#tmbiak

[mirrorofliterature]

teach me (but I already know)

chapter 1: how do you hold this?

A story from a while ago centred around pining, stupidity and the odd game of tennis. Enjoy the journey best friends Magnus and Alec will take. Inspired by a prompt I asked @magnusbicon for. Read on AO3.

The sun-dappled their kitchen, the lack of curtains apparent; it was beautiful, but its brightness was unwanted by both of them.

"Alexander," Magnus moaned, striding into their kitchen in his worn dressing gown, "turn the sun off."

Alec stifled a snort. "Can't, Magnus."

"It's 7 o'clock. Why didn't we choose easy professions?" Magnus collapsed on a stool and leaned against the kitchen bench - a thin layer of 'marble' - his hair falling into his eyes.

It had been quite the something getting used to morning Magnus, but it had made the most sense to move in together after college.

Their respective jobs were gruelling, but the pay was decent enough together that they could afford a - whilst small - nice, two bedroom apartment in Brooklyn, though the view wasn't that great, just of the grey industrial buildings next door.

Alec looked at Magnus in exasperation before moving behind the counter to pour out their coffee from the stewing pot. "Because we're passionate people, Magnus, and 'I want a vocation, not a soulless job!'"

"Why do you know me so well?" Magnus complained, though the warm glint in his eyes underlining it said otherwise.

"Because we're best friends. Now," Alec said, shoving a coffee towards Magnus with a little more force than necessary, "drink this before you say something you will regret. I'll make some pancakes, we've got enough time."

At this, Magnus' eyes widened and he nearly spat his coffee out. "The last time you tried to cook pancakes, I think my tongue wanted to commit suicide." Fatigue forgotten, Magnus walked into the kitchen quickly, almost tripping over the tiles. "Shoo!"

"Alright," Alec said, grinning, walking out. "Now, pancakes?"

"Fine," Magnus relented, pulling out the frying pan. "I don't have to leave for another hour. You?"

"Because I had that night shift last night," Alec replied, stifling a yawn, "I don't have to come in till ten so I thought I'd do the laundry and maybe read a little."

Magnus froze from where he was getting the milk out of the fridge. "The laundry?"

Alec laughed, shaking his head. "Magnus, it's not going to explode. Don't you trust me?"

"Yes," Magnus replied indignantly, placing the eggs on the counter, "but my clothes are delicate!"

Alec rolled his eyes. "I know how to take care of your clothes, Magnus - because I know how to take care of you."

"Hm," Magnus said, surveying Alec as his face softened. "I guess you do. D'you want chocolate?"

"God, yes," Alec groaned, "tomorrow's Friday, but I think I need something to keep me going."

"You always have me," Magnus said casually, whilst his head was buried in the cupboard, searching for the chocolate sauce. The pantry was a tad cluttered.

"Yeah," Alec replied, momentarily checking Magnus out, "I do. As do you me."

Just not in the way I want to, he thought, resigned yet still looking forward to the hour of playful banter stretched out before him.

...

“Are you sure, Madzie?”

Madzie nodded, determination sparkling in her dark brown eyes along with intelligence. "Do it. There are more positions than just D Major."

Magnus slowly peeled off the white lines that he had only put on Madzie's tiny violin last year - a 1/2 violin. "Why don't we start with A Major, then?" he asked, handing her the violin.

The violin was cheap - plastic, and pathetically obvious in contrast to Magnus' treasured, ancient yet highly expensive violin - but it was clear that it was well loved with the way it shone under the fluorescent lighting.

Madzie groaned. "I don't like scales," she muttered. "Are there any songs in A Major that I can play?"

No one likes scales, Magnus thought idly. Even though the elementary school he worked at was the lowest paid out of all of his four jobs - being an in school violin teacher was certainly a chaotic profession - it was the enthusiasm and innocence of the students who he worked with here that made it his favourite.

Madzie was an extremely prolific violinist for a seven-year-old, especially for one who had only picked up the instrument a year ago. She was probably going to do her Grade 1 Exam early next year at this rate.

Magnus ruffled around with some of the loose music sheets in his briefcase. "How about," he said, pausing at a piece and humming in appreciation, "do you like Harry Potter, Madzie?"

Madzie blinked, a small smile gracing her face. "It's alright, I guess. Don't know much about it. Why?" she asked, frowning.

"There's a piece called Leaving Hogwarts that's quite nice. You know your friend, Zoe?" Madzie nodded. "I've been talking with Mr Fell, and he thinks that both of you are around the same level in your respective instruments. How would you like to do a duet with her?"

Madzie's face lit up. "That'd be nice," she said, which for her was basically a squeal of excitement, for she used her words sparingly yet effectively, "I've heard Zoe, she's quite good at the piano. Can I at least see the piece first though, Mr Bane, please?"

Magnus smiled and slid the sheet onto the music stand - again, it was flimsy and dull, had almost broken more times than Magnus could count. "Do you want me to play it first, together or do you want to try it alone?"

"Together," Madzie ordered solemnly, picking up her carbon bow.

As Magnus picked up his own bow - dark cherry wood - and though he looked massive in comparison to Madzie, they fit well together as he let the music flow through him.

His vibrato was soft; he was playing pp because this was Madzie's time to shine; and shine she did, as she was sight reading and this was only her second year playing, her mistakes clumsy yet fixed almost instantly, and all in all, Magnus was proud of Madzie.

However, Madzie wasn't just a student - she was also almost like a niece to him, the adopted daughter of his dear friend Catarina, but she still insisted on calling him Mr Bane in school. He had only known her for a few years, after all.

Being a teacher wasn't the most rewarding job, and having multiple jobs, and therefore multiple bosses, to please made it even harder - but at the end of the day, at least Magnus knew he could return to his best friend Alec at their home, who understood, as his job as a police officer wasn't exactly the most forgiving either.

And he was happy with that.

Even if his heart secretly yearned for more.

...

Alec sighed, signing off on another cold case. There seemed to be an endless amount of criminals whose faces would be hidden for eternity; Alec got irrationally pissed off at every one like nothing else.

Well, maybe his own unrequited love for his best friend stung a little bit more.

However, that was irrelevant now. Alec had joined his current precinct fresh out of Police Academy at 21, after also having completed a degree in Criminal Justice as his college major at NYU - which co-incidentally was where he had met Magnus, even though they had not been doing the same courses - with Law as his minor. So, therefore, he had more than completed the three years prerequisite to being promoted to a detective.

Which was his dream. Whilst he enjoyed being a police officer, the thought of being a detective was just so much more enticing. In preparation for his potential promotion, he was about to undertake a part-time Computer Forensics degree - again at NYU. But he would never become a detective if he didn't speak up about his wishes.

Which brought him to this moment. Standing outside Santiago's office with bated breath, having just knocked on the door and now simply waiting for the anticipated 'come in' in cold dread.

There it was.

Raphael Santiago was a man a few years older than Alec who had climbed the ranks to Captain in record-breaking speed. He was prone to wearing sharp suits with bleached ties when not in action and today was no exception.

"Lightwood?" Raphael said, putting down his pen, "what is it that you need?"

Raphael was also an impeccably formal man. Though they had known each other for years, as Raphael's mother Guadapale had adopted Magnus when he was 14 and Raphael 17 - they were brothers - he still referred to Alec as his last name at work.

"Santiago." Alec remained standing. "I would like to express my interest in becoming a detective and to be further considered for any future detective promotions."

Raphael simply nodded, pulling out a notebook and his discarded pen. He jotted something down. "Thank you, Lightwood. I will take this into consideration."

Alec's ambition was no secret to those who even remotely knew him. He closed the door quietly, his shoulders slumping a little as he walked back to his desk to sign off on some more cold cases. Contrary to the stereotypes, Alec found the completion of paperwork satisfying and even somewhat enjoyable, which Magnus liked to tease him about.

"How'd you go?" asked Simon, not bothering to lower his voice, as soon as Alec sat down.

Simon had been a recently turned music from accounting major when Alec had first met him, though his minor had surprisingly been consistently Law. In an interesting turn of events, Simon had ended up following Alec to Police Academy.

He also was proud of the fact that he had introduced Alec and Magnus.

Anyway, Alec had tolerated Simon for years now and grudgingly had admitted that the boy was like another (annoying) younger brother that he felt obligated to take care of. Simon had shed many a tear that day.

"Fine," said Alec, flipping open a case. "Now, be quiet."

...

"You're not cooking, Alexander, unless you can show me a certificate for a cooking class by a certified professional. Whilst you're at that, take Izzy with you."

Alec pouted. You mistook salt for sugar only five times and then you weren't allowed to cook in your own home. "Fine. Take away?"

Magnus sighed and burrowed further into his mountain of blankets on the couch. "Please."

Alec opened up a drawer, got out their collection of menus and started to idly flip through them. "Pizza?"

Magnus scrunched his nose up in a way that Alec tried to not think as adorable. "Not feeling it."

"Hm..." Alec continued to flip, "Burger King?"

Magnus' eyes lit up. "You know me too well. Do they order in, 'cause I'm not going anywhere."

"It's really not that cold, Magnus," Alec muttered, putting the rest of the brochures away and jumping up to sit on the counter.

"The heater isn't working and we're in New York and it's nearly winter, I think I'm entitled to think that it's that cold, Alexander."

"But they do. Order in, that is." Alec got off the counter to pick up his phone, brushing off Magnus' complaint. "The usual?"

"Of course," Magnus scoffed, "I can't betray my onion rings like that."

...

They were lounging on their couches - plural, as they were both couch hogs - eating chips and trying not to get grease onto them.

"You know," Magnus said, his voice slightly muffled by all of the blankets surrounding him, "Madzie is quite talented."

"Is she?" asked Alec, looking over his glass of water. "So no parents have come in and roasted you yet?"

"No," Magnus scoffed, "I am a reputable teacher. Though," he admitted, "Raphael hasn't told me anything shocking about your performance yet."

Alec sighed. "Magnus, please. You know three other people in my precinct and all of them have passed on several messages from you at some point in the last four years; it's quite disconcerting."

Magnus sat up, his brown eyes narrowed. "It's a dangerous profession and you, sir," he said, pulling his other hand out of his blankets to point an accusing finger at Alec, "don't know the meaning of the word break."

"Like you're one to talk. And you're cleaning up your mess," Alec added, watching Magnus' fries teeter frighteningly close to the ground.

"Hmph," said Magnus, pulling out the offenders and eating them. "That reminds me, I don't have anything to drink!"

Magnus started to struggle out of his blankets and Alec rolled his eyes. "I offered."

"I don't want water," Magnus muttered, slumping back into the couch, "I want something proper-"

"I thought we agreed on no alcohol on school nights because someone can't control themselves," Alec said, raising his eyebrow.

"We did," Magnus muttered dejectedly. Then he blinked, an uncannily conniving smile spreading across his face. "Dear Alexander," he almost purred.

"Yes?"

"Could you pretty please get me one glass of champagne and I promise we get to watch whatever you want tonight and I won't be judgemental," Magnus said, pouting.

So Alec relented. He was only a man, after all, and - "Fine. But the cheap stuff and if you spill it you're paying for the dry-cleaning."

...

"You want to watch what?"

"Magnus, just because it's Hallmark, doesn't mean that it is sappy. Or only suitable for saps. Also," Alec added, shuffling around the kitchen - after extensive training, he was permitted to make microwave popcorn, "I thought we agreed on no judgement."

"Fine," Magnus said, sulking. "Why are we watching the latest episode though?"

"Because I want to." Alec slipped in the bag of popcorn and put the microwave on.

Magnus swivelled around and glared at him, though there was more concern than heat in his gaze. "ALEXANDER! Step away from the microwave now, it's bad for you."

"Sure, mum," Alec muttered under his breath.

"What was that?" Magnus asked, his voice dangerously low.

"Something true," Alec replied innocently. "Anyway, we're watching the latest episode of Murder, She Baked because I've seen all of the others. With Izzy," he added at Magnus' oddly crestfallen look, "which I probably should've done this time, but she's swamped with work at the moment, and she practically forced me to go ahead."

The microwave dinged and Alec instantly retrieved it, having neglected to follow through with his best friend's nagging. "Now. Popcorn and let's hope Hannah doesn't get herself killed this time. The cat is adorable, though."

As the credits rolled, Magnus threw Alec a slightly guilty look over the couch. "I've read the books and I'm hoping they don't follow with the love triangle, didn't even end well."

"And I'm the sap here," Alec sniped, pouring the popcorn into a large bowl and wincing at the larger than average amount of kernels as well as blackened pieces. "Now," he said, "budge over."

Magnus looked at him imperiously. "Why?"

"Because it's cold and you're hogging all of the blankets." Alec placed the popcorn onto Magnus' lap and slid onto the couch. "Now, no talking or no popcorn."

This kind of casual physical contact with Magnus was ordinary, comfortable almost.

But it wasn't in the way Alec secretly wanted.

...

"Promise me that you will never run towards the person with the gun, Magnus."

"What," Magnus gasped. "How dare you insinuate - ok, fair warning. But it's him?"

"I called it," said Alec smugly. "Now, shut up."

And so Magnus remained in relative quiet - except for the stifled laughs and a shocked - "ok, then" - before the credits started to roll.

"It was good," Magnus admitted reluctantly. "What time is it?" he asked, stifling a yawn.

Alec didn't even bother looking at the clock. "For bed. You've got the snooty school tomorrow, remember?"

Magnus groaned, pulling the blankets closer towards himself and further away from Alec. "Don't remind me. Fine, I'll go to bed."

As Magnus shuffled off to his room, Alec ran after him. "You can't steal all of the blankets. Give me one before you disappear."

Magnus peeled the outer one - the fluffiest one - off reluctantly. "Fine. I guess something that pretty shouldn't freeze to death."

Alec sighed and grabbed the blanket, ignoring Magnus' casual flirting. "What are you doing after work tomorrow?"

"Not much," Magnus admitted, yawning.

"Me neither. See you tomorrow," Alec said, patting Magnus on the shoulder before padding off to his bedroom.

Living with your best friend was pretty good. It only had some minor drawbacks, such as it was even harder to not spill out your heart and soul accidentally to them.

"G'night, Alexander."

"Goodnight. Don't stay up on your phone," he added sternly. "You need your sleep."

"So do you. I'll call the electrician after work tomorrow." And then Magnus slipped into his room, because another undeniable drawback about living with your best friend was that it was too easy to chat until the next day.

...

"Are you sure?"

Alec shrugged. "I haven't played in years, but it couldn't be that hard."

Magnus narrowed his eyes before taking his violin out of his case, caressing the instrument with extreme care. "Be careful."

"Of course I will be," Alec said reassuringly.

He picked up the violin, tucked it under his left chin and winced. Had it always been this uncomfortable?

"Alexander, darling, you have to put this on first." Magnus handed Alec his shoulder rest - a cushion of sorts between his shoulder and the hard wood of the violin.

"Oh," Alec said, annoyed. "I forgot." And then he picked up the bow and roughly pulled it across one of the middle strings. Or maybe both.

“Alexander,” Magnus laughed, shaking his head and wincing a little, “that was abysmal.”

“Yeah,” Alec said, continuing to glide his bow over the strings in a particularly ugly way, producing an ear-splitting screech, even though his lessons were now flooding back to him, “I’ve never done this before.”

Which was, strictly speaking, true. He hadn’t ever played this badly on purpose before.

“Hm,” Magnus said, tsking at the careless way Alec was holding the violin, his back slouched and palm pressed up against its neck, “d’you want some lessons, darling? Your last ones clearly weren't any good."

“Sure,” Alec replied, itching to stand up straight and take care of the violin properly, “if you’re willing, if it isn’t too much for you,” he added hurriedly.

Magnus paused. “Darling, we’ve been best friends for seven years and we live in the same apartment. I think I can find the time to teach you how to play this beautiful instrument. You’re treating it dreadfully,” Magnus suddenly added, swooping it from under Alec’s chin and hugging it, “it was making me dreadfully anxious.”

Well. This was going to be interesting.

Maybe he should have admitted to Magnus that he had only been rusty and he did, genuinely, know how to adequately play the instrument, but the prospect of Magnus teaching him how to play the violin, in the gentle and caring way he did, was simply too tempting.

"We can have a hit tomorrow, if you want," Alec offered, "of, you know, tennis. Izzy offered."

Magnus raised his eyebrows as he slipped his violin back securely into his case. "Izzy plays?"

"She dragged me and Jace off for a year of lessons when we were 15," Alec said, rubbing the back of his neck. "As well as a season of local competition. It was... interesting. I prefer Archery, but it should be fun. And you said you played a while back..."

"I did," Magnus confirmed, swinging his vibrant violin case up onto his back to put it away, "that should be fun."

…

After about the fifth time Magnus volleyed the ball over the fence, Alec sighed and jogged down to the other side of the court.

“Magnus,” he said, the wind ripping through his hair, “that was horrible. I thought you said you had played before?”

Izzy looked up from where she was sprawled on a bench, flicking through a magazine and gave Magnus a look.

“It’s been a while,” Magnus muttered, reaching up to fix his dragon ear cuff.

Why he was wearing that whilst playing tennis, Alec had no clue. Or his multitude of necklaces and rings.

“Well,” Alec said, raising his eyebrow, “perhaps we should start off with what you’re wearing.”

Magnus pouted, continuing to fiddle with his ear cuff.

“It’s inappropriate. The ear cuff can stay, but everything else – shoo!”

Magnus reluctantly, but slowly, took off the offending jewellery.

He does look good in them, Alec thought idly. “We’re going home.”

Alec ignored Magnus’ protest of ‘but we only just got here!’ and started to run off to collect the poor balls from the bushes Magnus had sent them into.

…

Catarina sighed. "What is it?"

Magnus walked up to his bedroom's window, peering through it to make sure that Alec was still occupied with talking to Isabelle.

"Alexander," he said mournfully, "he offered to teach me how to play tennis and I accepted like the fool I am!"

"But you know how to play tennis," Catarina replied, clearly confused.

"Beside the point," Magnus said, dismissing Catarina's perfectly reasonable remark. He put his phone on speaker, threw it onto his bed and collapsed dramatically next to it. "How am I supposed to survive?"

"Finally tell him how you feel? It has been literal years, Magnus, and we're all sick of your pining."

Magnus gasped as if he had been mortally wounded. "Confess? Are you out of your mind? Catarina, you of all people know that I cannot risk my friendship with Alexander for something as silly as feelings."

Magnus could feel Catarina's eye roll vibrating through the phone. "Magnus, they're not just 'feelings' or a silly crush. You're in love with him, and I'm pretty sure he feels the same way about you."

"Don't get my hopes up," Magnus said sorrowfully, "he doesn't. That is preposterous. Anyway, back to the matter at hand; the tennis lessons. It's going to be torture."

"Magnus," Catarina started patiently.

"I'm going to die a glorious death!" Magnus moaned, burying his head into his pillow.

"Shut up, idiot," she finished. "You're going to be fine."

"I'm also going to be giving Alec violin lessons," Magnus added in a much more relaxed manner. "He apparently already had lessons years ago, but the darling was terrible."

There was a long stretch of silence in which Magnus only knew Catarina hadn't hung up due to the lack of a beep.

"You've got this, Magnus," Catarina said in a softer voice. "You're 25, you're successful in your career, I think you can handle seeing Alec's muscles for a few hours. Ok?"

"Ok," Magnus replied slowly, playing with the fringes of one of his blankets. "Thank you, Catarina. Love you."

"Love you too," she said before hanging up.

Magnus could hear the rhythmical, even thumps of Alec's footsteps approaching and sat up, placing his phone on charge.

The front door creaked open and Magnus padded up to meet Alec.

"Hi," Alec panted, "Izzy wouldn't stop talking." His dark hair was sticking up, uncharacteristically all over the place. "I'll have a shower, then Brooklyn 99?"

Magnus nodded, rubbing his fingers together. "Sounds good."

Magnus shuffled off into the kitchen in his grey slacks and started on the popcorn.

On the stove. Because it tasted better and it was considerably healthier; he could also be trusted with it.

But certainly not with anybody's heart.

[mirrorofliterature]

teach me (but I already know) | chapter 2: why are you laughing | G | friends to lovers malec au

CH 1.

Jace and Alec banter; their first official lessons; and some more pining.

If New York ever did truly stop, they'd all be in trouble.

If Alec's love for Magnus ever ceased, he didn't know how he could function.