It’s the first night Alec’s spent in his bed at the Institute in weeks and now Alec finds that everything feels unfamiliar. The mattress makes noises when he shifts. The sheets are soft from years of washing, but they don’t glide against his skin. The light from the windows is the wrong shade, coming from the wrong angle. There’s no body beside him, stealing the covers and churning out heat like a furnace.
He can’t sleep.
The last time he slept here was right after they got back from Lake Lyn. He remembers curling up right here, facing the window and running through everything that happened that day. The pain and the emptiness of his parabatai rune disappearing. The cold look on Magnus’ face when he answered the door. He remembers that he closed his eyes and made a promise to himself that he would talk to Magnus the next day, try to make it right. And it had worked, and he hasn’t slept a night in this bed since.
He and Magnus have developed something of a ritual about going to bed in the weeks since. A routine, at least, and now Alec finds that without it he feels restless and unready to sleep, despite how tired he is. He had to borrow a phone charger from Izzy because he hadn’t expected to spend the night here and his is at Magnus’. This is exactly the kind of thing that could be avoided by – he thinks and then stops because his heart gives a strange lurch and his gut turns over when he thinks about it. It’s not – Alec’s probably making a big deal out of nothing. The last time he spent a night in this bed, he and Magnus weren’t together. He didn’t know if they’d ever be together. Now they’re not broken up anymore. They’re not even fighting, not really. There’s no – there’s no reason to be upset, not really.
He should just buy a second phone charger so this doesn’t happen again. That’s probably what people do, in relationships. Just buy another phone charger, not ask their centuries old, far more experienced boyfriend if they can move in. If Magnus’ gentle, devastating rejection hadn’t been enough, there’s the way that Izzy’s eyes had widened in surprise when he told her about it, letting him know that this is not a thing that normal people do. Just Alec, bumbling his way through, and fucking it up more often than not.
Magnus told him once, what seems like forever ago, that some people thought he was too much. Alec wonders what it’s like for him to be on the other side of that now. It beats like a mantra inside his head. Too much, too soon, too much, too soon. His parabatai problems and his family problems and his snoring, probably, and whatever else he does that’s annoying, taking up too much space, too soon. Taking things too far, again.
He sits up abruptly, hoping the change in position will help change the direction of his thoughts. He picks up his phone to check the time and wonders if he should just get dressed and take a shift in the Ops center. It would be more productive than what he’s doing now. He nearly drops it when it buzzes in his hand, Magnus’ picture lighting up the screen. For one brief second he considers not answering, because he’s tired and he can really only take so much in one day, but that’s not who he is so he slides his thumb across the screen and picks up before the second ring.
“Hey,” he says.
“Hey,” Magnus says softly. Alec wonders if he’s in bed too. If he’s taken off his makeup and washed his face, settled into the piles of pillows he likes to use. All the things that Alec has gotten used to seeing as he falls asleep. After a few seconds of silence, Magnus says, “Alec, I–” then he stops. Alec wonders if he’s supposed to say something. To press Magnus, or to reassure him, or what. Nine times out of ten Alec will just do something, bluff his way through and hope it all turns out for the best, but that hasn’t worked out for him so far today, so he finds that he’s out of ideas.
Finally, Magnus seems to find his own words. He says, “Alec, when I said I thought it was too early to move in together I didn’t mean I didn’t want you here tonight.” He sounds small and sad and Alec hates that, but he also doesn’t understand what else he was supposed to do.
“Magnus, that doesn’t –” make sense, is what he wants to say. Because if Magnus doesn’t want him to move in it means that sometimes he wants Alec to not be there, and Alec hasn’t slept at the Institute in weeks. Alec has spent the last few weeks making himself at home there and apparently that’s not what he’s supposed to do. “I thought you needed space,” Alec says instead. “I thought that’s what you meant.”
“I don’t need space from you,” Magnus says. “It’s just …”
“Too much,” Alec says, and takes a deep breath that he hopes it doesn’t sound as shaky as it feels.
“It’s not too much,” Magnus says. “It’s –”
“It’s okay if it is,” Alec says. “I don’t know what I’m doing, so sometimes you have to tell me. I’m sorry.”
“You don’t have to apologize,” Magnus says. “I find what you’re doing to be working remarkably well.” He says it lightly, teasingly, but it falls flat. He seems to realize it when Alec doesn’t reply. “It’s not that I’ll never want to move in together, Alec.”
“I know,” Alec says. And he does. He does know that. Magnus just needs more time. But Alec is perfectly aware that their time together is a finite thing. Constantly, hyper-aware that all the decades of Alec’s life are a mere drop in the bucket compared to all of Magnus’. Is it bad that he wants to spend as much of it as possible with Magnus?
“Can I expect you tomorrow night?” Magnus asks. It sounds like he’s unsure of the answer, and Alec maybe be unsure of a lot of things, may be stumbling his way through life with no surety at all, but he doesn’t want Magnus to be unsure of him.
“Of course,” he says.
He can do this. He can spend his nights with Magnus and live at the Institute, a constant state of in between that he finds unsettling. But he can do it for Magnus. He can buy another fucking phone charger.
“I love you,” Magnus says.
And when Alec says, “I love you” back, well, that’s one thing he’s very sure of.
Magnus wakes fully when he rolls over and comes up against empty air instead of the body he was expecting. The sheets are cool under his hand - Alec’s been gone a while. For a second, Magnus panics, his chest feeling suddenly hollow with despair. He knew Alec wasn’t okay last night, despite his assurances. He thought maybe he should give Alec time, but maybe he should have pressed. Then he picks up the scent of coffee and bacon, the clinking of silverware, and his panic subsides as abruptly as it came, leaving him jumpy and out of sorts.
Well, he’s wide awake now.
This is the first time that he and Alec went to sleep together but he’s woken up alone. It isn’t pleasant. He doesn’t like it. They’ve only been waking up together for a few weeks and already Magnus doesn’t want to give it up.
Then what did you think you were doing, telling him he couldn’t move in? What do you think that even means?
Magnus grimaces and slips out of bed. He shrugs on his robe, taking the time to make sure it falls just so. After a second’s hesitation he magics on his eyeliner. It’s one of his tells, but he’s betting on the fact that Alec won’t call him on it today. This is like, the fourth morning in a row I’ve woken up to an empty bed, Alec had said to him, some weeks ago. Even then Alec had seen through Magnus’ masks far too easily. It was disconcerting. It still is.
When he walks out of the bedroom he see the table already set elaborately and impeccably, with coffee and orange juice waiting. The orange juice is fresh squeezed and Magnus knows for a fact there were no oranges in his loft last night. He frowns. Alec must have been up for hours to do all this. He slides a finger along the edge of a napkin: a crisp fold and a perfect right angle. Magnus wonders if Alec knows he has his own tells.
He drifts over the kitchen. As he gets closer he can hear something sizzling. He stops in the doorway to watch Alec, spatula in hand, staring intently down at a frying pan. In a hoodie that’s only halfway zipped, bare feet, and absolutely adorable bedhead, he looks, quite literally, like one of Magnus’ dreams come true.
You could have this every day, his traitorous mind reminds him. You want him here all the time. He wants to be here. Instead you’ve made everything awkward. You’re an idiot.
Maybe he is. But he’s a cautious idiot. At least, he’s trying to be cautious, where he can. He couldn’t help falling for Alec so hard and so fast, but he can make sure that they don’t move so quickly that they burn out. The way Magnus feels for Alec … it terrifies him. And it’s still all so new. He can’t help the persistent and unwelcome thought that at some point the shine is going to wear off and Alec will realize he has plenty more options – better options than a warlock who will never be able to grow old with him. Better to give to them time. Time to settle into this thing. Time to work out the kinks. Both definitions, if he’s lucky.
“Good morning,” he says softly.
Alec looks up and smiles. It’s a slightly twisted smile that doesn’t quite reach his eyes, but it’s a smile. “Hey,” he says.
Magnus finally gives in to the urge to go over and touch. He wraps his arms around Alec’s waist from behind and presses a kiss to the nape of his neck. Alec’s tense muscles relax, just a little bit. “Have you been up long?”
Alec shrugs and says nothing, which is just as well because he’s a terrible liar.
Magnus doesn’t know how to fix this. Has never known how to move his relationships on from this particular problem. His immortality is an immutable, unchangeable fact. He can’t make anyone be okay with it, and he’s understood it every time anyone wasn’t. He understood why they chose to leave. He’d understand if Alec chose to leave. He just really hopes he doesn’t. He desperately wants Alec to be the one to stay. His strategy of battering Alec with the harshest version of the truth and seeing if he can handle it may be the worst possible way to try to make that happen, but he can’t sugarcoat the consequences of his immortality. If Alec really can’t handle it, it’s probably better to know now.
His own body makes a liar of him. His arms don’t want to let go of Alec.
“French toast?” he asks, peeking around Alec’s shoulder.
“Don’t worry, I tested it,” Alec says.
“I never doubted you for a second,” Magnus says. He can’t see Alec’s face, but he can feel him rolling his eyes.
“It’s almost done,” Alec says. Magnus take the hint and forces himself to loosen his grip on Alec’s waist.
“How about I put on some music?”
“Sure.”
Magnus takes his time picking a record and tries to tame the dread pooling in his gut. Alec is here. Despite everything, Alec is here and making breakfast. Magnus should take his own advice and enjoy the moment.
Savor the moment with the one you love. Who knows how much longer you’ll get.
Magnus carefully places the needle on the record and goes to pour himself a cup of coffee.
The knock on the door comes when Magnus has just started his third glass of whisky. Three glasses of whisky is barely enough for Magnus to feel it, but just enough for him to start getting sad. That he’s drinking whisky at all is another one of his tells, but he’d figured no one would be around tonight to see it. It had only taken until his second glass of whisky to regret that.
He regrets snapping at Alec. He’s not handling this whole thing well, he knows that. Neither of them are, but Magnus is only one of them old enough to know better. But he has never handled this subject well. Over the centuries he’s swung wildly between overinvestment and indifference and he doesn’t think he’ll ever be able to be indifferent with Alec.
Another knock, more insistent this time. Magus sighs and sets his whisky aside. He intends to tell whoever it is to go away. He’s in no state to be taking clients. But when he opens the door he finds himself speechless. There is a Shadowhunter on his doorstep, a blond, non-Jace Shadowhunter, and he has Alec’s arm slung around his shoulder and Alec’s face mashed into his shoulder.
For one breathless, horrible moment Magnus thinks, you told him he didn’t have enough experience so he went out and got some, good going Magnus, you idiot.
“Um, Magnus Bane?” Not Jace says, and Magnus snaps back to reality to see that this Shadowhunter is holding Alec up because Alec can’t stand on his own. Magnus jumps forward.
“What happened?” he demands. He catches Alec’s other arm and shoves his shoulder under Alec’s armpit. He doesn’t see any blood, but Alec’s jacket is in the way.
“Nothing,” the Shadowhunter says. “Well, except a lot of gin.”
Magnus stops and Alec nearly tumbles from their arms. “What?”
“He’s very drunk,” the Shadowhunter confirms. “Can we…”
“Right,” Magnus says and leads them all to the bedroom.
The Shadowhunter sighs in relief when they get Alec onto the bed. “Sorry,” he says. “We were two blocks from here when decided sleep was a great idea. He is not light.”
Alec says something too low to hear and curls up around Magnus’ pillow. It only takes a little magic to get Alec into sweatpants and under the covers. Alec seems to barely notice, now snoring softly. Magnus turns to the other Shadowhunter.
“Thank you …”
“John,” he says, holding out his hand. “Underhill.”
“Thank you, John,” Magnus says, shaking his hand. “Thanks for getting him home.” His voice catches on the word and he really hopes John doesn’t notice. Lilith, he’s a mess. Alec may be the one passed out drunk on the bed, but only because Magnus has an inhumanly high alcohol tolerance. He briefly wonders if he’s been a bad influence on Alec and then dismisses the thought, because even if he has been, it’s probably too late to turn back now.
“Not a problem,” John says, making his way out of the bedroom. “Alec’s been … well, he’s a good boss.”
Magnus is pleased to hear that Alec is finally getting some Shadowhunters who appreciate his leadership, but it’s a faint though. His mind is already turning back to Alec. But John stops a few feet from the door and turns back to him.
“Um, Mr. Bane-”
“Magnus is fine.”
“Magnus,” John says. “I know it’s not my place, but Alec said some stuff while we were at the bar and …” He shoves a hand through his hair. “I don’t want to break a confidence, but I don’t think he’ll tell you when he’s sober.”
“Okay,” Magnus says, even though it’s not okay. He wants to shove this Shadowhunter out of his apartment, seal his mouth with magic. He is certain he doesn’t want to hear what John is about to tell him. That Alec doesn’t think he can do this. That immortality to much of a burden. But he sets his jaw and crosses his arm over his chest. Better to know now. It won’t hurt any less, but it will save Alec years of effort on an ultimately fruitless relationship.
John fiddles with the cuffs of his jacket. “I’m gay,” he says abruptly. Magnus blinks. “And I’ve always had to hide, my whole life. Being here, in New York, it’s the first time I’ve ever been able to be out with my own people. What Alec did – what you and he are doing, it’s changing things. Changing lives.”
Something in Magnus that was waiting on the precipice of destruction softens. Because he’s always known that Alec’s courage and conviction had incredible power, and here is the evidence. "I’m glad,” he says, completely sincere.
“Yeah, well,” John huffs out a soft laugh. “I tried to tell him. He didn’t seem to get it.”
“What do you mean?”
“I mean, he doesn’t think what he did was a big deal. Or really, that he’s big deal for doing it.” John looks straight at Magnus, his eyes insistent, willing Magnus to get it. “He doesn’t think he’s special."
Understanding blooms in Magnus’ mind. Conversations slot into place, suddenly making a completely different kind of sense. "Oh,” Magnus says.
“Yeah,” John says, seemingly satisfied. “Anyway, Isabelle said she’d cover the morning, so barring an emergency, he doesn’t have to be in until the afternoon.”
“Thank you,” Magnus says, and it’s about so much more than Institute shift schedules.
When John is gone, Magnus goes back into the bedroom. He toes off his shoes and climbs into bed. Alec detaches himself from the pillow and cuddles up to Magnus’ side, arms around his waist. Magnus runs his hands through Alec’s hair and is overwhelmed all over again by the vastness of his love for this man.
“Oh, darling,” he says quietly, “you are going to be hurting in the morning.” Alec mumbles something into Magnus’ shirt and tightens his arms, trying to get Magnus closer. “We’ve been having two entirely different conversations, haven’t we?” They’ve both been letting their fear guide them, but for the first time in days, Magnus thinks he can see a way past them. “You are special, Alexander Lightwood. You’ve already changed my life completely. I think you’re going to keep changing it.”
Alec’s only answer is another snore. That’s okay. Magnus might finally be ready to tell him that when he’s awake. He snaps himself into some pajamas and scoots under the covers. They’re going to have a conversation in the morning. Magnus thinks it’s going to be okay.