#the two glasses of champagne i've been drinking while writing this told me to post it

[saebyeog-i]

what it feels like | pcy

“If this was a brave new world you’d entered with that thinly veiled declaration of love, you wanted no part of it.”

genre | you can send me your dental bill for this tooth rotting mushy fluff / internalized angst if you squint / this might be soft enough to not be considered solid matter / this sat on a shelf next to a soulmates au for five minutes

word count | ~1.8k (this! was! supposed! to! be! a! drabble!)

pairing | PCY x reader (this is actually relatively gender neutral without meaning to be?)

—

Someone once told you there were many different kinds of love, and many different important firsts beyond just a kiss or a date or sex. You’d kissed and fucked and wined and dined others in the past for plenty of different reasons that didn’t really matter, despite the notion that experiencing any of those firsts with someone who was not your one-and-only was often taboo in your world. Yet, you believed the words you’d once been told by a stranger you no longer remembered, and you held strongly to those ideals, because they grounded you— you found comfort in them, and they acted as a guiding light when you were otherwise wandering lost in the clouded haze of your own life.

The first time you realized that Park Chanyeol was the love of your life felt like a scene from a coming-of-age rom com more than it did a moment in your own life. It came after all those other firsts in your life had been experienced with different people over the last ten years, and it came on one of the otherwise most unimportant nights of your life.

In the months since you’d known him, you’d come to appreciate the different looks you’d witness in Chanyeol’s eyes. When he was deep in thought, focused on something, making a new piece of music or writing a new lyric or verse. When he was bursting with excitement, an extrovert on main, relishing the spotlight and attention from those he surrounded himself with. When he was quiet and calm, his eyes not giving away the thoughts firing through his mind (though those moments were fewer and further between than others— he’s a busy man, you know). He had what you’d come to call ‘galaxy eyes’— you could see the whole universe wherever he looked.

What had compelled you to stay with him well past a reasonable hour, into the middle of the night? To accept the invitation to close the ride share app you’d opened to take you home and instead settle into one of the stools lined up along the bar he’d built in the studio? To willingly take the glass of overpriced special edition Macallan scotch (a bottle you’d only ever seen in person before when locked in a glass case behind an unachievable monetary value for a single bottle of liquor) that he slid across the bar top towards you with a smile plastered on his face? To lift that glass up with a delicate grasp, knocking your knuckles against his and murmuring a ‘cheers’ as you both drank to everything at once and nothing at all?

What had compelled you to snort with laughter with him and exchange humorous stories of your awkward teenage years, to talk about your first crushes and the embarrassing things you’d done in your youth that you could both cringe and laugh at now that years had passed? To follow him when, at the end of the bottle, he’d said he had something important to show you? To wait patiently as he fumbled with the ring of keys to the building he spent most of his free time in— admittedly he spent more time here than in his own home— as he unlocked the door that lead up beyond the top floor? To take his hand as his long legs raced up the stairs to bring you somewhere he insisted he’d never shared with anyone other than Baekhyun or Sehun or MQ? To look out over the safety rails in wonder at the Seoul city skyline at well after three in the morning?

If you had to really narrow it down, it was the comfort he provided.

It was an accident, all of it, really— an accident that you even met, an accident that he broke your expensive prescription glasses and spilled your morning coffee, and an accident that he felt embarrassed and asked for a method to contact you so he could replace them. It was an accident that you even stayed in contact beyond the day you’d gone to his studio building to pick up the replacement pair he’d ordered, so that he could apologize again, profusely, in person.

You’d come to Seoul to get away. To run far away, to start over, to reset, because anything and everything you’d been looking for before was no where to be found in where you were.

And now you were here. And ‘here’ felt more like home than anywhere else in the years of your adult life so far.

It’d been six months since you met, and he’d slowly let you into more and more of his life as that time had passed. There was hesitation on both sides at first— he was still an idol, someone living a very public life, despite having been more senior in his career. You were still decidedly not famous, and had a constant nagging feeling about what was worth giving up of your own privacy in order to cultivate the new found friendship. Ultimately, the same reason you accepted each and every proposition he offered up that night was the same reason you’d stuck around this long: the comfort.

“You’re not cold, are you? If you’re cold, I’ll get you a coat—” He’d asked suddenly, after a prolonged silence shared between you on the rooftop. You shook your head softly, closing your eyes gently for a moment as the heat rushed to your cheeks. Was it from the cold, the alcohol you’d been consuming, or a response to his considerate question that got you? You weren’t really sure that it mattered. Maybe it was none of them, maybe it was all.

“How often do you come here?” You asked, diverting the subject.

He hummed thoughtfully, non-verbally agreeing to give you a pass on his first question despite the shiver he swore he saw run down your spine just now. His eyes never stayed on one point in the skyline for long. Like he was restless, impatient, searching for something. “Whenever I need to remember that I can still be small. Even after all these years, with all the people that know who I am… I can come up here and still feel small.”

His honesty spread a smile across your face, and you couldn’t help the laughter that erupted from deep within you.

“What? What’s so funny?” He pestered.

After the small eternity in relative stillness and silence you’d shared since ascending to the rooftop, you turned your head and looked straight into his galaxy eyes to respond. “Park Chanyeol, you’re might just be the biggest, grandest presence of a person I’ve ever had the fortune of meeting and knowing. But you’re also the softest and most sincere. If you want to be small, I promise I’ll forever see you as how you want to be seen. I promise to do my very best to see you as that and only that.”

Where did the proclamation even come from? Deep within your heart and psyche, that’s for sure, unearthed by the liquor and again the comfort, that pesky comfort you felt when you were with him; and you knew without the liquor and the comfort that proclamation would have otherwise remained buried. As you processed what you’d just said to him, your heart thrummed in your chest, and an awareness settled over you.

‘Oh,’ you thought, ‘This must be what that feels like. What it feels like.’

You knew you’d said the wrong thing as the moments between your words and his lack of a response ticked by, as the silence between you grew from a pause to a hesitation to a complete and utter blank stare looking back at you. Those galaxy eyes, the ones you’d grown to treasure, rendered completely unreadable by something you’d said. If this was a brave new world you’d entered with that thinly veiled declaration of love, you wanted no part of it.  

You had to back pedal, to rewind the last two minutes and take it back, you couldn’t have him catch on—

“Shit,” he muttered out finally, running his hand through his slightly grown-out bleached hair.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean—”

“You feel it too?” His words cut you off, and it took a moment to register what he’d just implied.

What was that feeling? ‘That’ ‘it’ you were just so sure you’d felt? Surely it wasn’t the foundation of everything you thought you knew shifting, of your heart gravitating towards that of another, of a sudden realization that the center of your world wasn’t the sun or a star or a physical place, but the space between you and another person?

“What… what do you feel? When you’re with me?” You asked softly, unable to look away from him despite the furious flush you wished you could hide.

And there it was again, erasing any fear or previous hesitation, reinforcing everything you’d felt that you’d been so sure you’d fabricated in your mind. That kilowatt smile, the sparkle in his eyes, looking like he held the whole world in his gaze when his eyes were on no one else but you. “I feel like I see my whole future by my side, and that I want nothing more than for them to feel the same.”  

Would it be so bad? To take his hand?

“I—” you breathed out, words caught in your throat before they could even make their way to your tongue.

“You keep your promises, no? Didn’t you just promise me to see me how I want to be seen?”

He had a point. If you’d taught him anything about yourself these past few months, it’d be that you kept your word when you gave it. You sucked a breath in and bit down on the flesh of your mouth, chewing at the inside of your lip for a moment. How could you weigh every pro and con of allowing yourself to love the man beside you with your whole heart? How could you make such a choice in so brief a passage of time, to give in to everything your psyche had been all but screaming at you for at least the last month, if you really thought about it?

Anxiety made your heart race faster and faster as he waited for your response. Your eyes flicked down to see his hands gripping the guardrail in front of him, knuckles turning white as he steadied himself. And in that moment, you came to realize a different truth of not just the love of your life, but humanity in general: celebrity status aside, everyone deserved to love and be loved in return. You could only wish that everyone important to you could feel the way you felt when you looked in Chanyeol’s eyes.

Really, would it be that bad?

‘No,’ you finally thought, unable to stop the smile from spreading as you rose on the tips of your toes to meet your lips with those of the man who wanted to be reminded that even with the life he’d led so far and the path he’d chosen that he could still be small, ‘It wouldn’t be bad at all.’

—

author’s note | stream 1 Billion Views, steam Yours, be emo about them both because I sure as hell was while writing this.

[mimisempai]

Wait for me on the other side 7/8

Summary:

Will we attend the long awaited meeting?

Notes:

Final stretch before the end... How are you doing?

https://archiveofourown.org/works/32948254/chapters/82448716

Loki's apartment - 2021

I WANT TO MEET YOU!

FOR REAL THIS TIME!

Loki turned the drawing over, Mobius had added a few words to it.

Answer me after 6pm, I'll wait by the mailbox.

Loki looked at the clock, it was 5:15 p.m., he took his notepad and his pencil and left in a hurry towards the house on the cliff.

Arriving a few minutes after 6pm, he went to the mailbox, scribbled quickly on his notebook, tore out the page and after putting it in the box, he raised the flag.

It was lowered almost immediately, the start of another conversation punctuated by its movement.

Mobius House - 2019

Mobius was pacing around the box, avoiding looking at his watch every minute, wondering if he had frightened Loki with his request for a date, when the flag suddenly rose.

L -How?

M -Pick a place. I will be there. I promise. Tomorrow, what do you say?

L -Mobius. It's not tomorrow for you. You'll have to wait two years.

M -I don't care. I'll wait. Meet me at the restaurant tomorrow and I'll be there. I'll be two years older, but I'll be there.

L -What will you be doing all that time?

M -Think about you. And working out every day, getting in shape, praying I don't lose my hair...

L -Are you sure?

M -I've never been so sure of anything in my life. I've already lost so much time. I don't want to waste any more with you.

Loki suddenly felt almost dizzy. Mobius had two years to prepare for this appointment while Loki had less than twenty-four hours. He took a deep breath before closing the mailbox.

L - See you in two years, then.

M - See you tomorrow night. Where would you like to go?

Frigga  restaurant - 2019

Mobius entered the restaurant and was greeted by the hostess.

"Hi, I'd like to reserve a table for two."

She flipped through the reservation book before telling him in an apologetic tone, "Well, I'm sorry, but we just received our fourth star and I'm afraid it's extremely difficult to get a reservation at this hour. When did you expect to dine here?"

Mobius replied with a smile, "Two years from tomorrow. September 15, 2021."

The hostess blinked a few times and then closed the book, before answering with a big smile, "We should be able to accommodate you, sir."

Loki's apartment - September 15, 2021 - Morning

Loki prepared to leave for work. He looked at the outfit he prepared for that evening. He couldn't remember when he hadn't felt such excitement. He couldn't remember ever feeling this excited.

September High School - September 15, 2021 - 5pm

As he packed up his things after having finished his last class of the day, and was already looking forward to the evening ahead, he was jolted out of his reverie by Thor's stormy arrival in his office.

"Thank God you're still here."

"Obviously." replied Loki, pointing out with irony.

"I'm sorry, I know it's not your week, but can you do a detention watch for an hour? Jane is visiting between flights and I was supposed to monitor tonight's detention, but-"

Loki looked at his watch and sighed, "Yes, I can, but one hour not more. I have a date."

"Thank you, thank you! I promise, it's just an hour, no more. But I want to hear all about this date tomorrow, okay?"

Loki shook his head and chuckled, "Alright, alright, go meet Jane!"

Before leaving, Thor threw over his shoulder, "I don't know who that is, but I've never seen you smile like that before, Loki, and it suits you! Bye!"

He was gone before Loki had time to answer.

An hour later, Loki was walking quickly towards his apartment. He entered in a hurry, ran into the room and threw off his clothes.

Croki followed him around, curious, as Loki muttered, "He waited two years. What's another half hour? Right?"

He continued his preparations, but at a calmer pace. He put on a dark green v-neck sweater, of a shade that he knew brought out his eyes, at least that's what the saleswoman had told him, a pair of charcoal-colored pants that highlighted his silhouette. He looked at himself two or three times in the mirror before shrugging his shoulders.

A few minutes later, he left his building and took a cab to the restaurant.

Frigga Restaurant - September 2021

Loki stopped before entering. He inhaled several times to calm himself. He was ready, excited but confident. He opened the door with a firm hand.

While removing his coat, he scanned the room. There are not many tables. Before he could find Mobius, the hostess approached him.

"Good evening sir, can I help you?"

Loki cleared his throat, "Yes, I have a reservation. Laufeyson. Or Mobius, I'm not sure what name it was made under."

The hostess examined her book and looked up with a huge smile, "Oh yes! You're the..." she paused before pulling herself together, "Follow me."

Loki was led to a table for two. It was empty. He was a little surprised.

The hostess turned to him and said, a little embarrassed, "I hope you'll forgive me, but I can't help asking..."

"Yes?"

"This reservation is sort of... legendary. It's been here longer than most employees. There's always been intense speculation about who made it, and why, and whether you were really going to show up. Some of the team members even made bets..."

Loki looked around. Throughout the room, waiters were glaring at him. The chefs and kitchen helpers were looking out the kitchen door. Loki suddenly felt very embarrassed.

The hostess immediately apologized, "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have... I'll send the waiter to get your drink order right away."

A little later a waiter returned and poured Loki a glass of champagne.

"Compliments of the chef."

Loki nodded in thanks.

Just before leaving, the waiter threw him a small smile, "Good luck."

Loki began to sip the champagne, a little more nervous.

Some time later, his glass was empty and he was still waiting, alone at the table. The waiter approached to refill his glass, but Loki stopped him.

He was aware that the restaurant staff was watching him, whispering among themselves. Two hours passed, other customers lingered over dessert, coffee, chatting intimately at the candlelit tables.

Loki was still alone.

After a long moment, he pushed back his chair and stood up. Everyone was looking at him, gravely.

He walked to the front, expressionless, and took his coat, without speaking to anyone before leaving under the sad look of the hostess watching him leave. Loki returned home, alone. His stoic facade began to crumble. He had tears in his eyes.

He took a paper and wanted to write but didn't have the heart. Not now.

House on the cliff - September 16, 2019

The day was gray and windy, Mobius stood in front of his mailbox and read the words "YOU WEREN'T THERE." He shook his head, lost.

M - I'm really sorry. I don't understand. Something must have happened. Look, I have two years. I'll try to fix it.

L -No, Mobius... You don't understand. It's too late. It's already happened.

I'm not upset. I mean, I was at first.

But now I just feel stupid... that I forgot how much a person's life can change in two years.

And for expecting yours not to change.

For expecting you to wait, to stand still, to put your life on hold, for me.

M - But I can do it. I can wait for you. I know I can. I won't forget.

L -Maybe you did. Maybe, wherever you are, you are busy, happy, and living so fully in the present that the dinner you planned two years ago just... slipped your mind. Just like you forget about impossible fantasies when they're over, when you get on with real life.

M - You mean I should go on with my real life?

L- I mean... I think we both should.

After seeing his words, Mobius hurried to answer, his hand trembling with emotion.

Please write to me, answer me.

Mobius put his letter in the mailbox and raised the flag. It stayed up.

An hour later, the flag was still up, Mobius opened the mailbox, there was only the note he had put in.

Hours, then days, then months passed, as Mobius wrote and posted letter after letter. Finally, there was a stack of his letters in the box. They continued to pile up, unanswered. Until the box was so full that Mobius could not put any more letters in.

Bi-Frost Bar - Février 2022

It was winter, everything outside was covered in snow.

Loki was sitting at a table with Bruce, Thor, Heimdall and Carol.

They were now meeting here at least once a week after work.

As Bruce and Carol debated some obscure point of astronomy, mediated by Heimdall, Thor leaned toward Loki and put his hand on his arm.

"Are you okay?"

Loki gave a half-smile and answered honestly because Thor was one of the few people who could read him, "I've been better."

"Are you still writing to your mysterious pen pal."

Loki, his throat tight, could not answer and shook his head.

Thor simply said, without insisting, "I'm sorry, Loki, if you need to talk, you know my phone number."

Loki did not answer.

Later, as he returned home, he found a message on his answering machine.

"Hi, Lo. It's Sigyn. I'm in town. I had to come in for a meeting."

Loki started to press the button to delete the message, when Sigyn's voice continued, "A real one this time. I swear to you. Call me. Only if you feel like it."

The next evening Loki and Sigyn were sitting in the pizzeria where they had met before. Neither of them really felt comfortable.

Sigyn said quietly, "I didn't think you'd come out."

Loki replied wryly, "Don't take this personally but..."

Sigyn interrupted him, "You couldn't say no to the free meal."

"Exactly." they both laughed.

Then Loki asked, "So. How did your ' meeting ' go?"

Sigyn looked slightly offended at the way Loki had emphasized the word meeting.

"I told you I didn't make it up, it really happened. They offered me a job.A bigger firm. I'm going to be in-house counsel." She smiled proudly before continuing, "Call them if you don't believe me."

A little later, they arrived in front of Loki's residence which was on the way to Sigyn's hotel. They stopped at the door.

Sigyn said quietly, "I took this job because I wanted to. This is not an ambush, Lo."

Loki nodded and replied softly, "Well, that's great news.  Congratulations, Sigyn. I'm really happy for you."

Sigyn smiled, "Thank you, and thank you for coming."

Loki leaned over and kissed her goodnight, briefly. Sigyn looked surprised and pleased.

Loki watched her, it was comfortable and familiar, but then his gaze slipped to the tree behind Sigyn. Its leaves swayed in the night air. It was the tree Mobius had planted. Loki looked at it, then closed his eyes and shook his head. "No, I'm sorry Sigyn, but I can't."

After a tearful goodbye, as he walked back up to his apartment, Loki muttered to himself, "I may not be able to meet him, but I can't lie to myself either."

Mobius House - 2020

The mailbox was covered with snow. It was so cold that the lake had frozen over. Mobius, who was walking outside, looked inside the mailbox, by reflex. It was empty. He closed it slowly, disappointment on his face.

Distracted, he didn't notice that Croki was walking away quickly, towards the forest.

Mobius finally looked around.

Croki started to run. Mobius chased him. But soon, in the density of the forest, he did not see him anymore. Mobius ran straight ahead, continuing to call. He tripped on a stump and fell into the snow, he got up and called again, looking around, upset. Croki was really gone.

Mobius was about to run again, when he suddenly stopped. A realization dawned on his face.

Croki was going to find his new owner.

Mobius knew what he had to do.

A few days later, he was talking in the living room with Casey.

"Are you sure you want to do this?"

Mobius replied with a wistful look on his face, "Yes, I need to move on, staying here, I won't make it."

Casey nodded, understanding and added simply, "If you need help, you can count on me."

A few weeks later, "Mobius packed the house methodically and with determination. He assembled boxes with tape and threw his things in. He put the trash in bags, swept and mopped.

As he was tidying up, he found the stack of letters from Loki. He looked at them for a moment, then packed them up and shoved them in the bottom of a cardboard box before carrying the box to the attic and sealing it.

Hill & Fury Law Firm - 2020

Mobius checked the address on his phone, walked in, and headed to the front desk.

"Hello, I'd like to speak to Sigyn Iwaldi, I don't have an appointment, but tell her it's Mobius and it's urgent."

A few minutes later, Sigyn arrived in the lobby, and motioned for him to follow her into an adjoining meeting room.  She barely greeted him and did not look happy to see him.

Mobius didn't wait and asked her point-blank, "Do you still want to rent a house by the lake?"

He didn't wait for an answer and tossed her a bunch of keys. Sigyn looked puzzled.

Mobius continued, "That's what Loki wants."

Sigyn looked angry and asked him abruptly, "How can you know that? How can you know what he wants? Besides, we're not even..."

Mobius shook his head, "I don't want to know anything, but trust me this is what he wants."

Mobius waited no longer and stomped out of the room, slamming the door behind him.

Later, as Sigyn was opening her car, something caught her eye in the distance. An alligator was slowly strolling down the street, looking lost but heading straight for her. It was Croki.

Chapter 1 - Chapter 2 - Chapter 3 - Chapter 4 - Chapter 5 - Chapter 6 - Chapter 7 - Chapter 8 (End)

__________

I've said in the last chapter, as a reader I hate cliffhangers. So for you, I've put the turbo on and I'm just saying, stay tuned... you won't have to wait until tomorrow for the last chapter... maybe with only one comment on this chapter, I'll be convinced to publish it even sooner... 😏

[bytheangell]

Hey Elle what's up! I've been thinking a lot about Magnus and alcoholism lately and I'm dying for a fic about him working to give that up and Alec helping him through it. Maybe like a post canon AU where Magnus has his magic back and him and Alec are together now? No rush I know you have a lot but I think this is right up your alley and I can't really write it myself right now

catalyst to your own happiness(read on AO3)tw: alcohol, alcohol abuse

It’s no surprise when it comes time for a toast at the wedding that the two grooms are front and center with a champagne fluke full of bubbling liquid, clinking their glasses with impossibly large smiles before taking the first drink. Alec finishes his first and gets an immediate refill, while Magnus nurses his a little longer with smaller sips, drawing it out.

What is a surprise is that when his glass is finally empty he denies his mother-in-law’s offer to top off his drink while she goes to grab another for herself.

“Something else?” Maryse asks instead, motioning toward the expansive bar selection readily available.

Magnus only shakes his head, much to Maryse and Alec’s surprise. “No,” he starts, considering his words carefully. He doesn’t want this to be a big deal… but it is. He knows it, and he’s certain they will, too. He turns slightly to address Maryse. “I meant what I said to you back at your shop that night. Magic or not, I think it’s time I take a little more responsibility for my more… excessive indulgences.”

Maryse, if she’s surprised by this, has the good grace to hide it behind a carefully controlled expression that smiles softly and nods. “Well then, I’m even more proud of you now than I was then. Might I suggest,” she adds quietly. “A little magic to keep that full of sparkling cider? Just to deter a night of unwanted temptations?”

Magnus laughs. “The beauty and the brains of the family, I see. Now I know where Alec gets it from.” He does just that, the glass in his hand no longer empty but full of something that looks exactly like the champagne it once held - except Maryse and Alec know differently.

Maryse catches the gaze of someone across the room and gives a little wave before excusing herself from the newlyweds, leaving Alec alone with Magnus once more. Unlike his mother, Alec can’t help the look of confusion and barely masked disbelief from his expressive eyes, glancing at Magnus’ drink before looking guiltily down at what is now his third glass of champagne.

“Sorry, I didn’t realize–” Alec starts, but Magnus immediately waves a hand dismissively at the apology.

“You have nothing to apologize for. We haven’t had a lot of time to just sit and talk since… well, before everything.” There was a lot of ‘everything’ covered by that vague statement, even though only a few days passed since he broke down on the balcony and ruined Alec’s proposal dinner. “Before I got my magic back, I told Maryse that I wasn’t going to drink anymore for a little while. I never want a repeat performance of that night…” Magnus knows he doesn’t need to specify which night for Alec to know which one. “I swore I would never burden you like that again. I know I have my tolerance back with my magic but it was still quite the wake-up call, and I think I want to stick with that promise. Or try to, at least.”

Alec nods, downing the rest of his glass in one go before holding it out to Magnus. “In that case, I’ll have what you’re having.”

Magnus shakes his head with a fond smile. “Alexander, you don’t have to–” “Of course I don’t, but I want to.” It’s such a simple gesture of solidarity but to Magnus, in this moment, it means the world.

“Alright. Just know that I honestly don’t mind if you want to indulge. This is your big day, after all. You deserve to celebrate.” Magnus draws the words out, buying time for Alec to change his mind and take the easy out. Alec doesn’t.

“It’s our big day,” Alec corrects him. “And all I need to celebrate is you.”

—

Given the short notice of the wedding, they’re both only able to take a few days on such short notice for an impromptu honeymoon. Those days are surprisingly simple because they’re more than a little preoccupied with one another, a wonderful distraction from any initial cravings Maganus might have. Again, they have a glass of wine over dinner, a drink with lunch, but that’s it. No excessive indulgences. It’s almost easy when it’s just the two of them.

The true test comes when they’ve returned to New York, but it’s one Magnus passes with flying colors… at first, in fact, it almost feels too easy to come back from their honeymoon and start their married life together as a new man. Maybe it’s just easier to psych himself out during such a monumental change in his life - his father is gone, he’s married, and he’s building up his client base one warlock at a time now that Lorenzo doesn’t have him on a universal Downworlder blacklist. Why not just slip this change in with the rest, while everything is already shifting and readjusting?

It goes well for a week or two until he gets particularly bad news about a sick warlock child. He first heard of her illness almost as soon as he got back to New York, and despite the fact that he immediately set to work on a particularly complicated elixir he’s currently in the middle of completing (one that took that full week of steeping and brewing and adding ingredients in just so over carefully measured intervals), it isn’t fast enough. He gets word that she died at 10:03 am on a Thursday, manages to hold off the worst of the impulses until 11:29 am, and pours his first glass of whiskey at 12:14 pm. Just one glass, he tells himself… which quickly turns into two, and then three, and then he isn’t bothering with the glass any more as he takes long swallows straight from the bottle.

Magnus hears Alec come home, he hears the greeting Alec calls into the apartment that he doesn’t reply to, and in the back of his head he knows that he shouldn’t be here. He should leave before Alec sees him and realizes that he fucked up… but he can’t be bothered to care just then. He certainly can’t be bothered to move. Alec walks into Magnus’ workroom to find his husband sitting on the floor next to a potion that’s hardening in the pot it was left in, two empty bottles of whiskey,  and one more nearly gone in Magnus’ hands.

The worst part of it all is that instead of numbing the pain he only feels worse.

“What happened?” Alec asks, hesitating by the doorway. He knows better than to crowd Magnus’ space when he’s like this before getting a read on the situation, and Magnus is grateful for it even as he watches Alec’s hands twitch, eager to reach out to him.

“I wasn’t good enough to save her” Magnus says, and Alec winces.

“The warlock girl… the sick one? She didn’t-” Alec starts, but can’t bring himself to finish that sentence, already knowing the answer.

“She died. She’s dead and it’s because I didn’t do enough…  there should’ve been something I could find to speed up the process, or if I was easier to reach they would’ve asked me sooner instead of going through local warlocks first, or-”

“Hey, hey,” Alec says, taking a few steps closer and kneeling down next to him on the floor. “You did everything you could. This isn’t your fault.”

Magnus shakes his head. “It is. And so is this,” he adds, half-heartedly lifting up the bottle in his hand. “Looks like I’m 2 for 2 in ruining everything that actually matters in my life right now. Careful, darling, or you’ll be next.” He knows his words have a slight slur to them but neither of them acknowledge it out loud. Alec doesn’t have to, the concern on his face speaks volumes.

Magnus wants to quit. He wants to take this as a clear sign that the sober life isn’t meant for him; he isn’t the sort of person who can just change himself after 400 years, so he should just admit defeat and move on. He almost does, expecting to look up into Alec’s face and see nothing but disappointment. It’ll be the final straw to make up his mind…

…but when he finally raises his eyes to meet Alec’s he doesn’t see disappointment, or anger, or even sadness. What he sees instead is resolve as his husband says, “I don’t believe that. And I don’t think you do, either.”

Easy for you to say, Magnus thinks, and he almost says those words out loud before he stops and really considers them. Is it easy for Alec? How could it be, to watch the man he loves struggle and fall apart? To know Magnus is doing his damndest to push Alec away?  This isn’t easy for Alec, either, even if he isn’t the one with the problem.

“You’re right. I’m not– of course I’m not thinking clearly right now.” Magnus can’t tell if he truly believes it or if he’s only saying what he knows Alec wants to hear. Either way it has the desired effect.

“How about we take a nice, long bath and go to bed early? We can sort out the rest in the morning.” Alec asks, and Magnus nods. There are no simple answers today. No solutions. He can’t undo what he did but he can pick himself up off of the floor - quite literally - and try to piece things back together. It isn’t the easy option and it’s the last thing he wants to do just then but when Alec reaches out a hand to him Magnus takes it.

He wants to give up, but he doesn’t. Not today.  

—

With Alec gone all day and Magnus with little to do outside of the occasional client, the drink cart situated in the corner of the room is more than a little tempting. He does well while Alec is around to see… but when his husband isn’t around Magnus starts to sneak a drink, or two, or three. It’s more habit than anything else and he hardly realizes he’s doing it until he has to make the effort to not do it around Alec.

It barely makes a difference - his tolerance is back to what it was before, and with his magic he barely feels anything under 4 or 5 drinks. Magnus certainly doesn’t think Alec notices until he comes home from visiting Raphael one night to hear the tail-end of a conversation Alec is having on the phone.

“I know. And I’m sure it isn’t a big deal, I just… I’m worried he’ll take it the wrong way.” Alec pauses, not hearing Magnus step inside and close the door gently behind him. “Of course you’re right, mom. It’s better I bring it up sooner rather than later. I just want to be there for him, after all, and–” Magnus places his bag down on the table, something inside clinking around enough to finally Alert Alec to his presence. Alec’s head whips around, eyes wide at the realization.

“I gotta go. Talk to you later.” Alec says before hurriedly hanging up the phone.

“And how is Maryse?” Magnus asks, eyeing Alec curiously.

Alec frowns. “How much of that did you hear?”  

“Enough to know you’re worried about telling me something - which shouldn’t even be an emotion that crosses your mind, dear. This is us we’re talking about, after all.” Magnus smiles, and it only wavers the slightest bit in anticipation which threatens to betray the total confidence his words exude. “What’s wrong?”

“Well…” Alec starts slowly, and there’s no denying the anxiousness in his voice, the implication of worry behind the long pause as he seems to debate just how much of what’s wrong he plans on actually sharing now that he’s put on the spot. “You’ve been drinking.”

Magnus frowns and does what he does best - tries to spin the truth, a skill he picked up and finely honed over centuries of dealing with Seelies. “Of course I have. You know I have a glass or two when we-”

“No,” Alec cuts him off, before the cover can go on for too long and they both decide it’s just easier to pretend it’s the truth. Magnus thinks for a brief moment that he isn’t sure he’s ever seen his husband look quite so nervous before, which is a concerning realization considering the sorts of situations he’s seen Alexander face.

Alec walks over to the drink cart, picks up a bottle, and grabs the stele out of his pocket to wave over one of the sides. A line appears that wasn��t visible before… a line that’s over a full inch above where the current level of liquor sits.

Rage flares up in Magnus, eyes narrowing.  

“You marked my bottles?!  You actually - I cannot believe you have such little trust in me you would go behind my back like this.” His words grow louder with every syllable, voice shaking, eyes wide. He’s on the defensive, words biting and sharp, and even though he sees the cringe on Alec’s face and the pain in Alec’s eyes the moment Magnus snaps out that first statement he doesn’t stop. “Have you been following me, too? Paying off waitresses to tell you how many martinis I ordered at lunch with Catarina?”

“Magnus, I just want to help. I can’t help if I don’t know that you’re having a problem-”

“Oh, so now you think I have a problem, too?”

“That isn’t what I meant and you know it,” Alec snaps back this time. It should be enough to give Magnus a moment of pause but it isn’t. He feels too much like a wild animal backed into a corner, with nothing but the instinctive need to fight his way free. Before he can push back Alec continues, not backing off this time. “You told me this was something you wanted to do. I only want to help you if you’re having a difficult time with it. The groups I talked with to help Izzy with her addiction, they deal a lot with alcohol addiction, too. They said marking the bottles–”

“I know why you marked the goddamn bottles, Alec. I’ve been around for centuries, you think I don’t know what AA is?” Magnus rolls his eyes. Up until now he’s told himself he doesn’t really have a problem. He’s doing this because he wants to, not because he has to. Certainly not because anyone else believes he should be doing it. He actually had himself convinced that his husband was just going along with it for his own sake after Alec’s initial reaction at the wedding… he never stopped to consider that Alec might actually think he has a problem worth worrying about, too.

“I just want to be here for you,” Alec tries again, echoing the words he spoke to his mother on the phone. “And if you actually thought this was okay you wouldn’t have tried to hide it.”

Magnus turns away, seemingly in anger but mostly because he doesn’t think he can see the hurt and confusion in Alec’s eyes and remain as stubbornly upset over this as he wants to be.

“I can’t do this right now,” Magnus says finally, grabbing his bag back off of the table before heading for the door. “I’ll be back later. Don’t wait up.”

“Magnus, wait-” Alec starts, but it’s too late. Magnus is out the door without so much as a stutter in his step, and doesn’t stop until he’s cleared the block. He knows it isn’t fair to Alec - he’s only trying to help, and in fact, Alec went above and beyond in that department. But Magnus feels blindsided and backed into a corner by the sudden confrontation, and he’s panicking, and now he’s aimlessly wandering the streets of New York with nowhere to go and nothing to do.

So he walks, pointedly ignoring the buzzing of his phone in his pocket. He doesn’t go to Cat because he knows that she’ll agree with Alec. He fears the same for Maryse and Isabelle (both of whom Alec surely spoke to already), and Raphael is out of town. So instead he wanders without a destination, and he thinks. He could just change his mind and take it back. He tried, he failed, and he’s fine going back to the way things were before.

…isn’t he?

The moment he considers that option he knows it’s a lie. The time he spent sober, not relying on alcohol as a crutch or as something to numb the difficult days, was some of the most fulfilling time he’s had in recent years. Maybe he doesn’t want to quit forever but he can’t give in now, not while his motivations are still suspect.

Alec is right: he wouldn’t be hiding it if he thought what he’s doing is okay. That should’ve been his first sign that he isn’t as alright as he’s pretending to be.

Magnus finally pulls his phone out to call Alec, only to see a number of missed calls and texts from Catarina and Raphael as well.

Cat: Where are you? Alec’s worried sick, he thought you’d be here but I told him you weren’t, and now we’re both worried. Call one of us, please.

Raphael: I don’t know how your husband got my number but if he’s upset enough to call me I feel like I should be concerned. Are you alright? Call me, por favor.

Magnus texts them both back that he’s fine and he’ll talk to them later before calling Alec’s cell. Alec picks up before the first ring even finishes.

“Magnus, thank the Angel. I’m so sorry-”

“Alec, don’t. Please don’t apologize - you have nothing to be sorry for. I’m the one who should be apologizing,”  Magnus sighs. “I’m coming home.”

Magnus is dreading the conversation he knows he’ll have to have when he gets back, so he walks slowly and gathers his thoughts. When he finally opens up the front door of the apartment he sees Alec on the sofa trying very hard to look like he hasn’t just been sitting there, waiting. There’s a book open next to him as well as  a cup of tea that’s long since gone cold.

“Sorry I worried you,” Magnus starts, figuring it’s as good a place as any.

“It’s alright, as long as you’re alright.” Alec says, eagerly tossing the book to the side. “…you are, aren’t you?”

“I didn’t go drink a bottle of whiskey and pass out in a gutter somewhere, if that’s what you’re asking.” Magnus declares, deflecting.

“That isn’t what I-” Alec starts, and Magnus can already feel this turning into the conversation from earlier all over again, defensive and hostile.

“I know, I know it isn’t. Sorry, I shouldn’t joke about it like that. I just don’t know how to do this? I can’t tell when I only feel like I want it, or when I feel like I need it. And I know with my powers back I could drink for hours and be fine, but that doesn’t mean I should. And I’m just having a difficult time reconciling those things.”

Alec listens. “I get it. I mean, I don’t get it, obviously. I just want to do whatever’s best for you. You said this was something you wanted to do, and I want to be here in whatever capacity I can if it is. But if it isn’t…” Alec trails off. It isn’t like it’s been a huge problem outside of those days without his magic prior to Alec’s attempted proposal.

But one look at him and Magnus can tell that Alec is reluctant to say he’ll support Magnus if he decides to go back on  everything he said before… but Alec also doesn’t want to push him if he doesn’t want this anymore. And since Alec isn’t about to force him, the decision rests in Magnus’ hands now.

The weight of that isn’t lost on the Warlock, who falls silent for a long while after Alec’s words trail off, thinking them over.

“How about we start with full disclosure? Maybe trying to cut it all out at once was a bad idea. But I won’t hide anything any more, and we can take things from there?” Magnus takes a deep breath. “And no more pushing you away.”

Alec smiles, soft with a hint of sadness, and nods. “That sounds like an amazing plan. And I’m sorry for going behind your back with the bottles. I should’ve just said something to you first. I guess we both don’t really know how to do this… but we’ll figure it out. Together.”

And that’s all it takes for something so terrifying, something so monumental for the both of them to tackle, to feel entirely doable.

Because they’re doing it together.

————–

It soon becomes obvious that it isn’t how much he’s drinking, or even what he’s drinking - it’s the reason behind it, the emotional state that brings the urges about. Magnus is fine to have a drink or two with friends, or with Alec over meals, without the slightest bit of guilt. It helps to ease him into cutting back before cutting off entirely, since the all-or-nothing attempts weren’t working out.

What he can’t have is the drink cart in the apartment fully stocked with all of his go-to vices for days when the weight of the world feels a little too heavy. And what he can’t do is turn to that before he turns to a friend when things go wrong.

It’s easier said than done, but he does it just the same. He isn’t perfect, but Alec is there every step of the way to bring him back when he starts to slip. There are bumps in the road and nights out that, because he spent so long abstaining in-between, he indulges a little too much… but he’s finding a balance. He’s finding things that work for him because he wants to, and not because he feels pressured to by anyone for any reason other than simply getting better. 

The more Magnus allows himself to go to Alec  - or even Maryse, Catarina, or Raphael - when he’s having a particularly rough go of it, the easier it is to end that day on a positive note. That isn’t to say he doesn’t have some days that are worse than others; days when Alec comes home and Magnus admits he went out for a few too many drinks with an old friend and somewhere along the line started putting gin in the ‘just tonic’s. But it’s better than the start, and he’s making solid progress.

The first few times Isabelle invites him along to a meeting he turns her down. But after one particularly trying day when he finds himself pacing, actively trying to talk himself out of portaling to the nearest bar, he calls her up instead. It seems silly to talk about his life in mundane terms, and to think of it as a disease to be cured and not just a personality trait to be corrected. He doesn’t go often but it’s nice to hear from people who are going through the same thing.

It helps.

He takes up training with Alec to channel his frustrations. That helps, too… as does another less public form of stress relief Alec is more than happy to indulge in when Magnus needs a distraction.

Magnus hardly notices when he starts cutting back from casual social drinking as well, only imbibing once or twice a week until he isn’t even doing that. He reaches a point where he no longer feels as if he needs it- but more than that, he doesn’t even want it any more.

After an entire month without touching a single drop of alcohol Magnus comes home to dinner and a glass of sparkling cider on the table waiting for him.

“I thought this deserved a toast. I hope it’s alright, I know you didn’t say anything about it earlier so I’m not sure if you wanted to celebrate or not, but I know a full month is a pretty big milestone, and-” Alec starts to ramble a bit, and Magnus silences him with a finger brought up to Alec’s lips, followed quickly by a kiss.

“It’s fine. It’s perfect, Alexander. Thank you.” Magnus picks up his glass and waits for Alec to do the same. “To you, and all the unwavering love and support you’ve offered from the start.” Mangus says the words, moving his glass forward to meet Alec’s with a delicate ‘clink’.

“And to you” Alec adds. “For making this difficult decision for yourself and sticking to it. I’m so proud of you, Magnus.”

“Thank you. For everything,” Magnus smiles.

He knows better than to think one month means he’s rid of it for good, but Magnus allows himself this night to bask in the feeling of this current victory, even if it ends up being temporary.

Because this - despite what he’s sure they all believe - isn’t the first time he’s attempted to quit drinking. This is, however, the longest he’s managed to stick with it. There were times in his past - whether out of a loss of a loved one, or the loss of love itself, or sometimes just the weight of the things he’s seen and the horrors he’s lived through - where he’s gone too far even with his warlock tolerance to balance things out. He’s tried on his own to stop drinking in the past, obviously with little to no success given the recent state of things.

He doesn’t tell Alec all of that, however. If this fails - if he fails - he wants it to seem as if this is just a first attempt and not just another in a long line of broken promises to himself to get better.

Except this time he has something he didn’t have during any of those previous attempts. This time he has friends and family to support him; he has people to lean on.

This time he has Alexander.

And with Alec by his side he feels like he can take on the world, one glass of sparkling cider at a time.