Disclaimer: No copyright intended. Mature scenes.
Written for a very dear friend of mine.
The old wooden box felt awkward in his hands as Alec tugged it from the shelf, the golden ladder he stood upon wobbling under the effort. Why did they have to keep something so ridiculously heavy all the way up here, wedged between a set of dusty scrolls and confiscated trinkets from the Downworld market? It made more sense to have an object like this readily accessible, not shoved so far out of reach that you could slay an entire troop of demons in the time it took just to ease it down the ladder. Alec wasn't in the business of complaining—especially when it came to pulling his own weight—but Jace's idea of training was turning out to be more like slave labor than the good time he was promised.
"What's taking so long?" his rueful Parabatai huffed from the library desk.
Alec sighed. "Maybe if you actually put some effort into helping me, we'd be done by now."
There was a sharp noise—the tip of a dagger being forced into Hodge's old desk, Alec guessed—and then a slight groan as Jace rose from the chair. "The things I do for you," Jace mumbled, and steadied the ladder as Alec finished his descent.
"Hey, this was your idea," he said, purposely brushing against Jace's shoulder to show his irritation. "I was perfectly fine alone in my room until you showed up."
"You were brooding," smirked Jace. "And don't tell me you weren't because you didn't even say a word at dinner."
"I had a headache," said Alec as he carried the obtuse box out of the library without looking back at his brother. He could hear Jace's quick footsteps behind him, echoing down the stone corridor like they were sealed inside a cavernous space where everything reverberated back at you; he'd never noticed how serene and yet how loud the Institute could be, not until now. "What's in this box anyway?" he added, hoping to change the subject. Discussing his feelings with Jace wasn't exactly what he'd had in mind when he'd agreed to train tonight.
"Trust me," chuckled Jace in that dry, sarcastic way Alec was used to. "You're going to need it." A pause in the conversation ensued—one that gave Alec cause to believe his Parabatai was coming up with either a grandiose explanation or a cocky comeback. Unfortunately, it was the latter as Jace suddenly spat out, "You do realize Isabelle's cooking tastes like old gym socks wrapped in cardboard, right?" Alec stopped just shy of the training room, turning around with a puzzled expression. "I knew it!" Jace carried on, "You've been moping around here like a lost puppy for weeks now, and you don't even care you've been poisoned. I'm surprised you're still alive."
"What's that supposed to mean?" growled Alec, heat blazing in his cheeks.
Jace's lips curled into a tight smirk. "When you don't notice that Isabelle's chicken dumplings are more like chicken funklings, we have a problem. We've all been taking bets on how long you'll last before we have to call the Silent Brothers to bring you back from the dead."
"It's not that bad," he mumbled under his breath, receiving a look of complete shock from Jace. What was he saying? Isabelle's cooking could kill a Greater Demon by the smell alone. Had he really been that oblivious to what he was ingesting recently? And more importantly, was she starting to believe he actually enjoyed it? "Okay," Alec sighed, and pushed open the training room door with his shoulder, "Those dumplings were as hard as rocks, but it still doesn't prove that I was moping. Now, can we get down to training, or are you going to mock me all night?"
Jace laughed and pointed to the long table that sat against the wall, where Alec promptly dropped the intricate box and turned around to face his brother with hardened, blue eyes. "Don't get so defensive, lover boy," muttered Jace, his hands outstretched as though he thought Alec might smack him. For the slightest moment, Alec almost did. "I promised I'd make this worth your while and I never go back on my word."
It was Alec's turn to huff this time as he unclasped the golden latch on the box and turned away from Jace. "So far, all you've given me is a sore back," he argued, beginning to sift through unrecognizable contents that looked more demon-like than anything else. "What is all this stuff?"
"Don't you read?" Jace smirked again as he pulled out a purple, diamond-shaped throwing knife from within the box. "It's a Shemhook." Alec blinked a few times, the name not registering any bells. "A warlock blade?" sighed Jace, a look of smugness on his face. "Codex 101, brother."
"You're making this up," grunted Alec, and rustled through the rest of the box, finding smaller pieces of the same purple metal scattered throughout. He'd read that codex from front to back multiple times, and had never come across any mention of Shemhooks. "And why are we handling warlock stuff anyway?"
"Actually, he's not. I am." The familiar voice of Magnus Bane sliced through the air like a welcome breeze on a hot summer's day. Alec's heart immediately sped up, his palms sweaty as he froze in place. Was it possible? Was he just hearing things? "What? You don't have a hello for your boyfriend?" chuckled Magnus in the wake of Alec's surprise.
"H-Hello," he finally managed to stutter out, doing his best not to turn around so quickly that both he and Jace went tumbling onto the training room floor.
Magnus had always been the kind of person to dress in such flamboyant clothing that it was hard not to compare him to a royal courtier with a penchant for glamour and design. Everything he touched seemed to sparkle, like the shimmering rings on his fingers or the silver glitter decorating his bronzed cheeks. There was a slight feminine undertone to the way his cat-like eyes seductively followed Alec whenever they were in the same room together, sleek and alluring and framed with deep black liner, like something from an Egyptian mural. He supposed that was what made the green-gold hue stand out—a finesse that only Magnus could portray and still retain the unwavering masculinity that Alec was drawn to.
Tonight, he was surprisingly dressed in mostly all black—tight leather pants, and a silver dragon wrapping around his chest up to the collar of his shirt, where several buttons had been strategically left undone and showed a glint of Magnus' smooth skin beneath. His hair stood in tall, black spikes, and each one had a tint of blue flashing at the tips. Even his nails had a touch of black glitter and as Magnus took a wide step into the room, Alec could have sworn he saw fireflies buzzing around the numerous rings on his fingers. "Magic," Alec mumbled to himself, so quietly that he wasn't sure his lips had actually moved.
"What was that?" asked Magnus as he strode toward the table, his feet barely making a sound against the stone tiled floor.
"I believe he said, 'Oh em gee! What is my boyfriend doing here?'" Jace snickered.
Alec scowled and tried not to let his cheeks warm under the pressure. "I don't talk like that," he snapped. But that was the very question on his mind.
Alec had not seen Magnus for several weeks, not since his mother had banned contact with the warlock after all hell broke loose in Idris. The Inquisitor was insistent that Shadowhunters not frolick with Downworlders until Sebastian was found—a cause that would be better served with Magnus' help. They'd stayed in touch via fire messages and secret late night phone calls, even a whispered word from the Institute door when no one was looking—like teenagers, Magnus had remarked on several occasions. Magnus had also managed to project himself into Alec's bedroom one evening, but that was interrupted by Isabelle, who had come crying about Simon and their lack of cuddling, much to Alec's dismay and complete embarrassment. He'd waved Magnus away that night and had gone to bed alone, like he had done for the past twenty-one days. His queen-sized bed was feeling very big without that familiar, warm body to cuddle next to.
And now he was here, standing before Alec like everything was the way it used to be, when Magnus would roam the Institute hallways with Church on his heels and press his nose into one of the library books as though he'd never seen a printed word before. Alec could even smell the tantalizing aroma of sandalwood filling the room—a scent that would always remind him of his boyfriend.
"Well, now that we've confirmed Alec is not a twelve-year-old girl from the valley, can we please get down to business?" said Magnus with an amused tone.
Alec felt the corners of his lips twitch into a smile; it was beyond relieving to have Magnus this close, even if he was still a tad confused. "I'm sorry," mumbled Alec, and dropped the pieces of purple Shemhook back into the box. "It's not that I'm not happy to see you, Magnus," Because I am unbelievably happy, excited, giddy, and I'm bursting inside just needing to feel your body against me, he wanted to add, but didn't for fear of Jace's assumed snide remarks, "But…what are you doing here?"
"Training," Magnus said flatly, throwing Jace one of those can-you-give-us-privacy looks.
Alec glanced between the two, his eyebrows raised in both confusion and further surprise. "Come again?" he laughed.
An amused look crossed Magnus' face, one that Alec recognized whenever his boyfriend's mind went in a southerly direction. Under the usual circumstances, this would be the time where Alec would issue some sort of groan or blush or comeback to prevent the situation from becoming awkward, but he let this one go. Having Magnus mere inches from his fingertips was clouding his mind.
"I promised you training," Jace uttered, starting to recede from the room, his fingers wriggling in the air. "I didn't say with who. You can thank me later." And with that, the doors closed, leaving Alec alone with Magnus for the first time in what felt like an eternity.
Magnus had arrived at the Institute at precisely seven-thirty, as instructed by Jace's fire message. He was rather beside himself with the thought of seeing Alec; the passing weeks had been torture to his soul, and even Chairman Meow had grown sullen without the Shadowhunter's presence. Alec's absence had left a great void in the apartment—as well as his daily life—so it was no wonder he'd gone to the extreme lengths of acting like a lovesick teenager to get just the slightest glimpse of the boy.
The Inquisitor could sit and spin as far as Magnus was concerned; he was eight hundred years old—give or take a few years—and had never been one to do as he was told. However, with the Shadow World in chaos as it was, keeping peace with the Clave was in both of their best interests. So when Jace had set up this cozy little encounter, Magnus had jumped at the chance. Maryse was in Idris looking for Robert, and Isabelle had snuck out to Taki's to talk to Simon. It would just be the two of them, or so Jace had promised. Magnus had only a sliver of doubt to Jace's reasoning behind this, but when it came down to his Parabatai's happiness, there wasn't anything that Jace wouldn't do to keep Alec's spirits high. Magnus would have to thank him in great length at a later date.
Now, he was alone in the training room with Alec staring him down in disbelief. He had missed those eyes—so blue that Magnus could actually envision rolling ocean waves within them, or a limitless blue sky that stretched on for miles. They were his serenity, a peace that only those eyes could bring to him. He'd been with all types of men and women, demons and Fair Folk, even a Mundane or two, but never before had someone taken his heart like the boy shifting his weight nervously a few steps away. Magnus had watched his lovers perish over time; his first love had died right in his arms and he had mourned her death for centuries. But this time it was different. Alec was different. Their separation had only strengthened Magnus' resolve. There would be no one after Alexander Lightwood, and he wondered for a moment—as he took in the boy's appearance, the sleeveless black shirt, the runes etched on his fair skin, and the way his pants had a tiny rip across the left knee—if he actually knew how much Magnus loved him. For Alec, this was his first relationship, and what a whirlwind it had been for them both. For Magnus, he had lived countless lives, had countless relationships, and knew when to hold onto the one thing in this world that made everything worthwhile. He had never been in love like this; he never thought it possible. And yet here they were, together, in a world where everything was death and destruction and true love had happened right in the thick of it. You didn't just throw something like that away.
"What?" mumbled Alec, breaking Magnus' concentration. Magnus gazed up in a haze. "You're staring," added Alec, scuffing his foot on the floor as blush finally rose in his cheeks. Magnus adored that blush.
"Forgive me. It's just been—"
"A while, I know," said Alec, finishing his sentence. "I've missed you. I've missed us." And then Alec threw himself into Magnus' arms.
Magnus caught Alec perfectly; he always would. Alec fit snugly against his firm body, and just a few inches shorter than Magnus, his head rested softly against Magnus' shoulder, like they were meant to hold each other. Magnus thought the boy was trembling, so he secured his arms around the Shadowhunter's body as if to protect him, his lips drifting through strands of Alec's black hair and breathing in his comforting scent. How he had missed moments like this. The effect was instantaneous—the slowing of Magnus' warlock heart, the weight lifted from his shoulders, the way his skin hummed and buzzed with runaway sparks of electric heat and magic. It was all due to Alec; he inspired things that no other could hope to attain. "I've missed you too, Alexander," whispered Magnus, and tightened his hold further, unwilling to be parted, "I think I've gone off glitter because of it."
There was a soft smack against his chest that made Magnus smile. "Don't lie," muttered Alec. "I see glitter on your cheeks."
"Yes, well, now it's in your hair," chuckled Magnus as Alec made a slight sound of protest and looked up, his crystal blue eyes reaching Magnus within moments.
"Leave it there. I like it," he said, smiling at Magnus with lips so soft he couldn't help but place a gentle kiss upon them. "What are you doing here?" Alec mumbled again, his tongue running over Magnus' bottom lip, making him shiver.
"I told you, I'm here to train you." Magnus drew back from his lover and smiled coyly, licking the taste of Alec's tongue from his lips. "But I'm not sure if you can keep up. You seem quite distracted, Mr. Lightwood."
Alec huffed in jest and was beside the open box in seconds, pulling out one of the purple blades. "A Shemhook, huh?" he chuckled. "I can handle you, Mr. Bane."
Magnus rolled his eyes and pulled another blade from the box. "Don't believe everything Jace tells you. A Shemhook is slang for sheep herder. This…" Magnus twirled the blade in his hands, "This is what Nephilim armor looks like before the Iron Sisters get their hands on it. We have no name for the metal, but it can kill a warlock without delivering a fatal blow."
Alec's eyes practically bulged out of his head and he took a step back, almost afraid. "You're not suggesting that I attack you with something that could potentially kill you, are you?"
"I am suggesting you can try," smirked Magnus, and crouched low to the stone ground, "But I would very much prefer not to die tonight, Alexander, as I have a date. So don't try too hard."
If Magnus thought Alec's eyes couldn't get any wider, he was dead wrong. The look that swept across Alec's face was a mixture of anger and disbelief, and before Magnus could attempt to remedy the confusion—that his date was indeed Alec himself—Alec was on him. The blade came within inches of Magnus' rather expensive and somewhat overly fit shirt just before he managed to lunge to the side. Alec was a pro at whatever weapon graced his hands, but the bow and arrow would always be the deadliest choice. These blades were new to him, and Magnus knew he could outmaneuver the boy for a few more minutes before he got used to the cool metal.
"You will have to do better than that," jested Magnus, leaping onto the table and knocking the box onto the floor in his attempt to escape one of the bravest Shadowhunters he'd ever known.
A wry smile fell on Alec's lips and he kicked the table over in one sweeping blow, and then he was on Magnus again, swiping through the air as if he'd always known the touch of that blade. Quicker than I thought, Magnus mused to himself. In fact, he was so quick that before Magnus could make his next move, the blade sliced through that precious black shirt and pinned Magnus to the floor. "Or maybe you're just getting old," Alec grinned, as if he had read Magnus' thoughts.
"Old?" Magnus' eyebrows raised. "I'll show you old." Magic burst from his fingertips, the room lighting with a blue gleam as tendrils coiled up Alec's back and wrapped around his body with a gentle caress. The blade dropped from Alec's hand and plinked against the stone as a serene smile washed over his face, and he let out a soft, fleeting moan that sounded like music to Magnus' ears. "How's…that…for…old," he groaned out.
"Don't…make me…hurt you," Alec halfheartedly chuckled, his head drooping down onto Magnus' shoulder, and his hands sliding up the warlock's chest with fingertips that knew all the familiar places to touch, as if Alec had memorized every inch of his body and had longed for the feel of it.
Magnus could hardly speak as those hands fell upon him, only managing out a feeble, "Let's not be so hasty," before he was suddenly kissing him. Lightning exploded in his veins; his lips had missed Alec's so badly that they moved without permission, teeth nipping and biting while Alec sucked and nibbled, no chance or time to tell who had who, and who was being the more dominant, aggressive of the pair. He could taste the arousal in the air, practically feel it invading his every cell as he took Alec in his arms, magic shredding their clothes as if hell itself was threatening to disturb this heated reunion.
"Magnus…" The sound of his name on Alec's lips only made his body burn for more.
Warm skin pressed together, their bodies flushed and tensed and hard in all the right places. Magnus barely felt the cool tiles against his back, giving himself fully to Alec as he began to slowly rock back and forth over Magnus' hips. "Alec…" he whispered this time, and ran his hands down the curved muscles of Alec's back, each one more defined than the next. Magic followed him in ribbons of blue and teal, licking at Alec's skin like a second set of skilled fingertips. Alec released another moan, the sound of it sealing their fate as Magnus lost all willpower and pulled his boyfriend down onto his thick, throbbing length with no word of warning or foreplay to accompany the wanton need.
Alec cried out and Magnus instantly looked up, afraid that in his haste to reclaim his boyfriend he had inadvertently caused him pain, but Alec's eyes had rolled back and he was still smiling the smile that Magnus had missed so badly. "Don't…stop," Alec said, almost pleading with his words. His hands had come down around Magnus' neck and their chests were pressed together, a thin sheen of sweat gathering between them.
Heat engulfed Magnus like a wildfire blazing out of control. His eyes glazed over and as he let out a begging groan of his own, he raised his hips, fully seating himself inside Alec's firm and tight body. The pleasure that invaded his core was beyond welcoming; he had sat in his lonely apartment sulking for weeks, just longing for the feel of this moment—the time when their love felt connected, intimate, and the most stable thing in both their lives. Alec moved then, his hands gripping Magnus' shoulders in such a way that Magnus knew he would leave marks behind. And then they were kissing, completely wrapped up and consumed by one another—lips locked, bodies working in unison, hearts pounding so loudly that Magnus was sure it could be heard all the way to Idris.
Magnus' heart—the slow and steady beat that he was used to—had begun to gallop out of control, desiring Alec's touch, his body, the way he accepted and craved Magnus' aching length, as if it were the only thing anchoring him to this plane. His glittered nails grazed over Alec's back, and the two rose and fell with each thrust, each unique sensation. "Alexander…" Magnus moaned out between passionate kisses and bites that Alec seemed unable to prevent. His Shadowhunter just smiled and raised his pace, his hard cock brushing Magnus' stomach and leaving slick trails against his skin.
For a moment, Magnus was almost undone by the surmounting pleasure, the feel of being inside of Alec, the touch of his hands, and the throbbing hardness against his toned muscles. Blue glimmers of magic skittered from his fingertips and rode the length of Alec's back, making the boy shudder and cry out, Magnus' name a plea on his lips. It was an automatic response whenever he was around Alec; the magic inside of him would always have moments of reflex, of lust and surprise. Magnus couldn't control it any better than he could imagine not having Alec for centuries to come. So he let that magic pour into his lover, surrounding their naked display with heat and power and overwhelming desire.
Their bodies were indistinguishable from one another now, completely absorbed in the connection they had together. Alec's grunts and groans were rivaled only by that of Magnus and his commanding hold. A symphony of moans spilled into the training room, echoing off the adjacent walls and giving way to a burst of frantic movement as they clawed and pulled and rode their way to a blissful climax, together as it should be.
Magic exploded like fireworks across the ceiling like a brilliant rainbow canopy as Magnus came, his release followed shortly by Alec who hissed and dug his fingernails into the back of Magnus' neck, his cock twitching and spilling between them. Alec's heart was pounding; he could feel the thrum of his pulse beating hard against his chest, along with Alec's ragged breath as his lips pressed to Magnus' warm neck. Magnus had his arms around Alec now, secured and fueled by the aftermath of their orgasm. He was never letting go.
"Magnus…Angels…I needed that. Needed you," Alec cried against his neck. Magnus could feel Alec's body trembling above him. "Please…I can't be separated from you. I love you, Magnus," he mumbled between short and sharp breaths.
If there was one thing Magnus knew about mortality, it was that every single emotion felt would be enhanced tenfold, for mortals—even ones who were half angel—tended to enjoy the most of out of life and yet still treat it with neglect. Magnus was immortal, so his feelings and emotions—although just as potent—had been tamed over the centuries. But when Alexander spoke with such veracity, it made Magnus rethink his own existence. If Alec's life was destined to be a short one, full of death and despair and intolerable conditions—for that was how Magnus viewed their current circumstances against the Clave—he would make it the richest life anyone had ever lived. "I love you too, Alexander. We will find a way," said Magnus breathlessly. "Come hook or by crook."
"Say what?" Alec chuckled, relaxing against Magnus' soaked chest, his legs finally splaying out to the side as they cuddled naked on the training room floor.
"Good grief, I need to educate you. It's from a movie." Magnus' lips were curled into a smile, and he just held the boy that he loved right there, with no care as to who might walk in. Part of Magnus hoped it would be Maryse, on some random return visit, where Magnus would proudly stand naked before her—for he had zero modesty these days—and announce that he had no plans on leaving Alec's side. Perhaps he would even give up his immortality for Alexander. What would she say then? What would the Clave say? It was unheard of. But like most legendary fairytales, a sacrifice had to be made.
"I'd like that," whispered Alec as he moved to lie beside Magnus. Before his head had even touched the ground, a feathered mattress appeared, covered in glittering pillows and smooth, cool sheets. Alec grinned. "Impressive, warlock."
Magnus smiled and brushed back pieces of Alec's dark hair that clung to his sweat laced forehead. "You haven't seen anything yet, my Nephilim." Magnus paused to take in those eyes again, the way they crinkled in the corners as Alec smiled and made his dimples appear more pronounced. "I believe you can draw a stamina rune?"
Alec's hand fell on Magnus' chest as he bit his lip, blush spreading across his already flushed cheeks. "But we just—"
"That was a spontaneous act of desperation." Magnus' cat eyes lit up, a coy grin rolling over his face as he placed a finger against Alec's soft lips. "I plan on having you several times this evening, so you had better prepare yourself."
And then he brought his mouth down hard against Alec's, and kissed him as though the world was ending.