Disclaimer: Nope, don't own Mortal Instruments. Sorry.
I haven't read the books in forever but I've been slowly dragged back into the Malec ship. I got an idea for this fic and I had to deviate from the norm and write a oneshot in order to focus on anything else. I'm sorry if it turns out bad, I guess. Again, it's been a while.
SO HERE'S A RANDOM MALEC STORY, GUYS! I WROTE IT BECAUSE I HAVE NO SELF CONTROL SO I HOPE IT'S GOOD!
WHY AM I SCREAMING?! I DON'T KNOW!
Alec is a simple man with simple desires. He doesn't consider himself particularly interesting or hard to please or excessively argumentative, and he had been more than content to just let life do to him what it will. This is why he wears bland dark sweaters, doesn't bother styling his hair, and takes his coffee mostly black; why waste time with all the frivolities?
So today, like any other day, he grabs his book and heads down to this quaint little shop on the street called Manhattan Mocha. Like usual, he had managed to successfully avoid the rush hour of people and is practically alone, save for the barista.
"I'll have a large black coffee with two sugars," he instructs the disinterested college student serving his beverage. She's chewing gum and is probably new, but Alec isn't too worried because his order would be pretty hard to mess up.
"Right, what's your name?" she asks, boredly typing things into the cash register.
"Alexander," the dark haired man informs politely, and she just rolls her eyes and prints 'Al' on the cup in big bolded letters.
"That will be four dollars, sir." As he shoves the money in bills at the barista, the door flies open, and another man walks in. Alec usually isn't the type to notice things like this - he's more of a keep-to-yourself personality, and therefore is a lot less observant when it comes to strangers, but this person simply can't be overlooked, and perhaps that was the intention.
His hair, for starters, is a rich black at the roots and is stained with an absurd amount of glitter and neon at the ends, which were expertly styled into tiny spikes. There was kohl under his eyes and sparkles above them, and everything about his outfit was insanely colorful. Yet despite the business of his attire, the stranger seemed refined, somehow, and incredibly confident. Alec usually didn't go for random, beautiful (and possibly clinically insane) men that happened to waltz into coffee shops, but he couldn't stop staring like an absolute creep, so his subconscious was apparently on board for this plan.
"I want . . . a large venti with double shots of caramel, heavy on the whipped cream, with that crunchy toffee stuff on top," glitter hair said, and with a sigh, the barista painstakingly records everything.
"Your name?"
"Magnus," he says with a breathtaking smile, and Alec feels incredibly dumb for actually blushing at that. Alec is twenty six years old. He may aspire to be a recluse, but he has self control around hot guys. Glitter hair shouldn't be any different.
Magnus, his mind corrected firmly, his name is Magnus, not Glitter Hair. If so, I'd be called Old Black Sweater. He's a person, not someone for you to ogle from the corner.
He really hated his own mind, sometimes.
"Fine, whatever," the barista finally stated back, writing 'Ag' on the flimsy cup and accepting the random man's credit card.
A few minutes later, she wrung the silly little silver bell, just as unhappy to be there as before, and Alec grabbed the first of the two coffee cups without really checking which one it was. He sat in the dimly-lit booth in the corner, as far away from the street as possible, and began to read his book.
"Excuse me," comes an amused voice in a heavy drawl, accompanied by a finger tapping his shoulder. To his complete and utter shock, it's none other than Magnus, who is smiling like some sort of amazing joke has just been performed. "Sorry to bother you, but it appears that you've stolen my coffee."
"What?"
"I'm fairly sure that I didn't order sadness in a cup." Alec's face burned.
"Lots of people like black coffee."
"Lots of people don't often confuse their drinks with mine," Magnus rebuffed, raising an eyebrow. He slid into the other side of the booth, switching out their orders while he did so. "Hello, then, I'm Magnus Bane." A caramel-skinned hand is extended, and wearily, Alec shakes it, putting down his book.
"I'm Alexander Lightwood, but a lot of my friends call me Alec," he responded, then silently cringed. This interaction reminded him of his awkward high school days, and after eight years, you'd think he'd be above this. Apparently he's never grown out of his social anxiety and it's manifested itself now so he can grimace about it later.
"Pleasure to meet you, Alec," the stranger remarks, taking a slow sip of his drink. "So, what book are you reading?"
"It's a mythology novel on the legends surrounding biblical lore." Almost for emphasis, he brushes a hand across the spine. "Why?"
"Why do I care? Oh, curiosity, I guess. Maybe I just want to know more about the man who nearly walked away with my venti," Magnus waved dismissively. "Well, why do you like that book?"
"I guess it just fascinates me. The thought that angels and demons and god and damnation exist . . . it's interesting, thinking we're not so alone. It's kind of like a mystery," Alec replied sheepishly, not quite meeting Magnus' golden eyes. "That sounds really dumb, I know."
"Not at all. It's almost . . . refreshing, even." The dark-haired man looked him up and down, as if examining the rather lackluster being before him. Finally, he leaned back and said, "You know, I like you."
"Ummm . . . thanks?"
"I've got to get going, Alec, but I hope to see you again sometime," he promised, heading towards the door.
Biting his lip, the sweater-wearing man called back with, "Sorry again for taking your drink, Ag!" The previous stranger laughed in the doorway and shook his head.
"I'm glad you did, Blue Eyes!" And then he was gone, lost to the hazy gray streets of New York once more.
Alec stared at his coffee cup, tracing his thumb over the 'Al', and let out a rather embarrassing sigh.
Magnus Bane, huh?
He's there the next day, too, and he can't help but get the slightest bit excited as he orders the same thing and sits in the very back. Alec isn't stupid; he knows that there's a very slim chance that one mysterious Magnus Bane was going to come back, let alone remember him. But the prospect is there, hinging at the back of his mind, and the metaphorical seed has been planted in his brain. It's sad, the fact that he's all worked up and hopeful to see this person he only talked to for a number of minutes. Yet here he is, silently waiting like some middle school girl.
It's pathetic, he knows, but he's accepted the fact that he's a failure at social interaction. So that's that.
And actually, it's alright to get his hopes up, because Magnus arrives in a swarm of color just like before, minutes later. He sits across from Alec like this is absolutely normal and starts up a conversation like he's interested in him, even though Alec's long since known that he's just a simple man with simple tastes and he doesn't think he's all that interesting. Certainly not interesting enough for an individual like Magnus, who commands attention and respect even with his bold fashion choices.
Nevertheless, he ends up conversing with this (attractive) virtual stranger over their beverages for the next half hour, at which point an alert from his phone causes the glittery man to frown and get up.
"I'm really sorry, but I need to leave. I've got an appointment scheduled in about an hour. See you tomorrow, then?" he says. Alec nods but catches his bright blue jacket sleeve.
"Just out of curiosity, though, why did you call me Blue Eyes yesterday?" Alexander questions out loud, and Magnus merely smiles and shrugs as if this was the most simple, obvious answer in the world.
"You have gorgeous blue eyes." Just like that, he waved and left Manhattan Mocha, hands stuffed in his pockets as he rounded the corner.
Slowly, ever so slowly, Alec began to grin.
It's become a bit of a ritual, sitting with Magnus, and Alec can't say that he regrets it at all.
It's ridiculous, really, to think that he could be in any way important to the illusive Magnus Bane, but he can't help but fantasize a little. He's just so Magnus, Alec realizes, with flamboyant outfits and brash words and scorching smiles and loud attitude and there-ness. Even just the way he sips his coffee is some sort of magic, something uniquely him, because his pinkie finger unconsciously sticks out and his eyelids flutter closed and his shoulders slip backwards. Everything about him is enchanting simply because of who he is.
So what if he's developing a bit of a thing for Magnus? It's just a harmless crush, in the end, because there's no way in hell he'd been interesting or cool or social enough for someone like him, anyways. Alec probably isn't even on his radar except for their chats inside Manhattan Mocha.
Or, at least, he would be saying that if not for the other activities they do.
. . . The thing is, they're not just meeting at Manhattan Mocha anymore. After two months of collectively drinking their overpriced beverages together, they've graduated to visiting book shops and the park and even a store this one time (and even though he hated shopping with nearly every fiber in his being, Alexander still had to tell himself to calm down after realizing wait a second, shopping for clothes is something couples do together). They're kinda-sorta friends and Alec kinda-sorta loves every second of it. Seeing the eccentric man is easily the best part of his day, no matter what happened earlier, no matter how bad the weather or an argument with his mother or just life in general was.
It's a problem.
It's an addiction, to be accurate. When he doesn't see the glittery Mr. Bane, Alec goes through withdraws.
Today is the first time he's actually been to his house, though, and that in and of itself is enough to take Alec's mood from 'just okay' to 'wow, I'm a four year old that's about to see a unicorn' in about five seconds flat. Something about the prospect of visiting Magnus' house, the place where he reads and eats and sleeps and works, is as entrancing as Magnus himself, and therefore this is a moment worthy of going in the history books.
Now here he was, waiting at the front step.
"So glad you could make it," the dark-haired man grins as he opens the door. Circling his feet is a small, fluffy white cat with a rhinestone collar. The cat looks at Alec, staring him up and down, before simply purring, becoming disinterested, and sauntering away.
"Glad to be here," Alexander replies truthfully, grinning just as brightly as he walked in the door. "Hey, what's your cat's name? I didn't realize you had one." Magnus waves him off.
"Oh, that's Chairman Meow. A bit of a mouthful, I'll admit, but he's rather full of himself. A cat like him deserves a big name to fit his bossy personality." Almost as if proving him right, the cat jumped onto the couch and began kneading it, laying down precisely in the middle of the sun spots from the windows. His feet crossed daintily.
"That's your fault for spoiling him," Alec said, shaking his head at the feline. "I have a cat of my own called Church and he's the farthest thing from high maintenance."
"I do spoil him, but there are other characteristics than 'prissy' that I attribute to Chairman. He's an excellent judge of character, actually," he replied. "I never date or become friends with somebody he doesn't seem to like."
"Wait, so was that what happened before I walked inside? He was judging my character through cat empathy?"
"Yup."
" . . . Did I pass?"
"Naturally, or you wouldn't be in here with me, Blue Eyes," Magnus declared with a wink. To his credit, Alec didn't blush like a schoolgirl this time, so he was slowly making progress. "So, I was thinking we could movie marathon it for the rest of the day. I've got about fifty bags of microwavable popcorn and a bunch of films I've never watched, so I figured that we could christen them. Is that alright with you?"
"Sure, I'm fine with that," the pale-skinned man agreed, "it's been forever since I've actually sat down and watched movies."
"Excellent! I'm going to go make a bunch of hot chocolate and heat up the popcorn, you look over some of the films," he smiled, gesturing to a big cardboard box. "It's kind of a jumbled mess, but you'll probably find a few things you like." With a nod, Alec began to root through the many battered DVDs, finally emerging with four stories.
"I've got Men In Black, Narnia, something called Stardust that looked interesting, and . . . " He started to put it back, because really, Magnus wasn't going to sit on the couch and watch something like that with him. What were they, six?
"What was the last one?" Magnus prodded, coming over and setting two (incredibly colorful) mugs on the coffee table.
"I changed my mind."
"Still, I'm curious. Which one of the movies was so traumatizing you decided you couldn't bear to watch it?" It was a tease, and he knew it, but with a resigned sigh, Alexander produced the original animated Beauty and the Beast.
"I just couldn't remember the last time I saw it. I was thinking about how my little sister, Izzy, watched this over and over again as a child. She forced all of us to see Beauty and the Beast and Mulan and Aladdin all the time." Despite all logic, Alec began to laugh a little, eyes lighting up. "I swear, even though she was only eight, she had more willpower than me and my adopted brother, Jace, put together. She won us over every time." He looked up. "So yeah, in a moment of weakness I grabbed for it. But it's stupid, we totally don't have to see this."
"That's where you're wrong. Now I'm contractually obligated to watch it with you," Magnus said firmly. Though Alec shuddered in response, the caramel-skinned man cheerfully ignored him. "I was one of those weirdos who loved this movie as a kid. It was my mom's favorite, until she passed."
"Oh, god, I'm so sor - " Magnus held up a hand.
"I don't want pity. I never wanted pity. She wanted to die and then she did, and that's her choice. I'm not going to accept some sort of sympathy because of that; I'm here now, aren't I?" he explained, golden eyes flashing. Slowly, Alec shook his head.
"No, I'm not sorry because I think you need pity or something. I'm sorry because you didn't deserve to be alone and handle things by yourself, if you were anything like you are now. You're a good person, Magnus." He paused for a second before continuing. "Also, I know how it feels, loosing somebody. My little brother, Max, got hit by a car several years ago. He had just barely finished out middle school, and he had trouble making friends, but he was a great kid. We all knew that he was going to be great one day, but then . . . It was the lowest all of us had ever felt. 'Sorry' didn't make it better, but we all gradually found normalcy again. So, yeah, I get it. Don't think that I'm looking down on you or anything, because I would never." Throughout everything, Magnus had just stared at him, slightly in shock, but now he was reaching forwards, wrapping his arms tightly around the Lightwood.
"That . . . that did not go the way I thought it would," he breathed, the tiniest bit of wonderment in his voice. "Thanks for not apologizing."
"Thanks for listening," Alec responded simply, because honestly, what else was there to say? As they broke apart, he set Beauty and the Beast atop the stack of DVDs, tugging Narnia out and popping it in the player.
"We're watching that movie now, Alexander," Magnus warned, cradling the bowl of popcorn in an almost threatening manor. "You can't stop me from seeing it. I will fight you." Silently, Alec smiled, his chest warming at the way Magnus said his full name. It made no sense, but he loved the way it sounded in the other man's mouth. It seemed . . . special, almost exotic that way. Different.
"Well, we have to save the best for last," he answered, pointedly not gazing at his companion. If he did, he would melt again, and Alec had to survive through another three films. He had already experienced a serious waver in willpower by mentioning Max, but dealing with Max and his incredibly attractive friend? He would be doomed. Melting would have to postpone itself.
Somewhere between the third and fourth film (apparently Stardust was pretty good) Alec realized that Magnus was holding his hand. It occurred to him that he didn't know how this happened, nor did he particularly care. As the afternoon faded into night and the pale screen illuminated Magnus' face, he was pretty sure that the man was magnetic. Yes, his magical powers of charisma had compelled Alec's hand to betray him, and that was why he was named Magnus.
Magnetize-Us. Just remove the 'etize' and there you were.
Watching Beauty and the Beast seemed a little better when Magnus gripped his fingers, though. Everything looked slightly brighter.
"I'm glad you came tonight," he says, shuffling in the doorway as Alec steps outside, and for the very first time the blue-eyed boy wonders if Magnus is just as nervous and fidgety as himself. Did he, maybe, like . . .
No. That would never happen, honestly. He's Magnus, with his vibrant mismatched mugs and bold wallpaper and lush couches and Persian rugs. He names his cats Chairman Meow and hates pity and makes the best hot chocolate and wears far-too-tight leather pants (and seriously, the pants alone are enough to give anybody fantasies). He's Magnus, with a smile to light up the world, and he's Alec, who's rather awkward and shy and remarkably normal. He likes himself, but he's kind of boring in comparison - at least, in his mind, that is. But then again, he sorta thinks of himself that way no matter who he's being compared to.
The joys of being antisocial.
"I'm glad I came, too," he finally says back, blue eyes locking on his in an almost intimate way. "Goodnight."
"Goodnight," Magnus murmurs back, frowning as he closes the door. In a moment of sheer stupidity (or maybe just bravery), Alec stops the door.
"See you tomorrow? I hear that there's a great ice cream place about a block away from Manhattan Mocha," he says, and the instant it comes out of his mouth Alexander wants to swallow up his words and slip into a coma.
Why did he have to speak?
Why is he even allowed to speak?
Why must -
"I'd love to," Magnus replies, his face visibly softened, and then the apartment is closed. Alec doesn't regain cognitive ability until he is back in his room, laughing and smiling and collapsing on the bed like this was the best night of his life and the worst, all at the same time.
Winter comes around in a flurry of white. White piles itself on his apartment's steps, takes the form of glowing holiday lights in department stores, and in the case of Chairman Meow, worms its way into his arms whenever Alec dares to sit down in Magnus' apartment, which has been incredibly often.
"I swear, that cat likes you more than me," Magnus always grumbles, his scowl never reaching his eyes. "I don't get it. He's typically not very social with other people no matter who they are, and I've been taking care of him for years. You'd think that he'd come to me, that betrayer." Alexander would always shrug and continue petting the needy creature.
"I'm just naturally irresistible, I guess," he'd answer, because more than anything he wanted to hear what was always said next.
"Yes you are, you jerk," his companion would joke, already back in better spirits, and Alec would beam like the Fourth of July. It's silly, but he can't help but be grateful to Chairman Meow. The pampered cat has provided him with a new outlet on which to daydream about what would happen if Magnus was serious.
He daydreams about it more often than he would like to admit, actually.
Today is not one of those days that he is quietly meandering around Magnus' house, though. It's a day where he's helping put up fake snowflakes and sparkling streamers, because Magnus is hosting a 'great, it's winter, and I don't want to throw a Christmas shindig on Christmas because the streets will be flooded with snow' party. The eccentric man, as Alec has discovered, is a very social creature, as are the majority of his friends. He invited Al in an attempt to force him into interacting with others, and it kinda sorta worked, because he's here, isn't he?
Yeah, reading a book sounded worlds more enjoyable than going to a party, but there were only about twenty people coming over, according to Mr. Bane himself.
"My closest friends and myself," he said, and that was that. Hopefully that meant that Alec was included in that group.
He mingles with a few people once it kicks into gear; there are some of Magnus' closest friends, Ragnor, Tessa, Raphael, and others, and he talks to them. The vast majority of them smile and shake his hand, but they don't really stick around to chat. They acknowledge him and are mostly respectful, but they came to the party to see eachother and Magnus, and Alec is still a perfect stranger.
Eventually he ends up talking with some girl named Lydia, a cop-in-training. She also didn't know everybody as intimately as the majority of the crowd, so they chat about absolute randomness, from the cold weather to politics to book series to the incredibly loud canary shirt somebody was wearing. Alec calmed down slightly next to her, because yeah, the blonde understood his urge to curl into a ball and hide. Lydia was nice.
Then he sees Magnus out of the corner of his eye, and the host seems to be examining them. It's not a glare, or a smile, just . . . taking things in. Trying to make sense of the world. It's a little disconcerting.
Finally, as everybody files out, Lydia hands him a note with her number on it.
"I think we would make good friends," she explains, "and this is for if you ever get bored. We could hang out sometime." And then she's gone, and Alexander is alone with Magnus again, and suddenly the room feels warmer after that revelation.
"So, you got her number," the caramel-skinned man starts casually, picking up the leftover food platters.
"Lydia's? Yeah, she seemed nice," Alec responds, not putting too much thought into what he was saying.
"Are you thinking about calling her?"
"Maybe. I wouldn't mind spending some more time with her."
" . . . Does that mean you're interested in Ly?"
"I'm interested in her. It'd be cool to get to know her," Alec replies, still not really paying much attention to himself. "Wait, so I can throw this stuff away, right?" There was a long, stretched out silence.
"Yes, you can chuck those." Magnus' voice comes out more monotone than expected, lacking a lot of its usual richness, and Alec turns around with a frown. The man looks . . . off. Slightly sickly, perhaps.
"Are you feeling alright, Magnus? You don't look so good. I could get you some water, or - "
"I'm alright," he interrupted, producing a smile that didn't reach his eyes. "It's nothing." With that, they put everything away in a more compatible manner, short conversations flowing, though something continued to feel strange about the odd character that was Magnus Bane.
"Who's the new guy?" his sister Izzy asks, grinning widely.
"Who?"
"You know, the new guy. The reason you've been so deliriously happy the last couple of months," she says, as always, continuing to dazzle him simply by existing. She's Isabelle, strong and independent and kind and smart, girly and frivolous yet tough as nails. She's Izzy, his little sibling, and how could he ever say no to somebody like that? The Lightwoods, if anything, may differ in tastes, interests, and personalities, but they are the most tightly woven family anybody has ever seen.
"There's no new guy. I'm not dating anybody." His blush is a bit of a dead giveaway, though, and he really wishes that he'd have more self control. Alec is always clever and logical and relatively composed, but something about that infuriatingly amazing man takes everything that is self-assured about Alexander and throws it out a window.
"You liar." The words leaving Isabelle's mouth aren't in the least bit bitter, but they continue to hold curiosity and an unspoken 'elaborate please', so he does.
"I'm not, I swear. I just . . . " Alec trails off, because what was there to say? How did he describe his friendship with Magnus? "I met somebody. I met somebody that's really good."
"Oh, Al," she grins, and he swears up and down that she's already planning his wedding to this complete stranger. Isabelle, though he loves her, has a terrible habit of meddling in his relationships. If she had her way, she would probably be following him around on all of his dates, trying to make sure that everything goes smoothly.
She may have a career as 'professional stalker' lined up. One never knows.
It's only because he took forever to come out about being gay and the fact that he rarely goes on dates that she cares. Izzy worries about his happiness more than anything, and therefore she's developed her slightly obsessive complex about his affairs. It's nice to know that she wants to see him settled, but at the same time, Alec would rather crawl under a rock and die rather than talk about his feelings in depth to her.
He's currently out of giant rocks at the moment, so.
Damn it all.
"We're just friends, okay?" he finally tells her back, pulling at the collar on his shirt. "That's it, Iz. He probably doesn't even like me." She cocked an eyebrow, vibrant eyes flashing.
"He's got to be something special to make you like this," Isabelle gestured, exasperation evident. "By the angel, Alexander, if he doesn't like you, he's an idiot. You're a catch; I mean, have you ever looked in a mirror? With some nice clothes and minor grooming, you'd be a perfect ten."
"Thanks, I feel so loved." Naturally, she shoved him.
"Whatever. Whoever this guy is, he better be worth your random bouts of joy. I will hunt him down if he isn't."
"It's official. You're never meeting him. Ever," he deadpanned, glaring at her fiercely. Instead of letting the subject drop, she laughed and skipped ahead of him.
"That's what you think, lover boy!" She's running down the block, the wind catching her dark hair. "Try to keep up!" It's random, instantaneous, and stupid, but soon he's racing with his sister down the block like an olympic sprinter, and all thoughts of maiming Izzy are wiped from his mind.
All in all, Alec likes spending time with her. But he's looking forward to spending time with somebody else at a coffee shop a little more, he thinks.
"When are you and Lydia going to go out?" The question from Magnus is enough to make Alec nearly spit out his black coffee onto the floor. Luckily, his concern about wastefulness was stronger than his shock, and instead he swallowed uncomfortably and stuttered.
"What?" the Lightwood finally mustered, eyes wide.
"I said, when are you and Lydia going to go out?" his companion repeats, tracing his finger lazily over the nickname of the day, 'Ma'. Because, of course, that barista couldn't be bothered to write out their full names.
"Never," he responds instantly.
"What do you mean, never?"
"I mean I'm never taking her out on a date because I'm not interested in her," Alexander clarifies, shooting the dark-haired man across from him a look.
"Yes you are - you told me you were interested in Lydia just the other day at my house," Magnus replies in disbelief, running a hand through his glitter-infested hair.
"I'd like to get to know her, sure."
"I thought you got her number."
"She thought we could become friends and hang out sometime." Alec's eyebrow shot up. "Why do you want to know?"
"Just curious, I guess. I thought that you were going to start dating or something," Magnus tries, staring at the floor. Alec, in an instant of pure hilarity, laughed loudly, his chuckles echoing through the nearly-deserted cafe.
"That's never going to be a problem. Gay people don't typically date girls, Magnus," he comments, still grinning. "Trust me, Lydia is off the table." He waited for the realization to hit his friend.
"Wait, you like men? Like, only males?"
"Yes, that's how being gay works, Magnus. I've been out of the closet for several years, even if I don't exactly advertise it like some people." He took another sip of his coffee, suddenly feeling a little nervous. "Is that alright with you, the fact that I'm gay? Because I just assumed you knew and I consider you as a really good friend." Magnus smiled slowly and finally picked up his untouched macchiato.
"We're fine," the caramel-skinned man assures, the foam sticking to the top of his lip. "And I've never been better." After that, things resume as usual, and Alec can't help but wonder if maybe he wasn't so crazy for thinking Magnus might like him. Based on the way he grinned, maybe Alec has a chance after all.
The thought, though slightly unbelievable, is immensely satisfying and comforting.
It's not like Magnus Bane to be touchy-feely, though he's certainly not uncomfortable doing so. It would be hard to believe that someone as outgoing and extroverted as Magnus would ever feel uncomfortable being close with people, and despite his acquired tastes and constant glitter, the black-haired man always seemed far older than his twenty eight years. But in any case, he always made a concerted effort, Alec noticed, to tone down his urges around his friends. Magnus was chaos, true, but he was controlled chaos, and that was something to be noted and respected.
Alexander realized that said touchy-feely urges were a little less . . . suppressed, shall we say, than usual.
It's just that he's constantly ruffling Alec's hair and jokingly/seriously threatening to get it cut now. He's snatching glances at Alexander and smiling all the time and grabbing his hand when they're alone like this is perfectly natural. He's acting (dare he say it) flirtatious now, as if a switch has been flicked, and it's slightly terrifying and slightly amazing all at the same time.
Alec's fairly certain he's not imagining it. He's about 85% sure.
Isabelle continues to badger him, proving herself as nosy and involved as ever in his love life, and she's no help. She keeps telling Alec that, if he thinks all that about this man, he should just ask him out.
"It's not that easy in real life, Iz," he insisted, trying to get his point across. "I can't just go out there and say that I like him!"
"Actually, it is that easy, Al," she snorted back, waving him off. "You're just afraid of rejection or something stupid like that. Take it from me."
"You've dated a lot of guys for weeks at a time, Isabelle. Before you started going out with Simon, you were all over the place."
"Exactly. I've got tons of experience to share," Isabelle smirked, dodging the point as always. "And I'm telling you to go for it if he makes you happy. Sooner or later he'll see how great you are."
"No, Iz." And that's kind of where he's stuck. Because Magnus, lo and behold, is actually displaying signs of attraction beyond their usual coffee shop encounters, and Alexander is absolutely mortified to make the first move based on that information. He's always been terrified of loosing him in his life, and that's why casual conversations and meet ups were as far as he allowed himself to read into things. Alec Lightwood isn't nearly as well-versed in relationships as his siblings, and if this one blew up?
He might fall into a coma. Seriously, he may want to shrivel up into a ball and wither into oblivion. Life without Magnus didn't seem like much of a life at all, really.
Also, Alec's kinda crap at reading social ques, and he's internally debating whether or not he's leaning way too far into this. Magnus asked him if he wanted to go to the movies, and now he's all sorts of jittery and nervous because hey, don't couples go to the movies on dates? It's hard not to over-analyze this new revelation as he's sitting in their little booth at the back, coffee cup in hand, waiting for his friend in black jeans and a navy button up and trying not to have a conniption fit.
Any second now. Any second now.
Then any second now is gone with the ringing of a shop bell, the barista briefly looking up from her magazine and then mumbling "Oh, just you," with a monotone voice. Magnus smiles and waves from the front, pulls theater tickets out of his pocket, and says, "You look great." It's nice, Alec thinks, doing this. He's slightly less anxious.
The film is actually some god-awful teen flick that they had picked on accident, and honestly, both could care less about the antics of twenty-year-old Mason Gray and his ex girlfriend from freshman year, but it's fun to mock.
"Heaven forbid he has to pick between the out-of-the-blue past flame Heather and Renee, the best friend who's always there for him," Magnus snorted, trying not to laugh from their vantage point at the top row. "I mean, it's not like he won't ever date again or anything."
"I bet you he'll propose to Heather before realizing Renee is his one and only at the altar," Alec snickered quietly. "I like the sound of Heathson better than Manee."
"Better yet, the two girls should get together and put our poor Mr. Gray out of his misery," the caramel-skinned man wheezed, grinning wildly. "The perfect will-they, won't-they. A tale to be told for generations."
"Such an amazing movie." Another handful of popcorn was grabbed.
"I'm definitely sharing this with our kids one day." Alec froze up, because there was no way he just said that.
"Did you just - "
"Can you guys be quiet, please? Some of us are actually trying to enjoy the movie," comes a haughty voice from the chair in front of them, and with a roll of his eyes, Magnus leaned back and drank an overpriced soda in silence.
Alec died. He was dead. Magnus just mentioned their kids. True, he probably didn't mean it like that, but . . .
Alec blushed his way through the entire rest of the movie. Magnus teased him for getting even redder when he grabbed his hand.
All in all, a pretty good day.
He's finally having a sit-down dinner with one of Magnus' closest and dearest friends.
Not going to a party they happen to be at, not casually talking to them when they encounter eachother on the streets.
Alec is actually going to have a private, intimate dinner with this person he doesn't know and Magnus Bane, and the overall idea is a little frightening.
"So, where did you go to college?" she asks, smiling kindly. It's almost stupid to feel panicked around Catarina, since she's been nothing but sweet and accepting, but still, Alexander is somewhat of a nervous wreck at the moment.
"I decided to go Ivy League, since I had applied as a joke in my senior year of high school to Harvard. I never expected to get in, but here I am," he states, swirling his drink like an absolute moron because he has no idea what else to do. Luckily, Cat seems to find it charming rather than sad, so he gets away with it. "I got a four year degree and finished out. Now I work as a nonprofit lawyer, but I'm not too busy. I got a minor in literature and am more of a writer, actually. It's an excuse to avoid interacting with other humans."
"I told you he was smart," Magnus calls from the kitchen as he brings in the food from the kitchen. "And you all said I was over exaggerating. Is this man not perfect?"
"Magnus!" the blue-eyed man hisses indignantly, crossing his arms. Catarina laughs before taking another casual sip of her drink.
"He's about as close as you'll get, I'd say," she agrees with a hum, as if musing everything over. "Especially since he can put up with you."
"And here I thought you were the compassionate one out of my friends. What a shame."
"I am, but somebody needs to mother you. What kind of mother would I be if I didn't get to embarrass you on occasion?"
"A nice, empathetic one who understands that her son doesn't want to scare dear Alexander away just yet," he grumbles, even though his eyes are full and bright.
"It wouldn't be fair not to tell him that you don't deserve him, isn't it?" Cat says, her voice rumbling with laughter.
"I'm still here, you know," Alexander coughs, clearing his throat as though to get their attention once more. "I can hear everything." Fondly rolling his eyes, Magnus leans over towards Alec and pokes him lightly on the nose.
"Of course you are, darling, and we're very glad to have you. Though Catarina is lovely, we'd suffer without your pretty face. Now eat your lasagna - it's the only thing I can make proficiently." The raven haired guest is more than happy to dodge conversation (and therefore the social spotlight and altogether nervousness) by stuffing his face, so he resolves to do exactly that. Lo and behold, this strategy actually works and he's able to spend the entirety of this 'get to know you' event mainly in a comfortable, safe silence. He nods in the right places, answers questions and asks a few of his own, but on the whole it's not very much work.
When Magnus gets up to go the restroom, Catarina grins at him warmly and tells him, "I'm really happy Magnus met you, Alec. You're good for him." It's not much, but the persistent nerves quiet for the most part when he realizes he doesn't need to gain her approval or interest - he already has it, really.
"I'm happy, too," he responds, and she pats his hand like a proud parent.
Eventually, Magnus comes back, and he instantly feels more confident when the caramel-skinned man plops down in the chair to his left, loudly complaining about how his bathroom needs more soap but he can't find the same scent at the store anymore. It's a stupid, trivial, utterly Magnus request, and Alec unwittingly falls for the man there. Just a little.
He hopes Cat didn't notice.
The blue-eyed man wonders about whether she knew about what he thought on Magnus, and then what she meant by 'you're good for him'. It's kind of complicated, but in a good way, he thinks.
Alec ruins everything.
It's been a terrible day, alright?
Work went poorly and his boss dumped a new case on him out of nowhere, Izzy is out of town, his brother Jace is preoccupied with his girlfriend, Clary, and can't shut up about her for five minutes, and two pages of his writing have been deleted thanks to a computer glitch.
As if to top things off, somebody spilled coffee all over his jacket, making it sopping wet in a New York January.
He had to walk six blocks through the snowy streets in a drenched, bitter-smelling coat.
It's so much fun being Alexander Lightwood today.
And then there's the problem with him utterly destroying relations with Magnus.
The glittery man had decided to throw another party because it's January, Alexander, and someone needs to liven things up. January is the most boring time of year ever. Thus, since he had nothing better to do, the blue eyed Lightwood had elected to go, figuring a change of pace might improve his mood a little.
It did not improve his mood.
The party actually dampened his mood when he realized that, even though being there was less awkward than last time (he was able to talk to Lydia again, who also seemed more at ease and was apparently engaged, and Catarina hugged him fiercely and chatted with him for a while, so he wasn't a complete social outcast again) he couldn't get past the fact that several people, men and women, were openly flirting with Magnus. Just as he was about to cut in and talk with the host, another girl would show up, batting her lashes and commenting on what a nice home he had.
It was infuriating, to say the least. What was worse was the fact that he actually responded.
Sure, Magnus wasn't exactly throwing himself at them, but he would smile and laugh back, making small talk before sending them on their way. Somewhere along the way, even though he isn't with the caramel-skinned man, Alec has started to think of him as his, and seeing him interact with other singles awakened a pang of jealousy in him.
In a fit of non-Alexander-ness, he starts talking to another guy at the party. He's got blonde hair and brown eyes, and he's cute, but he's a complete stranger and not his type. His type is apparently 'unavailable, uninterested, and obsessed with glitter'. Still, this doesn't stop him from sitting next to the guy, making conversation with him for several minutes, and then dancing with him in a rush of spontaneity.
Then he really blows everything up. He kisses the guy.
The stranger is warm, and eager, surprisingly, and his lips are soft and insistent and all in all it's a pretty good kiss. Despite that, Alec feels absolutely nothing throughout any of it, not during the kiss, and not afterwards when the blonde looks so winded he could pass out. The blue eyed man is simply numb all over, empty, until Magnus grabs his shoulder and growls, "Outside. Now, Alexander." The words send a shiver down his spine, despite their anger.
Soon they are on Magnus' doorstep, standing in the hallway together, and the irritated Mr. Bane has a finger to Alec's chest.
Dammit. Even when he's beyond pissed off for no apparent reason, he's attractive.
"Just what do you think you were doing, Alexander?" he hisses, face red and practically giving off steam.
"Me? What did I do?"
"I turn around for five seconds and see you making out with one of my guests! What did you think you did?!" he says tightly, his voice raising. "By the angel, Alexander, why else would I be mad?"
"Well I'm sorry, I thought you were supposed to make out with people at parties," the Lightwood sniffs, and he knows in that moment that he's being a complete child but he can't help himself.
"Not with complete strangers!"
"They're your friends!"
"Yeah, but you shouldn't hook up with them!"
"Who else, then?" he snarls, blue eyes flashing. "It's not like people are forming a line to go out with me."
"What do you mean, who else?" Magnus asks incredulously, running a hand through his hair. "Shouldn't that answer be obvious?"
"Apparently not," Alec replies back, his sentence clipped. "Why do you care, anyways? You're not my boyfriend, Magnus, so get off my back!" The colorful man steps back slightly, lips widened into a perfect 'o', emerald eyes flinching back in a way they never did before. He, the unsinkable, talented, glitter-obsessed Magnus Bane is actually hurt by this. He's actually been hurt by Alexander Lightwood, the loner in Manhattan Mocha who wears baggy sweaters and spends his free time writing novels.
This, of course, is where he realizes he has utterly ruined everything.
"Magnus, I didn't - I mean, I - "
"You're right, I guess I'm not." His face is steely and cold now, so unlike the warm and carefree personality he's come to know and admire. More than anything, his expression is what stings, what pours salt into the wound. "Please, feel free to do whatever you'd like." He closes the door with a subtle, quiet thud that happens to say more than any bang would, leaving Alec to sulk outside in the cold, thinking about the gravity of what he's just accomplished.
The first thing Alexander does is kick the wall repeatedly before graduating to head banging. Everything about his face hurts, but he's in emotional pain anyways, so at least the outside matches the inside.
He's an idiot. He's a complete, utter idiot.
Not knowing what else to do in his stupor, Alexander begins walking home, the frigid air puffing out into the inky night sky. But then he thinks about his home, and he remembers that his wall is plastered with photographs of his friends and family - Magnus included. His desk still has the ticket stubs from their first movie outing on it. Heck, even his wardrobe is plastered with little white furs, courtesy of Chairman Meow. His friend is everywhere, and at home there is no escaping him.
So instead of going straight to his place, the blue eyed twenty six year old veers off and heads into Manhattan Mocha, where he orders beverages in order to postpone his inevitable return. Sadly, out of pure, blind habit, he accidentally selects two drinks, getting one for Magnus as well. With a groan, Alexander miserably chugs both his regular black and the obscenely sugary milkshake masquerading as coffee, practically choking the later down.
On the order, today the barista has taken it upon herself to write 'Ex'. It seems far too appropriate.
The next day, Catarina calls.
"Alex? I don't know what happened between you and Magnus last night, but you need to come over and help fix it. He's . . . well, he's miserable. I've never seen him more broken. I think you're the only person who can fix this right now - you mean a lot to him."
"I'm a mess, Cat. He really, really doesn't need me to swoop in and make things worse."
"Alec, he misses you. Could you please just - "
"I'm sorry, Cat, but I can't. Not right now."
"Alec - "
He hangs up on her. He's not exactly proud, but he can't go back and see Magnus. Not now. He'll shatter like cheaply made glass.
Maybe he'll never be ready. Magnus Bane has really done a number on him.
A week slips by. Then another.
Izzy is getting worried, so he puts a smile on his face and decides to go get coffee with her and Jace. They laugh, they drink warm beverages, and everything's actually pretty okay.
Magnus isn't there.
It's nice, but it's not the same.
Finally, Alexander decides to man up and go apologize because he's sick of thinking about him, seeing pictures of him, passing his apartment, and not being able to talk to him. He feels the guilt and shame rise up again like old friends when he knocks on the familiar wood, bracing himself for the whirlwind of vindication that will be Magnus Bane.
He doesn't expect what he sees.
His companion is makeup-less, wearing old sweatpants and one of his 'hideous' sweaters, and his lips are drawn up into a saddened scowl.
"Blue Eyes," he says, eyes going wide. "What are you doing here?"
"I came to apologize, if you'd let me." It's a lot shyer than he intended, and much softer. Magnus crosses his arms.
"Well, you're doing a great job so far. I can taste the sincerity."
"Please, Magnus," he says, hating the slight waver in his voice, and the dark-haired man shifts on the balls of his feet, Chairman Meow circling his legs.
"Why should I?" The response is suspicious, mistrusting, and he has to wince at that.
"Because you deserve an apology," Alec begins slowly, trying his hardest not to look away despite Magnus' glare. "Because I'm a complete idiot and you're the best friend I've ever had. Because I miss everything about you, from the way you dress like the fashionista that everybody knows you are to the way that you track glitter through my apartment to how you dote on your ridiculously prissy cat. I miss that you laugh at me whenever I do anything stupid, which is almost always, with now being the exception. I miss that you put up with me even when I'm having terrible days and that you never fail to surprise me. I miss that you keep inviting me to parties only because you want me to meet more people, and hell, I even miss the way you make me go on shopping trips all the time, even though I hate shopping. You're literally perfect in every conceivable way and I have no idea why you even bother with me because I'm an absolute mess of a human being and I'm really not that exciting. I'm apologizing because I totally don't deserve you or your friendship, but I'm selfish and I want it back even though I screwed everything up. I want this back because somewhere between the first time you sat across from me and now I fell in love with you and now I'm trying to make things right." It's a big, tangled blur, and as soon as it's out in the air, Alec wants to punch himself. Magnus' eyes are indecipherable, glossy and red and puffy, his hand is over his mouth, and he seems to be in a coma. "I mean, I . . . By the angel, what did I just . . . I'm sorry, I didn't - "
Magnus is pressing him against the wall, kissing him fiercely, the tears freely streaking down his face now. Alexander, after a moment of complete shock, begins kissing back, kneading their lips together with vigor. His hand messily knots through the emerald eyed man's hair, destroying any evidence of styling, and soon the world melts away into shades of red and gold. His stomach is doing flips, and his heart wrenches almost painfully when his companion moans into his mouth, grabbing his collar.
Alec isn't even ashamed to admit that he's winded by the end of their kiss.
"Do you have any idea what you did to me when you said that, Alexander?" Magnus pants lowly, chest heaving. Absentmindedly, he traces fingers along Alec's collarbone as if assuring himself that the other man was real. "You gutted me. I thought I was being completely obvious and you just weren't interested."
"How could I not be? You're Magnus Bane, best person alive," he responds instantly, his tone bordering incredulous.
"And you love me, apparently." It's more of a question than a statement, as if he's still unsure. with shaky fingers and a growing blush, the Lightwood takes his hand and brushes his cheek.
"I do." There is a long, stretching silence, warm and contemplative and so much brighter than before. They share a small eternity in the doorway, pressed so close they are almost one person.
"You have a lot to make up for."
"Trust me, I plan on spending a long time making up for it, if you'd have me." Another pause ensues as a new worry occurs. "I mean, it's your choice. I can leave if you want me to." Slowly, Magnus hums, almost as if mulling this over. He leans in, close enough to touch, or perhaps to kiss again. He stops only centimeters away.
"It better be a long, long time, Alexander. You're stuck with me now." He drags the blue-eyed idiot back inside, shutting the door, and their lips intertwine again.
It feels a lot like coming home.
"Alec, why do you always order black coffee?"
"Magnus, I told you, it's much better for you than all of that creamer you dump into your drink. It's hardly even coffee anymore."
"I take it back. I don't want to know. Just let your boyfriend enjoy his venti, alright?"
"You're a drama queen."
"Naturally. Now go get me another packet of sugar, waif."
"Waif?"
"That's right, Blue Eyes. I'm the queen, you're the waif. It's why I appreciate the finer things in life, such as creamer in coffee."
"Whatever, Magnus."
"Hmmm."
Isabelle and Magnus finally end up meeting six months into their relationship and the two are instantly best friends.
It's horrifying.
"I call bridesmaid," Izzy suddenly declares, straightening up abruptly. "I called it now, so don't you dare weasel me out of this, Alec. I've been dreaming of being the person to toss flower petals at a wedding since I was six. You can't take this from me."
"Bridesmaid? To what?" Alexander questions as they walk back to her apartment.
"Your wedding to Magnus, duh," she snorts, rolling her eyes. "Because if I don't call bridesmaid now, you're going to give it away to someone like Jace, and though I love our brother, Jace would be a terrible Maid of Honor."
Jace as a bridesmaid, of all things. The thought is almost enough to distract him from the more pressing part of his sister's sentence.
"We're not getting married, Iz, so there's nothing to worry about," he tells her firmly, rounding a corner. "Don't hold your breath."
"Yes you are."
"No, we're not."
"Um, yeah, you are."
"Isabelle, we have been together for a grand total of twenty six weeks."
"So? You're going to get married to him. I've seen the way you look at him."
"Of course we're going to get married, just not right now!" he says, his voice raising comically high out of nowhere. His sister has a rather self-satisfied grin on her face. "Don't say a word," he mutters, looking at the ground.
"About what, brother dearest?"
"Me and marrying him. Just let me salvage what little is left of my self esteem."
"I won't mess with you . . . "
"Unless what?"
" . . . Can I throw the flower petals?"
He agrees to her terms. Isabelle Lightwood squeals and throws herself into her brother's arms.
Marriage doesn't feel so far off, when she teases him about it like that.
"Hey, I got you a coffee on my way back to work." Magnus smiles as he pulls an order with a double shot of caramel and two pumps of chocolate syrup out of his boyfriend's hands.
"Thanks, darling." Alec kissed him on the cheek before gathering his things and heading for the door again. "Wait, where do you think you're going? You just arrived."
"Home. I have lots of work to do and my computer's back at my apartment." Magnus smirks and pulls his significant other towards him, dropping a kiss to his neck. "What are you doing?"
"Convincing you to stay at my place and make out while we order dinner. Hopefully it's working."
"You know I can't tonight."
"Yes, you can, Blue Eyes. You shouldn't ever have to leave my place. I'm going to kidnap you."
"Mmmm, but all my stuff is over there. I just came to drop off your coffee," he pointed out, trying not to let Magnus know just how much he was effecting him. The next kiss was dropped in rapid succession to his collarbone, causing him to shiver before he could catch himself.
"Move in, then. We've been together for almost a year and a half - just stay here."
"But I - "
"Alec, move in with me. I won't stop bugging you until you do."
"I can't, I - "
"Alexander." A final kiss is pressed behind his ear, taunting him, and Alec promptly forgets about anything and everything.
In the end, Magnus wins, because Alexander moves in before the end of the month. To be honest, though, Alec couldn't be happier.
Rain falls on their windowpane, but Magnus grabs him from behind and wraps a very loud, very bright blanket around them both.
"What are you thinking about, darling?"
"Life," he muses, watching the droplets fall. "Everything."
"Sounds dangerous," Magnus hums, squeezing him tighter. "Is it a good everything?"
"The best," Alec smiles, knowing without turning around that his companion's will mirror his own.
"I bet it's because I'm in it."
"Of course."
"That better not be sarcasm. I'll sick Chairman on you."
"Church would protect me."
"Clever boy."
"He learns from his father," Alexander answers absentmindedly, leaning back into the familiar chest.
He never really distinguishes who he was referring to, and maybe it was just better that way.
"Alexander?"
"Hmm?"
"Have I ever told you that I love you?"
"I don't think so."
"Well, I do. More than anything. I just wanted you to know."
"I love you too, Magnus, but is this a conversation that needs to happen at 3am?"
"Here's your coffee, Alexander," Magnus says, smiling like he's just won the lottery. Alec examines the love of his life suspiciously from the back of their booth, slowly taking the cup and taking a cautious slurp. He's almost surprised to find that it's just plain black.
"You didn't try to drug it with your nasty flavor shots behind my back today," the blue-eyed man proclaims in wonder, looking at the cup as if it's a miracle.
"Is that the only thing different about it today?" Magnus asks, voice bright and excited much like a small child's.
"It's . . . fresher?"
"It's . . . fresher, Alexander?" his companion sighs, though the anxious joy is still there. "Fresher, really?"
"Well I don't know, coffee is coffee."
"The cup, Alexander, look at the stupid cup."
" . . . New type of cardboard?" he tries weakly. With a groan, Magnus facepalms himself.
"I'm dating the most oblivious man in the world." Dumbly, Alec quirks his head. "There's a ribbon around the cup, by the angel, Blue Eyes." Confused, the Lightwood looks down and sees that yes, a small red ribbon is wrapped around the perimeter of the drink. He carefully turns it around to reveal a name: Alexander, for the first time, and not 'Al' or 'An' or 'Ex'.
Underneath that, in an impossibly small bow, is a shiny gleaming ring, the dim light dancing off of the gold.
"Marry me?" comes a voice, and when he looks up Magnus is next to him, on his knees, and for once the teenage barista is smiling, her earphones pulled out.
Wordlessly, he unties the knot and pulls the ring on. It's a perfect fit.
Izzy organizes everything, because of course she does, and Magnus is insistent that their cats, Chairman and Church, have little matching bow ties during the ceremony. Alec kindly informs his fiance that he's nuts, and no, we aren't giving our pets formal attire. Magnus pouts and threatens to make him sleep on the couch, so he caves.
Everything goes smoothly, for the most part, and even Jace seems to be on his best behavior. This may have had something to do with the fact that his girlfriend threatened to unleash a duck on him if he didn't play nice.
Alexander thinks he would like having Clary as a sister in law, after all.
Isabelle gets to throw petals, much to her joy, and his adoptive brother's best man speech goes off without a hitch. But his favorite part of the wedding is when Magnus pulls him aside and whisphers, "I'm happy I'm spending my forever with you."
"I am, too." And that's all there is to say.
Exactly six years later from the first time they talked, Magnus and Alexander Lightwood-Bane sit in the back booth of Manhattan Mocha, wearing thick scarves and matching golden rings. They're smiling over their respective drinks, which consist of an extraordinarily plain order and one that is loaded with as many additives that are available.
"You know, when I first stole your coffee, I had no idea what I would find," Alexander comments, taking a small sip of his beverage. His husband smiles, grabbing his hand and running a thumb over his knuckles.
"And what exactly was that, Blue Eyes?"
He grins right back before answering.
"Love, actually."
This is finally over. I'm about to cry, sadly.
This took wayyyyy too long to do than it should have but I really like how my coffee shop AU turned out. I hope everybody else did, too!
Be sure to check out my other stories, including a college AU on Malec that I wrote about a month or so back. I also have a modeling AU planned for them that I've got about 2k done for already, so that's going to be a thing. Hopefully it's going to be out in about another month or so - I've got so much to get around to!
Please remember to leave a comment (I sustain myself off of validation) and to favorite and follow both me and this story. I really appreciate this and am open to requests - if I like the prompt, I'll try to write something for it. Feel free to PM me.
Anyways, bye! Thanks for reading!