Whoop whoop, what is this? An update?! And it's even longer than the previous chapter? Thank you so much for the favs/follows and reviews! I really appreciate them and I'm really glad people actually like this! I really enjoy writing for this so! :]

Shout-out to my wonderful beta twillandbonnie, who once again helped me out and made sure this chapter is the best it can be. Thank you so much! ^.^

Disclaimer: I don't own these wonderful characters, sadly. Instead, they belong to Cassandra Clare. Which is probably for the best.

It was nearly two weeks after Alec's first encounter with Magnus when Jace told him he wanted to visit the brothel again, wiggling his eyebrows suggestively. Alec wasn't thrilled about having to return in the slightest, though; sure, now that he had met Magnus these visits would become more than him just standing guard outside a room (or, well, that's what he was hoping for), but they also filled him with dread. The fortnight that had passed between then and now had given him enough time to mull everything over.

He found himself thinking about a certain green and yellow-eyed man when he mentored the younger recruits or parried with his fellow soldiers during drills. His mind continued to wander when he stood guard and when he ate and when he talked to his sister and even to the king. He had actually started to avoid the soldiers' steam baths altogether, because he feared what exactly his mind would come up with in such an environment.

The effect that merely thinking about Magnus Bane had on him was simply ludicrous, honestly.

Sometimes, when his thoughts once again decided to stray, he wondered where Magnus had suddenly come from. Jace and he had visited the very same brothel countless times before; their regular visits had started shortly after Jace's official coronation which had been a couple of his name days and several moons ago. Even so, he had never seen Magnus sauntering about until their previous visit.

Perhaps he had been preoccupied during the times before that? It was a possibility. A possibility Alec didn't want to think about since imagining Magnus with anyone else, men or women alike, made him feel uncomfortable.

This infatuation with Magnus Bane was unhealthy; he was aware of that. He wasn't searching for a quick fling, for a night of unlimited passion in exchange for silver coins, just to be alone again after that. He wanted more, had always wanted more, and he was well aware that that wasn't something he could ask of Magnus (or of anyone, for that matter). Magnus only appreciated him for his body, perhaps for his wit. Even that was debatable and was only because his profession told him to show interest. If they had met in another place at another time, he probably wouldn't have looked twice at Alec when in passing. He was just not remarkable enough. Not for a man like Magnus Bane.

Which led him to another train of thought entirely. Shouldn't he have been charged for wasting Magnus's time? Surely even talking to him and occupying him for that short while they had spent together was more than enough reason for Magnus to ask something from him? He didn't know; he didn't have any experience with situations like these and he wasn't about to ask anyone else about it either, not Jace at least. That was for sure. He was quite certain that Jace had never left a prostitute unsatisfied, so he would be a useless source of information. He would just give Alec shit for not being able to do what he was supposed to.

"You're quiet," Jace observed, shaking him out of his reverie. He was looking at him with slightly narrowed eyes, a pensive look on his face that was not commonly seen on Jace's handsome complexion. The Golden King was sitting astride his strong golden stallion, and with the evening sun behind him, Jace seemed to glow completely gold indeed.

The courser was gnawing on its bit and heavily protesting the easy gait with which they cantered down the hill toward the city that waited beyond. The golden mane fanned out in the gentle breeze, and the wind swooshed as its golden tail swept from side to side in impatience. The stallion was strong with a majestic front hand and a lean back, the golden coat rippling with the movement of the strong muscles underneath. It wasn't Jace's only horse, but he preferred this stallion over his enormous black destrier, a horse that was a lot less hot-headed than this one was.

Alec's own mare was not quite as temperamental; the horse with her beautiful grulla coat was reliable and friendly. The rouncey was quick, fast and intelligent where Jace's stallion was all dumb muscle and barely-contained power. The mare was smaller than Jace's horse too, and the difference between their withers caused Jace and him to be of equal height, which was quite the rarity indeed since Alec had almost a head on him.

"Just thinking."

"You always are. You just need to let yourself go sometimes, Alec. Seriously, if you just blew off some steam more often you would be a lot more likeable and tolerable."

It was heart-warming that Jace thought so highly of him and his company. "I would say the same for you, only you are never likeable."

"I can call upon thousands of ladies who will readily disagree with that."

"And I have only myself, and yet I stand by what I said." Arrow, his horse, danced to the side and snorted in annoyance when Jace's stallion lashed out to nip in their direction. Alec placed a calming hand on the neck of his mount, threading his fingers through the dark mane. Jace laughed when he saw Alec's bemused expression.

"Don't be so difficult, Alec. You know you love me."

Alec shifted in his saddle and muttered back half-heartedly, "I most certainly do not. You're lucky you're family."

"Like I said, true love."

Fortunately, the brothel wasn't that far away, and they were dismounting their horses before that conversation could go somewhere no one wanted it to go to. The thought of what was waiting for him inside the brothel seemed to distract Jace's mind, and he let the subject go much to Alec's relief.

It wasn't that he was still in love with Jace. He hadn't lied to Magnus at all. That was genuinely how he interpreted his stupid crush on his friend and adoptive brother during his adolescence, and he knew it was a very plausible theory. But still, his feelings had seriously confused him back then, and discussing matters like those with Jace still made him feel very awkward. He simply preferred to discuss other matters with Jace and preferably not anything that had to do with feelings whether they be past or present.

Alec followed Jace inside and soon found himself in his usual place. It was busier today, though; upon entering the brothel, they had been greeted with the persistent scent of the exotic incense that they used to make the place feel more exquisite and pretentious than it actually was. They had passed through what could only be considered the common room, which was filled with the scarcely-clad women and their lovers for the afternoon, who were draped all over each other and created a harmony of too loud laughter that was too fake, too many strong tales that were told, and the clinking of cups and the sloshing of wine and the sound of flesh on flesh.

Alec was relieved when they had been escorted to another, more private area of the brothel, where a group of girls in flimsy dresses was already waiting. Alec didn't even bother to look at anything else than the ground in front of his feet as he assumed his usual position next to the doors that were, fortunately, closed on him.

Alec's alert eyes soon found the little boy who had been playing with the shutters a fortnight ago. The boy caught his gaze, ducked his head and scurried away. His red robes flashed and his tanned skin gleamed as he walked past a window, and then disappeared out of sight, leaving Alec without as much as a nod in his direction.

The temperature was as unpleasant as the time before, and after a short while he could feel the droplets of sweat running down his temples, sticking his hair to his face, before continuing their path down his back. He longingly thought about Arrow who was now probably nibbling on her hay in the cool stable complex and how he would much rather spend this time with her, galloping through the forest and battling the wind.

That thought was quickly erased from his mind when he could hear the soft tapping of bare feet against the marble staircase, and as his eyes rose to meet the newcomer, he could feel his heart skip a beat. Or maybe a handful. Descending the stairs was Magnus. Alec's imagination hadn't done him justice. He was far more handsome in real life. His attire was green today, his robe spun from what was undoubtedly the finest silk. It shone brilliantly in the sunlight, bringing out the green in his eyes and the caramel of his unblemished skin. It was untied, showing off Magnus's lean chest and stomach. Alec's eyes strayed even lower without him even realising until he caught himself and quickly forced them to focus on Magnus's beautiful face instead.

Magnus looked amused, his lips curled into a knowing smile, and one of his eyebrows raised almost tauntingly. His tongue poked out to lick his lower lip, and Alec could feel his cheeks grow hotter and hotter with each passing, too shallow breath. Magnus's black hair had been left loose today, and the soft strands brushed over his forehead as he walked.

"Hello there," Magnus said, grabbing Alec's hand in his own slender ones as he bent forward to kiss the back of it much like their first meeting. His eyes glanced upward cheekily as he once again dipped his tongue between Alec's index and middle fingers, and then traced a path across his knuckles before dipping between his middle and ring fingers as well, for good measure. Alec could feel himself growing uncomfortably hot everywhere, and he nearly groaned from whatever emotion was currently winning the battle raging inside of him at that moment.

He bit his bottom lip – which caused Magnus's gaze to trail downwards to his lips – and forced himself to get his act together. "Good afternoon," he managed to say, biting his lip again.

"Magnus."

"Alexander," Magnus purred in response, his green eyes narrowing ever so slightly in delight. "Care to join me?"

"Of course." He was pretty sure his feigned nonchalance wasn't fooling anyone, but he could at least try.

Magnus once again led him through the corridor, up the set of narrow stairs and down another corridor before easing the door open to the same room they had resided in the time before, making sure to comment on several stylish mishaps and other irrelevant topics along the way.

When Alec followed Magnus into the room, he was surprised to see that the interior of the room had changed as well. Its theme no longer fitted that of the rest of the brothel; Magnus had apparently gotten tired of the golds and reds and decided it was time for a change. The yellow cloth was still in place, though, turning the incoming sunlight more of a rich gold than a whitish yellow.

The rest of the room was now a plethora of greens. The room smelt strongly like sandalwood, stronger than it had the time before if Alec recalled it correctly – although his mind could not quite be trusted at the moment – and when Alec's gaze flickered back to Magnus again, he noticed that the man blended in perfectly with his surroundings.

"Feeling green today?" Alec asked, eyebrows raised, as he accepted the cup of wine Magnus gracefully offered him. The wine was, fortunately, a rich purplish red. He wasn't sure if he could handle it if that had been coloured green as well.

"Very much. I am happy you noticed. Every now and then, I just feel this overwhelming urge to redecorate." Magnus said, winking. Alec hummed in response, still looking around the room as he repeated Magnus's words in his head. He was sure there was some kind of hidden meaning here that he just couldn't seem to pinpoint. Magnus was trying to toy with him behind his back, and this green exterior was part of it. Magnus raised that one eyebrow again (which caused his blush to flare again, of course) as he lowered himself slowly onto his bed and stretched himself out with the grace of a feline, lazy and seductive and irresistible and careless all at the same time. It almost seemed like Magnus was a walking contradiction, sometimes.

Surely it wasn't possible for someone to be that captivating.

Alec slowly lowered himself into the armchair he had occupied the time before, lacking all the grace Magnus had and coming down with a loud thud, his mind still racing in order to come to peace with the current situation.

Magnus smiled at him. A smile that drove him mad with desire and want and just made his heart beat faster and his blood rush louder, and made it very hard for Alec to focus on anything else than the two eyes that were watching him intently.

"What are you thinking about?" Magnus's voice resounded, low and amazing, and Alec wondered if he would be able to feel the vibration of those words in Magnus's chest if he pressed his ear against it.

He decided that he most definitely did not want to share that particular thought. "Nothing."

He put his cup on the mantelpiece and started to untie his armour. "Is that so?" Magnus rose from the bed and approached Alec slowly. Probably to make sure Alec didn't startle and flee. Alec had half a mind to do just that but forced himself to focus on his armour instead.

"Nothing important, anyway. Just something about the Guard."

"You are not supposed to think about the Guard when you are here," Magnus said, a small pout appearing on his face. He put his cup next to Alec's before swatting the blue-eyed man's hands away. First, he cupped Alec's cheeks, his long fingers soft and gentle as they were splayed across Alec's pale skin. His eyes fluttered shut. He was too overwhelmed by the sensation, by how good and comfortable it felt. He wanted to feel those fingers all over his body.

"Sorry," he apologised, his eyes fluttering open again to meet Magnus's tender and thoughtful gaze.

"Don't apologise. Not with those beautiful eyes. You have the bluest eyes I have ever seen, do you know that? Like the summer sky when the sun is at its highest, like the sea where the beaches are the whitest. So bright and deep and intelligent. They twinkle when you smile, they spark with fire when you laugh. It is a shame you do not allow yourself to do that more often."

Alec was pretty much breathless by the time Magnus's fingers left his cheeks and chased his jawline before trailing down to his shoulders, setting to work on removing his armour for him. It was easier with two hands. It was easier when you could actually see what you were doing. It was simply an act of kindness to save him the trouble of having to do it on his own, but it seemed like so much more, somehow.

His body seemed to be convinced of that, at least; his breathing came more quickly than it should and his heart was beating in his throat, and there was something so intense about this situation that he just really didn't know how to handle it.

And, of course, Magnus noticed but kept quiet about it, a calculated kindness in him that Alec appreciated. It was already complicated enough to fight a battle with himself, let alone if Magnus decided to join in. Why did Magnus Bane have the ability to coax such a reaction out of him, anyway? Why couldn't he just keep it together like he was normally capable of doing? He hadn't kept his sexuality a secret by nearly orgasming every time a guy touched him, and yet here he was, on the brink of just doing that!

"So," Alec croaked, desperate for a distraction. Magnus was still working on his armour, but he raised an eyebrow in question. That eyebrow. That single eyebrow. Why did he have to do that? Alec nearly groaned but managed to disguise it as a heavy sigh instead. He wasn't sure whether Magnus was buying it. "Are you still interested in my story?"

"Very much."

"All right. We ended with me joining the King's Guard, did we not?"

"Just before that, actually. You told me you started your service, but never specified it."

"The ceremony is hardly important or noteworthy."

"To me it is. I have never heard anyone talk about it before. Not first-hand, anyway." That did come as a bit of a surprise; Magnus just came across as someone who knew everything, who had seen it all. The fact that Alec, with his considerably dull and uneventful life, had a piece of new information for him was unexpected.

"That is because it is not a big deal." Magnus finished his left arm and moved in front of him to tend to his right. His leg brushed against Alec's knees as he strode past. "The ceremony is pretty short. They hand you a ceremonial dagger with a handle made of bone and engraved with the emblem of the ruling House."

"House Herondale has a soaring eagle, no?"

"Yes. Black and white eagles with golden eyes on golden banners."

"And the Lightwoods have wolves, don't they? Although I do think a different species of animal would fit you better."

"Yes, the Lightwoods have wolves," Alec said. The black banners of his House with the pale, howling wolves on them were the sole reminders of the wealth and power the Lightwoods once had. Now, there were hardly any men who still bore the Lightwood colours, and his parents had been bound to Alicante for the last decades. "What animal fits better, then?"

"One that is more intelligent and cunning, more graceful as well," Magnus mused as he eased Alec out of his armour, placing it gently on the back of an unused chair like Alec himself had done the time before. Instead of returning to the bed, however, he remained standing. He fetched his cup from the mantelpiece and then proceeded to nurse his drink with a thoughtful glint to his eyes. "A feline, perhaps?"

"A mountain lion?"

"Perhaps," Magnus said, although he did not seem entirely convinced. "It would fit the trademark Lightwood eyes, would it not?" Alec was a bit surprised that Magnus knew so much about the Houses, apparently since he himself did not originate from the Kingdom of Idris. With his caramel complexion, he was probably from south of the Great Sea.

"But please do continue; you were talking about the ceremony," Magnus urged him on. He was leaning back ever so slightly, a grace in his long limbs and lean body that was uncommonly found in such a tall man. He was the feline here, Alec thought, with his relaxed body, the arrogance with which he held himself, his graceful movements, and his deep gold-green eyes.

"You cut your nondominant hand deeply and bleed onto this ancient, blood-soiled rock in the royal courtyard, and then the Lord Commander seizes the knife and carves a rune that looks like an eye into the back of your swordhand. You repeat the oath and that is it. The day after that, training and patrols start, and you will be working to the bone whilst nursing two wounded hands."

"Sounds very melodramatic," Magnus said, looking at Alec's hand before gently grabbing his right one. The thick scar on the back of it had grown pale overtime, but the shape of the voyance rune was still very much noticeable.

"It is. I never claimed it was not." His hand felt warm where Magnus held it. He reached out to fetch his cup from the mantelpiece to give him something to preoccupy himself with.

"You don't like the wine," Magnus stated with amusement when Alec took a sip. He must have pulled a face at the taste. "It is very good wine, though."

"The quality of the wine is not at fault," Alec replied. "It is solely mine. I have never cared much for it."

"More of an ale man?" When he shook his head, Magnus snorted and looked incredulous. "What then? Beer? Piss? Virgin's tears? Angel's blood? Or, perhaps even worse, tea?"

"I like tea," Alec admitted sheepishly.

"Of course you do." There was affection in Magnus's voice as he scoffed, though, so Alec wasn't too offended. He knew his drinking preferences were a bit uncommon, so a reaction like this wasn't unexpected. "Anyway," Magnus said, letting go of Alec's hand. "You were sixteen and they maimed you for the rest of your life and then worked you to the bone because they consider such a feat the epitome of loyalty? Such a waste of a perfectly good hand."

Alec shrugged. There were worse things than a scarred hand, and they both knew it. "It is an ancient ceremony. It also provides a sense of uniformity."

"It is absolutely ludicrous," Magnus said as if Alec's scarred hand was an offense against him as a person.

"Perhaps." Alec's eyes followed the other as he padded across the room, coming to a halt next to the window. His back was turned to his guest as he peeled the layer of yellow fabric away from the window, allowing the harsh sunlight to seep through. The silk of his robe shimmered magically under the caress of the sun, and the tips of his black hair glowed golden.

Alec rose himself to join him there, his cup once again forgotten on the mantelpiece. The view this room had was quite magnificent. The brothel had been built on the edge of the city of Alicante and on one of the highest points as well. Directly underneath the window lay an ancient square paved with aged cobblestones that had grown smooth through passing time and the many feet that had tramped them, and they gleamed dully in the afternoon sun. Beyond, the city itself loomed.

The Great Sea was visible on the horizon, where it was faded and blended in with the cloudless sky, making it impossible to tell where the sky began and the sea stopped. They couldn't see the castle, which was built on the other side of the brothel, but they could see the maze that was Alicante itself. It was a city built in a fashion that was characteristic to the larger cities that dotted the coastline of Idris, with many canals and arched bridges and houses made of white and yellow stone and fiery brick.

Alleyways extended from the main streets like the many legs of a spider, threading their ways past buildings small and gigantic, trivial and important. To the sides, mostly on the other side of the main river that divided the city, were the less fortunate neighbourhoods, but they were little more than brown specks in the distance, and further ahead also loomed the harbour. Alec also spotted the large spiked towers of the cathedral of the Angel, its marble blazing and glistening in the glare of the sun. The view was not quite as remarkable as the vantage points the towers of the castle provided, but it was still quite breathtaking nonetheless. Alicante was the largest and most impressive city in the entirety of Idris, and it lived up to its reputation.

"Where do you come from?" Alec found himself wondering aloud, and the silence that followed stretched on for such a lengthy period of time that he was certain he had apparently overstepped a boundary, had inquired about such a personal matter that Magnus was not only reluctant to answer but also unwilling. He was about to apologise for intruding when Magnus sighed. It was a deep, weary sigh that did not quite fit the image Alec had built of the man in his head.

"Somewhere far away," Magnus said, and the clouded look in his green eyes did everything to empower his words. "Across the Great Sea, and even further than that. Where exactly I come from hardly matters, though; my exact origin is perhaps a tale that ought to be told in a different place and at a different time. Even so, I can say that my homeland bears preciously little similarities to Alicante. It was warmer there, the kind of warmth that wafts up from the sea and coats the entire city in a certain kind of sluggishness, and flatter as well. Most of the houses were made of either wood or marble, there was no in between."

Magnus fell silent after that, lost in thought. Alec wondered if Magnus felt homesick or nostalgic, or if the memories from that place were so intense and awful that they pulled him under and refused to let him go. Of course, Magnus had told him a bit about himself already, but Alec sensed that there had been much more that Magnus wasn't telling him. It seemed like coaxing any kind of personal information out of him was not going to be easy, perhaps even impossible.

"Do you miss it?"

"Should I?" Magnus asked, his slender fingers releasing the cloth. The light fabric fluttered down, swaying gently in the breeze as it settled back in front of the window again, shielding the city from view. "It has been such a long time since I last saw it. I cannot quite remember what it smelt like, cannot quite remember what it looked like exactly. I have been on the road so frequently and for such prolonged periods of time, I am inclined to say that where I was born is no more my home than anywhere else I have been."

Alec mulled that over, silently. He wondered if he would miss Alicante if he were to leave it behind, and he supposed he would. He had never wandered far; his lady mother and lord father were bound to the castle in Alicante, and as such they had never travelled to visit relatives or acquaintances. His duty at the King's Guard kept him bound to the castle as well, or at least most of the time; during this time of peace and quiet the longest journey he had ever made was probably a hunting trip that lasted a fortnight due to unfavourable weather conditions.

Alicante was his home and the thought of having to leave and not knowing whether he would ever return at all did not sound like a particularly enjoyable prospect.

"Magnus," Alec said when the man once again seemed to be lost in thought, staring into the depths of his cup of wine. His empty cup of wine, Alec noticed, when he craned his neck ever so slightly.

Magnus looked up and seemed to regain his bearings. An easy smile took over his face once again and his eyes were once again keen and filled with a barely-concealed mirth. Magnus noticed many things, and he also seemed to carry a lot of faces with him. He could flicker from one expression to the next in the blink of an eye, and it was hard to tell what he felt or thought at times. Alec wondered whether that had to do with him not knowing Magnus for all that long, or if this was just an enigmatic characteristic of Magnus that would remain even if they did meet more often.

"Alexander," he said, his tongue delicately wrapping around the syllables. He had a way of saying Alec's full name that almost made it unrecognisable; he was used to being called Alec by practically everybody, and his lady mother, who still steadfastly called him by the name he had been given at birth, always barked it with such finality and harshness that it hardly sounded like a sweet name. Yet Magnus managed to make it sound soft and delicate like the most difficult of names pronounced in his mother tongue, whatever that might be.

"Would you mind?" Alec said, gesturing to the bed. Magnus's expression turned curious and puzzled as he gave his consent with a hint of laughter in his voice, and also seemed quite surprised when Alec took Magnus's hand to gently tug him along.

The bed was soft, and the mattress was stuffed with feathers; it dipped under their weight and sighed softly. The green blankets were soft and crisp and expensive, as were the plethora of pillows sprawled about the head end of the bed.

There was a strange sense of intimacy bound to them both sitting on the edge of the large bed, their fingers intertwined loosely and their thighs touching ever so slightly. Magnus had abandoned his wine cup near the window, and his free hand now lay on his lap, his long fingers relaxed.

"I was thinking," Alec started, and when he did not continue immediately, Magnus laughed.

"Well, I noticed. Stop frowning, beautiful. It gives you premature wrinkles - and that would most definitely be a waste."

Alec sputtered for a moment - it surprised him how easy Magnus was with words like those - and ran a hand through his dishevelled black hair, upsetting the smooth strands even further. Magnus ran a thumb over the raised skin on his hand, caressing the eye that bound him to the throne.

"That is not-"

"Stop it, Alexander. You are quite the frowner, we both know it. Do not even think about trying to defend yourself."

"I wasn't going to."

"So you admit you have a rather surly face?"

"By the Angel, you are just like my sister."

"Is that so? I think I should meet with her then, I am certain we would get along admirably. And if her looks are half as good as yours, then I would not mind being seen in her undoubtedly pleasurable company."

"She is prettier," Alec said, fighting the blush threatening to overtake his cheeks, and failing.

"I do not quite believe you," Magnus teased, lifting his other hand to caress Alec's flustered cheek. "You are very precious, after all. All the ladies here think so too."

"Oh," Alec said, not at all capable of handling compliments well. He wasn't used to being told he was handsome or pretty or even worth looking at, and Magnus's blatant support of that particular cause did embarrass and flatter him more than anything else.

"Anyway, you were thinking?" He was, at some point. Now, however, he found it terribly hard to muster a complete sentence without blanking. It took him some calming breaths before he had his act together again - honestly, the effect Magnus had on him was infuriating.

"I was thinking about kissing you, actually." Magnus rose a single eyebrow in surprise, but even though the red on Alec's cheeks was deepening with every passing second, he did not regret having said it. It was the truth, after all. He had been thinking about kissing Magnus and about doing a lot more with him, but he didn't think he could handle all of that. He did not even know how it worked, and he wasn't feeling very adventurous today. Or ever, probably.

"Is that so?"

"Yeah." It was such a juvenile confession to make; he was certain his siblings never discussed matters like this in such a way. He knew for a fact that Jace got plenty of action, and Isabelle had confided in him once or twice back when Lord Meliorn from the Seelie Isles was still courting her in that ambitious manner of his.

"Sometimes, Alexander," Magnus said, the fingers of both his hands intertwining with Alec's own. His fingers were long, slender and gracious and delicate, whereas Alec's were thick and strong and calloused, the hands of a warrior. "It is better to do something instead of to mull it over in your head countless times. You might find the results of your actions to be more pleasurable than your imagination can ever provide you with."

Alec supposed that was Magnus's teasing and complicated way of saying that he had been thinking about it, too. Their hands loosened their grips on one another as Alec pulled his own back, before he guided them up over Magnus's body and to his face where one of them rested on the back of his neck, threading through his black hair, and the other came to a halt on Magnus's chest, then his shoulder, and then his jaw. Magnus's own hands sneaked toward Alec's waist, ghosting over his muscular body and finally resting on his hips. He pulled his legs in underneath him to make the position more comfortable for the both of them, his long limbs as flexible as they were graceful.

It was safe to say that Magnus was indeed very right, Alec thought as their lips locked together. His eyes had fluttered shut and his mouth fell open slightly, something Magnus immediately took advantage of, and it wasn't before long that the kiss was briefly broken. He could feel the other man kiss his cheek and then his jaw, his soft lips tracing Alec's strong jawline as his fingers creeped up his body and a leg was thrown across his lap. Magnus straddled him then, sitting on his thighs, and pulled back.

Alec allowed his eyes to flutter open again, still feeling dazed as if under the influence of a spell, and his lips were graced by a smile as he was greeted by Magnus's smirk. Their lips locked together again, and at some point Alec fell back onto the mattress, but the kiss didn't break and he honestly couldn't care less. He hadn't a clue how long they had been making out when the door was thrown open again, and an annoyed Camille barged into the room. She was met with reluctance from both of them and a whiny Magnus when she announced the king was ready to depart.

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