Many thanks to my ever-patient beta, Honestlydarkprincess, for having endless patience with my just as endless blabbering while writing this story. You're a gem, Kotyonok!
I do not own Alec or Magnus. Not even a tiny bit.
TapTap
Even with his usual level of flamboyancy, the warlock put some extra sway into his step as he sauntered towards his - well, at least he hoped he would someday be his - shadowhunter. Smiling for himself, Magnus put the glasses away on the coffee table without offering one to his pretty guest. Alexander was nervous almost to the point of fear, and this was clearly not the time for cocktails. Even non-alcoholic cocktails. It was the time for reassurances, and a taste - just a small taste, for now - of pleasure.
Magnus had honestly expected a little more resistance as he knelt across the young - so very young, but then, all mortals were - shadowhunter's lap, straddling him and pushing him against the backrest of the sofa he was sitting on. It was a good choise of furniture, Magnus noted absently - comfortable to share kisses in. He very much doubted the young mortal had chosen to sit there for that reason.
With a soft sigh he was probably not aware of himself, the shadowhunter gave in to Magnus entirely, just dropping his head back. Magnus knew then that he could have done anything to Alexander in that moment, and he would not have been able to resist him. That was the moment he firmly scrapped all plans he might have once had (and he was not so sure that he ever did) of any kind of seduction at all. Alexander was allowing himself to be vulnerable - maybe he had little choise in the matter at this point - and the last thing Magnus was going to do was take advantage. Instead, he dropped the sweetest kiss he was capable of offering onto Alec's lips and started to very tenderly open his shirt at the neck, not able to resist that one, small, temptation.
The warlock continued to very gently tease his guest for some time, just noting what soft touches - strictly above waist and entiely chaste, if not unromantic - summoned a reaction from the too-tightly-strung shadowhunter, mumbling the first things he could think of into his ear, mostly random, elementary nonsense about magic. Alec seemed a little less alarmed, and that change happened quickly, from one moment to the next, as if he suddenly realised that Magnus wasn't going to hurt him, wasn't even going to push him for anything.
The warlock shuddered to think of what people must have expected from him in the past - a soldier, without feelings or personality - to mould him into someone so closed off and seemingly unable to connect even with himself, as if he wasn't even properly feeling his own body. Except, of course, knowing how to use it effectively as a weapon. As if that was all he was good for: a tool for somebody else's purposes. That thought made Magnus want to weep.
Pretending like he wasn't thinking that, Magnus started up several lines of conversation throughout the early hours after sundown, realising quickly that it was mostly military tactics and archery which his guest could offer expert opinions of, or, indeed, was the most interested in.
He took care to make sure the younger man ate - even staying on his own side of the dinner table, when they got that far, at a respectable distance. It lasted for all of a dozen minutes before he could no longer resist moving closer, but at least he tried.
After dinner - Magnus was pleased to note that his guest had almost finished his plate, nerves aside - he steered them to end up in his library. He still kept a vast collection of the drawings Da Vinci had made of various military contraptions, and as he had thought, they were of great interest to his guest, making him relax and finally talk animatedly, in his element amongst demonstrations of tactics and military ability. Magnus leant against a bookcase and smiled, just enjoying the sight and letting Alec take his time.
As dawn rolled in, Magnus sat in his favourite settee, leaning back with a drink in his right hand, and his left buried in the soft, touchable hair of the shadowhunter who was resting peacefully, stretched out beside him, head in his lap. He could certainly get used to that.
Unhappily, he was not allowed to. That blond shadowhunter, Jace, came and collected his parabatai during the mid-morning, and Magnus did not see any of them again for a while. When he was next contacted, it was not by Alexander - Valentine's abominations had breeched the sanctity of the shadowhunters' New York base, and he was asked to come and help them reinforce their protections. Powerful wards like that took a warlock like him, so their choise was obvious.
He had hoped to see who he had indeed now started to think of as his shadowhunter - making sure to give them the best protection he could offer as he knew he and his sister resided here, not to mention Jocelyn's little girl - but his breath caught for all the wrong reasons when he did come across "his" Alexander.
Shy, adorable and lovely, as ever, Alec had a deep gash under a sloppily made bandage, his body screaming out its distess loudly enough for Maugnus to blanch even though the man was smiling. That made Magnus want to scream himself - who had taught him that he was not allowed to act on, to feel, pain? Why did he not get to rest, if he needed it? Why did he think this was how the world was supposed to be? He deserved better.
Restraining himself from expressing any such notion, Magnus instead offered, "a little bit of warlock TLC". Stopping Alec from a responce the was sure he did not want to hear, he speficied, "free of charge". He watched Alec struggle with himself, then look around, slightly covertly, as if checking that they were alone. They were, by then. Magnus had to restrain himself from grinning victoriously as the shadowhunter finally nodded.
"Do remove your shirt - you have nothing I haven't seen before, you know," he flirted, not too outrageously he hoped, as Alec had closed the door to his bedroom some minutes later, leaving Magnus to spread his magic componants out on a table next to the bed. He was slightly surprised to hear the shadowhunter laugh, pulling his shirt off without hesitation.
Secretly, Magnus was thrilled to see Alexander so open, so relaxed. During their first drinks, he had been unsure, during their semi-romantic night together nervous, even almost frightened at first. Now, however, he was obediently lying in his bed, letting Magnus straddle him, without showing the least sign of being nervous or ill at ease.
Maybe, the warlock speculated silently for himself as he unwrapped the insufficient bandage - showing a truly ghastly, gaping wound - it was simply because Alec knew what to expect from him this time. There were not, like before, any fightening unknowns, and - with some luck - it was not Magnus himself who he had been unsettled by. It did not currently seem like it had been, at any rate, as he was quickly turning almost bonelessly relaxed under Magnus' careful, tender touches, and the warlock was careful with this show of trust, not that Alec wasn't right, though. He would never do anything which could unsettle or even be interpreted as seduction: not when Alec was this worn out, vulnerable, trusting. He would take care of him, and that was all. He felt honoured to be allowed to.
