Merry Christmas, Happy Hanukkah, and have a splendid Kwanza, my dearies.

Bow

Planes always made me feel sick.

Something about being locked in a flying tube for hours on end with strangers never failed to make my skin crawl. The worst part was the bathroom situation. Ever since my brother Jace mortified me in an airplane bathroom, I haven't been able to enter one without getting all freaked out. So, of course, the first thing I did when I landed was sprint to the bathroom.

The second thing I did was call my boyfriend.

A shoddy rendition of Carol of the Bells tinkled over my head and I couldn't help but wonder if it was recorded using a Fisher-Price piano. I stared at my reflection as I scrubbed my knuckles. There was a streak of pen on my Brown University t-shirt and my beige cords had seen better days. I pulled my oversize Army jacket closer as someone opened the door and brought more of the cold in with them. Magnus was going to tut-tut at me for my lack of style. Or rip my clothes right off. My eyes went a little unfocused and my phone slid from in between my shoulder and my ear. It wouldn't have mattered if it fell in the sink. He wasn't going to pick up. The lazy butt was probably sleeping.

Magnus loved to sleep.

Outside the bathroom, LaGuardia was buzzing. The crowds of Christmastime departures and arrivals were teeming, filled with coughing and screaming babies and snow falling off of boots. I pushed through them with my eyes glued on my phone. Elbows bustled and jabbed and I was nearly knocked in the eye by a skinny Salvation Army Santa who screamed "HO HO HO! MERRY CHRISTMAS!" in my ear. As far as my parents knew, I wasn't at the airport. I wasn't in New York - I was still in Rhode Island for another night. Of course, Isabelle and Jace knew where I was; it was a little secret between the three of us. Isabelle thought it was romantic that I was coming home early to see my boyfriend. Jace thought I was just charming Magnus into having sex with me.

Ah, the folly of straight relationships. There was no coaxing between Magnus and I. We were, in the plainest sense, two horny teenage boys. Very little finesse was needed. That didn't mean Magnus didn't like pampering. He was a romantic at heart. And of course I wasn't just coming home early to fuck. I missed him like crazy. In fact, sex was probably the farthest thing from what we would spend our night doing. I was tired from the flight and Magnus was still living with his uncle, who happened to be a priest. We were probably going to bake cookies and watch Rudolph or something like that.

I trudged out into the slush. The snow was coming down thickly, partially obscuring the line of cabs. I picked one and hauled my suitcase into the backseat with me, then headed off to Brooklyn. On the way over I pawed through my suitcase to find the little stuffed caterpillar I'd bought for him at a toy store in downtown Providence. It had the same dopey smile as Magnus whenever he was really, truly happy. It was all teeth and cheeks, his eyes little glimmering slits. It wasn't his real present, though. That was tucked away safely at the very bottom of my bag.

The cab wasn't moving fast enough.

I needed to see my Maggie Bean. I needed to give him a bear hug and smell that smell of his, like sandalwood and cinnamon. I needed to kiss him with lots and lots of tongue and then cuddle with him on his couch.

And maybe if I was lucky we could slip in some super special under-the-pants touching, provided his uncle was far far away. I sighed sadly, remembering the old days when we would fuck like rabbits everywhere and anywhere. We had so much opportunity when we lived in the same city. A date didn't require an airplane.

As we crossed into Brooklyn, I tried to think up the last time I'd gotten any. It was when I came home from Halloween, I remembered. Magnus took me to a party. He was dressed as a Roman soldier and I was Spiderman. A couple drinks and I was on my back in a giant bathtub with Magnus grunting, "This. Is. SPARTA," on top of me. My face felt hot as I blinked the memory away.

The cab stopped at the end of Magnus's street, but couldn't go any further. A giant snowbank forbade entry. I sighed dramatically and tipped the cab driver, assuring him I could make it from there.

"Hey, wait a sec," he said as I slid out of the back seat. "You aren't that Lightwood kid, are you?"

I smiled politely at him and said, "Nope. A lot of people say I look like him, though."

"Yeah..." The cabbie was looking at me in his rearview mirror, so his view was a little fogged. "Good looking fellow. My nephew is obsessed with him."

I meant to agree and leave, but something pulled at my heartstrings. Obsessed - I knew how that felt. For some insane reason I pulled out my wallet and picked out my underused drivers license. I showed the guy that I was, in fact, Alec Lightwood before pulling out a piece of paper from my backpack. "What's your nephew's name?" I asked.

"Tyler," he said happily. "Well, I'll be damned. A celebrity in my cab."

I snorted. "Hardly."

Tyler, I'm not good at autographs and I don't want to write something generic or cheesy. So... Thanks for liking me. I like you too. Merry Christmas! -Alec Lightwood

I handed him the autograph through the passengers window and he thanked me a couple dozen times before peeling away from the curb. I stared after it for a couple minutes, imagining that I'd just made some gay kid's Christmas complete. It made me all warm and fuzzy as I climbed over the monstrous snowbank and valiantly shuffled my way to Magnus's door. On my sides were blurs of Christmas lights. It was hard to see with the giant snowflakes thundering down from the dark grey heavens. His uncle's car was on the curb, piled in snow. The lights in his house were on against the cloudy afternoon. It looked so warm and comforting that for a moment I wished I could just stay in New York forever. Providence was all right. I had friends and class to keep me occupied and my mom and dad visited me in my obnoxiously luxurious apartment often, but nothing made me homesick quite like Magnus.

I thought of knocking, but then decided there was know use. They knew I was coming and I refused to give up my old habit of just walking in. The first floor of the house was completely silent. Magnus's house was usually anything but silence. There was always a TV going or a radio playing or someone banging something. Talking. Singing. Chatter.

There was none.

For a moment I was certain no one was home. But then why was the door unlocked?

I ditched my shoes and shut the door. The house was warm, the Christmas tree was heavy with decorations and the lights were glowing. Chairman Meow slept on the dining room table. He lifted his head to sniff at me as I walked through, rustling the snowman printed table cloth. There was a giant nativity scene set up on the sideboard. I looked down on it as I passed and noticed that the baby Jesus in the manger was made out of a peanut. The stairs creaked gently under my feet as I crept up them, unable to use the garland wrapped banister. They really went all out.

At the top of the stairs I stopped and listened. Magnus's room was silent. I hesitated in front of the door. What if he was planning to jump out and scare me? That was a risk I was willing to take.

I pushed the door open and my jaw dropped.

"Sweet peanut Jesus," I gasped.

Magnus was laying on his side, propped up on his elbow, wearing nothing but a pair of underwear with a giant red bow stitched to the front. His hair was shaggier than I remembered, face naked of make up. I could see curled spacers in both of his ears and his gold crucifix resting at the base of his throat. Teeth gleaming and eyebrows lifted, he ran his fingertips from the outside of his knee, up his thigh, and onto his ribs.

"Merry Christmas, Alexander."

My luggage hit the floor. I pushed it into the hallway and slammed the door shut. Magnus started rising off the bed, pure happiness in his eyes. I dropped to my knees on the bed, straddling him. He wrapped his arms around me and I pushed my fingers into his hair. Our kiss was electric. It tasted like cinnamon gum and hot chocolate. Magnus wasted no time in grabbing at my ass. I moaned loudly against his lips, wanting to show him how much I missed him. His tongue ran over the roof of my mouth and my fingers twisted harder in his hair, tugging.

We pulled apart. "Hey Magnus," I said innocently.

He wrinkled his nose at me. "How was your flight?"

"Long," I frowned. "I think I might smell. I should take a shower."

Suddenly I was being whipped around, thrown under Magnus. He pinned me. My shirt was riding up and our bare skin brushed together when he leaned down. "No you shouldn't. You should have sex with me."

I snorted. "What about Jay?"

"He's not home." Magnus stuck his bottom lip out and batted his eyelashes. "Please? Pretty please? Pretty please with sugar on top?"

I rolled my eyes, running my hands over his chest. Magnus leaned into my touch when I brushed his hair away from his eyes. It fell back into place after my hand was gone. "You would rather deal with my B.O. than wait ten minutes for me to shower?"

He thought about it for a moment and then lowered his crotch down onto mine, adding pressure. I squirmed. Magnus sniffed the air. "I don't smell anything."

I pushed him off, laughing, and sat up. "You can ravish me when I'm clean."

Magnus's Adam's apple bobbed at the thought of ravishing. He frowned and crossed his arms like an indignant child. "Okay, but I'm not happy about it."

Before going to shower, I made Magnus fill me in with everything I'd missed since October. Even though we talked almost everyday, he had a million things to say. While I found a towel and dragged my backpack back into the room, he rattled off gossip about people I knew nothing about and told me all about his current projects. "So I'm making this dress entirely out of Band-Aids, and you think it'd be easy, right? Well it's fucking hard as shit. The Band-Aid's keep getting cat hair in them and falling off and stuff. I thought it would be a cool, cute beige dress, but the more I work on it the uglier it gets. My sketches are getting better, though."

He reached into his knapsack. It was the same one he used in high school. I watched him flip through it while I pulled off my socks. He ruffled through the pages quickly; so quick that I almost missed it. Almost. I shot my hand out and forced him to go backwards. Magnus let go of the sketchbook and when I looked up at him he was blushing.

"Uh, that was just doodling."

I searched the sea of immaculate sketches of clothes and fruit and the Chairman. It was easy enough to find the picture of me in the sea of cats and stilettos. I had my knees pulled up to my chest and was smiling open-mouthed, like I was mid-sentence. Both of my eyebrows were high up on my forehead and my hands were folded over my ankles. There was an actual photo of me in that exact position on Facebook. It was taken on the sidewalk outside of a club with some of my Providence friends.

"Whoa," I murmured, looking back up to his face. "I didn't know you could draw people."

He smiled sheepishly at me. The expression was weird on his face. Nothing made Magnus sheepish. "Do you like it?"

I handed him the sketchbook back, chuckling, and threw my arms around his shoulders. He melted into the kiss with a smile. I could only savour the sweetness of the moment for a couple of seconds. Magnus took the opportunity to grab my ass and I had to pull away. "I like it," I said standing up. "Be back in a few."

I took my shower as fast as I could. There were little ducky's suction cupped the tile and the shower head got incredible pressure. I loved showering at Magnus's house, but not that day. Magnus was mostly naked and waiting. The mature university student persona I'd been trying to put on was cracking at the thought of him trailing that hand up and down his body. I was quickly turning back into the shivering virgin, leaning against a sink in a school bathroom while Magnus made light explode inside my eyelids.

Okay, enough of that. I snapped off the water, ran a towel over myself, and threw on a pair of boxers before I all but ran back to Magnus's room. He heard me, but didn't look up from the magazine he was flipping through lazily. The bored look on his face told me that he could wait a million years for me. The way his feet twitched when I shut the door said he was bluffing.

"Is the princess ready to dance yet?"

I nearly squeaked, "Yes!" and then cleared my throat. "I'm ravish-able."

Magnus finally looked up. His pupils exploded. "Yes, you certainly are." I smirked and flexed my arms and abs. His cheeks flared red and he took a single long draw of air. "Come here."

I did as he said, almost falling into his arms. He rolled us so that he was on top and rested on his elbows above me, simply staring. "I miss you," he said, tracing his fingers just above my skin, but not touching. "I miss the way you smell, and the way your nose wrinkles when you smile, the way you sound..."

"I call you all the time," I chuckled, taking his hand. We laced fingers and he brought them up to his face. "You know how I sound."

"Not those sounds," he said. "The small sounds. Like this." Magnus pulled his hand away and skimmed it from my throat down to my nipple, which he tweaked lightly. A soft sound escaped from the back of my throat and he grinned in triumph. "See?"

"I miss you too," I mumbled as I wrapped my arms around him and tugged him down.

We were connected like that. Chest to chest, stomach to stomach, my underwear flat against his stupid bow. Our thighs pressed together and past our knees our legs were a tangle. Magnus fit there. We kissed for a few moments; dry, hard kisses. Magnus pulled my bottom lip out a bit, meeting my eyes as he reached beneath me and grabbed my ass once more.

"Can we have sex now?" Magnus murmured in my ear.

I smacked his arm playfully and wrapped my legs around his waist. "I never thought you'd ask."

It was slow at first. Magnus took a million years to roll off my boxers, making sure to tickle my feet as he went along. He let me pull off the bow underwear and agreed intensely when I asked to play with my gift. Ten minutes later, he was sweaty and gasping and I hadn't even started yet. We grappled for a bit, him wanting to make me pay for nearly torturing him while I rolled out of his way and begged him just to fuck me already. We ended up on the floor with me trying to crawl under his bed. He pulled me out by my ankles and had me lean against the side of the futon while he thoroughly enjoyed a certain piece of my anatomy. His mouth was hot and damp, his tongue soft but not too soft.

Huffing and puffing, I slumped against the futon while Magnus snaked his way back up to kiss me sweetly. He climbed onto the bed and I went with him, needing more - needing all of him. The cap of the lube snapped off and Magnus's hands worked quick and effortless. It had been a while since I'd done anything like full blown sex, so Magnus needed to be slow. At one point I caught him rolling his eyes while I grabbed his shoulders so hard my knuckles turned white.

"God, you're such a virgin."

"Shut up slut."

Magnus tugged me closer at my insult and I made a loud cracking noise. His smirk was so smug I almost pushed him off and huffed away. But I wasn't willing to give up sex, so I stuck my tongue out at him and he all but sucked it into his mouth. Soon enough the bed was creaking at a rigorous pace. I crossed my ankles and gripped at his pointy shoulder blades. Magnus was too skinny. For a moment, clinging to him while he thrusted as if his life depended on it, I worried that he wasn't eating enough. Whenever he got into an art project he always forgot about stupid little things like food and sleep. I almost said something about it -

And then he hit my prostate and I stopped caring about his daily calorie intake. "Right there, Maggie Bean. Right there."

He rolled up onto his knees, dragging me with him. I leaned back on my palms and helped him by bringing my hips down on his thrusts. "I love it when you call me Maggie Bean," he said roughly. "You're so cute."

"Uh huh," I gasped before biting my lip and tilting my head back.

Pretty soon Magnus's legs started to cramp up and we had to switch positions. He ran his fingers down the notches in my spine while I knotted his sheets in my fingers and kept my yelps to a minimum. He grabbed my hips and started forcing me backwards. The sound of squealing metal and skin crashing onto skin was threaded with helpless moans and frantic gasps.

Somewhere in the room my phone started ringing.

Magnus stopped and sighed heavily. He pulled out and I swore loudly. Of course someone would call in the middle of sex. I wouldn't be Alec Lightwood without a consistently cock-blocking sister. I found my phone on the desk and answered with, "What?"

"So you are off the plane?"

"I'm at Magnus's."

She made a noise of disapproval. "And you didn't even think to call me."

"Sorry, I've been a little preoccupied."

"We were having sex!" Magnus shouted in the background.

Isabelle groaned. "Oh, gross."

"We weren't!" I cried.

"Yes we were! Now hang up and get back in my fuzzy handcuffs!"

"Jesus Christ!" shrieked Isabelle. "Is he serious?"

"No, but we were actually... in the middle of something."

Dial tone.

I clicked off on my phone and glared at Magnus. He frowned for once and said, "Does it actually bother you when I do that?"

For a moment I thought about it. Magnus had a habit of shouting out details of our sex life when I was on the phone with my siblings, but I'd never truly found it embarrassing. Actually, I had missed it. "I think it's funny," I admitted. "So no, it doesn't bother me." He looked proud for a moment. I suppose he was about to say something lovey-dovey about me and the things I did that didn't embarrass him, but I cut him off by running a quick palm over my dick and saying, "Okay, back to sex making."

And just like that it was back on.

Grappling and panting and begging for just a little bit more, just a little bit faster. I could basically see Magnus doing math questions in his head. He was trying to hold off because in his mind good sex was long sex. I didn't believe that one bit. Good sex was any sex where you didn't feel all-consuming post orgasm guilt. That was most sex with Magnus, which put him high up in my good books.

Seeing as how he was the only person I had ever slept with, that didn't really mean much.

Magnus had me caged in his arms. I was braced against him as he leaned over the side of the bed, his hands under my knees. The angles he hit were nothing I had ever felt before. I started screaming - short, controlled bursts of "AH AH AH AH AH". The neighbors were probably staring awkwardly around, trying to ignore the fact that they could clearly hear wild sex happening next door. I was getting close, almost to the point where it physically hurt to hold it in anymore. I began to orgasm without him, my whole body rolling like an ocean at high wind. There was no way I was going alone.

It was time to pull out the big guns.

"Ne vous arrêtez pas!" I shouted. "Pour l'amour de Dieu, ne vous baise arrêter!"

Magnus squawked and his eyes rolled up into the back of his head. He gripped my knees so tightly that Charlie horses were a certainty. "Alec, fuck!" he gasped as his spasms came to an end. "Stop it with the French! I can't handle the French."

He rolled off of me, his whole body shivering slightly. A draft was snaking its way through the cracks around his window and chilling our sweaty skin. I pulled a knit blanket over us and nestled against him, smiling. "I thought you liked the French..."

"Oh, I love the French."

"J'aime le français?"

Magnus sighed and tilted his head back. "My God, Alec."

"Mon Dieu, Magnus."

He picked up a decorative pillow and smacked me softly in the face with it. "Dangsin-i daleun eon-eoleul malhal su-issneun yuilhan salam-i anibnida."

I shook my head and said, "I have no clue what you just said."

Magnus turned on his side and stretched his arm over me, wrinkling his nose. "Good. Boys are cuter when you don't know what the hell they're talking about." He ran his long, tan fingers through my hair and said, "Would you like your real present now?"

"Only if you want yours."

He definitely wanted his. He pulled down a narrow, flat square of wrapping paper from the top shelf on his closet and I fished a little bag with snowmen on it out of my luggage, as well as the stuffed caterpillar. He snatched it out of my hands with a wicked grin, hugged it and smelled it. I guess it smelled good by the way he sighed. The two of us sat down again. We counted to three and promised to open our presents at the same time. Magnus ripped the bag open and pulled out a box containing his Datejust Rolex watch with 'For My Magnus' engraved on the back.

He was staring at it blankly as I tore the paper off my own present, revealing a canvas.

For a moment I thought I was staring at a photograph. The colours were so clear and vivid, and yet it was plain to see the brush strokes. Every detail was considered, no effort was spared. He had recreated another picture, this time of the two of us, standing inside the Eiffel Tower. My arm was hooked over his shoulders and I was kissing him on the cheek while he pretended to faint with a rose in his hand. The same picture was the background on my phone.

"Magnus - "

Suddenly he grabbed the picture. "I'm so stupid," he said gruffly. "I should have gotten you something nice, I just... Fuck."

I looked up and saw that all the blood had drained from his face. He was holding the watch like it was pulverizing the bones in his hand. "Magnus - "

He shook his head. "You got me a fucking Rolex, Alec. And all I gave you was a shit drawing."

"It's not shit," I said. There were tears swimming in my eyes. I tried to will them away because I absolutely hated crying. "It's beautiful. It's a million times better than what I got you."

"How - "

"My family basically owns Rolex. I got that for almost nothing. The engraving on the back cost more than the watch. Honestly. I got Jay one too, if he'll take it. But you... You made this. And it's gorgeous." I wiped my face, feeling like a loser for crying. Peanut Jesus, I was getting emotional. "I love you."

Magnus slowly opened the Rolex box, running his fingers over it reverently. He found the engraving and then sucked in a breath. "My Magnus," he said. "You lovely rich bastard."

I grinned and took my painting back. "You wonderfully talented prick."

"I'll prick you one."

"Pretty sure you already have. Several times. Vigorously."

We kissed for a few minutes, ending up lying down again, the Rolex and the painting ignored. We didn't have sex again, but there was a lot of grouping and keening to be had, until I finally fell asleep. Magnus might have fallen asleep as well, but when I woke up two hours later he was gone and the house smelled like ham and scalloped potatoes. After dinner, we baked shortbread that I nearly burned and watched The Grinch Who Stole Christmas with Jay. Through all of it, I had completely forgotten about the cabbie and the autograph. It wasn't until Jay went to check his Farmville account that he saw my name on the AOL homepage.

"Alec Lightwood home for the holidays and signing autographs for fans in Brooklyn."

Not thirty seconds had passed since he read the headline when my mom called, freaking out that I'd taken an early flight. I sighed when she hung up, steaming but agreeing that I could spend the night snowed in at Magnus's.

Magnus, as it so happens, was snickering at my misfortune like the rat he was.

"You owe me," I said gruffly, glaring at stupid Jim Carrey in his stupid furry green suit.

He put his arm around me and kissed my cheek. "How about I buy you lunch tomorrow? We can get sandwiches at that deli you like."

"Okay," I agreed. "But you're paying."

The End

And that was a scene from the end of Sandwich Boy. :D