So I was going through the MI database, and realized that while a lot of people have done this scene, I haven't seen any from Magnus' point of view. Although, maybe I'm wrong. But I felt compelled to try and show his view of the situation. and ya.
Disclaimer: I tried to invent my own gay couple once. They weren't nearly as amazing as these two. Cassandra Clare owns all.
Magnus Bane stood at the edge of the crowd, trying not to hope against hope that the dark haired boy of his dreams would walk towards him. But he knew he wouldn't. Not here in a room full of Clave members and Downworlders. And he didn't blame him. Maybe. All he knew was that he wanted Alec Lightwood to choose him over anyone else in the room.
He hated pretending. He hated it more than bad style and fake tans. But he would pretend forever, as long as Alec still stayed around long enough for a few stolen kisses between his fake crush and his job.
Magnus Bane knew that Alec would never walk up to him in the Accords Hall and ask him to do anything with him.
And that is why he was so shocked when Alexander Lightwood did exactly that.
Alec was weaving through the crowd towards him, looking determined. In fact, the only time Magnus had ever seen Alec like this had been when Clary had drawn the Fearless rune on him, but before Magnus could really wonder if another had been drawn on him, his dark haired boy stood before him. "Will you be my partner?" Alecs' eyes were a clear blue, and they were shining with determination, confidence, and… something else. And he knew that there was no rune. Alec was choosing to do this because he wanted to. There was a flutter in his stomach as he thought that maybe things weren't as hopeless after all. Magnus could only nod, and wonder if maybe, just maybe there had been more to the question than met the eye.
Alec smiled before ever so gently taking Magnus' hand in his own and bending his head down to draw the intricate—and yet somehow, simple—rune on his wrist. The stele burned, as though Alec was using a zippo instead. To distract himself, Magnus stared intently at Alec, memorizing how his hair fell in his eyes as he drew, and how he held the stele as though it was an extension of his arm. Magnus knew, even if Alec couldn't—or wouldn't—realize it, that he was amazing at what he did. It was just that someone always showed him up at everything, always took that simple thing from him. But Magnus knew, and one day, he would make sure Alec knew. There was definitely something in how the boy moved, something that just seemed so… at ease. As Alec finished, he looked up at Magnus, and there was still something in his gaze that gave Magnus shivers, shivers he was sure Alec felt, as he was still holding his hand.
Wait. He couldn't be looking at Magnus how he thought he was…. Could he?
Alec moved on to his own wrist, drawing the same rune that now adorned Magnus' wrist, joining the legion of black tattoos that covered his skin. His wrist was shaking from the burning sensation of the stele, and Magnus almost reached up to steady it for him, but then, Alec finished.
There was a rushing noise in his ears, and it reminded him of that day on the river, where they took down Valentines boat, and he took some of this boys strength in order to keep the boat unprotected. Alec looked at him, and Magnus knew that he felt the exact same thing.
In the moment where their eyes were connected and their powers shared, it seemed as though an age of conversation passed between them, and Magnus knew. He knew that Alec had finally chosen him, over Jace, and over his fear of his parents, of the Clave, and therefore, over the risk of having his marks stripped.
He had chosen something that no one in the past 800 years of his life had ever chosen.
Magnus Bane was so wrapped up in these feelings that he didn't realize Alec had leaned in, wrapped his arms around his neck like Magnus had done to him before, and kissed him before the entire Clave, until their lips touched.
The kiss said everything that the look had said, and more. Neither boy noticed the whispers of shock and scandal, and even if they had neither would have cared.
