Any descriptions of martial arts in this story is based on a knowledge of elementary physics, not martial arts. Do not try this at home. Why isn't there a category for "heartbreaking fluff"? Because that's pretty much what this chapter is...

Possible warning for triggers against violence because someone has bruises.

No copyright infrigement intended - this is just some extra Malec. Totally harmless.

TapTap

Magnus walked through the rooms of the new house. He loved New York. All the excitement, all the people, but Alec and him both had agreed that having a country home slightly closer than their charming villa by a private lake, an hour from Florens, was a good idea. He had gifted Alec with the house in Italy as a honeymoon present almost three years earlier, after which they spent said honeymoon in it, enjoying the privacy the house afforded. Much as they loved the place, it was a bit far, and though Alec - as always, really - put on a brave face, Magnus knew he missed the countryside terribly sometimes.

So Magnus had looked over his properties and remembered this charming little town, set between the mountains and the forests, and he had suddenly realised that Alec would love it here. It would be a good third homebase, for both of them.

And now here they were. The house was large, and Magnus was gratified to see that both movers and contractors had done a good job. Most of the furniture were brand new, but there were also a few pieces taken from storage, which belonged to Alec and hadn't fit into Magnus luxurious studio apartment. Both because of space limitations and - in some cases - because Magnus' sense of interior decoration could only take so much assault. He would do anything for his husband of course, but, loving and lovely as he was, Alec had never asked for him to accept his sometimes terrible taste to be one of them.

Smiling as he let out his cat - Chairman Meow - from his carrier and unclipped Alec's dog - Church - from his lead, Magnus looked forward to unpacking their clothes into the huge walk-in-closet he knew to be upstairs. Alec still dressed like he had before they married - bland and without any colour sense (or colour!) - but his total lack of interest in shopping meant that as long as he stuck to muted pieces, Magnus got to purchase all his husband's new clothing. And boy, did he take advantage of that fact.

"I'd ask how you need so many clothes, but I grew up with Izzy," Magnus turned to see his husband (and how he loved to call him that, it never got old) move the last suitcases into the hallway and close the door. "Your sister never got through to your sense of style, that's for sure," Magnus teased, but smiled. "I'd say I was sorry about that, but I can't. You're fabulous just as you are, baby." Snickering, Alec stepped into Magnus waiting arms, giving him a short kiss. "Hardly. Well, at least I married fabulous."

"Married someone fabulous," Magnus corrected his grammar, slightly puzzled. Alec didn't usually do anything but picture perfect. Alec grinned back, as if he'd stepped right into an intended trap, and maybe he had. He didn't mind. "No, pretty sure you're just plain fabulous embodied, "Alec smirked out. Magnus barely had time to object that, "Fabulous is never plain," before they kissed again. Magnus' last structured thought was that this move was already worth it.

They had made it up to what was to at least become their master bedroom, when Magnus was next able to think, and it was not as pleasant thoughts this time.

As Alec, without as much as a wince, Magnus noted, shred his shirt and sat down on the bed, several large, purple bruises came into view, immediately jolting Magnus out of his pleasant haze. "Oh, darling, what have you done to yourself?" he immediately cooed at the sight, dropping to his knees not for the reason Alec must have hoped for, but in order to look at the deep, painful-looking bruises more closely.

Alec sighed impatiently. "It is nothing, Magnus, I promise," he tried, even though it was of little use, and he knew that.

When they first got together – it had been during the time when Alec attended University - Magnus had normally just ignored any bruises Alec might have - well, after one very awkward conversation to explain just why he was so often bruised, anyway - only avoiding them faithfully and occasionally questioning how he'd gotten a particular one which stood out to him. Strange as that might seem, it was not unusual that there was a funny story involved, and it never got very dramatic.

After Alec was thrown out by his parents after coming out as gay, Magnus had been more relaxed about it, knowing for sure they could not be signs of abuse. Not that he didn't believe Alec when he said something like that had never happened, but, well... it made it yet a little bit easier to be at peace with it all. Lately, though, he had started to react badly to finding Alec with any sort of marks.

Well, perhaps not badly as such, as he never once got angry or anything like it, just – distracted. He didn't blame his husband for them, either, he just… worried a bit too much for Alec's liking.

Alec sighed and pulled his legs up on the bed as Magnus stopped examining his bruised chest and had started to button his own shirt again. He hated this. It made him feel self-conscious about his own body for the first time since puberty. It came with the territory as a martial arts specialist to sport bruises every now and again - just like Magnus got tension headaches eventually as a businessman - and for a while, he had been certain that his boyfriend, fiance and finally husband understood that very well.

It was true it had gotten worse with time, though. His brother, Jace, was not even remotely at the level he was, but as he complimented his training with weightlifting instead of archery, he was heavier when it came to muscle mass. The result of this was that Alec sported bruises even more often than he used to, these days, as nothing could persuade him to stop teaching and sparring with his brother. It wasn't like it was over the line to actually dangerous, or anything. And they always used the special, recommended sparring surfaces Magnus insisted on. He stubbornly kept that promise. Jace might have thought it stupid, but he strongly suspected Clary was as relieved about it as Magnus was.

"Don't be angry. I am only worried about you," Alec turned his head away from the hand Magnus was attempting to cup around his cheek, pleading with him not to take this badly, not because he was angry, but because it only made his frustration worse.

"I am not angry," Alec was a terrible liar, so he knew Magnus believed him when he said so. "Just frustrated." He tried to smile, not doubting that it came out as a grimace instead, "I feel like I have to chose between you and Jace, and it kills me," he admitted. He had grown up learning that men didn't show emotions, but Magnus was slowly getting that out of him. When it came to situations with just the two of them, anyway.

"Oh, baby," Magnus voice was low and raw, full of understanding and sympathy. "Neither one of us means to make you feel like that. I know I do not approve of your foster-brother, but that is in terms of him dating my god-daughter. I am legally obliged to hate the man." It did not make Alec smile, as he suspected that Magnus hoped, but he must have found it encouraging that he was clearly listening, because he continued. "I am not trying to come between you and your brother, nor will we let this come between you and me, but it worries me. It is not just the bruises, Alexander," as always, Magnus said his name like only he could, "you ended up in the hospital for a suspected fractured wrist just two months ago!"

"That wasn't from sparring with Jace," Alec pointed out automatically, though he wasn't sure if that mattered or not. He suspected that to Magnus, it really didn't. This was confirmed when he felt a kiss being dropped at his head and Magnus rose, only stating, "I'll make us some tea," and then he left the room.

Alec hated this part.