When the Ball Drops
by ariviand

Chapter Ten: Warlock

Alec stood inside the foul-smelling entryway, cursing under his breath. The chill seeping through the shoddy front door left him shivering. He had forgotten how useless the old sweaters were in the way of insulation; too many porous holes for the wind to pass through, the cold blasting his chest through the layers of frayed wool and the cotton shirt he wore beneath.

Alec scowled at the row of metal call boxes. A moment ago, thinking about his lack of coat, Alec realized something else he had left behind last night in his rush to leave the party - his key to the door. So not only had he commuted from Manhattan to Brooklyn, frozen by the cold outside without the proper outwear, he now stood locked out of his boyfriend's apartment. How embarrassing and frustrating and inconvenient.

Alec was going to have to buzz Magnus's flat, something he really wasn't planning on. He didn't want to do it. But short of breaking the door, how else was he going to get inside in order to grab his coat?

Damnit. Damnit. Damnit.

Alec scowled at the only name inscribed on the wall, the metal nameplate mark Bane.

You're going to wake him up. And if you do that, then it won't just be a quick grab and go mission. You're going to have to talk to him. Are you ready for that?

No, he wasn't. He hadn't rehearsed what he was going to say - he had no idea what he would say or even feel as soon as he was in front of Magnus again. That part made him nervous, not knowing what to do or it he'd be able to pull back. Because you did so well with Jace, just imagining Magnus's face.

Alec ducked his head, tucking his chin into his neck for a moment, eyes clenched shut. This is not happening. How easy would it have been if he'd just carried the key in his back pocket? Or even on his key ring, like all the others? Why would he keep the one key tucked inside the lining of his only coat?

You know why.

Alec made a sound in his throat, shaking his head, not wanting to think about it.

Last summer:

"I have to go," Alec protested for the third time, fumbling blindly for the door knob.

But just like every other time, the words were barely out of his mouth before Magnus was lifting his head and stealing another kiss. These kisses weren't like the previous ones, the way they'd been kissing when they were still curled up on the couch, Magnus's long, sharp-edged body resting languidly above Alec's chest, legs stealing a place between Alec's thighs, their socked feet brushing. Other than the lack of shoes, they had been fully clothed, just kissing and touching, curious fingers skirting over shirts, bunching material, nails exploring, testing sensitive skin. Those kisses had been warm, and soft and teasing.

These kisses were impatient and persuasive and harder, a desperate plea, trying to convince the shadowhunter to stay a little longer. These were the greedy kisses of a man who knew what he was about, trying to persuade an untried teenager who had trouble thinking every time their mouths connected. It's like Alec's thoughts went into a vacuum and swirled around, but they were just immaterial specks that didn't make sense. He couldn't even talk when Magnus was kissing him; he didn't want to talk.

But Alec couldn't stay. It was getting late and he had to get back before anyone worried, before anyone wondered where he was. A half hour walk to clear his head sounded reasonable. Over an hour, still missing - and not even checking his cell, to boot, that would raise questions. No one knew he had left Manhattan. They definitely had no idea he was kissing Magnus Bane, or that the High Warlock of Brooklyn had been kissing him almost since the moment he walked through the door forty-five minutes ago.

Alec felt sure his mouth looked thoroughly abused, that his lips were probably flushed and swollen, if not from the nuzzling on the couch, than the crushing kisses he received when he tried to get up from the couch, or the next round when he had struggled into his jacket and repeated the warning, and now, at the front door, when he tried to stress to Magnus that he really, really needed to leave.

Magnus didn't look any different. His lips were fine; his lipstick wasn't even smudged. When he lifted his head, Magnus smiled down at Alec, looking confidant in his small victory.

"Magnus," Alec repeated, trying to be firm. But it came out too breathy. He wasn't used to calling the warlock by name.

What, you can kiss him just fine, but just saying his name makes you nervous? Alec swallowed, glancing away.

"Yes, darling?"

"I'm serious. I've got to go," Alec repeated, turning around and reaching for the doorknob once more, his boot accidentally bumping into the door in his haste. Alec cringed at his clumsiness, face burning.

"What's the rush?" Magnus crooned in his low, rich voice, slender arms slithering around Alec's waist, trying to draw him back against Magnus's chest and hips, but Alec stood his ground, shaking his head.

"I told you, I can't stay. Please, don't make me feel bad about it."

There was a small pause. He could barely make out the sound of Magnus's breathing behind him. The warlock's arms stayed where they were, loosely hugging him. Eventually Magnus's fingers twitched, gently rubbing Alec's stomach. Alec closed his eyes in relief and pleasure, allowing himself to lean back a little into Magnus.

"That's fine, Alec. I'm glad you stopped by."

"Me too," Alec replied distractedly, grip on the doorknob loosening.

"You can come over anytime, you know," Magnus added, his voice stroking.

Alec nodded in a daze, murmuring 'mmmhhmmm' in his throat. He knew that probably wasn't the smartest idea; he recognized the many dangers in coming, the many reasons he shouldn't. But there was no harm in admitting that he'd like to, was there? Just giving Magnus a small something back for being so understanding this time.

"Soon?" Magnus asked, his lips suddenly brushing Alec's earlobe. Alec shivered, breath catching.

"I'll try," Alec managed, opening his eyes, tightening his fingers around the doorknob once more, preparing to turn it.

"Here," Magnus said. Alec turned his cheek, looking over his shoulder. Magnus had something in his hand, something small that flushed silver under the light. Magnus's hand reached out, palm sliding across Alec's chest and dipping inside the fold of his coat. Alec inhaled, but tried to keep still.

Then Magnus's arm was retreating, his other hand giving Alec's side a gentle squeeze.

Alec blinked in confusion, not sure what had just happened.

"It's my key."

"Oh," Alec lamely replied, realizing there was a new phantom weight against his chest, the tiny prick of the warlock's key through the material.

"So you can come up whenever you want. You don't have to wait to be buzzed in."

"Thanks."

"My pleasure," Magnus replied, his painted lips curving. It looked like Magnus wanted to kiss him again. Alec lowered his eyes, wanting that too. But it didn't happen.

Instead, Magnus closed the distance between them once more and left a warm, chaste kiss against Alec's cheek. Alec's eyelids fluttered, lashes tickling his cheeks as Magnus's warm lips lingered against his skin, breathing softly.

Then he felt the brush of Magnus's hand, fingers playing along the knit of his sweater. Alec shook once, reacting to the unexpected graze. Magnus's hand disappeared beneath the lapel of his coat once more, fingertips easing into the pocket itself, brushing the serrated edge of the key.

"Keep it right here," Magnus murmured, "where it's safe and warm."

Alec nodded that he would, opening his eyes again.

When Magnus drew back, Alec released his breath in a long, steady stream, feeling lightheaded.

"Good night, Alec."

"Good night," Alec parroted back, before shifting to grasp the knob. Twisting it once, Alec pulled the door open and stepped out into the cooler hallway, looking back once before descending the shadowy stairwell.

Magnus watched him go, one hand casually resting against the door frame, a lazy smile on his lips.