So this has some slight smut in it, not really too explicate per-say but just in case I'm warning you.
Ah. And for those of you who might not know what this story entails... THIS IS A BOYXBOY STORY! SO FOR THOSE OF YOU WHO DO NOT ENJOY THAT PARTICULAR THING, I ADVISE YOU TO TURN BACK NOW!
With that said please leave a comment and tell me what you think!
;3
~TMTMFD
"...And it's no picnic being different. You want to know what it's like when your parents are good churchgoing folk and you happen to be born with the devil's mark?" He pointed at his eyes, fingers splayed. "When your father flinches at the sight of you and your mother hangs herself in the barn, driven mad by what she's done? When I was ten, my father tried to drown me in the creek. I lashed out at him with everything I had -burned him where he stood. I went to the fathers of the church eventually, for sanctuary. They hid me. They say pity's a bitter thing, but it's better than hate. When I found out that I was really, only half a human being, I hated myself. Anything's better than that..."
~Magnus Bane, City of Bones page 231~
It was not a rare occurrence for Magnus Bane, High Warlock of Brooklyn to wish he was never alive... To hate what he was born to be. In fact, it was almost natural to look in the mirror and loath what he saw staring back at him.
His eyes were what he hated the most; what set him apart from others... What marked him as an outcast; a spawn of demon. The smooth expanse of his stomach was another reminder of what he was; who he was. He hated it all.
The extravagant clothes and the ridiculously eye-catching make-up were what kept him sane; because with it, he could almost imagine, almost believe, that the reason people stared at him, whispers upon their lips as they turned to their companions, were because of said clothing and make-up. Not because of his power or his eyes or his heritage. ...But one could only imagine so long before reality comes crashing back down.
Magnus Bane hated himself. He hated his eyes, his nonexistent belly button and the way everyone used him for his power. He hated it all, every last part of it. Or at least he had, right up until that blue-eyed black-haired beauty showed up on his doorstep in a sweatshirt and jeans, that, Magnus thought, though they hadn't been as tight as he would have liked, they had definitely showed enough to make his mouth water.
From the first look Magnus could tell that Alec Lightwood was not like his companions. While the pale-haired golden-eyed one -Jace as he now knew- had been demanding and arrogant, Alec had been soft spoken and honest. Magnus could tell the moment that the young Shadowhunter's eyes met his with honesty and curiosity plain in his eyes that Alec Lightwood was a noble and often times overshadowed, by the way Jace had ordered him around, young boy.
And he had had Magnus intrigued the moment their eyes met.
As their relationship had slowly escalated from teasing remarks to laughing conversations, to soft smiles and gentle kisses, to lust filled gazes and mouthwatering expressions, and to hot nights and secretive smirks; Magnus had found himself taking comfort in the boy and his whispered words that positively made his heart melt.
His eyes that Magnus had hated so much, Alec couldn't help but stare at. When questioned with hidden fears that the young Shadowhunter found him revolting, Alec had whispered gently whilst holding him close, "I love your eyes Mags. They're beautiful. Just like you."
The smooth expanse of his tanned skin, the Warlock learned, was one of Alec's favorite things. When they laid in bed together he would often find the boy's fingers tracing his chest and stomach. When they went out he would find himself the victim to gentle kisses on his neck and face that made his heart flutter like never before. And when they were at a party and Alec noticed the fluttering winks and suggestive looks aimed his way, Magnus would often find himself shoved against a wall or counter, possibly even a couch -what ever was near by really- hot lips smashing into his own and a pale tongue writhing against his mouth in a way that left him utterly breathless and aroused as pale hands worked their way over his exposed stomach. Needless to say it almost always -unless he was in a teasing mood- ended with a shouted, "EVERYONE GET OUT!"
His powers, as he quickly found out, intrigued his Shadowhunter, and he often found himself answering a random question or two about the basics of magic and just how he was able to control it. When the Warlock had asked why Alec was so interested he had simply shrugged saying with a faint blush that, "It's a part of you, just like how being a Shadowhunter is a part of me. I just wanted to know more about what makes you, you." Magnus couldn't believe how hard this boy could make him fall.
Magnus Bane, High Warlock of Brooklyn, hated himself. He hated his eyes, his nonexistent belly button and the way everyone used him for power. He hated that he was different, a spawn of demon and he hated how that was all anyone ever saw in him; however, with his young Shadowhunter by his side he found a new feeling towards himself besides hate. In a way he was almost grateful towards his demon side for allowing him to live this long and to meet this amazingly wonderful person. For allowing him, a man who had lived for over 800 years and who in those years had killed and sinned countless times before, to meet his angel and to be reborn.
For with Alec he was indeed reborn. It was through Alec's soft blue eyes that he was able to see the world again. That he was able to enjoy the trees and the grass and the air that filled his lungs. That he was able to truly open his eyes and see through the lens of self pity and hate that had clouded his gaze before.
It was through Alec's soft breaths that Magnus was able to breath easily, without the burden of immortality baring down on him, without the cold wall of hate constricting his chest in its tight grip.
And it was though the noises of the boy below, the breathless cries and the growled moans of ecstasy, that Magnus was truly able to live again. It was seeing the young Shadowhunter below him, skin flushed and face clenched with his head thrown back in pleasure, dark strands of soft ebony hair plastered to his neck and temples with sweat, that allowed the Warlock to fully feel the fire running through his veins and the way his heart pounded and clenched in awe of the creature below him; so beautiful and angel-like that sometimes Magnus wondered if he was nothing more than a dream; another imagined illusion. But then Alec would arch up into him, hands clawing at his back in pleasure as his head rested in the crook of his neck, breathless moans and panting breaths sounding in Magnus' ears, letting him know as he peppered the sweaty scared skin of his Shadowhunter's neck and shoulder with open mouthed kisses, that no this wasn't a dream. That this angel below him, withering in pleasure was his and his alone; ...and that he would never let him go. And as the black-haired blue-eyed boy cried out his name in full blown ecstasy, his pale fingers searching for his own, and as Magnus twined his fingers with his angel's, his mouth pressed against the pale expanse of his lover's neck, a muted cry of his name leaving the Warlock's lips as he bucked his hips and lost himself to the pleasure, he knew that he could never match what the Shadowhunter gave him. But as he collapsed on the bed, his black-haired blue-eyed beauty in his arms, he thought-
"Magnus?" Alec whispered, fingers tracing circles on the smooth expanse of his slightly sweaty tanned stomach.
The Warlock's slited green eyes closed half way, a contented purr rising from his chest as he stroked the damp strands of his lover's hair. "Yes, love?"
"I love you."
It was nothing but a breathless whisper, spoken just on the brink of sleep, but it made Magnus' heart race all the same. He smiled gently at the peaceful form of his Shadowhunter, pressing his lips against his slightly damp temple as he closed his eyes in contentment. "I love you too, darling."
-That even though he may never be able to give Alec what the boy had already given him... He would danm well try. And though the Warlock didn't realize it, that was good enough for Alec.
"...There was silence when Magnus was done speaking. To Clary's surprise, it was Alec who broke it. "It wasn't your fault," he said. "You can't help how you're born..."
~Alec Lightwood, City of Bones page 231~