A/N- This series is a collection of fills for Malec role reversal prompts I've requested over on tumblr. For anyone interested in sending me a prompt, check out my profile. As long as it is Malec, and one or both of our presh men are requested in a different role within the series, I'm probably open to writing it.


An Infinite Spectrum

::: one—Camille!Alec & canon!Magnus : : :

"It's been a long time, Alexander," Magnus says, closing the Sanctuary's door behind him with a flick of his hand and a small shower of blue sparks.

Alec looks up from his seat on the stone floor, peering out through a curtain of pitch black bangs. In their years apart, Magnus had almost forgotten how startlingly pale his skin looks in contrast to his hair. It stands out like moonlight, lovely if not for the blessed chains binding him to the column behind him and the burns already beginning to form.

"It has," Alec agrees, tilting his head toward Magnus in acknowledgment. As he does, his bangs slide away, revealing blue eyes as dark as the evening sky, gleaming like the stars that adorn it. They put Magnus in mind of late night strolls through London, walking hand-in-hand near the Thames, smiling despite the awful stench of the water and quarreling over Magnus's insistence that Alec put a show of breathing on if only for fairness' sake. Alec's hand had always been cold in his back then, especially after Magnus had coaxed him out of the habit of wearing gloves. He had warmth enough to share, and what were chilled hands in comparison to the feel of fingers as soft as silk and strong as steel clasped around Magnus's own?

"You've hardly changed at all," Magnus observes at last, lips twitching into a semblance of a smile at the sight of familiarly shabby, out-of-date clothing, "especially the contents of your closet. I'm pretty sure you wore that shirt on one of our dates."

"You always were the one to keep me modern," Alec admits with a shrug. A bare patch of his skin hisses as it comes into firmer contact with the chains, but if it hurts overly much, Alec doesn't show it. "You haven't changed much either, Magnus."

"I don't know what you're talking about. I update my wardrobe weekly, for one, and I'm doing something different with my hair—"

"I see you still avoid conflict with nonchalance and flippancy, though." Alec huffs out a small laugh, but his eyes are sharp and unamused. "You still have that habit of giving your heart away to hopeless cases and heartbreakers if that blonde mortal from earlier is anything to go by. Who is she?"

"My girlfriend," Magnus says plainly, cataloguing the way Alec's breath hitches minimally at the confession. Once, Magnus would have thought of it as a habit from living that lingered past Alec's death. In his darker days, when he and Alec had first went their separate ways and he tried so desperately to hate everything about Alec, he was convinced it was something Alec mimicked to make himself seem more human, more accessible. Now, with a century to distance himself from all of the personal hurts that had festered after the severing of their relationship, Magnus isn't sure which, if either, is right.

Ultimately, Magnus supposes it doesn't matter anymore.

"So you really are dating a Shadowhunter, then? Are you really that desperate to keep taking lovers who will eventually leave you, that you would associate yourself with the same people who look down on, judge and slaughter our kind for an assumed self-righteous 'heavenly mandate'?"

There are dark veins standing out against the translucent skin of Alec's temples, webbing across it like spun spider silk, but even that doesn't take away from his beauty. Neither does the sneer pulling up his lip to bare a hint of fang. It is a terrible sort of loveliness, beautiful in the way a bright flash of lightning tearing apart the sky is. It is something that Magnus has both loathed to remember and yearned to relive for over one hundred years. If not for his age and experience, he would already be on his knees before Alec, pressing himself into that blistering brilliance.

"Speaking of not changing, you're just as jealous as you used to be. To be fair, you are probably at least twice as hateful now. I understand your grudge against Shadowhunters," and truly, Magnus does. Once, before Will and Tessa and Jem and the others at the London Institute, he felt similarly, and Alec has his own reasons that few could even begin to relate to, Magnus included, "but with the accusations leveled against you right now, all that vitriol is only going to work against you."

"Whatever murders they are trying to accuse me of, they are wrong," Alec says bluntly. "As much as I wouldn't have minded ending the life of a former Circle member, I'm not stupid, and I don't kill senselessly. You know that about me, Magnus."

"I used to think that of you," Magnus corrects, studiously ignoring the way Alec's eyes had softened toward the end of his explanation for the first time since seeing him. "I never thought you'd have left me, either."

"That's not fair," Alec says, jerking forward against his bonds until beads of gem bright, shining blood begin to pearl along his wrists. "I had no choice, and when I came back and tried to explain myself, you left me. You told me you loved me, and then demanded I leave. Besides, what happened between us shouldn't be held against my entire character. Not when my life is on the line."

When it came to danger, Alec had always been contained, standing dauntless and resolute against whatever had risen up to face him. To most, Alec had never been afraid in his centuries of reanimation. Magnus knows where to look though, sees the fear in every tense line of his lips and shoulders. Right now, chained down and helpless, facing serious accusations leveled against him by people who have only ever disappointed him and with no one to support him, Alec is quietly terrified.

Before everything had gone so wrong between them, Magnus would have gently smoothed every one of those lines away. Maybe that's why he steps forward and sits, joining Alec on the floor. Their knees touch, and Magnus can feel the chill of Alec's skin through both layers of cloth between them. When he shivers, Magnus chalks it up to that.

"If you didn't do anything wrong, then why are you here, Alec?" Nothing passes between them but silence, Alec's lips pressed together into a severe, bloodless line. "Why did you ask for me?"

"Because, no matter what distance we've kept between each other, I knew you could never let me die. Not like this, when you know all of the history involved in this decision—"

"I really don't think it has anything to do with your family, Alec," Magnus interrupts. "The Lightwoods were Circle members once, but everyone has kept an eye on them since they took over the Institute. Besides, targeting you would only unearth something no one's discussed in decades."

"And not when I know you still love me," Alec finishes without missing a beat, meeting Magnus's eyes steadily. His chest is utterly still, the way it is when he's being completely sincere. No faking, no pretenses. "I knew that you would do everything you could to prove my innocence, because you would never be able to tolerate knowing failure meant they would stake me to the ground outside and leave me to boil in the sun. Pretend all you like, but you couldn't, Magnus. You could no sooner allow me to die than I could you."

"Alec…"

"Admit it," Alec demands, eyes hard and unyielding, as unfathomably deep as the dark, unexplored reaches of the ocean. "You still love me, and you could never let me die. That's why you've only ever been with mortals since you left me. That's why you came here tonight. No matter how much they love you and you claim to love them, they'll eventually die, and deep down you can accept that because you know your eternity still belongs to me. Subconsciously, I have always been your future."

"Nothing of mine belongs to you," Magnus says harshly, running an agitated hand through his hair. His fingers catch on the gel holding it up, tugging at his scalp. "I have mourned the death of every mortal lover I've had, because every one of them has been meaningful to me. Don't you dare trivialize them."

"How many of them have you ever stayed with until the end, Magnus?" Alec questions softly. "One, and she was long before me. Maybe once you thought you could find love anywhere and be okay with it, but you were breaking, Magnus. It wasn't until we found each other that you started to reassemble yourself. Before you left me, you had an eternity with someone you loved spread out before you. Faced with the loss of that, how could mortality ever have the same appeal?"

Blood is running down Alec's wrists in rivulets. For some reason this seems especially important, and Magnus can't stop watching them.

"If you didn't come to get revenge on the Circle, why did you come to New York, Alec?"

The chains holding Alec down rattle as he leans forward, wrists straining and sizzling. Magnus, heart leaping in his throat at the thought of Alec causing himself permanent damage, encloses them in his hands, healing them and laying down protection against future harm.

"Hearing you started a relationship with a Shadowhunter was the final straw," Alec admits. Their faces are so close their noses brush, and Magnus can count every individual eyelash framing Alec's steady, unrepentant gaze. "With respect to you, I've stood back for all these years, waiting for you to come to your senses about me, about us. But this I cannot allow."

"It's my life, Alec. You can't disallow me anything."

"You're right. I can't. But as someone who cares for you, I can tell you that you are being foolish to throw your love away on someone who is sure to hurt you. Even if she isn't using you like so many Shadowhunters do, she is Nephilim. It is their nature to die young, and you know that. I wasn't going to let you set yourself up for another fall like this, Magnus. Not without trying to give you a reason to stop."

"What reason?"

"This."

Then, there are lips against his, as cool and crisp as snowflakes. There are years and years of history in the way they move against him, as familiar and comforting as a longtime friend. In their desperation is over a century of longing and regret, and in their firm press a surety that this is the first kiss of countless more. The insistent swipe of Alec's tongue against the seam of Magnus's mouth feels like a promise for forever more, if only he would open himself up to it.

Magnus cannot remember closing his eyes, but figures that it had to have happened somewhere between Alec's explanation and the kiss, because he hadn't seen it coming. If he had, Magnus probably would have moved away, or stopped Alec before he could.

Yielding to the probe of Alec's tongue, Magnus cannot help but be glad he hadn't, pressing into the strong expanse of Alec's unmoving chest. He tightens his grip on Alec's wrists as Alec's tongue—cold to the point of scalding— brushes against his, moaning into Alec's mouth with all the desperation of a teenage virgin. The familiar pleasure-pain of it has his nerves singing in a way they haven't since Magnus broke everything off and turned away all those years ago, straight to a train station and out of Alec's life for what he thought would be forever.

Guiltily, he thinks that kissing Camille is nothing like this.

When they break apart, Magnus can feel Alec's smile against his cheek, and something inside of him he thought had died flutters back to life. He presses his face into Alec's neck, breathing in the comforting void of his scentlessness and all the places Alec has been, carried on his skin like cologne. Magnus knows he cannot look him in the eye. Not when he knows that with one glance Magnus will be down on his knees, swearing Alec an eternity he'd spent one hundred years deliberately avoiding.

"Alec, I'm with Camille. I can't do this."

Alec laughs again, that same amused huff of unnecessary breath. It stirs against Magnus's forehead pleasantly. Somehow, he has managed to maneuver one of his hands close enough to lie against the side of Magnus's head, fingertips just grazing his hair.

"I've waited for over a century, Magnus. I'm patient enough to play this out for however long it takes to bring you to your senses."

Briefly, Magnus tightens his hold on Alec, determined to soak in everything he has missed. He kisses the smooth column of Alec's throat, feels the softness of Alec's hair against his skin, and lingers on the oddly comforting constant of his still chest. This man is someone whose life is stretched out endlessly before him, cast away from the guttering but brilliant flame of mortality just as Magnus is. The roads of their lives are long, long enough that is only natural they would intersect again and again and again, especially with one of them so determined to ensure they will spend the rest of their travels together.

Magnus stands with a final, heavy breath, wrenching himself away from Alec like one would a band aid: as swiftly as possible to avoid prolonging the pain. He snaps his fingers and the door swings open, hitting the wall with a hollow clang. It is sloppy work for Magnus, and if his smirk is anything to go by, Alec notices.

"I'll see what I can do for you, Alec," Magnus says, throwing one end of his scarf over his shoulder so he has something to do with his hands. "I can't make any promises, but…" His voice trails away pathetically as he turns and begins to walk away.

"I meant what I said," Alec's voice calls out to him, echoing faintly against the stone hallways joining the Sanctuary to the Institute proper. "I'm not going to stand idly by while you bring yourself to ruin again."

Silence follows Alec's proclamation, long enough that Magnus thinks he has finished. Then, just before Magnus has reached the staircase, Alec adds, "I still love you, Magnus. I never stopped."

I know, Magnus thinks to himself, ascending the stairs to the Institute. He closes the door to the Sanctuary firmly behind him and leans against it for support, finally letting out the shaky breath he'd been suppressing since Alec first kissed him. The weight of endless days has begun to resettle itself firmly on his shoulders, and Magnus is not sure how to shake them off, if he can at all. To be honest, Magnus is not sure he would if he could.

After all, Magnus never stopped loving Alec either.