Disclaimer: The lovely Shadowhunters and Downworlders belong not to me, but to the magnificent Cassandra Clare.
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"Magnus?" In the silent, heavy darkness of the empty building, Alec's soft voice was unnaturally loud.
His cerulean eyes, shining like blue jewels in the flickering lights scattered across the horizon of Brooklyn outside the window, skimmed across the dark room carefully. When he found nothing, a bout of disappointment surged through him, flushing his pale cheeks with pink defeat.
"Dammit," he muttered as he turned back to the open door, scowling in his effort to shove down the feelings of betrayal.
Magnus had promised over the phone that he would be ready and waiting for the Shadowhunter by seven o' clock. It was now seven-fifteen, and Magnus's room was empty, devoid of the flamboyant warlock himself.
The shine in Alec's eyes abruptly disappeared. Followed by the sensation of butterflies in his stomach he developed whenever visiting his lover's home. Anger and rare disbelief flashed across his features in an uncharacteristic moment of hatred and defeat. Not hatred toward the warlock, no, but more toward himself for believing he could ever be together with him and not be rejected.
The door slammed loudly shut behind Alec as he stepped into the cold, brittle air of Brooklyn, his rough breath surging around him immediately in a cloud of crystal air. "Stupid, stupid, stupid," he murmured angrily, repeating the word until it eventually became a mantra, and then until the letters slurred and it no longer held a meaning to him.
His quick, jerking footsteps crunched poignantly in the frigid silence, creating a sort of hypnotizing beat, until Alec finally had to stop and try to shove down the feelings of defeat rising acidly in his throat. He choked and muttered, clenching his eyes shut against the tears welling unwillingly against his azure irises.
"Dammit!" he repeated vehemently, balling his fists tightly before raising them to swipe carelessly at his eyes. Despite the brushing of his gloved hand across his closed lids, though, when his eyes opened, tears instantly began streaming from them. He bit his lip to hold back more curses at himself, and leaned heavily against the brick wall of the glamoured building, scrubbing the heels of his hands over his clenched eyelids.
He finally slid to the rough, gravelly pavement below, pressing his palms defeatedly over his leaking eyes, curling his fingers uncaringly into the thick sheet of tangled hair that curled over his forehead. His mouth pulled down into a scowl, and he had the sudden, absurd thought that he must have looked like the utter picture of pitiful disgrace.
The thought pushed a forced, hoarse laugh from his throat. As soon as it passed, though, more tranparent tracks were flooding down his cheeks, covering the dark streets of Brooklyn with a milky veil.
Alec was being a baby, and he full well knew it. But he just couldn't bring himself to care. Because he also knew that he was suffering from Magnus withdrawal, after being torn from the warlock during a trip with Jace, Isabelle and Clary to capture a murderous fae residing undercover in Alicante for nearly two months.
The battle had been brutal, blood-washed, and victorious. Although Alec had returned home with a shattered hand, which had been in a cast for almost an entire month, and Jace had snapped several bones in his leg, ankle, and foot.
Alec, being the expectant puppy he is, had expected a chiding, worried visit from Magnus as soon as they returned home, clucking at him over obtaining such injuries, and then talking him into another night at his own house...
Alec shook his head to clear the thoughts away, and his shoulders were instantly speckled with dark spots from the water that had been whipped from his flushed cheeks.
Sighing, the young Shadowhunter pulled his knees up to his chest and rested his mouth on his knees, closing his eyes as he pressed them to the worn fabric of his faded blue jeans. He wrapped his hands around his upper calves, lacing his fingers together to hold them together. Tears soaked the rough fabric of his jean knees.
Just as he turned his face to bury his nose in the warm, dark, familiar material of his coat sleeve, something icy brushed tenderly across the back of his neck, and a velvety voice hummed against his cheek, "Miss me?"
Alec's head jerked up, sending dark hair and water whipping in every direction. "Magnus?" he asked slowly as he caught sight of something sparkly and tight flashing beneath a long black pea coat.
There was a rich, throaty laugh, and then Magnus leaned down, putting his smirking face level with the Shadowhunter's. He finally seemed to notice Alec's expression. "Darling? What's wrong?" Despite the everpresent gleam in his gold-green cat eyes, his expression melted from amusement to concern, and he slid one slim hand around Alec's neck, to cup his other cheek, forcing the Shadowhunter to meet his steady gaze.
"Nothing," Alec murmured, batting away Magnus's stroking fingertips, despite the pleasant shocks it sent shooting down his spine. "I'm fine."
Magnus's slim, kempt eyebrows piqued with amused interest. "Oh?" he murmured softly, lifting a single ring-clad finger to swipe it across Alec's flushed cheek. "Then what's this?"
He presented a-top his flawlessly manicured fingertip the small bead of liquid that he had collected from Alec's stained cheek. The Shadowhunter's face heated with his brilliant blush, and he lifted his arm to swipe away the other absent tears with rough abandon.
"Nothing," he repeated vehemently, turning his face to hide it from the curious warlock's probing eyes.
When he finally spoke, Magnus's voice was soft and tender, devoid of the usual clever seduction. "Alec, love, please tell me what's wrong. You know I hate to see you cry, especially when you won't let me help." He held up both hands in mute surrender when Alec turned one suspicious cerulean eye on him.
Exhaling deeply, Alec finally turned to face Magnus, though his eyes were cast downward to where his feet rested against the edge of the glamoured building. The tears had thankfully stopped leaking from his eyes, shot through with red, but tranlucent tracks still stained his flushed cheeks. "I... I thought you were avoiding me. Or you forgot about me. Something absurd and pathetic, as usual."
Magnus slid his soft, feminine hand from cupping Alec's cheek down to his chin, where his fingers gently began stroking the light stubble sprinkled across his jaw. "Alexander, you know you're not absurd or pathetic, so stop trying to convince yourself of it." He scooted closer, the rhinestones decorating the hem of his pea coat scraping loudly against the cement beneath him. "And even if you were, I would still love you with all I've got." He slid his warm hand down even further, causing Alec to shudder and laugh breathlessly when it slid beneath the collar of his everpresent black-knit sweater, where Magnus used his gold-painted fingernails to lightly scratch the muscles of his chest.
Alec jerked and fell forward slightly when Magnus's expert fingers twisted his tight nub roughly, only to draw back and continue stroking. "Shit, Mag!" he gasped hoarsely, shivering again, though this time not from the cold.
Magnus grinned. It was a predatory type of grin, the kind a panther wore when stalking his prey stealthily through the overgrown grass of the jungle.
"You're so cute," the warlock hummed, leaning forward to stroke his nose along the length of Alec's stubbled jaw. "So adorable..." Now he trailed his experimenting fingers even lower, tracing his fingertips along every familiar muscle etched into the Shadowhunter's lean stomach. "So sexy." And then his fingers dipped into the waistband of Alec's jeans, just an inch beneath the top, but it was still enough to make Alec jerk forward and nearly scream.
"God, Magnus," he gasped with some effort, clenching his eyes shut as his fingers curled achingly into the rough stone of the wall behind him.
Magnus's hand, which had began descending dangerously low, suddenly retracted, his fingers moving to lace with Alec's - well, the ones not nearly ripping the poor wall in half.
"Yes, darling?" His voice was a calm, steady purr, alerting Alec to the fact that he was enjoying torturing him way too much to be healthy. "Is something wrong?"
Alec surprised himself by suddenly letting out a furious growl and lunging to his feet. Magnus's green-gold cat eyes widened considerably, and Alec had to force down the pride rising in his throat to keep up his raging facade.
"Oh, I'm going to get you for that." Alec's low voice was husky and dangerous. Magnus's expression of curiousity quickly faded into the familiar seductive smile as he also stood, towering over his lover.
"Oh, I hope so," he hissed, lifting a single finger and bending it toward himself in a come-hither gesture.
With a smile that flashed like lethal diamonds, Magnus disappeared quickly into his home, melting fluidly into the shadows along the walls, Alec hot on his trail.
The door clicked shut behind the pair, and, with a final, satisfying snap, the lock slid into place, swallowing Magnus's seductive giggles and Alec's purrs of pleasure.