Notes: Written for the prompt, 'things you said through gritted teeth' and the (separate) prompt 'a story in which [Magnus's] true form is a dragon and/or all warlocks' true forms are dragons'. Hope you enjoy it!

There was nothing quite like seeing a Warlock spread their wings, or so Jace had been told. He'd never actually seen it happen – it rarely ever did, and usually when the Warlock in question felt threatened – so he hadn't had the chance to see for himself.

Until tonight.

He still couldn't believe that Magnus had reacted the way he had. It was unnecessary, if nothing else; it had been just a routine hunt and nothing more and yes, maybe Jace had been hurt in the process, but it was nothing that he hadn't dealt with before.

Magnus, if his reaction was to be considered, didn't share his assessment of the situation. Before Jace had had the chance to have another go at the last remaining demon, his eyes had shifted to the already familiar amber colour, his features sharpening as his first blast of magic reached its target.

That only seemed to anger the demon and when Magnus attacked again, Jace could feel the heat coming from the Warlock's hands on his own skin; could feel the sheer power coursing through his hands, the anger fuelling it not dissipating for a moment despite Jace's insistence that he could handle it on his own.

When the demon slithered closer, already wounded by Magnus's latest assault, and tried to swipe at them with its claws, Jace slashed through its armour in the base of its neck where it was most vulnerable, only to see it dissolve into three new creatures that somehow managed to surround them from all sides in record time.

Somewhere at this point, Magnus's patience had run dry. Before Jace could fully comprehend what he was seeing, the Warlock was already rising above him and the demons, just a few feet in the air but enough to get the upper hand.

It really was a sight to behold. Magnus's wings were nothing like the ones Jace had always imagined. Featherless and larger than he would have guessed, they fanned in the air behind his back as he sent one last blast of energy in the demons's general direction, wiping them out once and for all until they were dust on the ground in front of Jace.

"By the Angel," Jace muttered, kicking the sorry remnants of tonight's hunt. "Magnus, you didn't need to. I would have handled it."

"Not with that leg, you wouldn't have." Magnus said as he landed gracefully, pulling his wings tight against his back but not hiding them; not just yet. "And plus, that's what my wings are for. It doesn't cost me anything."

It was a lie. Jace often considered Magnus's magic to be almost infinite – and he wasn't far from the truth – but using his wings was still draining. His biology textbooks had covered that in the section about Warlocks and even though by the time said textbooks had been written, that little titbit had been an advice on how to weaken them, now – for Jace, at least – it was nothing but a source of worry. Magnus didn't overexert himself often, but when he did, it was always difficult for him to put himself back together.

Still, Jace couldn't help but marvel at the sight of him just then and he leant in for a quick kiss. It took Magnus off guard and he clearly hadn't expected it; his laughter against Jace's lips bearing an underlying question.

Seeing his wings shouldn't have been surprising. All Warlocks had them, even if the reasons for that were mostly unclear. The most sensible theory that Jace had heard on the matter – the one that Magnus himself had told him about – was that Lilith, the mother of all Warlocks, tended to manifest herself as a dragon when she wanted to scare mortals away and that some of those traits had been passed onto her descendants, no matter how much time had passed since the first of their kind had been created. None of them were actually Lilith's children, of course; as far as Jace was aware, she couldn't have any, but she'd claimed them anyway and her magic had made them what they were. Jace had heard legends about Warlocks who could turn fully into dragons if they wished to, but he hadn't proved that particular theory yet – Magnus could be rather tight-lipped when he wanted to be and apparently any discussion of his possible shapeshifting abilities was too much for him to handle just yet.

It wasn't that Jace had expected Magnus to trust him right away. Things always happened gradually with him – it had been almost a month before Jace had seen his eyes without the glamour and now, two months later, he'd been treated to another detail that he'd hidden away. He hadn't done it because he'd wanted to, really, but because Jace had been in danger and while he didn't want to push his luck, he didn't want to let Magnus slide back behind his usual veil of secrecy either without giving him a sign that he didn't have to do it. That was how things happened with the two of them for the most part; a step at a time, and Jace was more than fine with that arrangement when it came to himself. Where Magnus was concerned, however...

Making sure that his intentions were clear, he carefully moved behind Magnus's back, mindful of his wings where their edges were brushing the brick wall of the building next to them. He grew bolder when he wasn't stopped and reached out, trailing his fingers over the dark red expanse in front of him, almost in awe of how different they felt from anything he'd ever faced before.

"Are you sure they don't cost you anything?" He asked, still making the effort to keep his voice casual. "They seem– heavy."

"They are." Magnus's voice was carefully controlled, but there was an edge of something to it that made Jace draw his hand away as if he'd been burned.

"Does it hurt? When I touch them," he specified when the only answer he got was a raised eyebrow. "I wouldn't want–"

"It doesn't hurt," Magnus assured him. He was smiling in a way Jace couldn't really decipher; fond and tentative and so unlike his usual demeanour that it made trying to understand it all the more difficult. "They're just– not something that everyone gets to see. It's kind of private," he continued, "a Warlock's true form. Not everyone can handle it."

"So it's like being naked?"

"In a way." The response was still evasive, but not quite as much as before. He was looking at Jace now, locking their eyes together with enough determination for Jace to see just how much this cost him. "Being actually naked is much easier. It's fine," he continued and Jace wondered what expression he'd adopted while his boyfriend had been talking. "I wouldn't have let them manifest themselves in front of you if I didn't trust you with them."

It was a comforting thought; one that Jace had done his best to ignore ever since he'd seen Magnus's eyes for the first time. It was another thing that had happened during a hunt (the first one Magnus had accompanied him on, if Jace remembered correctly) and he knew better than anyone that battles were precisely the time when the line between rational and emotional decisions was blurred enough for people to regret some of the things they said or did later on. The last thing he wanted was for that to be the case here too; for Magnus to trust him with a piece of himself because he felt like he didn't have a choice.

"They're beautiful," he said despite himself. Magnus didn't need his compliments, Jace was sure of it, and that made making them all the easier. "I never thought– I thought they would be smaller."

"They're big enough to hold me up when I need them to," Magnus shrugged and Jace couldn't help but marvel at his nonchalance; at the fact that something so breathtaking was usual for him. "Me, and anyone else I could need to carry."

"You don't mean–" But he did, if the glint in Magnus's eyes was anything to go by, and by the time he let the thought enter his mind, Jace knew that there was no way he was going to pass up on the opportunity. "What if you drop me?"

"I don't think that's possible." Magnus's fingers loosened their hold around Jace's and slowly shifted, his nails turning into claws that looked far deadlier than most weapons he had ever come across. Jace latched onto his hand again without a moment's hesitation, Magnus's warm touch familiar and foreign all at the same time. "We don't have to try it if you don't want to," the Warlock added, voice just as casual as it had been during his suggestion. "It's not a good idea, especially if you're afraid of heights."

"I'm not afraid of anything." Jace could recognise bait when he saw it, and to his surprise, he took it more than eagerly. "Show me what you can do."

It was the response that Magnus had anticipated, it seemed, and Jace felt all remaining anxiety about the still fragile trust between them dissipate in the night air. Magnus did trust him, with this if with nothing else, and his hold around Jace's hand tightened once more in clear warning to brace himself.

With his eyes wide open, Jace let himself be pulled up into the air.