A/N: ...hey. This is kinda awkward, hu? Yeah, it's been a while. I'm sorry I didn't call. I've just had a lot of STUFF to do. I'm just now learning how to type, so it's making the writing process as slow as it can possibly be without coming to a complete stop. I've got a TON of stuff for you guys that I just need to finish up, so don't give up on me yet. Thanks to all those who've been this patient with me and put up with all my weirdness and bad jokes and grammatical errors and inexistent plot lines and ANYHOO here's your new chapter, and I just want to apologize in advance. I''m not sure where this came from.
xXxXxXxXxXx
At precisely eight o'clock that morning, Alec woke up, stretched, took a look out the window and thought, Wow, what a beautiful day. I think I'd like to go for a walk with Izzy and Jace and get some of those breakfast burritos McDonalds has, maybe kick a little demon ass, maybe, if the weather is still permitting and I'm not soaked head-to-toe in ichor, head over to Magnus's while my testosterones are still flowing and remind that hip-hugger-wearing warlock why he's been walking with a limp for the last few days. Then, as he was going to go get dressed, he caught a glimpse of the calender, and todays date, which had been circled and covered with urgent, red sharpie, and he remembered what today was.
Aw, hell.
At precisely eight thirty, Alec got up off the floor and decided not to throw himself out the window.
He put on his nicest clothes (no holes; no stains; minor wrinkles; not stinking in a way that would be painfully obvious if he just hunched over a little, he reassured himself) and combed his hair four times, then ruffled it up with his fingers, frustrated with society's obsession with the beautification of dead cells, and was starting to understand Brittany (like, really deep into her soul, and stuff) when he figured he could probably make his hair look acceptable if he'd just suck it up and frickin' wet his comb like his sister had told him to do a million times.
At precisely nine o'clock, he got a panicked call from Magnus, asking if he'd seen his rhinestone green platforms anywhere to which Alec had replied fuck, which, of course, fueled an hour long, one-sided barrage of awkward sex jokes, laced with the perfect amount of first-dinner-with-the-parents nervousness to completely and utterly destroy whatever lining his stomach membrane had managed to build in the last hour (because if Magnus was nervous, then Alec sure as hell better be nervous too).
At precisely nine ten, Alec got up off the floor (so it hadn't exactly been an hour long phone call. So what? Like you've never exaggerated the truth to make for a better sounding run-on sentence —seems to be quiet a few of those here, hu?).
At precisely ten o'clock, Alec's parents arrived, smiling and awkward and ready as they'll ever be.
At precisely ten fifteen, Alec began to calm down.
Then Jace said he wouldn't be able to make it to dinner because he was going to go watch Clary get her learners permit (which means that Jace would rather sit at the DMV than sit through a dinner with his parents, him, Izzy, and Magnus —though, really, Alec couldn't blame him. He was currently praying for someone, anyone, to take him to the DMV).
Then Isabel said she couldn't make it to dinner because she'd rather stick her head in the oven then endure the torture she knew this dinner was going to be.
At precisely ten thirty, Alec finished setting the table.
Magnus would be here at twelve.
oOoOoOoOo
Alec hovered around the table, rearranging forks and glasses for the fiftieth time. From the kitchen, he could here the sounds of his mother cursing and grumbling. Alec had offered to cook, but she had insisted, and he had given in —though his resolve started to crumble when he heard the tell-tale sound of pots and pans clattering to the ground. He winced, and glanced hesitantly at the kitchen door, as though he'd see some gelatinous beast of his mothers creation seeping out from between the cracks.
He was about to push open the door, to make sure whatever it was his mother was cooking wasn't trying to kill her, when a loud gong-like sound reverberated through the entire house. Alec's shoulders sank and he felt his stomach jump into his throat. He glanced at his watch. It was only ten fifty-six. Could that be Magnus already?
The entire house seemed to be holding it's breathe in anticipation. From inside the kitchen all sound had ceased. His mother stuck her head out the door. "Is he here already? I'm not done yet." There was only a slight note of panic in the demon killer's voice. From behind the kitchen doors, something started to sizzle and pop. "Stall him!"
What an awful, awful thing for a mother to tell her son to do to his boyfriend, Alec thought, aghast. But he just nodded, and headed towards the front door and tried his hardest not to notice all the open, enticing windows he pasted on the way there.
He was so nervous, he didn't even try to compose his face until the door was already half-way open. A distraught, shaky, half-assed smile tugged at his lips, a little too late to be convincing.
Magnus stood in the doorway with his hair just as spiky and glittery as ever. He wore a frilly, black-and-white striped shirt with a piratey\frock coat-like thing thrown over it. He had tiny black shorts that were pulled up past where other people had belly-buttons, and an array of belts and buckles adorned his waist. His tan legs were smooth and hairless under his ripped up fish-nets and knee-high boots.
Alec wasn't aware that he was talking out loud until Magnus asked, "Why what?"
Alec closed his eyes tightly, feeling a migraine throbbing at his temple. "Couldn't you have toned it down, at least a little? For me?"
Magnus looked like he was going to protest, probably with a this is toned down but instead he just sighed and snapped his fingers. When the smoke cleared, Alec saw that he was still wearing the black-and-white shirt and the frock coat-thing, but he'd traded out the shorts for a pair of slightly more modest black jeans. "Better?"
Alec smiled and took his hand. "Thank you."
Magnus grinned and winked. "I'm still wearing the garters."
Alec blushed and looked down at their entwined fingers, smiling all-the-same. Baby steps, they both thought simultaneously. And for a moment, they leaned close together and their lips were only a centimeter apart when Magnus's coat began to mew.
Alec pulled away and gave him one of those looks Magnus was beginning to associate with remind me again why I'm going out with this freak.
Magnus laughed and reached into his pocket. "Oh no, don't be alarmed. It's not what you think."
"Oh good. For a second I thought you brought your cat with you."
"Oh. Well, in that case, it's exactly what you think." And Magnus plucked chairman Meow from his coat pocket and dropped him in Alec's waiting hands (by 'waiting hands' we of course mean 'swift hands that caught him inches above the floor'). "Cat sitters are hard to find on such short notice, you know—"
"We've been planning this for weeks."
"—and you know how I hate to just leave him alone for unforeseeable amounts of time—"
"You loose him weekly."
"—and besides that, how would I feed him—?"
"You're a warlock."
And so, the pair continued down the hall in a similar manner, fighting-but-not-really-fighting in that cute, quirky, romantic-comedy way. And we would probably follow them, like the creepers we all are at heart, but this story isn't about them. No, not this time. (I'm serious, you guys, quit looking at me that way)
From his spot on the floor, where he'd been dropped, Chairman Meow ruffled his whiskers and hissed, except, now, it sounded a lot more like "bastards".
Alright, lets do this.
oOoOoOoOo
Chairman Meow, being born and raised on the slutty side of New York, was, he liked to think, a mixture of Mimi from Rent and Estella from Great Expectations. Classy, but with a crazy side; he was a wild animal after all. Though, it's not like he went around raising his tail for just any cat. Only the very special cats got access to his palace.
From down the hall, Chairman Meow heard the pitter-patter of approaching paws, signaling he was not alone. He turned around just in time to see a dark furred Persian cat stick it's head around the corner,
Church, he would soon learn, was not to be one of those lucky cats.
oOoOoOoOo
Church wasn't stupid. He knew there were other cats in the world. He'd seen pictures of them, heard the humans discuss them, even seen glimpses of them from some of the various windows of the house. He'd not, however, counted on today being the day he'd seen one up close.
If he'd been informed, if he'd of been told in advance this day was coming, he'd of had a more eloquent speech prepared. An introduction. He'd swagger in and smile and say something like Welcome, my my, it's been a while since we've had visitors around these parts, allow me to introduce myself, I'm Church, and this, if you weren't aware, is The Institute.
Something like that, anyway.
Anything, really, other than what he actually said, which was more long the lines of, "Who the hell are you?"
The cat in question just stared at him for the longest time, mouth hanging open with a look of almost disgust on his furry white face. "Oh my God," He said under his breath in a slightly feminine, slightly New Yorkian slur. "I've stumbled upon something rather amazing here, haven't I?"
This is a mistake this is a mistake this is a mistake this is a mistake "Excuse me?"
"You're," The other cat started in on him, slinking lazily towards him like he was an injured mouse. "You're one of those pampered, never-set-foot-on-the-street-in-my-life cats, aren't you? One of those, born-behind-the-sofa cats, am I right? Wow," The other cat was about an inch away from him now, circling him with unashamed curiosity. He bluntly started sniffing him, as though it were a perfectly normal thing to do —and, who knows? Maybe, for street cats, it is. "I've only ever seen cats like you on TV. . ." The tiny, furry thing went on, sniffing the length of his tail in a way that was completely and utterly awkward and embarrassing. It would seem, Church thought to himself, that I've still got quiet a lot to learn about the world yet.
"Er," Church cleared his throat and struggled to regain his composure. "I'd like to be the first to welcome you to the Institute. My name is Church. I-."
"HAHAHAHAHA!"
Church blanched, and took a few hesitant steps back from the convulsing little hairball. "What?" He snapped, feeling irritated when the other cat still didn't say anything. "My God, you stupid little rodent, tell me what's so funny?"
"Y- Your name!" The other cat shrieked in delight. "It's s- so fitting!" With that, he collapsed into a fit of hysteria that either completely infuriated Church or deeply worried him (he seemed to be having trouble breathing).
"Well, if you didn't have any pressing issues with me," Church started to back away down the hall. This was becoming more trouble than it was worth. If this was what other cats were like, then Church certainly didn't want anything to do with them. "Then I'll just be on my way."
"Wait! Wait up!" The other cat pounced after him, falling easily into step beside him, his eyes narrowing dangerously, like Church was a bowl of creme left unguarded. "I didn't mean to offend you —it's just been a while since I've interacted with anyone that I wasn't planning to—." He stopped abruptly, a gave a little, fake cough, looking away.
"Have relations with?" Church finished dryly.
"Something like that," He licked his whiskers mischievously.
"So you're one of those types of cats," Church sighed and continued on his way, feeling a little let down. His first encounter with another one of his own species and it had to be a floozy. "I should have known. How did you get in here, anyway?"
"Food Provider brought me," The other cat said looking surprised, as though it should be obvious. "Didn't you see him?"
Food Provider? Church thought to himself. How cute. "I'm not sure. . . By the way, you never told me your name."
"Oh," The cat said. "It's Chairman Meow."
Church wasn't accustomed to laughing, so it took him a minute to understand exactly what the sound coming out of his throat meant.
"WHAT?" Chairman Meow snarled. "You got a problem, you bastard?"
"YOU!" Church exclaimed, pointing a trembling paw at the powder puff before him. "HOW DARE YOU MAKE FUN OF THE NAME CHURCH! HOW DARE YOU! YOU'R NAME IS CHAIRMAN MEOW!"
"I'm aware of that," Chairman Meow said, looking down. If you looked close enough, you might be able to see a slight flush under all that fur. "It's not like I got to choose it."
Church didn't answer. He was too busy laughing.
". . .my friends call me Chair. . ."
This was how the hatred was born.
oOoOoOoOo
"So, Mrs. Lightwood, what will we be eating tonight?"
A little panicked, Mayrse shot an accusing look at her son, who merely shrugged, and said in a tight voice, "Oh, it's a bit of a surprise. . . It will be ready any minute now." She laughed a little manically.
Magnus rubbed his stomach in a completely uncharacteristically ungraceful gesture that made his boyfriend do a double take. "I can't wait. I'm starving."
He's making small talk, Alec realized with a stab of love that nearly choked him. Bless him —he's making small talk for me.
Suddenly, a gong-like sound reverberated through the Institute making Alec jump and feel queasy before he remembered that Magnus was already here and the only thing he had to worry about now was getting through the evening without literally dieing of embarrassment.
Magnus shot him a look that seemed to say What the hell, Alec? Anyone else you invited to meet your parents tonight?
Alec just shrugged in a way he hoped could be interpreted as The hell should I know? You invite your friends to come party?
"Oh, I'll go get it!" Mayrse shot a glance at her son that could easily be recognized by anyone who'd know her as long as he had as Distract him! I ordered Chinese food and need to sneak it into the kitchen and onto the good plates to make it look homemade!
Alec took a deep breath and turned back to Magnus. "Why don't you have a seat. I'm going to go-."
"You haven't started without me, have you?" Robert Lightwood walked in, removing his coat and draping it over the back of his chair. "It's good to see you again, Magnus." He offered his hand to the warlock, who took it with a second to spare, as though he thought it might be snatched away if he didn't seize this opportunity.
"It's good to see you again as well, sir." Magnus was extremely charming when he wanted to be. "It has been a while, hasn't it? Sorry I couldn't come over sooner, I've had a lot of work to catch up with after being in Iris for soon long." It was true; Magnus had stayed in Iris months after the battle had been over. Mostly, he healed the wounds the stele's hadn't been able to and worked on restoring the wards, but he'd also been assigned to help the new Head Warlock contact others around the globe that hadn't already flocked there with the news that they had Clave recognition. It had been monotonous, tiring work, tracking them all down —the one's who were in hiding, the one's who were afraid of the Clave, those who didn't even know there was a Clave (Warlocks have proven to be a forgetful people). But Magnus did his work quietly and dutifully, and only set to nagging and whining when Alec would steal into his room in the middle of the night to hold his head in his lap, rubbing his temples and running his fingers through his hair.
"Oh, it's quiet all right, I certainly understand. My, the last time I saw you, you were, I believe, smuggling my son out his bedroom window in the middle of the night." He smiled brightly, sitting down. "So Alec, what's mom cooked up for us tonight?"
"I'll go get the wine." Alec said, disappearing into the kitchen.
"I'll help." Magnus said, making to follow him.
Alec whipped around, glaring at his boyfriend with a look of No way! We are not aloud to be in a room alone together until my parents are at least ten miles away.
Magnus stared back at him hard, silently saying Don't you dare leave me alone with him, you asshole.
"Say, Magnus," Robert called from the table. "I never did get the chance to ask you before how you and my son met." He smiled a very sharp smile. "Why don't you tell me about it?"
Go! Alec's eyes screamed at his motionless boyfriend.
You owe me for this, Magnus mouthed before turning around and saying, "It's actually a very interesting story, sir. . ."
Blowjobs for a week then, Alec thought, shrugging, turning into the kitchen so he could finally breath.
oOoOoOoOo
Padding silently through the halls, Church showed Chairman Meow around, if only to have something to fill the long hours they'd been forced to spend together.
"And, if you'll look to your right you'll see yet another bedroom."
"Fascinating," Chairman Meow sighed. "And before you go on, let me take a guess as to the next three doors; bedroom, bedroom, bedroom. Am I right?"
"This place was meant to house injured or otherwise deterred shadowhunters. There are bound to be countless rooms specifically for this purpose. When it was first constructed in 17-."
"Yeah yeah yeah. Very interesting, but let me ask you a question." Church squeezed his eyes shut, but stopped and waited. God knows how much more time they had ahead of them. Best not to start picking fights. When no immediate denial spouted from Church's lips, Chairman Meow went on. "What do you do for fun around here?"
"Fun?" Church asked, as though he'd never heard of it before. (And, who knows, maybe he hadn't. Cats on this side of the street seemed to be way more sheltered, Chairman meow thought.) He thought about it for a minute, then, said, rather slowly, "There are plenty of things I've found to occupy myself with."
"Like?"
Church smiled a little distantly somewhere just to the left of Chairman Meow's paw. "I'm rather fond of reading. And there are lots of book here."
I should have known it'd be something like that, Chairman Meow thought, rolling his eyes. "Never mind."
oOoOoOoOo
"This is delicious Lo Mein you've prepared for us tonight, Mrs. Lightwood."
"Why thank you Magnus. You can call me Mayrse if you'd like."
"Ha ha. Alright then; Mayrse."
Insert more patronizing laughter here.
Alec stared duly at his fork, trying to remember the location of the vital vein in his throat. It'd be easy enough to skewer himself with it, except that would leave Magnus to fair for himself. There's a lot to be said for the fact Magnus's safety meant more to him than his own dignity.
He was quietly humming Please, Please, Please Let me Get What I Want under his breath when his mother stood up, saying, "Just let me clear out these dishes, and we'll have some dessert."
I didn't know Baskin Robbins delivered, Alec thought with a furrowed brow. "Let me help, mom."
"Oh no, Alec, I—."
"No, it's okay." He smiled apologetically at Magnus, who's somewhat frozen smile could be interpreted as fuck you asshole. "We'll be right back."
oOoOoOoOo
Alec usually ended up with dish duty. They had a system worked out, but it was rarely enforced. Jace simply didn't do it, no excuses, no tricks. He knew it grated on Alec's nerves to see a sink full of dishes (it also attracted ants and cockroaches, which they all hated), and that it would only be a matter of time before he did them for him. He was evil and manipulative that way, but it was okay (we've been over this; first, Jace was a weird kid, then a crush, then an excuse, then a brother). Isabel did it every once in a while, but every time she did, Alec ended up cleaning them a second time anyway (she didn't actually scrub them, she just filled the sink with soap water, left them for an hour, then dried them. And she left smears). He'd grown accustomed to dishes duty, and didn't mind it so much anymore (he was also usually responsible for Magnus's dishes, but that was okay too, because, well, you know: the sex [Oh yeah, and all that love stuff. That too.]).
It was comfortable to stand next to his mother, scrubbing plates and setting them in the drying rack. His mothers brow was scrunched up —she'd probably only done the dishes manually two times in her life, including right now. He'd tried telling her to go prepare the desserts while he finished up, but she wouldn't hear it. His mother was headstrong like that, and it made him smile to see her struggling with dried soy sauce when she could behead a two-story tall demon with nothing but a high feel shoe and a tree branch.
"Alec," Before he even had time to mentally curse, his mothers hand gripped his under the water. Alec couldn't deal with deep moments like these, unless he was drunk and he couldn't see that happening at the moment. "He makes you happy?" She asked quietly, staring at him intently.
Alec thought about all the irritating things Magnus did just to get under his skin. He thought about their first few weeks together, all the fights, all the horrible things they said to each other, how it just hadn't seemed worth it. He thought about the years to come, when he would grow old and Magnus would continue to stay young and beautiful. Because, in the end, this was just a pleasant dream, wasn't it? They couldn't go the distance. It was just an amusement for the warlock until the clock struck midnight on Alec's pale little flicker of life.
Of course he loved Magnus. He'd gladly wade through all the shit they put each other through for just the chance to hold that flashy idiot's hand. But what did it matter in the end? What did they have to show for it?
"Of course I love him," He said quietly, not looking at his mother. "And I will love him. . .forever."
"Then why are you crying?"
oOoOoOoOo
Church and Chairman Meow sat by the huge ornate doors, each waiting for their respective masters to relieve them of the burden they'd been forced to spend time with. Neither spoke or even so much as looked at one another. Church was too busy grinding his fangs down to curves to talk, while Chairman Meow was wondering if he could land on his feet after a three story drop.
When Church heard approaching footsteps and voices he had to fight down the urge to outright pounce on his young master. Alexander Lightwood came down the hall with his beau in toe; they were talking animatedly, but he couldn't tell if they were happy or angry from this far away, and, frankly, he didn't give a fuck. All he wanted was his sweet, sweet solitude back.
"I think they like me," Said the more fantastically dressed of the two (the Food Provider, he assumed).
"My dad threw a fork at your head." Alexander replied rather duly. "Sorry about that, by the way."
"I'm going to choose to believe that that was an accident."
"If thats what makes you happy. . ."
"What's the matter with you?" Magnus Bane grabbed Alexander by the shoulders, spinning him around to face him. "You've been like this since dinner. Tell me what's wrong."
Ah fuck. Not this. Not now. You're so close —just take your stupid cat and go home. Please, just a few more steps. I'm begging you. Have your silly little lovers quarrel some other time. It hurt so bad not to say it out loud. Church's claws began digging into the floor.
"Magnus," Alec said to the floor. "What are we doing? Yeah, we patched things up now, but what does it really matter?"
Magnus cringed. It mattered to him. It meant everything to him.
"Will it matter in ten years? How about thirty? When I'm old? When I'm dying?" Alec was almost screaming now, still staring at the floor that wouldn't judge him for his tears, so he didn't see when Magnus's face softened into a serene smile. "Will it mean anything to you when you get tired of spending your days watching me die?" A sob in his throat nearly choked his words to incomprehension. Finally, he looked up at his boyfriend. "I don't want you to forget me but I also don't WHY ARE YOU SMILING LIKE THAT YOU COCK? I'M POURING MY SOUL OUT TO YOU, YOU KNOW."
"Alec," Magnus said softly, cupping his flushed face gently. "We don't have to worry about that yet."
"What do you—."
"This is a crack chapter." Magnus said. "We can just take it easy for now."
Alec felt a flush curl through his body. "Do you really mean that, Magnus?"
Magnus smiled down at him endearingly. "From the very bottom of my heart."
Insert passionate embrace here.
"Hey," Alec said once Magnus had unglued his lips from his face. "I think our cats are trying to kill each other."
"Naw, they're just playing. Aren't they cute? But no seriously. Pants. Off. Now."
