to his runeless neck, to the hand tailored suit.

Alec, who for his own part looks equal parts thrilled and nervous as he sits down on the stool in from of the microphone.

“Good evening,” he says into the mic and Magnus’s eyes dart around the bookstore, waiting to see that this is just a joke-- even a parallel universe.

The crowd murmurs back a hello and Alec’s expression evens out and he fiddles with the microphone. “Thank you all for coming tonight to my very first author event.” Laughing with a tinge of self-deprecation, Alec nods at the crowd. “I’ve been overwhelmed with support for Against the Wall- and really, this trilogy in general. I’m looking forward to answering some questions and meeting you all tonight.”

Clearing his throat, Alec reads an excerpt from his book that leads in to an action scene. Magnus relaxes against his seat, crossing his legs as he listens to Alec read aloud. The surprise is quickly wearing off and Magnus starts piecing together the fact that Alexander Lightwood, Head of the New York shadowhunters, was a damned bestselling author.

He winces a little when he replays their first meeting and instead of vague interest, Magnus can now see the coyness in Alec’s answer-- I think I’ve heard of him.

Magnus narrows his eyes at Alec from where he’s sitting, unobserved.

Oh, that sneaky bastard, he thinks, impressed.

Shaking his head, Magnus comes back to attention when Alec starts reading the section when Nathan works on a salve just in case things go wrong at the scheduled meet-up the next chapter.

His eyes widen when he hears the instructions he gave Alec months ago.

When he really thinks about it, Magnus wants to slap both of them. Penhallow, for fuck’s sake, was an old, traditional shadowhunter name.

Alec stops speaking and Magnus claps with the rest of the crowd when he closes the book with a small smile. A question and answer session follows and Magnus listens with interest and not a little amusement as Alec dodges questions about why he’s so secretive and spoilers for his upcoming series.

Soon enough, it’s time for the book signing portion of the event and Magnus waits in his seat, wanting to be the last in line.

It takes a while and Magnus is a little surprised as he watches Alec take his time with every single guest. He looks happy and engaged and Magnus can’t stop his own smile from forming as he sees Alec in-- one of-- his element.

When there’s just a few people in line, Magnus stands and makes his way to the end of the queue. When his turn comes, he slides his book to Alec.

“What happened to your rune,” he asks, amused when Alec’s head snaps up.

“Magnus,” Alec says, voice strangled.

Magnus just raises a brow, waiting for an answer.

“I glamoured them,” Alec finally admits. “It wouldn’t do to advertise them, now would it?”

The two of them stare at each other for a long minute before Alec finally asks, “What are the chances,” in a dazed tone.

“I’d say pretty good, Alexander, considering I consistently rave about my favorite author who just so happens to be a recluse.”

Looking down, Alec takes Magnus’s book and opens the front cover. “And what did you think,” he asks, looking at Magnus through his lashes.

Humming thoughtfully, Magnus watches as Alec starts writing something.

“You’re a wonderful orator, darling, and a master at deflection. You know that everyone thinks you’re some sort of clandestine government agent don’t you?”

Alec just shrugs. “It fits with the kind of stories I write and if it keeps them from finding out what I really am, than they can think whatever they want.”

Magnus just shakes his head as Alec fans the ink to dry and shuts the book. “I can’t believe you acted like you didn’t know who Gideon Penhallow was when we first met. That could have been irredeemably embarrassing.”

“What did you want me to do,” Alec asks dryly. “‘Oh, hey Magnus actually I not only know mundane culture but I’ve been on the New York Times bestsellers list for 43 weeks running?’ You would have looked at me like I’d sprouted horns.”

“Still,” Magnus says. “I can’t believe I’ve known my favorite author for months and didn’t even know it. Think of all the inside information I could have tried to pry from you,” Magnus says in dawning realization.

Alec just laughs and holds out the book for Magnus to take.

They both gasp, eyes widening, as their fingers brush and send a jolt of electricity through them both.

“It’s you,” Alec blurts out, tone accusatory.

Mind still reeling with what’s just happened, Magnus absently asks, “What do you mean, darling?”

“You’re my soulmate.”

At Alec’s words, said on a disbelieving breath, something in Magnus stills, slotting carefully into place.

Of course, he thinks dizzily. It had to be Alexander.

He shakes his head a little to clear it and when he focuses on Alec, it’s like he’s looking at him in a brand new light.

“You’re my soulmate,” Magnus echoes and watches as Alec’s eyes light up.

Alec stands before rounding the table. He reaches for Magnus only to stop in his tracks.

“You--” he breaks off, tongue darting out to lick his lips nervously. “You’re happy about this right? Or at least not horrified.”

At Alec’s whispered question, Magnus jolts into action, reaching out himself to lay a hand on Alec’s shoulder. They both brace for another jolt but this time it’s a current of warmth that runs through Magnus. In an instant he feels like he knows Alec, like he’s found that missing puzzle piece that he long thought he’d lost.

He looks at Alec and it’s a sense of familiarity, like his soul recognizes Alexander on the molecular level.

Giddily, he wonders if that isn’t far from the truth.

“Of course I’m happy about this, Alexander. How couldn’t I be? We’ve known each other for years and I have to say that I like you quite a lot.”

Alec starts smiling, wrapping a hand around Magnus’s waist to pull him even closer.

“Quite a lot, huh,” he murmurs and lays a hesitant hand on Magnus’s cheek.

Magnus can’t help himself. He turns his head imperceptibly and kisses Alec’s palm, grinning when he sees that Alec’s eyes are glued to him.

It’s like a moment suspended in time and Magnus can’t believe his good fortune. It’s true that he’s felt connected to Alec since that very first letter all those years ago. Talking to him-- a shadowhunter, a Lightwood-- was easy. It felt natural. Magnus was more comfortable with Alec than he was with some of his oldest friends and at last he had a reason for that.

Alec was his soulmate.

Magnus’s breath catches as Alec gets a look in his eye that’s indescribable but intentional all the same. When Alec kisses him, Magnus closes his eyes and leans into the sensation.

It’s the best kiss he’s ever had-- which is saying quite a lot-- and something in him rejoices that it’s just the first of many.

Alec swims to consciousness when he feels someone slide his glasses off his nose, when he hears the tiny click as they’re set on his desk. He’s still too tired to open his eyes-- he’s on deadline to his editor not to mention Jace has gotten into at least fifteen cups of hot water this week.

He’s just about to fall back under when he hears a sharp inhale. Blearily, he opens his eyes and sees Magnus, face illuminated by his laptop screen, staring at his open word document.

Alec knows he must’ve fallen asleep at the dedication and he smiles a little as he watches Magnus’s reaction.

“It’s true, you know,” he says, voice still a little rough from his impromptu nap.

Magnus’s gaze switches to him and Alec can’t stop the smile that he just knows is fond as hell from creeping over his face.

“I love you, Alexander,” Magnus says, voice hushed.

“I love you too, soulmate,” Alec says, teasing lilt in his tone.

Laughing quietly, Magnus brushes Alec’s hair out of his face, letting his hand rest against his neck.

“What do you say we go to bed, darling?”

“Yeah, okay babe.”

Alec lets Magnus lead him to their bedroom where he falls onto his side of the bed inelegantly.

Magnus just shakes his head fondly as he watches his husband fall asleep within seconds, his snores a soothing noise in the quiet of their room.

Magnus climbs into bed behind Alec, throwing an arm over his side and shifting closer.

He falls asleep soon enough, bemused with a quiet sort of wonder.

It’s been years and Alec still has the power to bring him to his knees with a few words said in his earnest, sincere voice.

To the love of my life,

I’m thankful everyday that you took a chance and bestowed your standard kindness to a young leader who was in way over his head.

This book is for you. My soulmate, my husband, my partner. I hope that you find a hint of our story in these pages and know that you are my infinite muse, my inspiration to be a better man every day.

Eternally yours,

Alexander

[malecsecretsanta]

Merry Christmas, @magicmagnus!

Read on AO3

*****

this year, i'll give it to someone special.

The morning of December 16th is one of those mornings.

First of all, Magnus sleeps through his alarm.  Then the hot water doesn’t work in the shower so his hair is absolutely not standing up to the best of its potential, and he cuts his finger chopping up fruit for breakfast, and the only band-aids he has are pink Barbie ones, and his car won’t start for five whole minutes because it’s so icy-cold outside.  To top things all off, it’s a Saturday. Magnus finds the concept of having to get up and get anywhere early on a Saturday completely repugnant.

But having a five year old changes a lot of things.  Bea has decided she wants to become a figure skater , this winter –– of course, in the spring she was going to be a gymnastics champion, and in the summer a soccer star, so he’s not putting all his eggs in that basket.  But because he loves his daughter, Magnus will keep dutifully getting up early on his precious Saturdays, and ferrying her to the local ice rink for the weekly ‘Little Penguins’ under-7s skating class.

“And last week Adam said I fell over the least I ever have  and he’ll let me go backwards this week if I can do my wiggly skating for twenty whole seconds,” Bea tells him, straining enthusiastically out of her booster seat to peer through the windshield as they approach the ice rink.  One of her long black plaits swings with the motion of the car. “I’m the best in the whole group at that!”

“That’s very exciting, pumpkin,” Magnus tells her, trying to hide his amusement while he looks for a parking space.  Magnus has all the faith in the world in his daughter, but it has to be said, she is not the best skater of the bunch.  She’s probably settled comfortably at the very bottom of the list.  Still, if Bea is happy and confident and enjoying herself, Magnus couldn’t care less that she falls down more often than she manages to let go of the sides of the rink.  It’s not like he has any vested interest in skating.

The ice rink is busy this time of year, getting busier each week; in the depths of the festive season, it makes sense that more people are coming, Magnus figures.  At the start of fall, the ice rink was always quiet, and only a handful of kids came to the club. Now that they’ve reached the clutches of mid-December, snow is falling outside as well as in the rink, and winter coats and woolen scarves have been brought out for casual use anyway, and everyone’s feeling magic of the season -- couples are cosied together everywhere you look, mistletoe hangs from doorways, sparkling lights illuminate everywhere you turn and the nights come so early that the city seems to be in a permanent state of glittering evening.

Magnus hates Christmas, but he’s trying not to think about that.  This is only going to be his second Christmas alone with Bea, but he’s trying not to think about that, either.  

Luckily, the rink is closed down for other customers while the kids’ group is going on, so Magnus doesn’t have to deal with any annoying couples or festive-minded tourists crowding the place up too much much.  Bea is still chattering excitedly, her legs swinging back and forth against Magnus as he carries her in on his hip. One of her mittens is dangling haphazardly out of her sleeve. Magnus fixes it back onto her hand while he waits for the woman at the front desk to swipe their membership card, overly aware that they’re running a few minutes later than usual –– thanks to his morning, which still has a bad mood settling like freshly fallen snow on the landscape of his mind, and which he’s only pushing back for Bea’s sake.

“Enjoy the skate, Little Penguin!” the front desk lady says, leaning towards Bea with a voice a touch too high-pitched and patronising.  Bea only ignores her and looks impatiently towards the doors of the rink.  Just before Magnus can rush off, the woman adds, “Oh, and there’s a new refreshments stall inside for the holiday season, so be sure to get a themed hot chocolate while you’re here!”

She’s clearly been told to upsell that, but ooh, Magnus thinks.  He does have a weak spot for hot chocolate.

It’s several more minutes of getting Bea inside and lacing her skates onto her feet and making sure her coat is buttoned up to her chin before he can unleash her onto the ice, where she immediately stumbles off towards the gaggle of little kids and their cheerful instructors in the middle of the rink.  Magnus watches to make sure she reaches them without falling on her face, and then, once she does, finally lets out the huge sigh that’s been building in him all morning.

Okay.  They’re here.  He’s still groggy from waking up late and his hair still doesn’t look its best, and his finger is still smarting underneath the Barbie plaster Bea had so helpfully applied, but at least Bea’s not missing her club, and he now has at least one hour to get some writing done at one of the shaky picnic benches that the parents sit on while this club happens.  He’s only mildly distracted by looking up every ten seconds to make sure Bea hasn’t crashed into anything and caused herself grievous bodily harm.

There are several loud screams from the kids in the middle of the ice, but they’re screams of excitement, so Magnus doesn’t stress too much about it.  He sits down on the first bench he finds, takes out his notebook, and begins to write.

It’s only ten minutes later that he admits it: the writing isn’t coming.  It’s one of those disjointed days in his mind, when none of the words flow together and none of the ideas are coming in order –– actually, he's irritatingly been feeling like this for weeks now, the new draft of this novel stopping more than it starts. None of it is helped by the grouchy, groggy mood he’s still trying to fight.  He can feel his hair deflating more by the second, and Magnus’s hair is always the best indication of his mental state that day. His jeans crash horribly with the turquoise shirt he’d grabbed in a rush this morning, and he’s only just realising it.  There’s a stain on the lapel of his coat that he can only attribute to a five year old being set loose with a banana. He just doesn’t feel his best, and the writing knows it.

He decides to take a break.  He’s not giving up, he tells himself adamantly, although it probably will end up with him not writing anything else today.  But Bea’s amused for an hour, at least, and getting a break that long outside of school hours is rare for a single dad.

Then he remembers: they’re serving special hot chocolate today.

Magnus loves hot chocolate.  That, he’s sure, will brighten up his mood.

He hadn’t even bothered to glance around the edge of the rink when they arrived, since it never usually changes week to week, but now that he’s remembered that all of a sudden, he looks up.  Sure enough, on the other side of the oval-shaped ice rink, he spots a little booth -- set up to look like a log cabin with Christmas lights draped across the top, although it’s quite clearly fake wood and the illuminated reindeer next to it just makes the whole thing look hideously tacky.  But if they have hot chocolate, he doesn’t care.

Magnus stands up and bundles his things back into his bag, heading around the edge of the rink, his eyes set on that booth.  He glances onto the ice for just a moment, in time to see Bea attempt to skate backwards and immediately take a spectacular tumble onto her bum, but she leaps back up with a bright grin the next second.

“Well done, pumpkin!” he calls across to her, and she waves before throwing herself back into the fray of kids.  As soon as it’s clear that she’s okay, Magnus heads right towards his hot chocolate. He makes it around the tacky novelty reindeer, leans right up against the counter with an eager tap of his fingers, and the employee turns around, and ––

And.   Oh.

Here’s the thing about the man behind the counter: Magnus has seen him before.  Magnus has seen him, actually, so many times in the last month that it nearly feels like fate, if Magnus were still optimistic enough to believe in such things.  

The first time was just at the bodega on the corner of Magnus’s street, at the start of November, when Bea had a stomach bug and Magnus had to run down there in his pyjamas, utterly un-made-up and smelling slightly of vomit, to buy chewable ibuprofen and the only plain crackers that she wanted to eat, and he’d been so harried that he’d bumped right into this guy on his way out of the store, dropping all his groceries -- which had stressed him out, until the guy just said woah, there, in a friendly if slightly breathless voice, and helped him pick it all us.  That day, Magnus had been too stressed to notice how gorgeous he was, but two days later when he saw the same man crossing the street, carrying a bag of groceries for an older woman who might have been his grandmother, his biceps curling pleasingly as he did it, Magnus had been able to think nothing but tall glass of water.   It really had been too long since he got laid, if he was lusting after random strangers on the street.

The guy hadn’t noticed him that time, but it was only another two days until they’d seen each other again, while Magnus was walking Bea to school, and she’d been swinging off his hand and chattering at a mile a minute, before stopping when she realised her dad’s attention had been lost to the guy jogging down the street -- he’d been in unseasonably short shorts, and Magnus did not make a habit of commenting on people’s appearances while his five year old was there, but damn.   The guy’s eyes had lit up with recognition as he jogged past, and he’d given the littlest wave, a gesture of familiarity Magnus wouldn’t have expected from someone he’d just bumped into one time while looking an absolute mess.  Bea had immediately bombarded Magnus with questions about who he was and not been satisfied with Magnus’s dismissals, and that had only increased when they saw him again at the park the same week; he was stretching out his long legs, in running clothes again, while Magnus pushed Bea on the swings.  Magnus got so distracted looking at him that Bea had to call his name five whole times before he remembered to push her again.

Since then, it’s been a barrage of other coincidences.  At the library, while Magnus was picking up some easy reader storybooks for Bea and the man was carrying some sort of thick hardback; standing a couple of people apart in the queue at the same coffee shop; the busy steps of city hall when Magnus had just got done paying a parking ticket and the tall drink of water man had been wearing a smart black suit that made him look even taller and even more drinkable.  Every time, they’ve exchanged familiar smiles or polite waves, but they’ve never actually spoken.

And now, they’re in an ice rink, and it’s definitely not fate, but at least Magnus will be able to talk to him this time.

“Hey,” the guy says, his voice warm and drawling, as he leans curiously across the counter.  They are, at this point, less than a foot apart. His eyes are hypnotisingly multicoloured close up.  “You again.”

“Me again!” Magnus confirms, in a trilling, confident tone that in no way reflects how much of a nervous mess he actually feels in that moment.  “Fancy bumping into you here, of all places.  So, this is where you work?”

‘Hot chocolate vendor at an ice rink’ isn’t the most glamorous job in the world, nor does Magnus imagine it pays more than minimum wage or comes with many perks, but he’s hardly one to judge.  This man manages to pull off the reindeer-themed apron without looking absolutely ridiculous, which is a miracle in itself.

“I guess so.  I mean, just for the winter break.  I’m in law school,” he explains, which makes a lot of sense, and which is also pretty hot.  Magnus has a bit of a thing for academic achievement.

“Oh, really?” He tries to sound only casually interested, the way anyone might politely ask, but he’s aware that he’s still leaning awfully close across the counter.  “I've heard that's stressful. What year?”

“Final year."  His voice is wry as he adds, “Stressful doesn’t begin to cover it.  I was actually just researching for a torts paper while there was a break in the customers, but don’t tell my boss.”  

Magnus glances around him and notices a thick textbook cracked open on a back counter of the little booth.  He can’t help but laugh a little, remembering when he used to do the same while he was working in a Starbucks to put himself through his English degree.

“Well, I won’t keep you for long, then.  I just wanted a hot chocolate.”

“Peppermint candycane, gingerbread, or holiday snickerdoodle with chocolate whip cream?” the man rattles off, sounding like he’s repeated this list so much it’s burned into his very muscle memory to say it.  Magnus blinks.

“Er.  I’m a big fan of all hot chocolate, so I suppose just whichever one you’d recommend.”

“One holiday snickerdoodle with chocolate whipped cream coming up,” he says, punching something into the cash register, and glancing at Magnus’s hand a beat too long as he accepts the money.  As he’s grabbing a tall red cup from the stack beside the drinks machine, he glances back over his shoulder and adds, “Er, I’m Alec, by the way. Just, you know, since we’ve been bumping into each other so often.”

“Magnus,” Magnus replies, trying not to sound quite as breathless as he feels.   Alec is a very nice name, which very much suits this tall, handsome law student in a reindeer apron who is looking at Magnus a touch too intensely from underneath his thick eyelashes.  Magnus really wishes his hair looked better today. He realises suddenly that his hand with the Barbie band-aid is the one he used to pass over the money, and hates himself the smallest bit.  “Nice to formally meet you.”

He wants to say something else, something wittier or maybe just the tiniest bit flirty, just to make sure he still has a touch of his old game, but then –

“ Daaad!” Bea’s piercing voice appears out of nowhere, and she clatters into the boards of the ice rink behind where Magnus is stood, startling him so much he jumps as her little hands reach across the top.  “You gotta get me a hot chocolate too! You promised!” “Beatrice, pumpkin, there’s still forty minutes left of your club.  You can get one at the end,” Magnus promises her.

But Bea has already been distracted.  Staring curiously over the top of the ice rink wall, which she’s only just tall enough to see across, she points right at Alec and says, “ Hey.   Are you that man Daddy was looking at in the park?”

His cheeks aren’t flushing, Magnus tells himself.  He also thinks he should get Bea a hot chocolate just to stop her from talking, before she can bring up any of the other times.  Hoping that maybe Alec didn't hear that, Magnus just hurries towards her, and realises that one of her mittens is hanging off her hand again, and all her hair is escaping from her plaits, and her nose is running.  He fixes her mitten, and wipes her nose on an old tissue he finds in his pocket. Parenthood really isn’t that glamorous. A little more firmly, he then spins her around on the ice and adds, “No hot chocolate until the end.  Go enjoy the rest of your club.”

It’s not until Bea has stumbled her way back across the ice that Magnus finally turns around.  Alec is looking at him, amusement curling his lips, as he adds a final dusting of chocolate powder to Magnus’s drink and slides it across the kiosk.

“Your daughter?” he asks.  Magnus thinks the fact that she’d repeatedly called him dad makes that rather obvious, but nods.  “Yeah, I remember seeing her at the park with you that one time. I didn’t know if she was a niece or a goddaughter or something, though.”

Magnus is a little flattered that Alec had put in enough thought about him to even wonder at who Bea was.  After he’s done feeling flattered over that, he spends a moment feeling a little sad -- he doesn’t know if Alec even likes men, but if he does, clarifying that is probably him taking Magnus off the table as a prospective dating option.  Not that Magnus is thinking about dating. But if he was going to start thinking about it, he’d start with a cute man like this, except no budding law student is going to want to bog themselves down dating an overwhelmed single dad.

So no, romance isn’t on the table here.  But that’s fine. That’s fine, Magnus tells himself.  And it feels almost close to true, that it’s fine, when he takes his hot chocolate and could walk right away, but Alec keeps smiling at him, doesn’t turn immediately back to his textbook and dismiss Magnus as just another customer gone.

Somehow, Magnus ends up staying right where he is, lingering at the counter of the cheesy little fake log cabin as he sips his hot chocolate -- it really is delicious, he tells Alec, thanks him for the recommendation, and Alec smiles like he’s pleased with himself -- and as much as he knows he should be using this one free hour to be productive, he just can’t bring himself to leave.  No other customers come to get a drink, since it’s just a few other parents waiting outside the rink now, and Alec never tries to go back to his book. So Magnus asks Alec about law school, and his torts research, and what exactly torts is, anyway, and Alec explains it all in wry, exasperated terms, and then asks Magnus about his own job and looks far too impressed when Magnus talks about the historical novels he writes, says I can’t write at all but I nearly majored in history at undergrad, I’m so interested in that –– and they manage to talk about 14th century French kings for so long that Magnus doesn’t even notice the time passing, doesn’t notice that his and Alec’s elbows are inching closer and closer to each other across the counter of the hot chocolate stall, doesn’t even notice that the hour is ending and the kids are dispersing on the ice behind them until ––

“HELLO,” says Bea, so loudly it might even be called screaming, as she thumps into the edge of the ice rink.  Her long plaits swing across her shoulders as she climbs through the exit, and does the slow bambi-walk involved with wearing ice skates on a regular floor right the way over to them.  Then, she sticks her hand towards Alec, barely reaching over the counter but still all intense eyebrows and serious posture.  “I’m Beatrice Bane but you can call me Bea if you’re going to be Daddy’s friend. Who are you and can I have a hot chocolate?”

“Well, it’s very nice to meet you, Bea,” Alec says, shaking her tiny hand.  Somehow, his voice has just the right tone for speaking to a five year old -- not patronising or babyish, but still sweet enough to please her.  Magnus’s heart flutters and he furiously stamps it down. “I’m Alexander, but I have a nickname too, so you can call me Alec. You can absolutely have a hot chocolate, so long as your dad says it’s okay.”

They both look to Magnus in unison, twin pairs of enchanting puppy dog eyes.  As if he can say no to that.

“Just a small one,” he says, voice warning, but Bea beams anyway.  She reaches her arms into the air with a silent demand, so Magnus scoops her up, ignoring how she immediately comes to fiddle with his hair once she’s perched on his hip.  Bea’s small for her age at five, skinny and short the way Magnus was most of his childhood ( the way her mom always was, he doesn’t think ) , and still so easy to hold like this.  He’s slightly dreading the day that she’s too big for him to carry.

Alec smiles at them both one last time before he sets about making Bea’s drink; Bea then restlessly makes Magnus put her down again, far sooner than he’d have liked, and spends the whole minute standing on her tip-toes and peering across the counter to watch her hot chocolate being made.  When Alec’s done, he passes the child-sized cup across the counter, and Magnus hands it down to Bea.

When he then scoops a couple bucks out of his pocket, Alec says, “Oh, don’t worry about it, on the house.”

Magnus’s cheeks go pink, and he’s not sure why.  It’s not like Alec really knows him, and Magnus had paid for his own drink; why’s he now trying to give a gift?  Is he attempting to get on Magnus’s good side, or Bea’s?  It’s not like Bea cares whether her dad pays for something or not, so presumably it’s some gesture towards Magnus, and truthfully, any kind act that relates to his daughter is the best way to get Magnus absolutely fluttering inside, but considering he barely knows this man and is sure he’s not interesting in dating him, anyway ––

It’s confusing, that’s all.  But Magnus is spared from replying, from unravelling the confusing emotion in his out-of-practice-with-flirting mind, when Bea suddenly screeches.

“ Daddy,” she says, and flings herself at his side, holding up one tiny index finger with a pout.  “I put my finger in my drink and it was too hot and it burned me.”

“Why did you put your grubby finger in your drink?” Magnus asks, first of all, as he peers down at her hand.  It’s just a little pink and when he touches the edge of her cup he can tell the milk isn’t really hot enough to scald, so he knows not to be too worried.  Sensing that she’s not getting the sympathy she wants, Bea turns to her newest friend, instead.

“ Aleeeec,” she complains across the counter.

“Oh, no,” says Alec, putting on a very serious face with furrowed eyebrows, and he comes out from the edge of his hot chocolate stand just so he can crouch down beside her, his absurdly long legs folding in a very pleasing way.  “Do you need a band-aid? I have some extra special ones in my bag.”

Bea absolutely does not need a band-aid, and Magnus goes to say that, but her face has lit up and she’s enthusiastically nodding before he can get a word in.  And, well, part of him wants to see how this goes. So he hangs back, drinking the dregs of his chocolate, and watches as Alec digs out a sparkly blue band-aid, which he applies to the non-existent burn on Bea’s finger.  He pats it down extra carefully and with all the care of a serious wound, and then says something to Bea, low enough for Magnus to miss, that sends Bea into a fit of giggles. Alec glances around her, a smile on his own face, and meets Magnus’s eyes.

Magnus’s heart thump, thump, thumps.   Tall drink of water who helps old women carry their groceries and jogs in tiny shorts and is an intelligent law student who likes to discuss obscure history is also incredibly sweet with kids.  Because of course he is. Because the universe wants Magnus to be torn up inside, and want things he can’t have.

“You can come to my birthday party!” Bea says then, out of the blue, and so loud it startles both Magnus and Alec out of their little staring contest.  “I’m allowed to invite whoever I want.  You can bring hot chocolate for me as a present!  Give my daddy your phone number so he can tell you when it is.”

Bea’s birthday isn’t until weeks after Christmas, still almost a month from now, and Magnus has barely thought about her party beyond promising her it could be a tea party with, indeed, any of her friends that she liked.  When he said friends, though, he meant other five year olds from her kindergarten class, not cute strangers in reindeer aprons who her dad is confusingly lusting after.

“Um.”  Alec looks amused, from where he’s still crouched down beside Bea, as he turns his gaze up to Magnus.  He’s clearly wondering how to say it would be very weird if I came to your birthday party but thanks in a language five year olds can speak.  “You know, I might be busy that day, but I’ll give your dad my number just in case, and we can see.”

Bea shrugs one of her skinny shoulders, unbothered.  “Alright. It’s not for ages anyway.”

But she keeps watching, so Alec clearly feels obligated to take Magnus’s phone and key his number into it.  “ Sorry, ” Magnus mouths, feeling rather embarrassed that Alec’s having to humour his daughter so much, but Alec somehow doesn't look like he really minds.  He shakes his head, still smiling, and hands Magnus’s phone back over; Magnus reflexively glances down and sees Alec Lightwood as a new contact, a little smiley emoji keyed in afterwards.

It’s probably a fake number, Magnus thinks, just to get Bea off their backs.  But it’s cute he’s humouring her anyway.

He thinks this is probably when they should leave, stop intruding on Alec, but then, just as Bea is sat on the bench taking her skates off and Magnus is still lingering by the hot chocolate stall’s counter, she suddenly, loudly, unmissably announces, “Daddy, Alec, look!  Isn’t that that plant which makes you have to kiss!  Mister toes!”

Mistletoe.   Oh God.   Magnus looks up, and sure enough, some bright soul far more festive than him has tacked a strand of mistletoe onto the fake log-cabin roof above the counter.  Alec is stood just on one side of it. Magnus is stood just on the other.

Bea’s face is absolutely delighted.

“Oh, no,” Magnus tries to deflect, taking a step back.  “It’s fine, honey, that rule is only for people who want to kiss.  You don’t ever have to kiss somebody just because you’re under mistletoe.”

But this backfires on him.  Bea frowns, looks at Alec, and says, “Don’t you want to kiss my daddy?”  Magnus, mortified, doesn't dare glance around at Alec –– it can’t get much worse than his five year old trying to pressure a guy into kissing him, like it’s not clear enough already that Magnus has zero game.  “Alec, why don’t you want to kiss him? Don’t you like daddy? We can’t be friends if you don’t.”

Groaning, Magnus resists the urge to drop his head into his hands and spins around to look at Alec again.  By some miracle, he realises that Alec isn’t looking like he wants to sink into the floor, or run away screaming -– if anything, he seems rather amused.

“No, your dad seems lovely,” he tells Bea, and then beckons towards Magnus.  “You’re right, we should follow the rules.” And then, in a lower and far more humorous voice, where only Magnus can hear, “Don’t worry, I’ve kissed guys for far worse reasons than this.”

Magnus is sure he’s blushing to the point of ridiculousness and wishes he’d thought to wear foundation that day instead of just his usual eye makeup, but there’s nothing to be done about it now, except freeze on the spot and feel restless and tingly all over and hold his breath as Alec leans in, in, in ––

And plants a tiny, chaste kiss on Magnus’s cheek.

“There,” Alec says, pulling back and immediately raising an eyebrow across at Bea.  “Are we still friends, now?”

“Yep,” Bea decides.  She’s kicked both her skates off and pulled her shoes most of the way on, and for once, her meddling little mind does seem to be satisfied with their actions.  Thank god.

With that, though, Magnus decides it’s definitely time to go, before she can make Alec do anything else he doesn't want to.  And quite apart from that, the Little Penguins hour is definitely up, and crowds of regular patrons are starting to file into the ice rink -- exactly what Magnus wanted to avoid today -- and there’s suddenly other people queuing up at the hot chocolate stall, too.  His cheek is still tingling in the spot where Alec’s lips had touched, but Magnus is choosing not to think about that so that he can maintain his sanity, and he scoops Bea up onto his hip without another moment’s thought.

“Well,” he says, just as the customer waiting for Alec to serve them begins looking impatient, and Alec ducks back into his little hot chocolate stall.  “It was nice to properly meet you, Alexander.”

“You, too,” Alec says, smiling in a way that reaches his eyes, just as warm and lovely as the hot chocolate he's making, but twice as satisfying.  Magnus finally steps back, dodges the tacky neon reindeer, and lets his legs carry him and Bea away. They have a rest of their day to be getting on with, and Alec has a job to do; they’ve distracted him far long enough.

Still, as Magnus walks away, he can’t help glancing back just once or twice.  And when he’s strapped Bea into the car outside and thrown their bags in the back, just before he slides into his own seat, he lets his fingers drift up to his cheek, pressing the warm spot where Alec’s lips had touched.  Chaste as it was, that was the closest Magnus has come to a proper kiss, one not from Bea or Catarina, since Bea’s mom –– over two years past. It’s a boundary he’s been nearly terrified to cross.

Now that he's crossed it, he’s finding that it wasn’t, actually, so bad.  He’s actually finding that, now it’s happened, he can’t stop thinking about it.

Later that night, when Bea is engrossed in a colouring book and Magnus has a quiet minute while dinner cooks, he finds himself getting out his phone.  It’s just to see, he tells himself –– he’s not hanging any hopes on this, not at all.  With his experience of romance in general he can definitely say his expectations are through the floor.

But, to Alec’s number, he sends, Hi :) This is Magnus, from the ice rink! Sorry about Bea, today, she’s a cutie but we’re still working on the social skills. I’ll definitely let you off the hook of coming to her birthday party, but it was nice to properly meet you, anyway!

There, he thinks, that’s pleasant enough.  It’s not quite flirty, but it’s not quite distant, either.  And it won’t matter in the end, because he's sure Alec gave him a fake number.  Magnus goes back to chopping up vegetables for the pasta sauce, writing the whole thing out of his mind.

Except, in the end, it isn’t a fake number at all.  It’s only two minutes until his phone lights up with a reply that sets Magnus’s cheeks flushing, his heart thumping –– and, maybe, just a little bit of the festive spirit encroaching on his fractured heart.

He just can't quite believe that he has hot chocolate, his meddling daughter, and a man in a ridiculous reindeer apron to thank.

[malecsecretsanta]

Merry Christmas, @onthecyberseas!

Just a little fluff and cuteness for you, hope you like it!