They say my lover is strange, but I don't have to fucking tell them anything.

The night's battle weighed heavy on the older Lightwood, Magnus could tell, just by the way he dragged his feet, not even bothering to strip off his dirty clothes as he laid face down on the bed. Cuts and bruises covered his body, but one wound looked worse than he let on. The demon had caught him on his left arm, slicing it open fairly deep. Magnus wanted to protest to him laying down, but he knew Alec would never listen, not when sleep was so close to his grasp. He was fairly certain that he had a few broken ribs too, but Alec never once showed any signs of pain. He went to working on his arm, stitching it up after he numbed the area. It took a total of 72 stitches to pull the skin together and Alec never moved from his spot on the bed, barely flinching. Magnus wrapped his arm in a cotton bandage, securing it with a couple pieces of medical tape.

Why was he always patching up the older Lightwood? Because Alexander was a warrior, a soldier, and cuts and bruises were a part of that resume that came with the job description. Even if Magnus hated it. He hated how they were stuck on Earth, fighting off demons that were sent to kill ever shadow hunters and mundanes alike. Alec lifted his chest off the bed, wincing slightly. His gaze lingered on Magnus, before he smiled softly. "Is this how it's always gonna be?"

"Probably." Magnus shrugged.

They fell into silence, both of them keeping their own secrets of what they'd suffered in the other's absence. What they always suffered in each other's absence. Every time Magnus died, Alec was left to roam the earth until he found him again. And it was tiresome. Every time, more guilt piled onto of the guilt that had already been there, suffocating Alec to a point where he wished for death on the loneliest of nights. He wondered if they were trying to protect each other or simply didn't want to admit to their own fears and weaknesses. Slowly Magnus watched him, and then he bent down, planting his lips on his. The kiss was unexpected—deep and forceful. Stunned, he just sat there as he pulled back, nipping at his bottom lip.

Magnus wasted no time in crashing his lips into his. He continue kissing him with that ferocity, so much so that his lips lightly scraped Alec's teeth. It was only a few drops, but as the sweet metallic taste of his blood touched his tongue, a blinding ecstasy flooded his body. And then he shifted and rolled. Alec was on his back, and Magnus was still on the move. His face burrowed into the space between his neck and shoulder, nuzzling. Sweet baby Jesus...Warm breath danced over Alec's skin, sending shivers down his spine. His arm was heavy against his stomach, his leg between his, pushing up and up. Scorched air fled Alec's lungs.

His hand was on the edge of the borrowed shirt, his long fingers on the strip of exposed flesh between the hem on the shirt and the band of the black jeans. Magnus's hand inched up under the shirt, across Alec's stomach, where it dipped slightly. Alec's pulse went into cardiac territory. The tips of his fingers brushed his ribs, gently confirming that he had broken a few ribs before his body moved again, his knee pressed against him once more. When he spoke, there was an odd vulnerability to Alec's deep voice. As if he were letting him peek inside one of the dark chambers of the heart he seemed so sure he didn't possess.

"Can you stay... with me tonight?" He asked, taking Magnus's hand, intertwining their fingers. The sudden vulnerability to his lover shocked Magnus. Usually, Alec was calm, collected and void of feelings for the most part. Magnus was gazing down at Alec, and his eyes were endless, deep pools of pleading and fire and barely restrained something or other, and they were magnetic, like black holes, but full of flames, and yet gray, and yet full of colors and see-through and dancing with little flecks of glitter, and he couldn't look away, and what pretty eyelashes he had, as long and dark as a woman's, as a kitten's, as a panther's, and the smell, oh, the smell, like crushed heather and berries and springtime in the morning and bodies rolling over and over in the grass and everything covered with dew like cobwebs making mandalas of raindrops, and he couldn't stand it, couldn't hold back for one more second...

Magnus crashed his lips back into Alec's, confirming Alec's hopes.