#wip: otr | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

carmenlire · 6 years

Text

Off the Record Ch. II

read chapter one

read on ao3

Alec types copy on his laptop just as the overhead announcement comes on that they’ll be landing soon. He’s needs to get this piece to The Times by the end of the day and he’s always preferred writing during flights instead of anything else.

A journalist’s work is never done, not even when they’re thirty thousand feet in the air.

A flight attendant walks passed with a pointed look at his laptop, though she doesn’t say anything. Alec knows from experience that he has five minutes until she’ll be making another round and then he really will need to pack away his computer and prepare for landing.

Taking those five minutes, Alec finishes his draft by the seat of his pants, furiously typing his conclusion just as he sees the flight attendant enter his section of the plane. Hastily shutting his computer and sliding it into his bag, he relaxes back in his seat as he turns his head to look out the window.

He’s only been gone for a few weeks but every time he comes back to The States, something settles in him. It’s home, after all, and fuck knows that Alec is out of the country as often as he’s here.

The landing is unremarkable and thankfully, his is one of the first rows that exits the plane. Perks of being in first class, he thinks wryly, and stands whenever there’s room, reaching for his bag in the overhead compartment.

Hailing a cab doesn’t take more than a few minutes and Alec barely has to think about it before he’s rattling off the address to CNN’s office. While he’d love nothing more than going directly home and crashing for the next twelve hours, he needs to swing by headquarters and get caught up on what he’s missed since he was last in the city.

It takes a grueling forty five minutes to get there as they’re stuck in rush hour traffic and Alec climbs out of the cab thankful to escape, his bag in hand. He’s immediately hit with the sun’s warmth, a little brazen for so early in spring.

Readjusting the grip on his bag, Alec strides towards the glass doors of the building, nodding at the doorman who’s worked there since before Alec was even born.

He passes a few people who welcome him back and he ends up talking shop with a research assistant for almost twenty minutes before finally making it to the bank of elevators. He’s with a handful of people, most of whom look to be interns and he gives them an easy smile whenever they catch his eye with unsubtle once-overs.

They leave on the floor before his and as Alec strides out onto one of the office floors, he’s struck with homecoming. While he loves his unit in Midtown, he’s been part of CNN for almost five years now and this building is just as much home as anywhere else.

He doesn’t run into anyone in the hallway and as he enters his office, he sets his bag down on the coffee table he passes on his way to his desk.

Collapsing into the chair, Alec boots up his computer. The sun’s all but disappeared over the horizon by the time he surfaces, having gone through the emails he’d put off until he was back in New York. While he’d worked his ass off in Norway covering the president’s summit, things always seemed to pile up if he didn’t tend to them every hour.

His stomach rumbles but he’s only vaguely aware of it. He’s much more interested in finishing the opinion piece whose deadline is fast approaching. Thankfully, the flight had been productive as hell and he’d finished the content-- now it was just time to revise.

It’s a couple of hours before he’s satisfied with the article. It’s only about a thousand words concerning the potential ramifications of the meeting overseas and the effect the president’s behavior might have on foreign alliances and while it’s a good piece, that doesn’t mean that Alec isn’t annoyed as he reads over it.

Goddamn but he missed the previous administration.

Hitting send on the email to the EIC at the New York Times, Alec stretches, cracking his neck and muttering a curse at the tension he feels bleeding into his shoulders.

Standing with a groan, Alec leaves his office, heading to the mailroom. There’s a bundle waiting for him along with a handful of ARCs that he’s been sent. He regularly receives manuscripts so that he can review them-- a line from him on the cover of a book is well sought-after, though Alec will never understand why everyone cares so damn much about his own opinion on someone else's work.

Hands full, Alec drops the shit off back at his office before taking the elevator up a few floors to the newsroom. Looking at his watch, he sees that he can catch the ten o’clock news hour and so he slips into the area, watching the night news co-hosts catch the country up on what’s new.

Lydia and Underhill are an unexpected team. They work well together, sharing little jokes that somehow make the viewer feel included. They’re two of TV’s top news personalities and thankfully, they’re also good people when they’re not in front of a camera.

Alec watches quietly, a spot of stillness behind the scenes while everyone else is working to keep things running smoothly. He ends up watching the entire hour. Jet lag is quickly catching up to him and there’s something in the familiar routine of it all that has Alec half-asleep on his feet.

He comes to attention, however, as he hears his name.

“Luckily for us, it looks like Alec Lightwood just landed today. Hopefully, he’ll be making a few guest appearances as our political analyst before he’s off to the next headline.”

Lydia chuckles as she briefly looks away from the camera, meeting Alec’s eyes with laughter in her own. “Who knows, Steve, maybe we’ll even get him to co-host the news with us sometime soon. Goodness knows our ratings always increase when he’s on air.”

Chuckling a little, Alec just shakes his head while glaring half-assed at the two of them.

They wrap up a moment later and as they push away from the table, Alec comes over to their desk.

Smiling at them both, Alec just says, “Really?”

“We couldn’t resist,” is all Underhill says back, laughing as he they shake hands.

“Yeah,” Lydia agrees. “Plus, it’s the truth. Every time your face graces our camera, we gets a ratings boost. Everyone wants their news delivered by someone who looks like he’d much rather be writing his memoir on a Parisian sidewalk than galavanting all over the world reporting on Asshole McGee, etc.”

“Whatever puts bread on the table,” Alec replies easily, even as he grimaces. While he knew covering the president was important and an honor, this particular president made that honor dubious at best and a punishment from hell on some days.

“So, what brings you here, Lightwood? I figured you’d be holed up in your apartment sleeping off your assignment.”

Alec shrugs. “I wanted to come in and catch up on work. Plus, I was on deadline for something.”

“Ah deadline,” Lydia and Underhill say at the same time. They all know how that goes.

“It’s almost midnight,” Lydia admonishes, standing and gathering up her paper. “Go home, Alec.”

“Yeah, yeah, I’m on my way out now. I just wanted to see how you two were doing and catch a few segments from New York’s best.”

Scoffing, Underhill follows the two of them toward the elevator. “Flattery will get you everywhere but I won’t forget that you owe me fifty bucks.”

Alec barks out a laugh as he pushes the button for the office floor. “You’re really going to hold me to that?”

“You bet your ass, Lightwood. You bet me fifty dollars that I wouldn’t make a move on Declan before the month was out and we just had our second date last night.”

Reaching for his wallet, Alec grumbles good naturedly. “Good to know that all it took was money for you to finally get up the courage to ask the PA out. You’ve only been pining from afar for a decade.”

Underhill rolls his eyes. “He’s only been with us eight months. To a tortoise, that’s a blink of an eye.”

Lydia laughs as she leans against the wall. “I lost that bet, too,” she says ruefully. “I thought it would take another eight months for you to even ask him for coffee sometime.”

Underhill just grins smugly at them both and when the elevator doors open a second later, he strides out ahead of Lydia and Alec, throwing out a goodnight over his shoulder.

Lydia doesn’t say anything as she follows Alec to his office. He’d left the lights on and from his vantage point, he sees the New York skyline through his windows.

He loves this city and on the thirtieth floor, the lights make everything seem like a picture, the epitome of New York elegance.

Going over to his computer, Alec skims through the half dozen emails that have accumulated in his inbox in the couple of hours he was aware and decides that everything can wait until tomorrow.

Lydia shuts the door behind her and Alec ignores it in favor of turning his computer off, reaching for his phone and checking his notifications, frowning a little as he sees a missed call from his sister.

“Everything alright?”

“Yeah,” he replies distractedly. “Izzy just called a few hours ago.”

“Maybe you should call her back,” lydia offers innocuously and Alec looks up as he locks his phone and shoves it in his pocket.

“I will when I get home.”

Rounding his desk, Alec walks toward his sitting area. It was nothing unduly fancy, just a few chairs with a long sofa behind a glass topped coffee table. It was hideously modern-- too clean for Alec’s taste-- but it was what everyone expected him to favor and he was too busy most days to remember that the couches were uncomfortable and that glass showed dust much too easily with his travel schedule.

“Alec.”

Alec pauses from where he’d been reaching for his bag, hand hanging mid air for a moment before it drops to his side.

“What.” His voice is curt, a little cool, but Alec can’t bring himself to care. He’d known when Lydia started following him what she’d wanted to discuss and just the thought of broaching this particular topic makes his teeth grind.

It’s part frustration, part anger, part a dozen other emotions that he does his best to shove down every minute of every day.

Settling into one corner of the couch, Lydia shifts a little, crossing one leg over another in a move that Alec recognizes as her power position. Lydia’s serious and she’s trying to project a calm, capable image.

“We can’t keep doing this. I can’t keep doing this.”

Alec doesn’t say anything for a moment. Instead, he sighs before running a hand through his hair. Going over to the drink cart he’d installed a few years ago, Alec turns over two tumblers and pours a splash of whiskey in each of them.

Turning back to Lydia, he hands one over on his way to a chair that sits facing one of his oldest friends.

He sits down and feels the weight he seems to constantly carry shift. It’s a blanket that grows just a bit more oppressive each day and Alec doesn’t have the time or wherewithal to do much about it except let the bitterness grow until it lingers, until it coats his throat in a layer that feels as suffocating as oil.

They stare at each other for a beat before Lydia’s the one who’s sighing and taking a sip of her drink. She hums a little, turning the glass over in her hands, preoccupied. Alec lets her have the silence, even as it stretches his nerves taut.

Finally, Lydia looks up again. She’s wearing a smile that’s apologetic but Alec sees the happiness lurking underneath.

“I met someone,” Lydia says, breaking the quiet that’s draped the room. “His name is John and I think there’s really something there.”

“That’s great, Lydia.” Alec doesn’t have to pretend to be happy for Lydia-- his friend deserves all the happiness in the world and it’s wonderful to watch as she flushes, to see the way she looks so over the moon barely mentioning the man.

“Yeah, I’m really happy.” Lydia’s voice quiets a little, smile dimming as she studies Alec. “I want to take things public, though. I don’t want to hide my relationship and Christ, I really don’t want people coming out of the woodwork to accuse me of cheating. I can just imagine those headlines-- and the slant that would make you the sympathetic cuckold and me the bitchy villain.”

Alec waves that away. “Of course. We both knew this would end some day. I can’t wait to meet the guy who makes you look like that.”

“Like what,” Lydia asks, glaring as if she already knows what Alec’s going to say. With the longevity of their friendship, she probably does.

“Like you’re a cow-eyed teenager waxing poetic about Nick Carter.”

“Well,” Lydia says primly. “He was the hottest Backstreet Boy.”

Sighing, Alec agrees. “Tell me about it.”

There’s a beat of quiet before Lydia’s uncrossing her legs, leaning over the coffee table and laying a hand on Alec’s knee.

“Are you really okay,” she asks, eyes probing.

“Of course,” Alec says softly. “How couldn’t I be when my oldest friend is head over heels for some guy?”

Lydia doesn’t say anything right away, instead squinting at Alec in a move that’s horribly familiar. Finally though, she settles back in her seat and drains the rest of her glass.

“It’s okay if you’re not, you know. We’ve been doing this so long that it almost seems sacrilege to call things off now.”

Laughing a little, Alec nods. “It’s been a convenient arrangement.”

“I don’t have to worry about any assholes coming onto me when everyone knows we’re dating and you get to keep your secret-- or at least have plausible deniability.”

“Win-win,” Alec agrees. “And let’s not forget that it was handy having a date to all those boring ass events. It’s hard as hell attending dinners and shows and whatever the fuck else we need to with company that doesn’t make one want to gouge their eyes out with the soup spoon.”

“Who knows? Maybe this is the jump start you need to find someone on your own.”

“I’m sure,” Alec says sardonically, “That while you go off on your domestic way, I’ll become a confirmed bachelor.”

Lydia frowns as though she’s upset. “Don’t act like that, Alec.”

Alec just raises a brow, sending her an arch look. “I’m sure I don’t know what you mean.”

“Yes, you do,” Lydia exclaims, exasperated. Alec’s eyes widen at the outburst. “Don’t deflect,” she demands, pointing an accusatory finger in his directions.

“You always do this. You’re thirty two, Alec, and I hate the thought of you waking up one day steeped in regret and loneliness.”

“Where are you planning on going,” he says mechanically. He winces before the words have even left his mouth, waving off Lydia’s impending tirade.

“Ignore that. So you want me to-- what? Just because you’ve found someone, that means I need to throw my career away for the first man who looks in my direction?”

“That’s not what I’m saying and you know it. Don’t twist my words.”

Alec’s voice is cool as he replies, “No, I think that’s exactly what you’re suggesting. We’ve been over this a hundred times, Lydia. Our arrangement worked perfectly because both of us were too focused on our careers to mess with dating. However, you appear to have met someone and while I’m thrilled for you, both of us know that’s just not in the cards for me.”

“It’s 2019, Alec. Surely you don’t think everything would come crashing down if you came out.”

“Maybe not,” Alec allows. “I don’t think CNN would cast me out on the streets. I don’t think I’d become a destitute has-been. I could still work in this field. But we both know that the career I’ve pursued for the past decade necessitates that I travel a good part of the year. I’m out of New York as often as I’m here and a lot of the time I’m going on dangerous assignments where my journalist credentials are the only thing standing between me and death or imprisonment.

“If it got out I was gay? I’d be lucky to go out in the field anymore and I’d be even luckier if I wasn’t thrown in jail-- or worse-- the minute I landed in some of those countries. That’s the reality, Lydia. I’d be relegated to a desk job, writing about the news instead of living it. I need to be on the front lines. I’m not willing to sacrifice my career just for the possibility that I might meet a man someday who I want to settle down with. Actually, I think it’s brazen and a little unrealistic that there’s even someone like that out there for me.”

“That’s what I thought too, you know. But John is wonderful and while I don’t have to choose between him and my career, he means a lot. I just want you to find someone one day who will make you feel like that, too. Like they're the most important person in the world.”

“I have my work and that’s enough motivation for me, don’t worry.” Alec’s voice is brisk as he smiles encouragingly.

“Whatever you say, Alec. I just don’t want you to focus so much on your career that you forget that there are other things worth living for. The job isn’t everything, no matter how much you love it or how prestigious it becomes.”

“Wise words from a fellow workaholic,” Alec notes with a sardonic look, taking a sip of his whiskey.

Lydia just shrugs. “Maybe I’m just speaking from personal experience, then. I didn’t know until I met someone.”

“Never say never. Got it,” Alec replies and the two of them laugh before Lydia sighs and stands up, laying her glass on the coffee table with a light thud.

“Speak of the devil, I have plans with my boyfriend tonight. I should get going.”

“It’s almost midnight,” Alec remarks. “What could your plans possibly be,” he asks with a raised brow.

“Get your mind out of the gutter,” she chastises. “He’s a doctor and just got off shift. We’re meeting for dinner a few blocks from the hospital.”

Standing as well, Alec swallows the last of his whiskey, wincing. “Enjoy your date, then, and I guess I’ll see you soon enough-- though not in public it seems."

“Not for awhile,” Lydia agrees. “No one needs rumours of that. We had a good run, Alec, but I’m dumping you.”

Alec throws back his head, letting his laughter ring throughout the room. He wipes an imaginary tear from his eye. “And here I thought we were going to go the distance. Just leave me and my broken heart to wallow.”

Lydia laughs softly as she takes a step toward him. Wrapping her arms around his middle, Lydia’s voice is muffled as she says, “Thanks for being so understanding. I would’ve hated it if this would’ve come between us.”

Returning the hug, Alec tightens his arms a little as he lets his chin rest on top of Lydia’s chin. “Nah,” he says easily. “We’ve been friends too long for anything to affect us. So, you’re falling for someone. It was bound to happen sometime and I’m not enough of a bastard to want anything to stand in the way of you and your happiness.”

“You’re a good friend, Alec.”

“Yeah, yeah,” he says, standing back. “Don’t let it get around that I’m not actually an asshole. I have a reputation to maintain.”

“Whatever,” Lydia replies. “You’re a giant softie and I’m not the only one who thinks so.”

Alec gasps dramatically, raising a hand to his chest in dismay. “Whatever do you mean.”

Poking him in the shoulder, his friend just offers, “People might think you’re a little cold around the edges, but everyone knows you’re a good guy deep down. The sheer amount of charity work you do speaks to that, no matter the fan accounts of running into you all over the city.”

“Lies,” Alec says, dismissive. “Lies and hearsay.”

Lydia snorts. “You’re such a dork.”

Alec grins waving Lydia off as she heads toward the door. “You know you love it.”

He hears her mutter, “God knows why,” underneath her breath before she’s striding toward her own office to call it a day.

Left alone, Alec’s office feels unnaturally quiet after the last half hour. He stands for a minute, unmoving before shaking his head and grabbing his shit.

He throws his jacket on and sweeps up his bag. Making sure that he isn’t leaving anything he’ll need until tomorrow, Alec shuts the lights off and locks his office.

At this hour, there’s just a skeleton crew in the building and Alec nods to a few people he recognizes as he makes his way downstairs.

The cab ride to his apartment is uneventful and now that things have calmed down a little, he feels exhaustion riding him hard. Unfortunately, he’s just crossed the threshold of his bedroom when he remembers that Izzy called him earlier in the evening.

With a groan, Alec takes the time to shower and change into fresh clothes before he plucks his phone from his discarded jeans and dials a number he knows from heart. Thankfully, his sister is a night owl and the phone has just started it’s second ring when he hears it pick up.

“Good evening, hermano. How are you?”

“Hey, Iz,” Alec greets warmly. “I’m doing okay, just got back to my place actually. How about you?”

“Oh, same old, same old,” she returns. “Work is fun as always even if it makes me want to tear my hair out on a regular basis. I’m sure I’ll have my first gray hair before I’m thirty at this rate.”

“But you can’t even fathom doing anything else,” Alec says knowingly.

“You’re right, of course,” Izzy sighs. “Even if I’ve taken on more of an administrative role, I still love working in the lab whenever I get the chance. But, that’s not why I’m calling.”

“No,” Alec says, tone insouciant even over the phone. “I didn’t think you’d call me just to wax rhapsodic about science. You usually keep those calls to the daytime.”

“Whatever,” his sister laughs and the sound makes something settle in Alec as he wanders out of his bedroom toward the foyer where he’d dropped his mail off earlier. He didn’t see Isabelle as often as he might like even if they did meet up at least once a week when he was in town. It was nice to talk to her, even if she was talking about things Alec didn’t really have an interest in. It was important to Izzy and that meant Alec would-- and definitely had-- listen to her talk about chemistry and whatever the shit until she was blue in the face.

“Do you have plans for tomorrow? Specifically the morning.”

“Uh, no. Not that I can think of.” Alec thinks over his schedule and while he knew that he’d be in New York for a couple of weeks at least, there was nothing pressing for the foreseeable future. Honestly, tomorrow he’d just figured that he’d have a rest day, catching up on his sleep and the latest season of a Netflix Original that he hadn’t seen yet.

“Well, you do now. We’re getting you a suit for that thing you have next week.”

Flipping through bills, bills, and a packet of coupons to Burger King, Alec just raises a brow at the stack of mail in his hand. “Oh we are, are we? Since when?”

He can almost hear Isabelle roll her eyes on the other end of the line. “Since you told me that you had that press dinner at the end of the month and you were planning on going to Brooks Brothers for an outfit.”

“I also mentioned Armani,” Alec says absently. “They’re usually my go to for important events.”

“Armani, shmarmani,” Isabelle says impatiently. “I got us a consult with a different designer.”

Intrigued Alec merely prompts, “Oh?”

“He’s only the biggest name in fashion and I’m sure he can take you from your steady eight into the twelve range at least.”

“Hey,” Alec protests mildly. “I feel like I should be insulted by that.”

“Don’t be,” Izzy says dryly. “I’m a ten and even if you do clean up well, you’re no match for me.”

Alec huffs out a laugh. “If you say so, then.”

“Anyway,” she continues lightly. “I called him up and he agreed to meet with you tomorrow at ten. So bad news if you were planning on sleeping in but I wanted to make sure that he had enough time to make your suit.”

“You’ve got me on tenterhooks. Who is this designer I’m meeting?”

“Magnus Bane,” Izzy says excitedly, like she just announced that the Prince of Sheba was going to be outfitting him.

“Who,” Alec asks, squinting into nothing as he tries to put a face to the name.

“Really, Alec?” Isabelle’s voice is exasperated, though Alec really thinks that she has no one to blame but herself if she expected Alec to have a Rolodex of designers in his head. He knew half a dozen and most of them were because they’d met. Alec knew what he liked and once he found a designer that could cater his image, he rarely strayed.

“Yes, Isabelle. Really. You know that I mainly stick to Armani or Gucci whenever I need something more formal. Who’s this Magnus Bane?”

“Only the most talented designer of our generation, hermano. He’s the youngest designer on Forbes Fortune 500 and a true visionary. He’s phenomenally talented. His runways are always exclusive as hell and people have been known to bribe other attendees to put in a good word with him so that they can receive an invitation.”

“And does that work?”

“Not really,” Isabelle admits. “Magnus is pretty strict on who he wants at his shows. He usually thinks flattery is meaningless.”

“Good for him then,” Alec says, his estimation of this Magnus raising a level or two.

“Yeah, he’s a really good guy. Very down to earth even if he does own one of the top fashion empires in the world. I’ve worked with him a few times and we’ve become friends over the years.” She takes a breath. “All of that to say that he’s been kind enough to squeeze us into his very busy schedule.”

“Why go to all the trouble? I’m perfectly fine with what I have.”

“I’m sure you are,” his sister retorts breezily. “You’re stuck in a rut, though. I think you two could be good for each other.”

Padding his way into the kitchen, Alec reaches for a glass in the cupboard before filling it with water. “What do you mean? Even if I like his design, it’s a business transaction, nothing more. I hardly think I’ll talk to Bane after I get the suit.”

“You never know,” is all Isabelle says and while her tone is cryptic as fuck, Alec just attributes it to her usual behaviour.

“Well, what time is this meeting?”

“Ten o’clock sharp.”

“Great,” he mutters. “It’s not like I haven’t slept in thirty hours or anything.”

“Great,” Izzy echoes, tone much brighter.

“Whatever you’re planning, get it out of your head,” Alec mutters.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“Whatever.” Looking at the clock, he curses as he sees it's officially after midnight. He's still running on Norway time, though, and it's early morning for him.

He's so tired his eyes burn. Jesus Christ, he thinks.

“Text me the address and I’ll meet you there in the morning. Anything else I should know?”

He hears Izzy hum over the line before she says, “No, that’s about it. Try not to look like you rolled out of bed if at all possible and be on time. Magnus hates when people are late.”

“Lucky we have that in common, then.”

“I’ll see you in the morning. If you don’t have anything after, we could get lunch?”

“Sounds like a plan,” Alec confirms. “Bye, Iz.”

“Bye, Alec.”

With that, he hangs up and drains the glass of water he’d been staring at for the past five minutes.

He all but collapses into bed. He’s almost asleep before he remembers that he needs to set an alarm and the brightness of his phone sears his retinas in the dark room. He’s sleepy and cranky for it. He needs to pass out for eight hours and has high hopes that will make him feel like a human again.

It’s like the past week has caught up with him in a rush and Alec feels like jello as he sinks into the bed. A thought keeps niggling at him, though.

With a sigh, he shifts onto his side, pulling his pillow closer until he’s half-hugging it. He’s been dating Lydia for years now. She’d been his cover since they’d graduated college and she’s been a close friend since middle school.

When they’d first been starting out, neither of them had wanted to take their eye off the prize. So, they’d made a pact to be each other’s plus ones. They were already close enough that most people who didn’t know them thought they were dating. It was nothing to ask Lydia to be his date to a dinner or accompany him to a charity gala. He's done the same for her on dozens of occasions. It was a system that worked for them.

They let other people draw their own conclusions. It suited their purposes.

Especially his.

While Alec might have discreet affairs, everything is always kept hushed. Like he’d told Lydia tonight, he’s not willing to let anything come between him and his career. He likes travelling and he’s worked damned hard to gain the clearance and clout that he’s accumulated.

It might bust his balls that he can’t be open, that he has to have plausible deniability and shut down any rumours that he might not be straight swiftly and uncategorically, but it’s his life and he long ago accepted that some things could never be meant for him.

More’s the pity.

As his breathing grows deep and his thoughts become hazy, Alec’s secure in the knowledge that he’s doing what’s best. He can’t imagine a man ever meaning as much as his career-- let alone more, what the fuck-- and he’s content with the life he’s built.

He’s one of the most famous journalists in the world and everything’s looking up with no sign of stopping.

And with that, he switches gears.

His last thought before he drifts off is about this Magnus Bane. Alec may never have heard of him but if Izzy’s singing his praises then he must be good. He only hopes that Bane will listen to him and not try to thrust his style onto Alec.

He’s humoring this designer for Izzy and because he figures why the hell not. However, wants someone who will listen to him, who won’t just take his measurements and do whatever the hell he wants.

Alec supposes everything will shake out in the morning and with that he falls asleep, ending another day that’s like any other.

#can yall believe I'm actually updating this #dlsfjghdjlfg it's been so long i wouldn't blame everyone if they forgot about this lmao #anywho #otr #off the record #my writing #malec fic #malec wip

26 notes · View notes