"Walk me out, will you? We have some business to settle."
Magnus walks out of the room without pausing or looking back. If there's one thing about Alec being too bound up in rigid Shadowhunter honor, it's that Magnus can trust he'll follow through on his end of the deal. He slows when he hears Alec's footsteps behind him and waits for him to catch up.
"Thank you, Magnus," Alec says when they reach a deserted stretch of corridor.
"Don't thank me yet," Magnus says. "You may yet find the price too much to pay."
"I won't," Alec says, face set in a scowl. "Name the time and place. You'll get your payment."
Heat flutters low in Magnus's belly. Alexander Lightwood giving himself up to Magnus Bane's mercy willingly. Name the time and place. Does Alec even know all the ways Magnus could make him regret that? From the rigid set of his shoulders, he'd say Alec has some idea. He still said it. Fortunately for him, Magnus's desires aren't that elaborate.
"My loft," he says. "9pm."
"I'll be there," Alec says immediately.
And maybe it’s not a good idea, but he’s a little angry and a lot hurt, so he just leaves without a second glance. He rubs his chest and thinks that this is why he stopped giving a damn, all those years ago. It’s not love, but attraction, infatuation...they carry their own sting.
Maybe Alec wants Magnus to take all the responsibility. He can play the dirty, debauched Downworlder seducing the innocent angel, while Alec goes off to marry his perfect Shadowhunter bride.
Magnus sighs to himself as he steps through the portal into his loft. He’s being unfair to Lydia. She’s a brilliant, lovely, strong girl who deserves better.
They all deserve better.
But Alexander Lightwood has decided that this is for the best, and now they’ll all have to live with it.
It’s with that bitter thought tucked away in the back of his mind that he goes about the rest of his evening.
Alec knocks on the door at exactly 8:55.
Magnus had felt him pass through the wards five minutes ago, and there’s no circumstance in which the elevator takes that long. Had he spent those five minutes debating whether or not he should leave? Steeling himself for the ordeal to come? Magus scowls even though no one is there to see it. As if having sex with Magnus is something you need to psych yourself up for.
But if Alec is having second thoughts, they don’t show on his face when Magnus opens the door.
“Hey,” he says, his face carefully blank like it gets when he’s having too many emotions and doesn’t want anyone to know. “Can I come in?”
Magnus steps back, waving him in. “Of course. Cocktail?” He moves directly over to the bar. He can’t get through this without a drink, that’s for sure. Stupid. He knows better, is the thing. He knows better than to give his heart and body away this carelessly, but here he is, ready to give himself and Alec a night they’ll never forget.
That’s the kicker about immortality, though. Never forgetting means a hell of a lot more for Magnus than it does for Alec.
Magnus closes his eyes. He’s imagined their first time so many times. Hard and fast on the dance floor at Pandemonium. Sweet and giggly after their first date. Intense and sweaty after training. Not like this. He pours himself a vodka on the rocks and slams it. He’s not sure he can do this.
Pulling himself together, Magnus turns to ask Alec what he wants and finds himself face-to face with him, closer than they’ve been before. “I don’t need a drink,” Alec says, softly. "Um, how do you want to...?" He reaches out, placing his hand on Magnus’ cheek.
This is the first time Alec has touched him for a non-magical reason, and he’s doing it as payment for services rendered. Fuck. How dare he be tender right now. Magnus’ heart isn’t going to survive this.
Alec leans in, tentative, unsure, and kisses Magnus on the mouth.
It's incredibly similar to how Magnus always imagined their first kiss and he can't do this. Magnus is done with sweet. He’s done with tender. Alec is the one who decided it had to be this way. He reaches up and grabs a fistful of Alec’s hair.
He pulls Alec back just far enough to see his brow furrow in confusion. “Wha-”
“Not so fast, nephilim.” He goes back for Alec’s mouth with a brutal kiss. Nothing sweet and tender. This is all tongue and teeth.
He expects Alec to fight him for control. How very like a Shadowhunter, to not let a Downworlder have the upper hand, even in a kiss. But Alec doesn’t. He opens his mouth and lets Magnus in, makes a small sound of surprise and arousal.
Magnus pushes his advantage, crowding Alec back toward the couch. Alec kisses a little sloppily, too much teeth and tongue, and he doesn’t seem to know where to put his hands. He keeps grabbing fistfuls of Magnus’ shirt, then letting them go. Magnus isn’t interested in bedding the unwilling, even this boy who is breaking his heart, so he bites Alec’s lip and tugs it slowly before letting go and saying “Last chance to back out, Shadowhunter.”
Alec swallows loudly in the dim of Magnus’ loft, audible above the ambient noise of traffic below. His eyes are wide and dark, and he keeps flicking them down to Magnus’ mouth. “No, this is...yes. Good. This is good.” He reaches for Magnus’ shirt again, but at the last minute, Magnus snaps his fingers and Alec’s clothes disappear. “Good,” he says. “Now get on the couch.”
Alec ducks his head and does as he’s told, only the flush creeping up the back of his neck indicating any embarrassment about being suddenly naked and ordered around.
Magnus snaps his fingers and his own clothes are gone. He stalks around the arm of the couch, watching Alec’s eyes widening. Alec doesn’t seem to know where to look, his eyes darting all over Magnus’ body.
He looks amazing. Alec Lightwood, naked and blushing, biting his bottom lip, the need rolling off him in waves. Magnus can feel it, the palpable, aching want that this boy projects when Magnus is in the room.
Alec is rubbing his hands down his own thighs, in a gesture that's more nervous than erotic. Magnus wonders how many times he's done this, how many times he was able to sneak away with another young man. Not many, Magnus guesses.
Alec won't do that anymore if he marries Lydia. Magnus will be the last man he ever has. And Magnus wants to make sure Alec never, ever forgets him.
Magnus crawls over him, never breaking eye contact, sliding his his hand up Alec’s calf, then the back of his knee, pulling it up so there is space for him to land between Alec’s legs. Alec grunts, his eyes wide. Magnus is cradled between his thighs, his hand drifting up to push Alec’s hair away from his face. His heart skips a beat, stuttering in his chest from the intimacy of it all. He’s protected his fragile heart for so long, only to toss it carelessly at a Shadowhunter, of all people.
Alec’s eyes meet his, and there is a moment where Magnus thinks that this is it, they’re going to break free from this mess, but his chin juts out and he closes his eyes. His hands tighten on Magnus’ hips.
Well, that’s just insulting.
Magnus tips Alec’s chin up and says, “Look at me.”
Alec’s eyes snap open and he does. He looks destroyed, his mouth hanging slightly open. Magnus lets the glamour drop from his eyes and grinds his hips down, his cock sliding against Alec’s. He is a warlock and a man, and he won’t let Alec pretend otherwise.
To his surprise, Alec doesn’t look away. He chokes out a moan, his hand reaching up to drag along Magnus’ jawline before falling back to the couch. His cock pulses next to Magnus’, so hard that Magnus thinks for a moment that he’s already coming. “Please,” he whispers.
Magnus leans down to bite the juncture of Alec’s neck and shoulder, reveling in the taste of Alec’s skin. He wants more of this, hours of this. He wants to taste Alec from head to toe, to make him cry and scream and beg and come over and over and over.
Alec’s hands scrabble down Magnus’ sides, pausing at his hips. He tentatively reaches for Magnus’ cock - like Magnus is going to stop him? - and moans a little when he finds it, clumsily jerking him, off-rhythm, not enough pressure, but Alec’s face is open in awe, eyes wide and biting his lip. Magnus can’t look at him. His arousal overwhelms him for a moment, paired with a sharp, hot pain in his chest.
Magnus snaps his fingers and a bottle of lube appears his hands. “Ready?” he asks.
Alec stares at him for a moment. It feels longer than the few seconds it must be, just to the point where Magnus is ready to call it off, no matter how turned on he is. But then Alec reaches up and touches his face. Magnus presses a kiss into his palm, unable to help himself.
“Do it,” Alec says.
Right. This is a transaction. Alec gets his thrills, his last hurrah with a man, and Magnus gets this memory. It will have to be enough.
Magnus sits up on his knees. “How do you like to do this?” he asks. “You can flip over, or…?”
“I want to see you,” Alec says, surprising Magnus. Surprising himself, if the look on Alec’s face is anything to go by. Alec swallows hard and lets his legs fall apart.
Magnus’ hand wobbles, almost dropping the lube. By all the gods he’s known, this boy is beautiful. He dribbles lube on his fingers and leans forward, pushing one inside, maybe faster than he meant to.
Alec freezes, every muscle in his body locking up. He’s so tight, Magnus’ finger almost slides out. “Alec?” he asks, stopping right away.
“It’s okay,” Alec says, breathing shallowly. “Just do it.”
“Darling, I hate to think what passes for tender loving care between Shadowhunters, but I treat my lovers a little better than that.” Magnus presses a kiss to one of his knees. “Breathe for me, Alexander.”
Alec draws in a shuddering breath, rolling his shoulders back. He relaxes, just a fraction, and Magnus eases his finger in another inch, gently. “It’s,” Alec says and stops, heaving in another breath. “Yes?” Magnus asks, moving his hand in tiny circles, patient and precise. “It’s...yes,” Alec says, his head falling back. “Yes, yes, that.”
Magnus works him open more slowly than he wanted to. This was supposed to be a quick fuck, a little angry on both their sides, with lots of marking each other and maybe Alec bent over the back of the couch. But instead here they are, Magnus being as gentle as his heart can handle and Alec...Alec wrecked and flushed, his eyes wide open like he doesn’t want to miss a second of it.
By the time he has two fingers in, Alec’s eyes are closed and sweat is dripping down his temples. He’s so hard, his cock tense and curved up to his belly, dripping precome in spurts, that Magnus is worried Alec is going to come just from this. “Alexander,” he says, putting his hand on Alec’s hip. Alec moans, his hips jerking up, and his cock throbs, dribbling more precome, smearing against his stomach.
“Please--” he pants.”Gonna come.”
Magnus has infinite patience and infinite time, but nothing in the entire expanse of the universe and all the dimensions is as important as getting inside Alec Lightwood right now. He shoves Alec’s legs apart further, positions himself, and pushes inside.
Alec gasps and almost locks up again, his eyes squeezed tight. “Slow,” he grits out. “Go slow.”
Magnus feels like his heart is being squeezed out of his chest. His skin is too tight, magic racing in his veins, down his hands, sparking against Alec’s skin. He barely moves, just rocking slightly, babbling endearments to Alec in a long-dead language, things he’d never say in English, you’re beautiful and I want you mixed with how could you. Slowly, he eases in, bit by bit, breaking Alec wide open beneath him. He doesn’t thrust until Alec is as hard as he was before, moaning and shoving forward. He can’t form enough words to beg, but Magnus understands what he needs.
He thrusts hard, harder, his anger back momentarily as they’re rushing toward the end. This is it, Magnus thinks, This is the end of the memory, and he knows better than anyone not to hold on too hard to a single moment, but he can’t help it; he catalogues every sensation, from the orgasm building in his own gut, to Alec, his hair damp with sweat, chasing the right friction to get himself off, the noises of the city outside, the sleeve of the suit Magnus wore to court, half-visible on the back of a chair.
It’s all too much. Magnus is going to come, he’s going to cry, it’s all building up inside him. He reaches down and touches Alec’s cock, just the lightest touch, but that alone is enough to make him come, bent nearly in half, losing his breath and choking as Magnus strokes him through it.
Just the sight is almost enough to get Magnus off, but the thing that does it in the end is Alec grabbing Magnus’ free hand and kissing his palm, his wrist, desperate to taste what parts of Magnus he can reach. It’s the feel of his lips, his too-rough teeth, his tongue... Magnus comes with a groan, dropping his head to Alec’s chest.
It doesn’t take long for Magnus to come back to himself. The sweat is still slick on his skin. Alec’s hands are running through his hair, over and over again, and Alec’s chest is still heaving with great uneven breaths.
Magnus wants nothing more than to collapse against that broad chest and give himself over to those hands, to pin Alec to the sofa until they fall asleep and wake up tomorrow morning only so they can do it all over again.
But that wasn’t part of the deal.
Magnus pulls himself away, ignoring the sound Alec makes when his cock slips out. He levers himself off the couch and across the room. He needs space. Actual, physical distance before he throws himself across Alec’s body and begs him to stay. He summons a robe and wraps it around himself tightly. Only with that barrier in place does he feel ready to look back at Alec.
Alec has barely moved. His face is turned away, toward the back of the couch, and his breath is still loud and uneven. He’s so fucking beautiful and Magnus can’t stand it.
“Payment in full,” he says. “You’re a man of your word, Shadowhunter.”
Alec’s breath stops for a second before he lets out a slow exhale. When he sits up, Magnus can’t interpret his expression.
“Thank you,” Alec says. His voice is sex-rough and low. It makes Magnus’ heart beat faster, and he doesn’t want that at all.
“The Mortal Cup saved Isabelle, not me,” Magnus says, because he can’t handle Alec’s gratitude right now.
“That’s no- um,” Alec pauses, looking around him. “My clothes?”
Right. Magnus has to remember where he banished them before he waves a hand and brings them back, clean and folded. Magnus makes himself look away when Alec starts getting dressed. He busies himself with making another drink, and slams it back without tasting it.
“Um,” Alec says. He’s hovering, unsure, between Magnus and the door.
The next time Magnus sees Alec, he’ll be married, he thinks, and it hurts, so he thinks it again, because he'd better get used to it.
“Good luck, Alexander,” he says sincerely. Then he leaves Alec to find his own way out before he embarrasses himself by crying.
Magnus receives two messages from the Institute over the next two days. He has spent most of the time since Alec left his loft drunk, and he’s only starting to sober up when the first message appears in a burst of flame.
It’s an invitation to the Wedding of Alexander Gideon Lightwood to Lydia Charlotte Branwell. Attached is a note from Isabelle.
I’ve done everything I can. I think you’re his last hope.
Unfortunately for Isabelle, Magnus has also done everything he can. More than he should have. If he closes his eyes he can still feel the slide of Alec’s skin, can still hear Alec’s voice saying, please. It’s enough to make a man drink, which he does, until the second message comes.
This one is from Clary, requesting his help regarding Jocelyn, at the Institute, tomorrow morning. He’s too drunk for the word "morning" to sound anything but horrible, and he’s too sad to want to step within a mile of the Institute. But he still feels a responsibility to Clary and to Jocelyn, so he writes back a sloppy reply and puts himself to bed.
Not even his considerable magic can cure a hangover completely, and his hangover the next morning is also considerable. Still, he armors himself in clothes and makeup and portals to the Institute.
He’s counting on the fact that Alec will be too busy with wedding preparations to bother with this meeting. If he’s wrong, he’s setting himself up for a whole lot of awkwardness.
Luckily only Jace is seated at the table Magnus is directed to in the Ops center.
“Jace,” Magnus greets him as he sits.
The glare Jace levels him with is both surprising and so potent Magnus rocks back in his seat. “Do I want to know what put that look on your face?” Magnus asks. “I’m the one here doing you a favor.”
Jace stands up, crossing his arms in a way that might be impressive to someone else. It’s been many, many years since Magnus feared a Shadowhunter. Magnus rolls his eyes, summoning an iced latte into his left hand. The beverage selection at the Institute is truly dismal.
“And you’re going to sit there playing games,” Jace says. “After everything you did to Alec.”
“Everything I did? Everything-” Magnus is too heartsick, too hungover, too goddamned old to be playing these games right now. “Your precious parabatai,” he spits out, “is the one who broke my heart. He walked away from me, okay?”
“You…” Jace tightens his jaw and looks away. “I know you slept together. Like you said, we’re parabatai.”
Surprise tosses him momentarily out of his anger. Magnus isn’t sure what the expression is on his face, but whatever is happening there, Jace catches sight of him and says “No! No. No, god, not like that. I can tell, but not like...details.”
“Great, so you were spying,” Magnus says. “Alec is an adult. He made his own choices. And then he left.” Magnus stands, smoothing the front of his jacket, irritated. He’s not going to stick around to let this Shadowhunter tell him what to do.
“Of course he left, you- you-” Jace gestures in front of him.
“Are we pretending Alec is straight?” Magnus asks. He knows Jace knows about Alec, but he’s tired of being treated like a dirty little secret. “That’s an exhausting game. I don’t like it.”
“Uh, obviously Alec isn’t straight.” Jace rolls his eyes. “What I want to know, is, did Alec...you know…” He makes another, slightly more suggestive gesture at Magnus. “Did he sacrifice his virginity to you? For Izzy?”
“I’m...I’m sorry, what?”
Jace goes back to glaring. “Did he give you his virginity in exchange for helping Isabelle?”
“I didn’t … he’s not…” Magnus looks around to make sure no other Shadowhunters are nearby, then leans closer to Jace. “He’s not a virgin.”
“Not since two nights ago.”
Cold shock rushes through him. “No,” he says.
Jace rolls his eyes. “Magnus, you knew this. Virgin Shadowhunter energy, you said.”
“I was joking,” Magnus hisses. “That’s not a real thing!” God. Magnus suddenly remembers Alec asking him to go slow and feels nausea start to roll in his gut. He’d been angry, and callous, and flat-out rough sometimes and Alec hadn’t ever…
Jace blinks at him. “You really didn’t know.”
Magnus shakes his head slowly. His hangover pushes in on him, and his head starts to pound. “I should... maybe I should go.” It’s the only thing he can think to do. Go back to his lair and lick his wounds.
Obsess, says a voice in his head that sounds an awful lot like Ragnor.
Just then, the door bursts open and Clary runs in. “Magnus!” she calls, her face shining and open. “I think we can wake up my mom. Please - can you help us?” There is too much of young Clary in her face right now for Magnus to say no, He watched this child grow up, and now she needs him.
Besides, work is a distraction. Magnus could use a good distraction right now. He’ll deal with Alexander later.
Talking through the possibilities with Clary, Jace, and Hodge steadies him. By the time they’ve figured out they need to go see Ragnor, he’s feeling much more stable, and he knows what he needs to do.
“I will portal us to Ragnor’s lair,” Magnus tells the shadowhunters. “But I have one thing I have to do first.”
Clary frowns. “We need to wake my mom as soon as possible,” she says.
“Let him go,” Jace says, not looking at Clary. “It won’t take long, right, Magnus?” His expression says don’t fuck this up, and Magnus shakes his head. He doesn’t need Jace Wayland to tell him to be careful. Anymore.
He goes to find Alec.
He finds him in his office. There’s several files and a tablet spread out on his desk, but Alec is leaning back in his chair and staring out of the window. He doesn’t seem to hear Magnus open his door.
“Alexander,” Magnus says.
Alec starts, and when he sees Magnus his face does something complicated that starts with a smile and cycles through surprise and fear and embarrassment before it ends in wariness and Alec looking down at his desk. Magnus’s heart clenches. He’s never wanted Alec to be embarrassed or afraid because of him. Jace is right. He’s done damage with his carelessness.
“What, uh,” Alec starts, still not looking at Magnus.
“We’ve figured out who most likely made the potion to put Jocelyn to sleep. Jace and Clary and I are going to go talk to him,” Magnus says.
“Okay, I can be ready in five.”
Magnus shakes his head, even though Alec still isn’t looking at him. “Best to keep this mission small, I think. Ragnor won’t appreciate more Shadowhunters at his door, and besides, he won’t hurt us.”
“Okay,” Alec pauses and finally looks at Magnus. “Then what…”
“I wanted to talk to you,” Magnus says. Alec visibly steels himself, straightening his spine and setting his jaw. Like he’s preparing for a blow, and goddammit, Magnus thought he was done letting this boy break his heart. What an idiot he was.
“Is this about Jocelyn? Because -”
“Why didn’t you tell me that you were a virgin?”
Whatever Alec was going to say dies, and he stares at Magnus, open-mouthed, for a second before he snaps it shut and looks down at his desk again.
“Who told you?” Alec’s voice is low, defeated.
“Jace made me aware of something I probably should have figured out for myself,” Magnus says as he sits in one of the chairs in front of Alec’s desk. Alec still won’t look at him.
“Jace should mind his own business.”
“Jace is worried about you.”
Alec snorts, but doesn’t say anything. Magnus leans on the desk, trying to get closer.
“Alec, please look at me.”
Alec lifts his head slowly. “Are you angry at me?”
“What? No.”
“You should be,” Alec says. “I wasn’t … I wasn’t honest, and I’m sorry. But I knew you wouldn’t do it if you knew.”
“I’m angry at myself,” Magnus admits. “I shouldn’t have offered it. I thought you were going to turn me down. But once you didn’t, I shouldn’t have let it get as far as it did. And I’m so sorry. I was angry, but that’s no excuse for treating you the way that I did, especially not for your first time.”
“It was what I wanted.”
“You wanted someone to treat you like that?”
“I wanted it to be with you.”
That simple statement makes something in Magnus melt. It’s everything he’s wanted to hear from Alec for weeks. “Alexander, all you had to do was ask.”
Alec shakes his head. “I couldn’t. It wasn’t … It’s not fair to you. For me to ask that and then not be able to -- it still doesn’t change anything. Just because it’s what I want, it doesn’t change what I have to do.”
“Those things don’t have to be mutually exclusive, Alec,” Magnus says. And he’s aware that he’s begging, that he sounds desperate, and maybe later he’ll regret that, but he can’t stop himself. Not when Alec is finally, finally telling Magnus he wants him.
“But they are. Magnus, what kind of person would I be if I just let my family hang because… because I want… It would be selfish. There are lives on the line.”
“Your life is on the line.”
The look Alec gives him is so devastated Magnus nearly pulls back. “I’ll live,” he says.
“Will you?” Magnus asks without thinking. Alec flinches. Magnus inhales sharply.
“Magnus, it’s not-”
“Surviving isn’t the same thing as living,” Magnus says quickly because he can’t think about Alec, miserable in a loveless marriage, deciding he doesn’t need to be as careful on a mission one night. The possibility hadn’t even occurred to him until now. “You don’t have to do this.”
“Yes, I do.”
Now Magnus is the one to break eye contact, staring down at his lap, at his fingers twisting together. “I can’t keep asking you, Alec. I can’t keep doing this.”
“You shouldn’t.” Alec says it gently but it feels like a blow. When he looks back up Alec is hunched over, his head in his hands. “I keep hurting you and I don’t want to. It’s the last thing I want to do. You should stop letting me, Magnus, I’m not … I’m not worth it.”
“Yes you are,” Magnus says fiercely, because if there’s one thing he’s sure of at this moment it’s that Alec Lightwood is worth everything.
Alec shakes his head. “I can’t be what you want, Magnus.” He swallows. “You should go.”
Just like that, Magnus is dismissed. Maybe it should help that Alec clearly hates doing it, doesn’t want him to go as much as Magnus doesn’t want to go. But it doesn’t. It makes it worse. Magnus doesn’t even have the energy to be angry about it. He stands.
“I won’t ask again,” he says, and he isn’t sure if it’s a promise or a threat. Alec nods.
Magnus walks out of the office with his head held high and goes to find Clary. Maybe a change of scene will help ease the emptiness inside of him where Alec used to be.
Ragnor is gone. It seems impossible that he’s gone. They’re immortal, after all. That was the promise and the curse of being a warlock, that you’d never get rid of the other damn warlocks in your life, so you learned to love them or tolerate them or avoid them, because you’d be drifting in and out of each other's orbits until the end of time. Magnus tries to imagine the future without Ragnor, but it feels like smashing his mind into a wall, big and black and suffocating. Empty. Unfathomably lonely.
God, you’re melodramatic, says the voice in his head that sounds like Ragnor. Do you need to mope on the balcony? Perhaps with a raven on your shoulder and a single tear running down your face?
Magnus opens his eyes and Ragnor is there. He’s not really there, Magnus can tell that right away. But he’s not...he’s not not there. Magnus feels like he can breathe again, just a little. “You’re the one haunting me,” Magnus says. He snaps the photo album shut. “Now who’s being melodramatic?”
I don’t know how this works, Ragnor says, but I’m sure my presence here is your fault.
Magnus sets the photo album aside and picks up his drink. “It’s too much,” he tells Ragnor. “I’ve lost two people that I lo -- that I care about today. I think I’m entitled to a little moping.”
Oh? Ragnor says. He leans back in his chair and raises an eyebrow. Is loverboy dead, then? Why isn’t he the one pulled back through the veil to nurse you through your tantrums?
“Not dead, but lost to me all the same.”
Now you really are being melodramatic.
“I’m not.”
Magnus, take it from someone who now has some expertise on the subject, where there is life, there is hope. He’s not lost to you. He’s not even very far away.
Magnus swallows around the lump in his throat. “He asked me to leave him alone. I have to respect that. Especially after everything I’ve already done.”
I won’t say you didn’t do something foolish. But, my friend, it takes two to make that particular mistake.
“Only one of us should have known better, though.”
Are you really going to let this self-flagellation keep you here while the man you love marries someone else?
“What the hell do you want me to do, Ragnor?” Magnus snaps.
Fight, Ragnor says.
“I -”
Perhaps what he needs isn’t your distance, but one more opportunity to make a choice. Ragnor leans forward and Magnus wants to reach out and touch him so badly it hurts. Magnus. What’s one more moment of hurt against a lifetime of regret? If you can honestly say the possibility won’t haunt you for years to come, then ignore me. Stay here here feeling sorry for yourself and getting drunk. Again.
Magnus stares down at his drink. He forces himself to picture Alec that morning in his office. I wanted it to be you. Dammit. He sighs.
“Even in death, you give the best advice,” he admits.
If only you took it more than once every 300 years. Now, what are you going to wear?
Magnus steps out of the portal in front of the Institute doors.
He takes a second to straighten his jacket and his resolve. It is entirely likely that he’s about to be rejected again. Except this time very publicly.
He takes a deep breath and very firmly steps toward the door.
It bursts open and Magnus nearly falls back down the stairs. When he looks up he finds Alec Lightwood wearing a tux and staring at him.
“What are you doing here?” Alec asks.
“You know when I said I wouldn’t ask again? I lied.” Alec just looks at him and Magnus is suddenly more nervous than any 400-year old Warlock should be. “Um, aren’t you supposed to be inside? Getting married?”
“No.”
No? But Magnus was sure he had the right time … It clicks right as Alec steps forward and twists his hands in the lapels of Magnus’ jacket. Magnus has just enough time for one deep breath before Alec’s lips crash onto his.
Magnus is so overwhelmed for a moment that he can’t even kiss back and he feels Alec’s confidence falter. He starts to pull back. That’s the last thing Magnus wants, so he throws his arms around Alec’s neck and pulls him closer. Alec dives back into the kiss eagerly, his tongue parting Magnus’ lips and slipping inside, his hands sliding underneath Magnus’ jacket and around his waist.
Magnus loses himself in the kiss. In Alec’s lips and his skin and the warmth of his hands. He loses himself so much he doesn’t hear the door of the Institute opening again. Doesn’t hear anything until Maryse Lightwood snaps, “Alec!”
Alec jerks, mouth pulling away, his hands tightening on Magnus’ waist. “Um,” he says.
Magnus looks over Alec’s shoulder to see they’ve attracted quite the crowd: Maryse, and Robert, and Hodge, stone faced. Isabelle, Jace, Clary and Simon, grinning like loons.
“Well, Alexander,” Magnus says- he knows how wide he’s grinning and he can’t stop himself- “you never cease to amaze me.”
Alec groans and drops his head onto Magnus’ shoulder, but he doesn’t let go.
Magnus finally has Alec where he wants him, smiling and willing and in his bed.
After all the yelling (Maryse), and the congratulations (Isabelle and Simon), and even more yelling (Maryse again), Alec had pulled Magnus into an empty hallway and said, “Can we just. Can we please go somewhere away from everyone staring at me?”
Magnus did have things he needed to discuss with Clary but, well, how could he refuse a request like that? So he was not being entirely selfish when he suggested that his loft was very comfortable and entirely private.
“Yeah,” Alec said, smile blooming across his face. “Let’s go there.”
They’re still fully dressed, just kissing gently. Magnus wants to take it slow this time. They don’t need to have sex, they can just go at the pace Alec needs. This isn’t a stolen moment, he doesn’t need to make it last forever. This is just the first moment, the first step. Magnus feels giddy with anticipation.
Falling in love hurts for immortals, but not letting yourself fall hurts too. Magnus can give himself this.
Alec pushes himself up on one elbow, gently unbuttoning Magnus’ shirt. He slides the pads of his fingers hesitantly down Magnus’ throat, tracing over his collarbone and following the front placket of his shirt, popping one button at a time.
“We don’t have to--” Magnus says, but willing to wait and wanting to wait are two different things. He really hopes Alec doesn’t want to wait.
“Yeah, but,” Alec leans down to kiss just over Magnus’ heart, soft and delicate. “I really hope you want to,” he says, echoing Magnus’ own thoughts. He smiles crookedly up at Magnus, his eyes hopeful.
“Damn right I do,” Magnus says, pulling him up for another long, slow kiss. Magnus breathes him in, one hand clutched in Alec’s hair, trying and failing not to grind on Alec’s impressively muscular thigh. He’s not going to push this time. He’s going to introduce him to pleasure the way he should have the first time, carefully, slowly, with all the love and affection that Alec doesn’t think he deserves. Magnus runs his hands down the front of Alec’s shirt, preparing to push him back onto the bed.
“Lie back,” Alec says, catching one of Magnus’ hands in his own. “Please.” He lifts Magnus’ hand and kisses it, one finger at a time, his eyes never breaking contact with Magnus’. “Please,” he whispers again. determined, which is somewhat anticipated and utterly delightful. It suddenly seems ridiculous that they’re both still dressed. “Mind if I get into something a little more comfortable?” he asks, running his hand up and down the rumpled lines of his suit. “I feel a little overdressed for the occasion.”
“Is uh,” Alec is blushing, red spilling over his cheeks and down his neck. He smiles that crooked little smile again, up through his lashes and laughs a little, clearly at himself. “Is naked comfortable?” His neck is bright red now, and Magnus is utterly charmed.
“Very much so,” Magnus says seriously, and snaps his fingers. He can’t remember the last time he was embarrassed or uneasy being naked. Bodies are beautiful. Speaking of…”How about you?” he asks, nodding at Alec.
“Yeah,” Alec says absently. “Do it.” He’s frozen, staring at Magnus’ body, his hands clutched tightly into fists on the tops of his thighs. He licks his lips and Magnus can see that he’s shaking. “Are you sure?” he asks, and Alec lets his eyes flick up to Magnus’ and nods, once.
Instead of snapping his fingers, Magnus sits up and slides his hands from Alec’s shoulders to his waist to his legs, disintegrating each item of his clothing along the way. “Better?” Magnus asks. It’s better for him, that’s for sure, being able to feel the heat of Alec’s skin next to his, the contrast between the smooth skin of his arms and the hair on his chest, rubbing against his own. It feels incredible.
“God, Magnus,” Alec says, cupping Magnus’ face in his hands and leaning down for a kiss. He keeps nudging Magnus with his mouth and nose, nipping at him until he’s lying on the bed again. “Tell me what you like, “ Alec says, so quietly that Magnus almost doesn’t hear him.
“I like you,” Magnus says, and means it. Alec could do anything right now and it would get him off.
“No, don’t-” Magnus can hear the first note of real frustration come into Alec’s voice. “This is why I didn’t - I don’t want you to treat me different, or-” He rolls to Magnus’s side with a huff and starts sliding his palm up and down Magnus’ chest. “I don’t want a do-over,” he says, meeting Magnus’ eyes. “The only thing I need to learn is how to make you come.”
Oh. Oh.
Magnus is suddenly, desperately aroused. His Alexander couldn’t be more devastating if he tried, could he? What a menace. “All of this is working,” Magnus says, thrusting his hips up so Alec can feel how well it’s working. “You taking control is really, really working for me.”
“I’m going to touch you,” Alec says. He puts his hand on Magnus’ hip, stilling him. “I’ve always wanted- I’ve never- I’m just going to touch you, okay?” Magnus can feel the anticipation hit him like a blow. Oh, this he wants to see. Alec indulging himself, taking what he wants. Magnus suddenly feels so honored to be here in this moment. “Okay,” he says softly.
Alec is blushing, his cheeks flushed red in the soft light. He can’t quite look Magnus in the eye, but he’s looking his fill at Magnus’ body, his gaze sweeping from his neck to his thighs. He can see how Alec bites his lip and his eyes go a little unfocused and Magnus represses a small shiver.
Reaching out, Alec runs his thumb along Magnus’ collarbone, tracing down his sternum. He stops at the center of his chest and taps once, smiling goofily. “Your heart,” he says. You’re my heart, Magnus thinks but doesn’t say. Alec opens his hands and puts them on Magnus’ shoulders, pulling down his arms as if giving him a massage. “Surely you’ve touched someone’s arms before,” Magnus murmurs, stretching a little to show off the bulge of his biceps. “Not like this,” Alec says, and leans down to kiss his shoulder. Magnus shivers again as Alec’s lips open and he’s mouthing a little along Magnus’ skin, tasting him. Alec is breathing hard now, but not moving any faster.
Magnus can feel Alec’s thrusting against his leg. Erratic, aborted movements that Magnus is pretty sure he can’t help and might not even notice. He’s gone now, eyes glazed and hands shaking as he slowly wraps his hands around Magnus’ ribs and pulls, dragging his palms downward, fingers splayed around Magnus’ waist, then lower and lower, stopping just at the juncture of his hip and thigh. It’s possessive and instinctual and the sheer force of it, the overwhelming sensation of skin on skin and deep pressure makes Magnus arch off the bed and gasp, biting back a whimper. Alec gasps too and stops to stare at him, frozen for a moment before he pounces, kissing Magnus hard, all teeth and tongue and uncoordinated lust. It’s imperfect and so unbearably hot that Magnus has to close his eyes against the force of it. This time, he doesn’t hold back the noises he’s making deep in the back of his throat. He’s not sure how much Alec wants him to participate at this point, but he can’t not touch him, it would be impossible not to touch him, so he does, running his hands up and down Alec’s back, feeling the play of muscles and scars and runes. The runes are angelic magic, foreign to his own kind of magic, but he can still feel them thrumming with energy under Alec’s skin.
Alec is saying something into his mouth, gasping words out between kisses and cutting them off again as his hips surge against Magnus. “What do you- do you want- I want to-” He can’t finish the thought, squeezing his eyes shut and grinding his cock down onto Magnus’ thigh in tight little circles.
“Whatever,” Magnus says, unable to stop himself from reaching a hand between them and stroking himself once, hard, for some relief. “Anything, god, Alec, just touch me-” Magnus expects Alec to push his hand away, to wrap his long, strong fingers around him. Maybe some more messy kissing, a desperate race to the finish. He does not expect Alec to stutter “Oh- oh, okay,” then start to slide slowly down, mouthing kisses into Magnus’ chest and belly, his lips sliding over the ridges of muscle and skin.
Magnus realizes where this is going and gasps, one hand flinging out as a small fireball bursts from his fingers and shatters one of the pictures on the wall.
Alec looks up, startled, the mood broken momentarily. “Uh,” he says.
“Ignore me, that was embarrassing,” Magnus says, putting a hand over his eyes. “I won’t hurt you, I promise.” He hates when he has to say that during sex, like he’s just...dangerous for existing.
Alec bites him softly, making him jump. Magnus pulls his hand away from his eyes and looks down at Alec, who’s smiling up at him, bright and open and radiant. “I know,” he says quietly, bending to kiss Magnus’ hip, where his skin is stretched tight over bone and muscle, stinging slightly from where Alec has just bitten him. “I know you would never hurt me.”
It’s too much, that trust, that faith, after everything they’ve been through, after their first time together and the wedding and the Clave- Magnus can’t believe either of them have that capacity for innocent belief anymore, but in this moment, he’s so grateful that they do. “I know, darling,” he says, finally. “I know.”
Alec smiles again, brilliant, incandescent, and kisses Magnus’ hip again, with just a hint of teeth. “Can I keep-?” he asks, clearly unsure if the moment was broken.
“Oh, I wish you would,” Magnus says, tugging gently on Alec’s hair to pull him up for a kiss. He doesn’t miss the way Alec’s eyes fall shut and his mouth falls slack, a breath hitching in his throat when he pulls just a touch too hard, and Magnus is overwhelmingly aroused again. He wants to pull, to push, to show Alec every trick he’s learned in his hundreds of years of life, make him beg and take him apart. Magnus’ hands shake on Alec’s jaw as a hundred thousand images flash behind his eyes. Magnus has a very, very good imagination.
But tonight isn’t about that. They have time for that later, and Magnus knows how to appreciate the power of anticipation. “As you were, darling?” he says, releasing Alec from the kiss.
This time, there is no hesitant kissing or gentle foreplay. Alec bends down, wrapping his hand around Magnus’ cock and mouthing at the head. It’s almost unbearable, the gentle licking and teasing. It isn’t enough pressure, not enough heat, but it’s just enough to make Magnus arch off the bed and yank the sheets in his fists, a soft moan escaping his lips. Magnus likes to play the master in bed, cool and experienced, controlling his reactions and only letting himself go as part of the carefully curated Magnus Bane Sexual Experience. But Alec deserves nothing more than his total honesty, every reaction, every shudder, every moan. It’s freeing, not having to think about it, not having to hold back. Magnus feels deeply present in his body, the sheets shifting beneath him, Alec’s hot mouth licking at him with longer, surer strokes, his hand gently pumping up and down, the slight breeze from an open window drifting across his face...Magnus blinks the sweat out of his eyes and sinks into himself, each sensation coalescing into insistent, almost unbearable arousal.
Magnus catches himself pushing up into Alec’s mouth, hips stuttering, his cock sliding off Alec’s wet, reddened lips in a slick slide. “Magnus,” Alec gasps. “I can’t- I need-” he closes his eyes and gasps again, almost a whine this time, high and desperate. “I’m gonna-”
“Yes,” Magnus says, canting his hips up. He could come from the noises Alec is making alone. “Alexander, yes.” At that, Alec scrambles up the bed, his usual grace completely gone. He’s hot and desperate, biting and kissing Magnus’ neck and groaning into his ear as he thrusts into Magnus’ sweat-slick hip. “Like that,” Magnus hisses, grabbing Alec’s ass and holding him down as he grinds tight against him. “Let go, my darling.” And Alec does, freezing mid-thrust to push down, his breath caught in his throat, muscles locked, cock pulsing hot and wet, coating Magnus’ stomach and chest. The sight of him, more than the heat or the pressure or the slick slide of his come, the sight of him flushed and wrecked and shaking, a smile teasing at the corner of his mouth, that’s what does it for Magnus, the feelings of the past few days overwhelming him as he cries out and follows him, riding wave after wave of pleasure, tears stinging in his eyes.
Magnus blinks his eyes open when he feels Alec’s thumb brush gently underneath his eyes, wiping away the wetness there.
“Are you okay?” Alec’s voice is soft, his expression concerned. Magnus has no idea how he’s holding himself up. Magnus himself feels like he might melt into the mattress, the strength of his orgasm combined with the release of days of tension leaving him boneless and giddy.
“Perfect,” he says, and is rewarded with Alec’s bright smile before he leans in for a kiss. Kissing Alec still feels like a revelation as Magnus slowly wraps his mind around the fact that he can have this. Not just for now, not just for tonight. Of all the luxuries he’s surrounded himself with, time- time with Alec and his increasingly confident kisses- suddenly seems like the most precious luxury of all.
Alec pulls away and finally seems to lose the last of the will to hold himself up, tilting over and dropping onto the pillows next to Magnus. Magnus takes the opportunity to banish the cooling stickiness covering them. Maybe later they can shower together, but right now he doesn’t want to move unless it’s to move closer to Alec.
Alec seems to agree because he squirms until he’s up against Magnus’ side, arm draped around his waist. Magnus curls one arm around his shoulders and pulls him closer. He’s pretty sure he’ll never be able to have Alec close enough.
“Hey,” Alec says, smiling goofily up at Magnus.
“Hey,” Magnus says, sure his smile is just as ridiculous.
“Thank you,” Alec says.
“For what, darling?”
“For coming back for me. For not giving up on me, even though I pushed you away. Even though I- I lied to you. I-”
“Hey,” Magnus says. He shifts so they’re facing each other, so close that everything beyond Alec’s face is blurry. “None of that.” He feels more than sees Alec bite his lip. “I have a lot to apologize for too.”
“You don’t. Magnus-”
“Shhh.” Magnus stops Alec’s words with a kiss. “Neither of us were really our bests for a while there.” Alec huffs out a laugh and shakes his head. “But nothing is ruined. We’re here now, right?”
“Yeah.” Alec closes his eyes and moves the few centimeters it takes to lean his forehead against Magnus.’ Magnus closes his own eyes and tries to memorize the feeling of Alec so warm and so close. Not because it will be gone soon, but because a memory as precious as this will never be a burden.
“And tomorrow morning we’ll still be here,” Magnus whispers. “And I’ll make us breakfast.”
“No you won’t,” Alec says. The words are soft and vague. He’s falling asleep. “You’ll just summon it from somewhere.”
“I’ll summon us breakfast,” Magnus agrees. “Whatever you want.”
Alec doesn’t answer, his breaths slow and even. Magnus wants to open his eyes, to see what Alec looks like asleep, but his eyelids are heavy and he’s warm and comfortable. There will be time to watch Alec sleep.
Right before he falls under, he thinks he hears a voice, far away but fond.
Well done, old friend. Well done.