#k.sh.fic

[bisexualmarvelmagnusbane]

so i’ll hand you over all of me (malec)

alec gets drunk for the first time and goes to magnus. trigger warning for discussions of child abuse (alec’s childhood; canon typical levels) and for the use of alcohol as a method of self-harm (also alec). more detailed warnings at ao3. (this post does have a read more on it, fyi in case you can’t see it on mobile.) read on ao3 | my other malec fics

Magnus doesn’t answer the door, because Alec doesn’t knock. He just opens it, to find Alec collapsing beside it in the hallway.

“Alexander.” He rushes to Alec, one hand going to his chest, the other to his face, wondering just how many loved ones he’s going to have to catch falling in his door. He starts to ask Alec if he’s hurt when the smell of alcohol overwhelms him.

“Oh Alec,” he murmurs as Alec trips over what might be an apology and the threshold, slipping in Magnus’ grasp.

“I did it; I got drunk,” Alec informs him, bitter and slurred. His hands slide over Magnus like he’s forgotten how to hold on. He knocks his forehead against the side of Magnus’ head, a painful display of affection that makes Magnus wince.

“Alec,” Magnus says, more or less pulling Alec to the nearest chair. “What happened?”

Alec shakes his head, face scrunched as he refuses to answer. Magnus sees him regret the motion almost instantly, a hand going clumsily to his mouth as he blurts, “’m gonna –” and uses Magnus as a push off point to get to the bathroom. His legs splay beneath him as he stumbles towards it and Magnus, close behind him, slips under his shoulder to hold him up.

They drop to the floor of Magnus’ bathroom when they get there, Alec heaving into the toilet before Magnus has even disentangled himself from him. “Oh sweetheart,” Magnus soothes, running tender fingers through the sweat-curled hair at Alec’s nape as he shifts back to give Alec the room he needs. “My Alec.” The second endearment is spoken too low for Alec to hear, Magnus holding it sweetly on his tongue.

With his free hand, Magnus summons his phone and sends a quick text to Isabelle and Jace. Izzy replies almost immediately with Oh he's with you, thank god and Jace says nothing, but the relief he feels is so strong that Magnus can sense it flood over the parabatai bond through the hand he has on Alec. He sends the phone away again as Alec turns towards him, done. Magnus sees dried tear tracks on his face. His chest folds in on itself at the sight, making it hard to breathe.

“It's so – hot, Magnus,” Alec whines, pulling at the collar of his shirt, trying to make his way to the buttons of the henley, but all he manages to do is increase his own frustration. Magnus can't help the small puff of laughter that illicits.

“All right, all right,” Magnus soothes, gently laying his hands over Alec's. “Let me help.” Alec's hands drop as he lets Magnus take care of unbuttoning his shirt and laying the collar open. “Better?”

Alec considers. “No,” he answers finally, petulant, and starts trying to pull the shirt off by the sleeves.

Magnus smiles at his clumsy attempts, endeared even in his worry. “Hey,” he interrupts, stilling Alec's hands again. “Let me.” He slips his hands to Alec's waist and pushes the shirt up Alec's chest, guiding it over Alec's head as Alec crosses his arms to pull it off his back. His arms are still stuck in it, trapped in front of him and before he can get irritated, Magnus grabs the end of one sleeve and slides it off right side out, then does the same with the other as Alec watches.

“Thanks. Tha'z better,” Alec says, without a trace of anything resembling embarrassment in the slight slur, and Magnus is struck by just how uninhibited he is. How vulnerable he's made himself. Magnus brings the wards around the loft up, unwilling to be barged in on with Alec in this state. He feels sorry already about what kind of a night it's going to be for Alec.

Alec leans back against the wall, slumped and graceless. Magnus conjures a cool, damp washcloth and wipes the sweat from Alec’s brow and cheeks with it as gently as he can, washing the salt and sweat away. For a few moments, there's peace as Alec's breathing slows. Magnus hopes against hope that he's gotten past being sick, but the hope is hardly even formed before Alec is reaching desperately for the toilet again, Magnus helping him to it with a hand hooked around his back pushing against his shoulder blade.

He heaves until he has nothing left to bring up, Magnus wincing along, and hovers over the toilet for a long time, knuckles white as he grips the seat, eyes scrunched closed. Finally, he relaxes back against the wall again, looking wretchedly at the toilet, then wretchedly up at Magnus. “This is awful,” he rasps.

Magnus smiles knowingly, the expression tinged in sympathy, and brushes Alec's hair back, fingertips lingering against his forehead. “It's going to get worse,” he warns.

Alec balls his fists together against his stomach, forlorn. “Oh no.”

“Honey,” Magnus starts, kind, “do you want me to fix it?” He brings golden magic to his fingertips.

Alec stares at the swirling magic like Adam at the apple, all want and self-loathing. The look is so fierce and pained that Magnus almost rescinds the offer just to end it.

But then something gives in Alec's face. He mutters, “'s so pretty,” swaying close enough to the magic to be lit by the glow of it, gold tinging his cheekbones and lips. He's gorgeous like this, magic-kissed; Magnus feels his heart shudder beneath his ribs, his wrists throbbing in time. Alec tilts his head to look away from the magic toward Magnus, his expression something enraptured, and startling in its softness. Clumsily, but with great care, he brings his hand up over one of Magnus' eyes to brush his thumb over Magnus' browbone. “You, too.”

Magnus holds his breath. Doesn't dare move, not even to close his eyes beneath the touch. He traces the love line on Alec's palm; it glints with sweat and promise.

“No,” Alec says abruptly, finally answering Magnus' question, his hand dropping and taking Magnus' heart with it. “I worked really – hard – on this.” He waves a shaking hand at himself and the bathroom, then leans in to whisper to Magnus, who leans in to listen. “Had to drink so much vodka.”

Magnus pulls back sharply, the lingering magic in his palm vanishing with a crack. “You're drunk on vodka? Alec, you hate vodka.”

Alec nods. “I fucked up.” He says it like an explanation, flopping back against the wall at an odd angle and struggling to push himself upright again. Magnus has gone ice cold clear through and can't reach out to help.

“You're punishing yourself.” The words taste like vinegar in Magnus' mouth.

Uncomfortable, Alec shifts his weight.

“Alexander,” Magnus pleads. “Please tell me what happened.”

Alec shakes his head, harder and faster as Magnus tries to coax any information at all out of him, all supplication and endearments.

“Please,” Alec pants finally, begging, tears started anew. “I don't – I don't want you to know, Magnus.”

Magnus grabs Alec with both hands and gathers him up hard against his chest, before he's even thought about doing it.

“Okay,” he soothes, rubbing Alec's trembling back and sweeping the knuckles of the other hand across Alec's cheek. Tears coat the back of his hand. He murmurs the words into Alec's hair, heartsick. “It's okay, Alec. I'm sorry, you don't have to tell me. I love you, I'm sorry, I love you.”

Shaking, Alec pushes against Magnus' chest, giving himself enough room to pull back to look at him, but he loses the nerves when he starts to speak. “Are you sure?” he asks, hands clenching into fists against Magnus' chest. “I mean, after – ” He doesn't go on and Magnus is left confused.

“Am I – what?” Magnus reaches for Alec's face, but stops when Alec flinches. For a long while it looks like Alec isn't going to repeat himself, but then he squares his shoulders and looks intently at Magnus, like Magnus is beautiful and precious and incomprehensible and something he wants to have forever. He lifts gentle, shaking hands to Magnus’ face, fingertips at brow and cheekbone. The touch is so soft it makes Magnus tremble.

“Are you sure you love me?”

Magnus' stomach drops with such force he fears he's going to be sick. “Oh god,” he chokes.

“I-I don't – what –” Alec's breathing quickens in his panic and Magnus vicioiusly swallows the emotions he’s choking on.

“Of course, dear heart,” he says. Slowly, making sure Alec is ready for it this time, Magnus brings their faces together, hands cradling Alec’s jaw. They breathe into each other’s mouths. Magnus can taste the vodka in the back of his throat. “I’m sure. I love you. I love you so much, Alec.”

Alec's whole body goes limp at the reassurance, his entire weight resting in Magnus' hands and the magic he summons to help him keep Alec upright.

“That’s good.” Alec says faintly.

“Yes,” Magnus agrees. “It is good.” He takes several moments to collect himself, still forehead-to-forehead with Alec, waiting until Alec's breathing settles into a regular rhythm.

“I've never been more sure of anything, you know,” he says then, quiet, “than I am that I love you. Alexander.”

Alec considers this, fingers wrapped around Magnus' throbbing wrists, and a softness comes to the set of his shoulders. “Me too, Magnus,” he says and leans forward to plant a sloppy kiss above the corner of Magnus' mouth – clearly not where he'd been aiming. Magnus smiles beneath it.

“You need to drink some water,” he tells Alec once Alec's moved on to nuzzling into the side of his face. He helps Alec ease back against the wall again, but hovers close, his bent knees resting on either side of one of Alec's sprawled legs.

Alec meets the idea with open disdain. “I’ll just –” he brings an exhausted hand up along his throat, flicking his wrist as it passes his mouth.

“You might,” Magnus concedes. “But it’ll be better than throwing up stomach acid.”

Alec considers this. “...Prolly true,” he acquiesces finally. Magnus magicks a glass of water for him, carefully making it just below room temperature to soothe without upsetting. Alec has to grip it with both hands. Magnus brushes his fingertips along Alec's temple while he drinks.

“Easy,” he chides, when Alec goes to down the whole glass. “You're always double or nothing. Here.” He takes the glass back, substituting his hand for it in Alec's grip, his thumb rubbing at the inside of Alec's wrist. He waits a beat and says, “Alec? I don't want to upset you by asking, but are you sure that don't want me to make you feel better?”

“Had worse.” Alec shrugs in answer. “When I was – twelve? twelve – I got food poisoning.” He shudders and Magnus sympathy shudders alongside him. “And I still had training and got a new rune that day, too. Didn’t want to but.” He shrugs again. “Threw up on dad’s shoes, in front of everybody. He –” he waves a hand weakly, “not happy.” His voice darkens with remembered shame. “Mom neither.”

Turning away, Magnus puts a hand to his mouth. The thought of a preteen Alec pushed to work through illness – and only to receive disappointment – is stomach-churning. He thinks again that Alec won't be the only one getting sick tonight.

“Didn’t eat before new runes after that,” Alec says, decisive and proud, as though that were the obvious solution to that problem. For a while they’re silent, Alec tired and Magnus horror-stricken, and then Alec grabs for the toilet again, dragging himself up to divest himself of the water.

Magnus cools the washcloth again with a snap of magic and lays it gently on the back of Alec's neck, his heart aching.

They’re quiet then for a long time after that round has passed as Magnus prompts Alec through drinking more water. Magnus thinks that maybe the talking portion of Alec’s escapade in drunkenness has passed. He might be a little relieved. But then Alec looks at him sideways once before saying, “You know,” conspiratorially and Magnus knows they’re not. “I broke a kid’s nose once.”

“Oh,” Magnus says, uncertain. “Good for you.”

“I was also a kid,” Alec clarifies, “at the time.”

Magnus nods. “That does help.”

“We were training. I didn’t...really mean to break his nose; I mean I didn’t mean not to but – it was training. I was finally getting it right.” He lifts a shoulder. “He was the son of a higher-up so I got in big time trouble for it. Corporal punishment trouble.” He lifts an eyebrow like what he’s saying isn’t horrifying. “Lashes. Back before they quit doing that.”

“How old were you?” Magnus asks, anguished. His voice is shaking, but Alec doesn’t notice.

Alec thinks for a moment. “Ten,” he says. He leans forward, smiling. “No one even knew it hurt – I couldn’t lay on my back for a week – but no one knew,” he tells Magnus. Magnus blanches when he realizes that he’s bragging about bearing the pain. “Mom was really proud of me, cuz I never said a word the whole time.”

“God, Alexander.” Magnus feels bile rise in his throat. He's unsure how much more of this he can take. Someone needs to save Maryse Lightwood’s children, he thinks helplessly, reaching for Alec. And Maryse from herself. And from me.

He lays a hand against Alec's jaw. “Fucking Shadowhunters,” he laments, voice breaking. “The things they do to their children.”

“Not my children,” Alec protests, offended. “Never let them lay a hand on ours, Magnus, I promise.”

Magnus nearly swallows his tongue. “I know,” he assures Alec, voice tight as he fights to keep himself together. “I know you won't.”

Alec nods, patting Magnus' arm. Magnus' hand slips up to Alec's cheek and Alec leans into it, sighing. “I’m tired,” he says, eyes fluttering closed. “Can I sleep?”

“Please,” Magnus begs. “Please do.”

“Okay,” Alec says and falls asleep in Magnus' hands.

Magnus takes a moment to compose himself, watching the rise and fall of Alec's chest and timing his own breaths to Alec's. When he's calm enough to summon the magic required, he gently gathers Alec’s long frame and guides his unconscious, floating form to his bed. He slides Alec's shoes and pants off and brings the blanets over him, running a tender hand over Alec's brow and temple. Alec nuzzles into Magnus' palm, curling onto his side and pulling Magnus down with him in his sleep. Magnus goes willingly, curving his body around Alec's as best he can, one leg hooked over Alec's waist in a way that is both awkward and uncomfortable, but he couldn't care less.

“Magnus,” Alec says suddenly and Magnus realizes that he must have fallen asleep and Alec must have woken up. He's quivering beneath Magnus. “'s all my fault. Tonight – it was my fault.”

Fully awake in an instant, Magnus has the sudden overwhelming urge to murder every single living being that has ever made Alec feel responsible for things he’s not responsible for – to do it bloody, from the inside out. With a violent snap of his fingers above their heads, he sends a burst of magic from his palm into his living room. It’s loud as it destroys whatever of his possessions that it hits. Alec starts, jerking despite Magnus' weight still on him.

“I'm sorry,” Magnus murmurs, placing a calming hand on Alec’s back. “I'm not mad at you, Alec.” He takes a moment to calm himself as well as Alec, draws the rage out of every limb to let it sit simmering low in his stomach. He sits up, to better handle this, keeping his hands on Alec as he does. “It wasn't your fault, Alec,” he says, definitive, trying to push the truth of it through the air to Alec. “You did what you could.”

Alec looks unconvinced, gaze unflinchingly resting on Magnus' face as he sprawls below him on the bed. “You don't know, Magnus, you don't know what happened, you weren't there.”

“You're right,” Magnus grants. “But I know you, Alexander. I know you did everything you could to make things turn out right.” He pauses a moment, his hand shaking against Alec's upper arm. “I'm so sorry they didn't, dear heart.”

For several heart-stoppingly tense moments, Alec is silent. Finally, he rolls over and pulls himself up against Magnus' thighs, whispering, “Me too.” Magnus bends in half to lay across him in the closest they can come to a hug in this position. Alec shudders beneath him. “Thank you,” he murmurs and then, “When does my stomach stop feeling like it's got a shax demon in it?”

Magnus presses a smiling kiss into Alec's back and sits up, bringing a hand to Alec's cheek. “Day after tomorrow.”

Alec groans into Magnus' thigh.

“Unless you've changed your mind about letting me fix it?”

“No, um,” Alec licks his lips. “That's okay, I'll just – I'll just – I'll...sleep.” And before Magnus can say anything else, his body has relaxed into it, his grip on Magnus' legs going slack.

Magnus does not sleep again. Not that night and not for several nights after.

~|~

He fixes pancakes in the morning, piles of them, something he hasn't done in decades. Blueberry, strawberry, banana, chocolate chip, combinations thereof, and plain – all assembled into different stacks with a variety of toppings from whipped cream and fruit and cinnamon and syrup, artfully displayed, to some with only butter. His kitchen is covered in them by the time he hears Alec wake up. He lifts the plates with magic, a large glass of water along with them, and brings them all to his bedroom, where he leans down to kiss Alec's forehead, breakfast hovering above their heads.

“Good morning, Alexander,” he murmurs against Alec's skin, moving to kiss Alec's lips before Alec can  return the greeting. He feels Alec smile into the kiss. He pulls back and Alec sits up, grimacing.

“Breakfast will help,” Magnus says sympathetically, sitting beside him. “Do you have a pancake preference?”

Alec glances around at all the airborn plates in horror and then looks at Magnus like he's suggested Alec take a hacksaw to his own face.

“You're going to want to eat sooner rather than later, Alec,” Magnus insists, fond. “I know the thought alone is horrifying, but trust me. Also,” he adds, bringing the glass of water within reach to grab it and offer it to Alec, “try to drink your body weight in water, starting right now.”

Reluctant but trusting, Alec takes the glass and after a few sips, starts to warm up to the idea enough to take a genuine swallow, before handing the glass back to Magnus to be set on the bedside table and steeling himself to face the pancakes.

Magnus smiles and brings the plates lower, so Alec can see all the offerings. “Preference?” he asks again.

“Um, I've never actually...had pancakes.”

“Shadowhunters,” Magnus despairs and sees the memory hit Alec. He remains quiet, letting Alec decide what to do with the moment.

Alec shakes it off. “Izzy's the only one in my family who cooks – and she's awful,” he defends himself. “Well Jace does too sometimes,” he amends, “but you have to bribe him and it's never worth the price.”

Magnus laughs. “What did it cost you?”

“A month of answering phone calls from girls he'd slighted. God, he was a heel at 17.”

“Oh my, Alexander,” Magnus says, still laughing. “And what did that get you?”

“The best goddamn spaghetti I ever had.”

“You've never been tempted to ask for it again?”

Alec shakes his head, mock solemn. “I have an excellent memory of it and that's all I need.” He smiles as Magnus continues to laugh.

“Well,” Magnus says finally, “I'll guess you'll have to start with my favorite: Blueberry pancakes topped with bananas and strawberry syrup.” He brings that plate to his hand and sets the others down around the room. With a snap, he conjures two forks. “I hope you don't mind sharing,” he says with a grin, handing one to Alec.

Alec grins back at him. “Not at all.”

For a while, they eat in silence, both ravished and Alec's enthusiasm for the activity growing as he finds that it settles his stomach and lessens his headache, something he remarks on to Magnus with an unsurprised “You were right; you're always right” murmured through a mouthful of their second stack.

“I have a great deal of experience with hangovers,” Magnus admits, something in his voice bringing a weight to the conversation.

Alec pauses his eating, bringing the fork down to the plate on the bed between them. “I...said a lot of things last night, didn't I?” he says.

Neutrally, Magnus nods.

“I don't – ” he starts, and reconsiders. “I'm sorry.”

“Alexander,” Magnus says, emphatically. “You have nothing to be sorry for.”

Magnus can tell by the tilt of Alec's shoulders that Alec doesn't agree. “I didn't mean to-to make you take care of me.”

“Alec, it's a privilege.” Magnus takes Alec's hands in his. “I will always be here for you when you need me. That's what love does.” He brings his face closer to Alec's, looking him in the eye. “You wouldn't turn me away if I needed you, would you?”

Alec looks affronted at the very thought. “No, never. Magnus – never.”

Magnus smiles. “Then why should it be any different when you need me?”

“I shouldn't – I shouldn't – ”

“What? Need people?” Magnus tilts his head at him. “Alec.”

Cornered, Alec snaps, “I shouldn't have showed up drunk on your doorstep.” The look on his face after he's said it is one of triumph.

Magnus sighs and takes a moment before answering, running his hands slowly up and down the insides  of Alec's tense forearms. He finally stills his hands over Alec's clenched fists.

“I do wish you wouldn't hurt yourself, or cause yourself harm,” he starts. “But you're never an inconveinence to me, Alec. Or a burden.” He pauses, reaching for Alec's face, tracing the shape of his brow and jaw with his eyes. He brings his other hand to Alec's still-bare chest, above his heart. “You are the great gift of my life, Alexander. In all these centuries, nothing has meant more to me than you.” He pauses again, watching what he's saying settle into the lines of Alec's body. “Please don't ever feel the need to keep yourself from me,” he continues, “especially not for my sake. It will do the exact opposite of what you intend.”

Alec stares at him for a long, long time, eyes roving over his face, shoulders, chest, down to his waist, Alec's hands coming to follow along, running over the muscle of Magnus' thigh and calf and back up his side to his neck. Alec opens his mouth, a choked sound all he can make, and pulls Magnus towards him with a hand behind his neck. This kiss hits its mark, Alec's tongue passing between Magnus' lips and teeth with a tenderness so sweet and strong it starts Magnus shaking.

They pull apart, both panting, and Alec says, “I wish I knew how to tell you what you mean to me.”

Magnus vanishes the plate from the bed, grabbing Alec by the shoulders and pulling him on top of him as he lays back against the bed, spreading his legs for Alec to come to rest between them. “Show me,” he suggests in a husky whisper against Alec's cheek.

Alec's mouth roams every inch of Magnus that morning, tongue and teeth over every curve of muscle and every push of bone against skin. He brings Magnus close with that eager, earnest mouth only to back off – over and over until Magnus is whimpering with love and need, his body aglow and magic sparking uncontrolled in his fingers, bringing warmth and dizzying pleasure to Alec when the sparks fly against his skin.

Magnus comes at the loving caress of Alec's tender hand to the sound of Alec moaning Magnus' name against his temple like it's the only word he'll ever say.

[bisexualmarvelmagnusbane]

shake your graveclothes off (malec)

magnus and alec, post 2x10, in love and together. (there is a read more on this post, fyi if you can’t see it on mobile.) read on ao3 | my other malec fics

They retire to Alec’s room at the institute after making sure that everybody is as good as they can be – Alec helps Izzy get comfortable in the infirmary, Jace at her side; Magnus checks in with Catarina about Madzie and places shaking hands on Simon and Raphael and Clary, so relieved to find them whole. Alec can’t stand the thought of being any farther than a hall away from Izzy and Magnus doesn’t have the energy to portal them to the loft anyway; mortal terror is exhausting.

They’re quiet as they undress, staying within arm’s-length of each other the whole time even as they fumble in their exhaustion. Alec pulls his shirt over his head and drops it and Magnus drops his coat on top to start a pile. They smile at each other, locking eyes until Alec gets distracted by his fingers tripping over the button on his pants. When looking at what he’s doing doesn’t help him get it done, Magnus steps over and gently pushes his hands away to handle the button and zipper for him. Alec drops his forehead onto Magnus’ shoulder and when Magnus pats Alec’s waist to signal that he’s free to carry on undressing, Alec doesn’t move. Magnus lets his hands rest where he’d patted then, turning his face into Alec’s cheek, lips pressed lightly against the first prick of stubble. Alec’s breath against his collarbone – laid bare as Alec unbuttons his shirt with tender, stumbling fingers – is warm and miraculous and nearly brings Magnus to tears.

Once he’s undone all the buttons on Magnus’ shirt and vest, Alec slips his hands beneath them to slide them off Magnus’ shoulders. His hands slide the clothes all the way down Magnus’ arms. They let them drop to the pile with the rest of the clothes, holding hands for a moment before continuing to undress themselves again.

Magnus’ rings get caught in his necklaces, which he doesn’t notice until Alec catches his wrist, keeping him from yanking on the necklaces and causing himself pain. Breathlessly, Magnus watches Alec untangle the jewelry. Alec has stopped halfway through taking his pants off to do so and Magnus has to catch him as he trips over his pant legs when he steps back after successfully freeing Magnus. They’re too tired to laugh, but they chuckle a little, Magnus’ hands wrapped around Alec’s wrists. They linger like that for so long they almost fall asleep standing up.

Eventually, reluctantly, Magnus’ fingers fall and Alec finally gets his pants slipped off. He steps towards the bed to turn the covers down, fluffing the pillow on Magnus’ side. Magnus still has not managed to begin moving again. Tears burning in the back of his throat, he says, “Alec.” And Alec, stunning in his knee-high socks and boxer briefs, comes back to him immediately, hands coming to his elbows, brow furrowed in concern as he brings his face down to make eye contact with Magnus.

“Kiss me,” Magnus asks, choking.

Alec’s lips come so quickly to Magnus’ that they land only partially on their target. The kiss continues inelegantly, messily; they’re exhausted and in love and relieved and coming down from a day of fear and adrenaline highs. They tremble in each other’s arms and gratefully kiss more skin than lips, tenderness and joy in every point of contact. Breathing hard, Alec rests his forehead on Magnus’ again in coveted closeness. He slides his hands down Magnus’ chest to the waist of Magnus’ pants, gently handling the button and zipper and pushing them down over Magnus’ hips. Magnus steps out of them, sliding them to the side with one foot. Alec pushes him towards the bed when they’re clear, spinning them slowly so that he can sit on the edge of the bed and pull Magnus to him.

With one of the tears he’s been choking on slipping down his cheek, Magnus takes the hint and straddles Alec, resting his weight gently across Alec’s thighs and wrapping his arms around Alec’s neck. Alec exhales, hard, the air brushing over Magnus’ nipples and making him shiver. “I love you,” Alec says, leaning forward to say the words against Magnus’ chest. Once he’s started, he can’t stop. “I love you I love you I love you I–”

“I love you, too; you too; you too; you too,” Magnus echoes, “I love you I love you I love–” speaking the words against Alec’s temple, into his hair, against the swell of his cheekbone, beneath his eye. He has the urge to cover every inch of Alec’s skin with it, like a spell to keep him safe. If only love – or magic – worked that way.

They repeat the declaration until their voices are hoarse and their muscles are trembling. With the last of his strength, Alec pulls them back towards the headboard with one hand, the other arm around Magnus’ waist to keep him steady against him.

Once settled again, Alec folds his knees up behind Magnus and burrows his face into the side of Magnus’ neck, both arms coming back around Magnus until he’s cradling Magnus with his entire body – and promptly falls asleep beneath the weight of him. For most of the night, Magnus remains awake in Alec’s hold, still except for the gentle tears falling into Alec’s hair. The feeling of Alec’s chest brushing his to the rhythm of Alec’s breaths is much more fulfilling than sleep.

But when he can’t put off his own rest any longer, he brings Alec down to the bed, a task he undertakes with some difficulty since Alec refuses to loosen his grip even in sleep. Alec snuffles discontentedly when they’re laid out on their sides front-to-front and Magnus pacifies him by hooking one of Alec’s legs over his waist and slipping one of his own legs between Alec’s, bringing them as close as can be managed. With a sigh, Alec nuzzles his way back to Magnus’ neck and is still.

In the morning, they wake in exactly the same position, hearts beating against each other’s chests. The look on Alec’s face makes Magnus think of prayers he’d forgotten he knew and isn’t sure he can say. He thinks he’ll try anyway. But before he can speak, Alec is sliding down Magnus’ body, peppering desperate, tender kisses down his chest and stomach and slipping his underwear down to get at his cock. Magnus gasps when Alec takes him in his mouth, prayers to all gods new and old, real and not, forgotten, replaced with Alec’s name.

He brings Alec back up with scrabbling fingers when he feels his orgasm coming, always brought with such force by Alec’s earnest tongue, and is kissing him as though he might slip inside him that way when he does come. Magnus trembles apart; the only parts of his body he’s sure are real are the parts beneath Alec’s hands.

When all of his pieces are back in their proper order, Magnus makes to return the favor, but the instant he pushes back to give himself the room he needs, Alec grabs him and pulls him back in. The desperate clutch of Alec’s hot hands is the tightest grip Alec’s ever had on him. “No, don’t,” Alec says, bringing trembling lips to the pulse point on Magnus’ neck. “Just – touch me instead, please? Stay…close.”

Magnus turns his head beneath the touch of Alec’s lips to press a kiss to Alec’s jaw. “All right, dear heart,” he murmurs, and slips a hand between them, magic in that palm to ease and enhance. Alec jerks at the first touch, the magic unexpected, but welcome; the moan it draws from him reverberates through Magnus’ entire body. Magnus uses all of Alec’s favorite tricks, pressing open-mouthed kisses to his cheek, his jaw, his neck as he does, biting gently at Alec’s ear when he can tell Alec is close.

Alec comes like his bones are collapsing, his whole body going suddenly, utterly gentle beneath Magnus’ touch. It is the least violent orgasm Alec has ever had and apparently the most satisfying as Alec drifts in the afterglow for longer than Magnus has ever seen him, something that Magnus counts as a blessing. Alec’s beautiful always, but especially when he’s loose-limbed and happy and basking in all the good feelings Magnus knows he deserves. There’s an openness to him in these moments that Magnus feels privileged to see and the press of his warm body against Magnus’ this morning is a holier thing than any angel blood could ever be.

Magnus shifts to get at Alec’s throat. “I love you, Alexander Lightwood,” he murmurs there. He will say this against all of Alec’s skin – and again after that.

“Magnus Bane,” Alec replies (somehow, the promise in his voice echoes back through all of Magnus’ centuries), “I love you, too.”

[bisexualmarvelmagnusbane]

all this muscle could never lift a thing without you (malec)

Magnus has a bad depression day and Alec helps. (This post does contain a read more, fyi for those of you on mobile, in case it isn’t showing up.)

This is set in the speak your bleeding heart ‘verse. Although reading that piece isn’t required for your understanding of this one, I would definitely recommend it. It’s all about Alec and Magnus being really handsy and good at talking, too, so if this interests you, it’s safe to say that will as well. read on ao3 | my other malec fics

“Hey, Magnus.” Alec pushes open the door to Magnus’ room and sees Magnus shudder at the sound. He’s curled on his side in bed, facing away from the door. Not at all where Alec expected him to be.

“Hey,” he says again, softer, soothing, as he sits on the bed beside Magnus. He places a gentle hand on Magnus’ arm. “What’s wrong?”

“It’s a bad. Day.” Magnus pushes the words past his lips like they’re boulders rolling up his fragile throat. “A bad – depression day.”

“Oh,” Alec says. “Would it help if I – ” He shifts to pull the covers up and slides carefully beneath them to press his chest to Magnus’ back, locking their knees and laying an arm around Magnus’ stomach.

“Yes,” Magnus whispers in answer, shaking with relief.

Alec slips his other arm underneath Magnus, folding it across Magnus’ chest and clasping Magnus’ shoulder. Magnus clutches Alec’s forearm with both hands. Alec places a tender kiss on the back of Magnus’ neck and a tear rolls down Magnus’ cheek onto his pillow.

They lay together for an hour; Alec trying to press his face into all the skin of Magnus’ he can reach, Magnus trying to match their breathing, their heartbeats. He imagines himself blending into Alec until the thought of letting his feet touch the floor doesn’t exhaust him. He takes a shuddering breath, feeling air hit the bottom of his lungs for the first time all day.

Alec tightens his hold on him, curling tighter around him. “Have you eaten today?” he murmurs against the knob of Magnus’ spine at the base of his neck. Magnus shakes his head.

“Okay. I’m gonna go fix us something, okay?” He pauses, but Magnus doesn’t answer him. “I’ll be back soon,” he promises and starts to draw himself carefully away from Magnus.

“Alexander,” Magnus says and Alec returns immediately to their previous position, pressed close. Magnus bows his head to kiss Alec’s wrist. “Just. Gimme a sec,” he asks, his voice creaking like unoiled hinges.

“Yeah of course.” Alec presses small kisses into the side of Magnus’ neck, each one deliberate and tender and soft.

“All right,” Magnus says finally. He releases his hold on Alec’s arm. Alec draws away slowly, separating them part by part. He kisses Magnus’ temple, lingering there, when he’s drawn away enough to sit up again. He shifts himself carefully off the bed and hesitates a moment before leaving the room, giving Magnus a chance to call him back if he needs to.

He hurries to the kitchen, grabbing a plate from where he finds them in the cabinet by the sink and piling it with everything he can find in Magnus’ fridge that looks light enough to sit well in sadness.

When he returns to the bedroom, he finds Magnus sitting up against the headboard, eyes closed. Magnus doesn’t open his eyes until Alec sits on the edge of the bed in front of him, plate of food balanced on his thigh.

“Thank you, Alexander,” he says, smiling small and weighted.

Alec leans forward and kisses him, working hard to put all the tenderness he feels into it. “You’re welcome,” he replies against Magnus’ lips before leaning back and holding up a strawberry in offering. Magnus sits up straight, crossing his legs beneath him and reaching a hand out to take the fruit, but Alec reaches past that hand to bring the berry to Magnus’ lips.

His smile lighter now, Magnus takes Alec’s wrist to steady them both and bites the strawberry in half, slipping the rest from Alec’s fingers to offer it to Alec in return. Alec almost can’t take the proffered bite past his gentle grin. Juice drips down Magnus’ palm when Alec finally accepts the fruit into his mouth and he turns his hand backward to caress Alec’s cheek with his knuckles. “Buah hatiku,” he murmurs, tender and aching.

Alec turns to kiss those knuckles and then brings another piece of fruit to Magnus’ lips. They feed each other, turn in turn, until they’re sated and sticky.

They’re kissing, lips on lips on cheeks on temples on necks and hands and wrists, on the inside of elbows, when Alec presses a thumb against Magnus’ lips, which Magnus licks, tasting peach and strawberry. Alec laughs lightly, places his whole hand against Magnus cheek to emphasize the point he was making of their disarray, which Magnus had so studiously missed. Magnus’ wrinkles his nose at the stick of Alec’s palm against his face and Alec laughs again.

“We should probably…” Alec takes a moment to consider the depth of their mess, sticky lip tracks up and down each other, assessing the degree of clean up they need, “shower,” he finishes.

Magnus looks suddenly exhausted.

“Together,” Alec clarifies, reaching his other hand to rest against Magnus’ other cheek. “I’ve got you.”

Magnus smiles again, bringing a hand up to lay on top of Alec’s. “I suppose you want to do this now?”

Alec chuckles. “Better now than after we’ve made everything in your house sticky.”

Magnus nods. “There are more fun ways to do that.”

Alec chokes on air and blushes so red that Magnus can nearly feel the warmth of it. He brings his hand to his mouth to hide his smile, but Alec sees it anyway. Grinning, Alec shakes the blush away – or tries to – before leaning forward, slowly, catching Magnus’ eye while he bites his bottom lip, to run his tongue up Magnus’ jaw. Magnus moans as his eyes slide closed, hands coming up to hold Alec’s face, only to find Alec no longer there. He blinks himself aware again to see Alec sitting where he had been once more, grinning cat that ate the canary.

“You give as good as you get,” Magnus breathes. “I’ll give you that.”

Alec’s smile widens and he stands, offering Magnus his hand. Magnus accepts and is pulled into Alec’s arms, Alec’s face resting in Magnus’ hair and its day old gel, which Alec doesn’t seem to mind in the slightest. Magnus completes the hug by wrapping his arms around Alec in return.

“Now our clothes need washed,” Magnus points out, but Alec just shrugs. Magnus smiles the small, secret smile that’s Alec’s alone.

They linger for a moment more before Alec steps back, taking Magnus’ hand and leading him into the bathroom. They undress each other gently, hands wandering over each new section of skin as it’s revealed. They pile their clothes at their feet. Alec steps into the shower to get the water temperature right before pulling Magnus in after him. Magnus trips at the tug on his hand and stumbles into Alec’s chest. They laugh beneath the spray, open and joyous. Alec shakes his drenched hair in Magnus’ direction when Magnus steps from beneath the water to compose himself.

“Incorrigible,” Magnus mutters, the fond tone of his voice turning the scold into an expression of affection. Alec grins, but bows his head in mock apology before extending his hand to draw Magnus in again, which Magnus graciously accepts.

They kiss as the water washes the fruit residue from their skin, every attempt they make at getting soap on each other’s bodies derailed by their inability to part their mouths for any significant length of time. The water runs cold and they give up on making any headway there. For a long time after they shut the water off, they stand, dripping, foreheads together as the air clears. Their hands are clasped; their eyes are closed. Magnus thinks that the rest of his life could be this and only this and it would be more fulfilling than any of the centuries before. Alec’s breath – it’s sound, the feel of it against his face, the heart that beats behind it – is the universe’s most beautiful accomplishment.

After the last rivulets of water have slid down their skin, Alec asks, “Is this day…”

“An anniversary of something?” Magnus finishes for him. He pulls back just enough to see Alec nod. “No.” He draws one of his hands up to Alec’s elbow. “Just a bad day.”

“Depression doesn’t need a reason,” Alec intones.

Magnus smiles at him. It’s sad and hopeful and proud. “Exactly.”

Alec presses a gentle kiss to Magnus’ lips. “Wanna –” he starts, but cuts himself off. “I don’t know what people do for fun that isn’t fighting or practicing fighting.”

Magnus laughs and kisses the hand of Alec’s that he still holds. “How do you feel about musicals?”

Alec considers. “I think I saw one once.”

Magnus laughs again. “Let’s get dressed and I’ll introduce you to my favorites of ‘90s Bollywood. You’ve got a few hours?”

Alec leans in til his mouth hovers above Magnus’, their eyes locked. “I’ve got my whole life. And you can have as much as you want.”

Magnus takes Alec’s face in both hands and kisses him deeper and better than he’s ever kissed any of the 17,000 other mouths his mouth has touched, thinking All of it. I want all of it.

[bisexualmarvelmagnusbane]

speak your bleeding heart (malec)

alec and magnus talk things out after the last episode (2x08). read on ao3.

(there is a read more on this post, fyi if you can’t see it on mobile)

“I’m not leaving you in that institute. Not tonight,” Jace snaps. “So you can keep bitchin’ or – ”

Magnus catches Jace’s eye as he and Alec come bickering through the door to the loft, a hand on Jace’s arm and a nod communicating I’ve got him. Jace considers, looks at Alec hunched and fidgeting, uncomfortable, before nodding back.

“I’m gonna go…pretend I have other friends,” Jace says, backing out the door. “I’ll check in with Izzy!” he calls as he disappears down the hall.

“What? Jace – ” Alec starts, but his parabatai is already gone, though the worry he feels through their bond is no less acute.

He turns to Magnus, but doesn’t look at him. “I don’t need to be babysat,” he gripes. “I’m fine.”

Magnus makes a Riiiiiight face which Alec doesn’t catch as he passes by.

“I have tea,” Magnus announces, heading for the kitchen.

“Your place is still a mess,” Alec notices, surprised, when he looks up to watch him. He eyes Magnus narrowly, concerned. “You don’t have the magic left to deal with it, do you?”

“How quickly you learn my limits,” Magnus observes, turning back to him, fingers interlocked above his stomach.

Alec tilts his head, catching the uneasy tone. “Are you comfortable with that?”

Magnus pauses. “The last person who knew me this well was Camille,” he admits thoughtfully, turning his hands over each other. “I don’t. I’m not. I’ve sort’ve – ” he turns one hand palm up before folding his fingers and bringing it back to his chest, “forgotten what this is like.”

“This?” Alec asks.

Magnus just looks at him, hands open, until Alec nods.

“Maybe – sit,” Alec suggests, gesturing towards the couch. At the note of concern in his voice, Magnus abandons the tea and does.

Alec sits beside him, putting the back of his hand to Magnus’ forehead. Magnus looks up at it and then at Alec’s face, bemused. “What’re you doing?” he asks, though he already knows.

“Oh, I. It’s just.” Alec brings his hand down quickly to his lap. “Habit,” he explains sheepishly. “It’s the first thing I do when anybody I care about doesn’t look so good. I’ve been doing it since Izzy and I were kids. Jace hates it.”

Magnus smiles at him, fond and fit to burst with it. “I don’t have a fever,” he informs him.

“Yeah, you-you wouldn’t,” Alec says, bringing his hands together in an embarrassed clap. “I mean, you wouldn’t, right?”

Laughing, Magnus shakes his head. “Not from just this,” he says. “I have made myself ill from overexertion before, but it takes much more than what happened here tonight.”

Alec nods, as though that was the answer he’d expected. Magnus hides his continued amusement behind a hand.

Alec shifts on the couch, angling himself away from Magnus and gesturing to the mess. “I can help you clean this stuff up,” he offers, moving to do just that.

“No.” Magnus catches his wrist as he stands. “Just. Stay close to me, Alexander. Please.”

Brow furrowed with concern, Alec sits back down, closer than before. “Do you need my strength?” he asks, extending his hand.

“No. Thank you, Alec,” Magnus replies, grasping that hand anyway. “I just need to be able to feel your breath.” He smiles when he sees that Alec catches the throwback. It fades when he speaks again. “I nearly lost you tonight.” He watches every muscle in Alec’s body go taught beneath the skin. Alec angles his face down and away from him and Magnus brings his free hand up to rest on Alec’s neck, his thumb tracing Alec’s jaw.

“Alexander,” he says and Alec’s out from under his hands, halfway across the room in two quick strides.

“I’m-I’m sorry I worried you, but—”

“If you say you’re fine, I—”

“I am fine. It was just the spell.”

Magnus tilts his head at him, obviously unconvinced and disappointed that he’d been expected to be. “Alec. I didn’t pull anybody else off that ledge.”

Alec paces, picking at the skin around the nailbed of both thumbs with his forefingers.

Magnus stands, both hands reaching, his palms open, entreating. “You’re worried that you’re weak. You’re not.”

Alec brings a hand up, palm facing Magnus even as he faces away. “No.”

“I know your strength, Alec.”

“No.” Alec shakes his head – “No” – but Magnus continues: “I’ve felt it.”

“No if I was strong it wouldn’t hurt this—” he cuts himself off, savagely, biting his lip. His pacing halts, but his shoulders still heave.

“Pain isn’t weakness, Alexander. It’s just pain.”

“There’s no reason—”

“Depression doesn’t need a reason.”

“Depression?” Alec sneers, vicious.

Soft and sad, Magnus smiles. “I nearly threw myself off a bridge once,” he notes. “I hadn’t even been spelled.”

Alec’s head snaps up. “Magnus—” he starts, voice heavy with worry and apology.

Magnus waves it off. “I deal with it,” he assures Alec, meeting his gaze. “For centuries, now, off and on.” He steps towards Alec, hands reaching out tentatively to rest on Alec’s arms, looking intently into Alec’s eyes. “I understand, Alec.”

Alec crumples against him, head dropping to Magnus’ shoulder. Magnus brings his arms up around him, back bowing under the weight, but Magnus holds him and Alec holds him in return, pressing his face into Magnus’ neck.

Pushing his nose into Alec’s hair, Magnus runs his hands up and down Alec’s back, feeling the rise and fall of Alec’s breaths and the warmth from Alec’s body, all the little assurances that he’s here and fine and whole. He does this until he’s nearly numb all over, his hands begin to tingle from lack of bloodflow. He brings a hand over Alec’s right shoulder for one last sweep before sitting them down again – but Alec flinches.

Magnus pulls back to find Alec carefully not looking at him. “What’s that?” he asks.

“It’s nothing.”

“Alec,” Magnus pleads.

“Really,” Alec hurries to reassure him. “It’s really – ” he catches himself about to say fine and redirects. “Okay. It’s okay.”

Magnus cups Alec’s face, placing a thumb to his lips to quiet him.

“Your hand,” he reminds Alec, raising his chin towards the one he’d seen rubbed raw not long ago. “Your arm, the time the forsaken attacked. You can’t pretend I don’t know, Alexander.”

Shamed, Alec speaks. “Jace pulled me away from boxing. I didn’t get a chance to cool down.” He shrugs. “Tired muscles, ’s'all.”

Magnus waits, patient and immovable, eyes unflinchingly watching Alec.

“I might’ve.” He tries to draw his face away from Magnus’ hand, but Magnus just follows him, until he closes his eyes and turns his lips into Magnus’ palm, an almost kiss before he speaks again. “I might’ve gone too hard.”

Magnus stands on tiptoe to kiss Alec’s forehead, gentle as can be.

“May I?” he asks when he pulls back, waving his fingers to indicate magic.

“Are you sure?” Alec’s brow furrows, refusal close behind the question on his lips.

“Yes,” Magnus replies without hesitation. “I wouldn’t offer if I didn’t have what I need to do it,” he adds, an honest reassurance.

Alec considers for a moment and then nods. Magnus snaps once and then pushes blue light into Alec’s body, brings red light out. “Oh.” Alec’s knees go weak and he drops. Magnus catches him clumsily, helping him to the couch.

“I haven’t been pain-free in a really long time,” Alec says as he sits, a dumbfounded realization.

“Yeah,” Magnus says, worried and fond, a hand coming again to Alec’s face to smooth his hair back, “I got that impression.”

For several moments, Alec just breathes, eyes closed to revel in this new feeling – he brushes unconsciousness a couple times, the relief is so great. Magnus hovers, one hand on Alec’s neck, the other grasping his upper arm on the opposite side, steadying him.

Alec opens his eyes; they’re clear, but barely. “So depression is what you think this is, huh?”

Magnus huffs out a laugh, dropping his hands to his thighs to steady himself now. “I think you’re gonna be the death of me,” he says as he straightens.

“Sit back,” he urges, pushing ineffectually at Alec’s shoulders. “Back. We need tea,” he declares when Alec acquiesces, heading for the kitchen once again. He sets the kettle with its now-cool water back on the stove. Normally, he’d magick it, but there was more pain in Alec than he’d anticipated. His hand shakes.

“I’m not a therapist,” he reminds Alec. “Freud and I may have been close, but he was much more wrong than right.” He rubs a thumb over his lip, giving himself a moment to say something he knows Alec won’t like. “You should talk to a professional.”

“Ha. Right,” Alec laughs, turning to sit sideways on the couch so he can see Magnus. “Shadowhunters are definitely known for their mental health programs.”

Magnus grins, delighted and surprised by how much lighter Alec is when he’s not in pain. Hearing it, knowing this, tinges his every memory of Alec with sorrow, something he’ll need to come to terms with, he suspects.

“You could see a mundane therapist,” he suggests. “Just,” he raises a hand to cut off the protest he can see coming, “to get a place to start.”

Alec shrugs, slowly, and Magnus can tell that the conversation is done for now. They wait in comfortable silence until the kettle whistles. Magnus reaches for it and cries out – having burned his hand in forgetting the dwindling reserves of his magic.

He curses in his first tongue and moves to shake the pain out, but finds Alec at his side. “Whoa,” he says, startled, swaying back towards the kettle, only to have Alec catch him with one hand and grab his hand to see the burn with the other. The worry on Alec’s face makes Magnus’ chest hurt.

Carefully, Alec guides Magnus towards the sink opposite them, where he turns on a gentle stream of water, testing it for the proper temperature. He brings Magnus’ hand under it, holding it there in a tender grasp, until the worst of the sting has faded away. Magnus stares at Alec the whole time. It isn’t until he’s toweling Magnus’ hand off, gently gently in short careful strokes, and looks up again to assess him that Alec notices.

“What?” he says, small and a little defensive.

Magnus shakes his head slightly, still staring, awed. “I never expect you.”

Alec smiles at him and then leans in to kiss his temple, lips lingering. “Good I hope?” he repeats this old sentiment as a question and pauses, waiting for the answer.

“Good,” Magnus confirms, also smiling and tilting his face to kiss Alec wet and proper. Alec kisses back, brings his hips against Magnus, pushing him into the counter next to the sink. He drops the towel and brings both hands up to Magnus’ face. Magnus follows suit, one hand slipping past the shell of Alec’s ear into his hair, the other slipping under the hem of Alec’s shirt. Neither realize that the kettle is still whistling, not until Alec bumps the sink on again when he moves to cage Magnus, splashing them both. They break apart laughing and dry each other off.

Once calm and dry again, Magnus makes to reach for the kettle once more, but Alec catches his hand, pointing accusingly at the burn still there. “You do need my strength.” He sounds unimpressed.

“What I need is a hot pad,” Magnus retorts. But then he remembers: “I just. Don’t have one.”

Alec raises an eyebrow before lifting his arms to peel his shirt off and use it to move the kettle off the stove, carefully arranging the shirt to be used as a hot pad beneath the kettle, too.

Magnus drops his elbow to the counter so he can put his chin in his hand, watching Alec’s runes ripple under his skin, over his muscles. “Too hot,” he mutters under his breath, helplessly. “Hot damn.”

“Hm?” Alec murmurs, turning back to face Magnus again, but Magnus has already turned toward his myriad of tea options. He’s running his fingers over them, muttering to himself as he debates which to offer Alec. It makes Alec feel incredibly fond of him. He steps up behind him, molding himself to Magnus’ back and hooking his chin over Magnus’ shoulder.

“What about that one?” he asks, pointing at a random one.

“No, no.” Magnus waves him off with a wrinkled nose. “Oh here.” He plucks a jar from the back of the group, labeled in a language Alec doesn’t know. “Ginger,” he explains, “an anti-inflammatory. You’re going to need it – just because you can’t feel it, doesn’t mean it’s not there. Well,” he corrects, turning around to face Alec, “technically it’s not there right now, but it will be later.”

Alec nods along, hardly following and hardly caring. He smiles at Magnus.

“Mon petit chou,” Magnus says, drawing an affectionate hand along Alec’s cheek as he steps by him for the mugs. Alec swings around to follow him, hands on his waist, sidling back up behind him when he stops again to pour. Magnus pours with one hand, grasping Alec’s wadded up shirt, and slips his fingers between the fingers of one of Alec’s hands with the other, his palm over Alec’s hand over his hip.

Once the tea is ready, Magnus slips around in Alec’s hold, handing one cup over with a smile. “I hope you like this better than that IPA,” he says.

Alec laughs, accepts the cup and takes a sip. He tries to quell the expression he can feel forming on his face, but Magnus’ chuckle means he didn’t succeed. “Maybe some honey?” he suggests, face scrunched.

“Behind you,” Magnus directs him, still chuckling and waving one hand over Alec’s shoulder to point. “Middle shelf of that cabinet.”

Alec sets his mug down behind Magnus, dragging his nose along Magnus’ cheek as he pulls back again and makes for the honey.

“There’s sugar in that middle canister, too,” Magnus adds, biting his bottom lip. “Join me on the couch when you’ve got it to your liking, Shadowhunter.”

Magnus drinks his tea quickly, amused as he watches Alec try to make his cup into something he can drink before giving up as discreetly as he can and ridding himself of the mug by placing it in the sink.

By the time he comes over, Magnus is stretched out over the length of the couch, leaving room for Alec nowhere but on top of him. His eyes are closed, but by his quick breathing, he’s clearly not asleep.

Alec considers his frame and Magnus’ for several moments, before Magnus peeks one eye open at him. “You’re not going to crush me, Alexander.”

Cheeks burning, Alec makes a face at him, but does settle himself carefully on Magnus, trying to balance most of his weight on the edge of the couch. He slides one leg between Magnus’, Magnus bringing the leg nearest to the back of the couch up to allow him to get comfortable before gently laying that leg back down over Alec’s. Alec tucks the hand on that side of him between Magnus’ ribs and the couch, laying his body down between those two anchoring points, Magnus patiently waiting. At last, he brings his face to Magnus’ chest, all the tension leaving him at the sound of Magnus’ heartbeat below his ear.

Magnus brings his arms down around Alec, shivering as their bare skin meets. He draws powerless protection sigils on the empty skin around Alec’s runes until they both doze off.

Hours later, Magnus comes back to consciousness, groggy and warm, and finds Alec already awake. The fight not to fidget is playing out in the tensing and relaxing, tensing and relaxing, of Alec’s muscles.

“Ssh,” Magnus soothes, holding him tighter. He presses a kiss into his hair. “I’m here. I’m here.”

It’s several minutes before Alec is calm enough to speak, the shaking in his frame settled for the most part.

“I dreamt of falling. I saw your face – and then I fell. Over and over and –” he chokes, unable to finish. Magnus strokes his cheek.

“You’re safe, you didn’t fall,” he murmurs, bringing his chin down to brush his lips against Alec’s forehead as he speaks. “I’m here. I’m here, Alexander. I’ve got you.”

The last of the tremors have finally worked themselves out when Alec says, “Magnus, the other night – we didn’t –. Do you want me?”

“Want you?” Magnus asks, shocked into utter stillness. “Of course I want you. I want you more than – oh, Alec.” He brings his hands to Alec’s shoulders, pushes him up so he can see his face. Alec holds himself up with a hand on either side of Magnus, struggles to look at him. “Dear heart,” Magnus breathes, agonized.

“When I was,” Alec starts, but his voice fails him. He swallows twice before he can continue, sits back on his haunches to let Magnus slip out from under him until they’re sitting face to face. “When I was on that ledge, the last thing I thought was that-was that you didn’t.”

Magnus reaches for Alec’s face, cradles it in his hands and bringing their foreheads together. “Oh Alec, darling, I’m so sorry.” He pulls back just enough to see Alec’s face. “I thought we were clear on that. I wanted to wait because I want you more than I know what to do with or how to handle. Alec, honey. I am so sorry. I thought you knew.”

Alec goes limp in Magnus’ hold, shoulders curving towards him as his hands steady himself on Magnus’ thighs. He sucks in breaths as though the air is brand new.

“Okay,” he breathes, when he can, “okay.”

Magnus draws Alec’s face up, slowly, tenderly, until he can look into Alec’s eyes, past their shimmering. Holding their eye contact, he moves in unhurriedly, parting his lips so that when they reach Alec’s, Alec’s upper lip slides softly inbetween them. His eyes remain open until he sees Alec’s eyes close.

He kisses Alec like he could drink him, his lips moving tender and heated and desiring against his. He shifts his body against Alec’s, bringing himself closer on his knees, taking Alec’s lower lip now, running his tongue along the curve of its bottom edge as if the taste is all he’s living for. Their hips align. He slips his tongue past Alec’s lips, into his gasping mouth. His hips push against Alec’s hot hands on them. He brings his tongue back to Alec’s lips, feels Alec’s tongue come searching for it, smiles into the kiss, just slightly, doesn’t want to break it. Nips Alec’s searching tongue. Nips, too, at Alec’s lips, first the top, then the bottom, Alec is panting beneath him, his bare chest heaving against Magnus’. Magnus kisses and kisses and kisses him, the same slowness to the movements, deliberate and aching, until he has no more breath of his own.

He pulls back, eyes hooded over panting, swollen mouth. He licks his own bottom lip, draws it into him to suck the taste of Alec off it.

“See?” he pants. His cat eyes glitter at Alec.

Alec – dazed, delirious, dazzled – nods. And pushes him back against the couch.

[bisexualmarvelmagnusbane]

Please please please (pleaseeee) write a oneshot expanding on your 'Alec shows up drunk off his face on vodka and emotional' headcannon! (And feel free to expand on any others because they're amazing, but ESPECIALLY that one??)

i actually have written more about some of them! you can see them come into play in my fics on ao3. (the only that is specifically addressed in its own one shot is the “alec only likes whiskey sours” one.)

the original headcanons post is here, for the curious.

thanks for playing, anon, i wouldn’t have written this without you

there is a much better version of this now (you can still read the original below, if you wish, but i would...really recommend skipping it for the edited version -- it’s not only better, but also longer)

magnus doesn’t answer the door, because alec doesn’t knock. he just opens it, to find alec collapsing beside it in the hallway.

“alexander.” he rushes to alec, one hand going to his chest, the other to his face, wondering just how many loved ones he’s going to have to catch falling in his door. he starts to ask alec if he’s hurt when the smell of vodka overwhelms him. “oh alec,” he murmurs as alec trips over what might be an apology and the threshold, slipping in magnus’ grasp.

“i’m definitely drunk now,” alec informs him, bitter and slurred. his hands slide over magnus like he’s forgotten how to hold on. he knocks his forehead against the side of magnus’ head, a painful display of affection that makes magnus wince.

“alexander,” magnus repeats, more or less pulling alec to the nearest chair. “why are you drunk?”

alec shakes his head, face scrunched as he refuses to answer. magnus sees him regret the motion almost instantly, a hand going clumsily to his mouth as he blurts, “’m gonna–” and uses magnus as a push off point to get to the bathroom. his legs splay beneath him as he stumbles towards it; magnus comes under his shoulder to hold him up.

they drop to the floor of magnus’ bathroom when they get there, alec heaving into the toilet before magnus has even disentangled himself from him. “baby,” magnus soothes, running his fingers through the sweat-curled hair at alec’s nape as he shifts back to give alec the room he needs. “dear heart. my alec.”

alec turns towards him when it’s done and magnus sees the tear tracks on his face. his chest folds in on itself at the sight, making it hard to breathe. 

“s-sorry, ’m sorry,” alec stammers, fisting his hands in magnus’ pants at the knees, begging forgiveness. 

magnus releases alec’s hold with one hand, the other going to alec’s cheek. “you have nothing to be sorry for.”

alec accepts this, as only the very drunk can. he leans back against the wall. magnus magicks up a cool, damp washcloth and wipes the sweat from alec’s face with it.

“i didn’t know drunk was this bad,” he mutters from beneath it. his hands now hold his stomach. “it’s like…when i was 9.”

magnus is sure he doesn’t want to know the answer to this question, but he asks it anyway: “when you were 9?”

alec nods, winces. “food poisoning, training, new rune, all same day. didn’t want to but.” alec shrugs. “threw up on dad’s shoes. he –” he waves a hand weakly. “not happy.”

magnus puts a hand to his mouth. 

“didn’t eat before new runes after that,” alec says, decisively, as though that were the obvious solution to that problem. for a moment they’re silent, alec tired and magnus horror-stricken, and then alec grabs for the toilet again, dragging himself up to rid himself of some more of his stomach’s contents. magnus lays the washcloth gently on the back of his neck.

“what happened tonight, alexander?” he asks again, when this round has passed.

alec shakes his head where it’s resting on his forearms on the seat. “don’t wanna talk about it. it was. really, really bad. jace and izzy, they, i tried to talk to them but.” he shudders. “’s all my fault.”

magnus has the sudden overwhelming urge to murder every single living being that has ever made alec feel responsible for things he’s not responsible for. to do it bloody, from the inside out. he sends a burst of magic out into his living room. it’s loud as it destroys whatever of his possessions that it hits. alec jumps.

“i’m sorry, i’m sorry,” magnus murmurs, placing a calming hand on alec’s back. he takes a moment to calm himself as well, draws the rage out of every limb to let it sit simmering low in his stomach.

alec sits up suddenly, looking intently at magnus, like magnus is beautiful and precious and incomprehensible. he lifts gentle, shaking hands to magnus’ face, fingertips at brow and cheekbone. “you love me?” he asks. then – “shit. care, care about me? i matter to you, like you do to me?”

magnus nods, unable to speak.

“you’re sure?”

magnus swallows the emotions he’s choking on. “of course, dear heart.” he brings their faces together, hands cradling alec’s jaw. they breathe into each other’s mouths. “i’m sure. you matter, you matter to me so much, alec.”

alec nods against magnus’ forehead, his whole body going limp at the reassurance. “that’s good,” he says. 

“yes,” magnus agrees softly. he takes a moment to collect himself, still forehead-to-forehead with alec. “you need to drink some water,” he says finally.

alec meets the idea with open disdain. “i’ll just–” he brings a hand up along his throat, flicking his wrist as it passes his mouth.

“you might,” magnus concedes. “but it’ll be better than throwing up stomach acid.”

alec considers this. “…prob’ly true,” he acquiesces finally. magnus magicks a glass of water for him, carefully making it just below room temperature to soothe without upsetting. alec has to grip it with both hands. magnus pushes his hair out of his eyes while he drinks.

they’re quiet then for a long time as alec nurses the water and magnus thinks that maybe the talking portion of alec’s escapade in drunkenness has passed. but alec looks at him sideways once before saying, “you know,” conspiratorially and magnus knows they’re not. “i broke a kid’s nose once.”

“oh,” magnus says, uncertain. “good for you.”

“i was also a kid,” alec clarifies, “at the time.”

magnus nods. “that does help.”

“we were training. i didn’t…really mean to break his nose; i mean i didn’t mean not to but – it was training. i was finally getting it right.” he lifts a shoulder. “he was the son of a higher-up so i got in big time trouble for it. corporal punishment trouble,” he lifts an eyebrow like what he’s saying isn’t horrifying. “lashes. back before they quit doing that.”

“how old were you?” magnus asks, anguished. his voice is shaking, but alec doesn’t notice.

alec thinks for a moment. “ten,” he says. he leans forward, smiling. “no one even knew it hurt, i couldn’t lay on my back for a week, but no one knew,” he tells magnus. magnus blanches when he realizes that he’s bragging about bearing the pain. “mom was really proud of me, cuz i never said a word the whole time.”

“oh god.” magnus feels bile rise in his throat. someone needs to save maryse lightwood’s children, he thinks, reaching for alec. and maryse from herself. and from me.

he lays a hand on alec’s cheek and alec leans into it, sighing. “i’m tired,” he says, eyes fluttering closed, and falls asleep.

magnus sighs too, lets a couple of the tears he’s been holding back roll down his face, and gently gathers alec’s long frame with magic, guiding his unconscious form to his bed.

[bisexualmarvelmagnusbane]

i’ll be with you (malec)

the first in what will soon be a collection of fluffy malec drabbles. the promo for next week’s episode (2x09) has me all kinds of anxious and i’m feelin’ like we deserve some nice things in the meantime so here i am, doing my best. (there is a read more on this post, fyi if you can’t see it on mobile.) read on ao3. | my other malec fics.

“Good morning!” Alec calls as he enters the loft, uncharacteristically cheerful.

Magnus smiles to hear that joy, feeling brighter himself at the sound of it. “Good morning,” he returns, striding by Alec on his way from the bedroom to the kitchen, pausing to come up on his toes for a quick kiss. Alec grins through it, so Magnus mostly kisses teeth. But he walks away grinning just as hard as Alec, twirling his fingers in barely contained happiness, putting on music and opening the windows and curtains as he goes.

Alec follows him, humming, hands reaching for every passing touch they can get.

“No,” he gestures at his face when they reach the kitchen and Magnus turns back to him, “today?”

Magnus smiles. “I’m tired,” he says, explaining his lack of make-up. “I’d magick it on, but it never looks quite the way I want it to that way.”

“You apply it by hand?” Alec says. “Huh. I always just figured you,” he twists his wrist, fingers splayed, “-ed it.”

Magnus chuckles. “Not typically,” he says, pulling orange juice and champagne from his fridge. “Mimosa?” he offers Alec. He magicks two champagne flutes to the counter, ready to pour. Alec looks at them doubtfully. “C'mon,” Magnus urges, “we’ll find a drink you like yet. And it is your day off.”

“Are we gonna spend all day finding a drink I like?” Alec replies, stepping forward to nose at Magnus’ neck, and Magnus knows he’s won him. He pours two drinks, tossling Alec’s hair with his free hand, and garnishes both drinks with a mint leaf.

He hands one to Alec as he straightens and hooks their elbows, Alec gazing at him affectionately over his glass.

“To us,” he toasts.

“To us,” Alec echoes.

~|~

“Okay,” Magnus says, reaching across their collection of empty and partially empty glasses to wip the foam of a Not Your Father’s Rootbeer float off Alec’s top lip with his thumb. He licks that thumb – Alec staring at him like he’s considering swallowing him whole right here on the terrace – and snaps the fingers of the other hand, calling up a bottle of wine. “This is –” he considers describing the wine’s many promising and expensive qualities to Alec and then reconsiders, “old.”

Alec giggles, then looks surprised at himself. “Am I – is this drunk?” he asks Magnus. “I’ve never been drunk so I don’t know.”

Magnus smiles at him, too overwhelmingly taken with him to speak for a moment. He reaches out to touch Alec’s cheek. “This isn’t drunk,” he explains. “This is tipsy.” He watches Alec parse this information, noting down the feeling of being unwound but still present. “Do you like it?”

“I do.” He says it like it’s unexpected. “Don’t know that I’m gonna like that though.” He nods to the wine still in Magnus’ other hand.

“One way to find out,” Magnus says, and pours the drinks.

~|~

It’s a whiskey sour that finally does the trick. Magnus hands it to him without much hope, thinking the whole exercise has been pointless except for the way Alec is glowing right now, loose-limbed and serene underneath the first rays of moonlight.

Alec takes a sip and then, thoughtfully, another sip and then a proper drink, grinning at Magnus when he swallows.

“This is it!” he announces, elated. “What is it?”

“A whiskey sour,” Magnus informs him. He looks Alec over. “Suits you.”

“I can order my own drink at a bar now.” Alec leans back on his hands, bumping shoulders with Magnus beside him and raising his eyebrows to emphasize his excitement.

Magnus laughs, bumps back. “That you can.”

Alec watches the first stars of the night come out. Magnus watches Alec, finding the view similar, if not better.

When the night has settled in, Alec turns to Magnus. “Thank you,” he says.

Magnus waves a careless hand. “I live to make drinks,” he teases.

“No, really,” Alec insists. “Thank you. This is the best day I’ve had in a really long time.”

“You’re welcome,” Magnus says, awed as Alec swings a leg over him, straddling his thighs.

Alec brings his hands to Magnus’ face and kisses him, eyes open as Magnus goes weak below him and, with his arms around Alec’s chest, lays them both down.

[bisexualmarvelmagnusbane]

nothing’s ever shaken me quite like you (malec)

a might-have-been after the last malec scene in 2x07. begins right before the last kiss as alec is pushing magnus into the bedroom. (there is a read more on this post, fyi if you can’t see it on mobile) read on ao3.

magnus stares at alec as alec walks them into his bedroom, the desire a clawing chasm around him. it reaches out to him from alec’s eyes. it is warm and devastating and the only feeling he wants to have ever again. he can see the great potential it has to ruin him; he can see the great potential it has to make him – and in so doing, ruin him.

this is terrifying, he thinks, wondering if alec can tell that he’s afraid. both this itself and the way i want it. but i want it.

so when alec kisses him again, he throws himself into the chasm, fear and all. he is willing to let the fear cease to matter for this.

they pass through the door, magnus only still on his feet because of alec’s unwavering hold. alec pulls back and magnus follows, eyes closed, lips parted, his weight against alec’s fists. alec’s grip loosens and magnus opens his eyes, swaying until he has his own balance again. grinning, alec pulls his shirt over his head, magnus’ hands falling to the waist of his jeans.

magnus curses under his breath, in the tongue of his mother, when alec is left barechested inches away.

“what?” alec murmurs. his voice is feverish but soft, a gentle hum. magnus could swear he’s gone incorporeal.

“nothing,” magnus trills, running one longing hand lightly up alec’s side, feeling faint. “i just need to. sit down? lie down? lie down.“

alec smiles and magnus feels the chasm of desire swallow him further. “we can make that happen,” he promises and starts pushing magnus towards the bed again, kissing him breathless until they tumble down onto the mattress, tangled and wild. magnus brings his hands to alec’s face and he wants to smile at him more than anything but he can’t, he can’t, the emotion is too big. alec doesn’t seem to mind, pressing in again for more kisses, each sloppier than the last, his hands pressing into the sides of magnus’ chest, burning even through the fabric of his shirt, which is hitching up and allowing the skin of their stomachs to meet in a tender too much that is searing all memory of anything else from magnus’ consciousness.

alec’s hands begin to rove beneath magnus’ shirt and his mouth trips along magnus’ jawline and magnus has not cried while making love in at least five centuries, but he thinks he might tonight at the eager sincerity of alec’s fumbling touches and inelegant kisses.

with a parting lick at the tendon standing out along magnus’ neck, alec pulls back to straddle magnus’ hips and magnus, unable to help himself, reaches a hand after him, but it trembles and alec sees. he takes that hand in his gently, entwining their fingers to steady magnus, and looks magnus over, panting, brow furrowed with concern, knees still on either side of magnus’ hips. it’s too much for magnus to take. he hitches a breath and closes his eyes, his jaw clenching on the low sound of a swallowed moan. alec’s other hand comes softly to his cheek and he nearly chokes.

“you’re shaking,” alec says and it’s then that magnus realizes it wasn’t only his hand that was trembling: the whole of him quakes beneath alec.

“you’re overwhelming me,” he explains helplessly, waving his free hand between them, dragging his eyes open in time to see alec’s face shutter.

“no i don’t mean—” magnus starts, desperate, when alec pulls away, one long leg coming over magnus and taking all alec’s warmth with. “it’s not a bad thing. hey—”

but alec is some unreachable somewhere, getting off the bed despite magnus’ clumsy reaches.

“alexander,” magnus pleads, coming to his knees on the bed. “alec. alec. angel have mercy,” he swears, thinking a shadowhunter’s curse might reach him, “don’t leave.” his voice cracks like old concrete. “please don’t leave.”

alec blinks back from the unreachable somewhere, angling his gaze back towards magnus and catching the anguish on magnus’ face.

“magnus, magnus, shit,” he says, swooping to his knees on the bed right in front of magnus so they’re thigh-to-thigh, chest-to-chest, and, taking magnus’ face again in his hands, forehead-to-forehead. “i’m sorry, i’m not leaving.” he raises his jaw to kiss magnus’ forehead and magnus would collapse except for alec’s hold on him. “i just thought,” he draws back to wave his hands between them, “space. so you wouldn’t be overwhelmed. i thought maybe also a-a shirt. but i can’t find it.”

magnus has another moment where collapsing seems the thing to do, but remains upright by force of will. “oh,” he says. and then lets out a breathless, lilting laugh, which makes alec smile, relieved. magnus presses a closed-lip kiss to the corner of alec’s open mouth, lingering there with his hands bracing himself on alec’s chest until alec’s hands come back around his face.

“you’re so much; this is so much,” magnus breathes against alec’s lips. “i don’t think you realize.”

“hey, i’m sorry,” alec soothes, bringing his arms around magnus and drawing his head up to rest his chin on the top of magnus’ head. alec’s quiet and still, rubbing circles on magnus’ back until his breathing calms for the first time since alec arrived. their hearts beat against each other, gentle thumps neither of them should be able to feel.

once assured that magnus is fine again, alec sits back on his haunches, the old shyness taking up residence on the slant of his shoulders. magnus sits also, crossing his legs beneath him. they’re no longer touching and it feels terrible, like starving.

“i don’t,” alec pauses, looking uncertain, so magnus takes his hand, feels a great relief on both their parts at doing so. “always.” he swallows. “think of us as…two people in a new relationship.”

“no,” magnus responds, chuckling fondly, his thumb rubbing the back of alec’s hand, his breath hitching again, just slightly. “you don’t.”

alec raises his face to him again. “i’m sorry, magnus, i just – i-i keep thinking that your experience means that this isn’t for you like it is for me. and i know that’s stupid, i know you’ve told me that isn’t how it is, but magnus, i feel so…brand new all the time.”

“you are a little brand new,” magnus teases. alec makes a face at him and magnus reaches his other hand up to smooth it away. “you just need to remember that i’m brand new when it comes to this, too. you are a first for me as well, just in different ways. i have been in love before, alexander, but one love is not the same as another.”

alec goes still. “love?”

“oh,” magnus says, going stone cold, “shit.”

alec – god and angels and demons and everything inbetween bless him – laughs. it is the sweetest sound out of any in magnus’ many centuries.

“it’s okay,” alec says, light and sincere. he tightens the grip of his hand on magnus’. “i won’t hold you to anything.”

you could, magnus thinks hopelessly, before he can stop himself.

“i want to make love with you,” he says, after he’s taken another moment to recover, hands fidgeting over alec’s. “i want to be sure you know that, alec. i want it to a degree that i have rarely – if ever – experienced. it is a bit…too much for me right now. i’m going to need some time with that. are you,” he swallows once. “are you all right with that?”

“yes,” alec answers without hesitation, smiling. he leans in for a gentle, lingering kiss. “yes, i’m all right with that.”

[bisexualmarvelmagnusbane]

Sanctuary

a “what might have happened if the malec scene from 2x05 had been a little longer” also known as “i need more malec touching in my life.” takes place directly after that scene ended, after magnus says “you’ll blow up the very ground you stand on to make something right.” malec hurt/comfort, fluff with a little angst for flavor. (there is a read more on this post, fyi if you can’t see it on mobile.) read on ao3

Alec stands, and in a step and a half has crossed the terrace to stand before Magnus, the faintest hint of shyness in the tilt of his shoulders and in the fidget of his hands at his sides before he leans in and kisses him. Surprised, as always with Alec, Magnus goes supple against the brick at his back, fond beneath Alec’s clumsy attentions and the inexperienced slip of his tongue between Magnus’ lips. Magnus nips the tip of Alec’s tongue, light and teasing, and startled, Alec pulls back, brow furrowed as Magnus grins up at him.

Catching on to the teasing, Alec raises an eyebrow, an Oh that’s how it is gesture, and steps back, biting his lip and raising his jaw and watching Magnus’ lips part as the warlock rocks forward after him. Alec grins, the only full mouth smile Magnus has ever seen from him – captivating, iridescent, worth weeping over – and continues backwards into the loft, carefully navigating around the furniture. Breathing stuttered, Magnus follows him, watching Alec clench and flex his hands several times before pulling his shirt quickly over his head as he passes through to Magnus’ bedroom. Magnus trips, his feet as clumsy as the beating of his heart.

“Zero to sixty,” he grumbles affectionately. “Have you no middle ground, Alexander?” Too busy blushing and avoiding his gaze, Alec doesn’t hear him.

When Alec reaches the bed, he sits, placing his hands behind him and reclining against them, his face turned up and away, his chest heaving, his neck glistening with nervous sweat that Magnus can picture himself licking off so clearly that it startles him when he blinks and finds it hasn’t happened. He raises his eyes to the ceiling and counts to ten, then twenty, then thirty, until he hears Alec start to fidget.

Magnus sits softly on the bed beside him, places a gentle hand on the back of Alec’s neck and, speaking his name, draws him upright.

“Your seduction technique is – mmm,” Magnus closes his eyes and tips his head to the side, desire thrumming through him, “impeccable.”

He returns his gaze to Alec. “But I think we ought not do this tonight.”

“O-oh,” Alec stutters, slipping out of Magnus’ grasp, his blush renewed. “I-I. I mean. I’m. W-we –”

With a fond smile, Magnus cuts him off. “I’d be happy to kiss you all night long – thrilled actually – and if that’s what you opt for, I will. But that’s my limit.” Magnus searches Alec’s face, runs his eyes over the curve of his shoulders, normally so straight and even, catches the raw skin on his hand again. “I think you may have already reached yours.”

After a moment, Alec nods, a self-conscious thing, and Magnus smiles tenderly before reaching a hand up to cup his face and bring him down for a kiss, the taste of it as sweet as a sanctuary spell on his lips.

They part and while Alec is still blinking back to awareness, Magnus pulls himself up to the head of the bed to rest against the pillows there. With a flourish, he magicks away his necklaces and the buttons of his shirt, so that Alec can lay comfortably. He opens his arms to him, an invitation; his voice soft, sweet: “Come here, Alexander.”

Alec pulls himself up beside him slowly, hesitating once he reaches his side. Magnus waves him onward, with gentle encouragement. “It’s okay, Alec. Go ahead.”

Then, all but collapsing, Alec lays down, his head just below Magnus’ sternum and one arm brought up to lay across his hips. He exhales so deeply that Magnus realizes he’d been holding his breath.

Magnus draws his arms around him, tracing protection sigils on his bare back absentmindedly with one hand and slipping the fingers of the other into Alec’s hair. Alec is asleep in moments.

~|~

They wake up on their sides, Magnus curled around Alec’s back, one arm thrown over his stomach. He brings Alec to wakefulness by drawing the infinity symbol up and down his stomach and chest. Alec tenses and blushes all the way down to the tops of his shoulders, across the width of his back, when he realizes where he’s woken up and how close they are. Magnus presses a tender kiss into the warm skin at the base of his neck. Alec goes soft again beneath the touch and lays his forearm over the one Magnus is holding him close with, linking their fingers.

“Thank you,” he murmurs into the skin of Magnus’ other arm, the one between his cheek and the bedspread.

Magnus smiles into Alec’s back. “Of course, dear heart, of course.”

[bisexualmarvelmagnusbane]

“magnus?” alec’s voice trembles over the phone. “would you – come lay with me? i need to. hold you. for a while. if that’s okay.”

“of course, alexander,” magnus replies, lips brushing alec’s cheek, opposite of the one his phone is pressed against.

alec starts, flipping over on his back in time to catch the fading light of the portal magnus had stepped through.

“you can’t – portal into the institute!” he exclaims in a bewildered whisper.

“i might have made myself a back door,” magnus confesses, standing and waving one ringed hand. “but don’t worry, it’s unique to me. nobody else can use it. i couldn’t even bring anyone with me, even if i wanted to.” he pauses for a moment. “i also may have…only given myself access to your room.”

“oh,” alec says and he smiles, appreciative. magnus takes the opportunity to look his boyfriend over, finding him barechested and tense, but without injury, to magnus’ great relief.

“bad shadowhunter day?” he asks, crawling onto the bed beside alec.

alec nods, jaw clenched. he opens his arms to magnus.

“i’m sorry,” magnus murmurs. he kisses alec, warm and gentle, positioning himself atop alec’s chest, hitching one leg up over alec’s when they pull apart, before settling his cheek against the hollow created below alec’s shoulder.

alec goes limp beneath him and brings up one arm to curve against magnus’ back. he entwines the fingers of the other hand with the fingers of the hand magnus had rested on that wrist. tenderly, he presses his cheek to magnus’ forehead, turns to place a kiss there.

“thank you,” he sighs.

“always,” magnus promises.

magnus magicks the door with a spell to discourage intruders and they lay together for hours, until alec can do so without shuddering every few minutes. they fall asleep and wake up hungry, devour each other first, before magnus introduces alec to mangoes in india, the sweet juice dripping down their fingers and chins. their laughter is just as sweet.

on ao3