A/N: Hiya! I'm finally writing again! I've decided to (wo)man up; no excuses or anything. As a reward to all of you for waiting so patiently, this chappy is one of the longest ones I've posted.

So, it turns out that ENVY has a ton of "cures." Kindness, love, benevolence… I chose to write LOVE, because it sort of counter-acts the previous chappy :)

FYI: this chapter will be a little bit different from the others. This one will be more of a collection of one-shots… just tryin' out something new :)

WARNING: extreme, tooth-rotting, insulin-spiking, cotton-candy level sweetness. Fluffier than a Pomeranian puppy in a mousse factory.

ENJOY!

I'm remarkably hard to deal with. I know that; I've had countless people tell me that in my life. I have a glitter addiction. I put trivial things, like my cat, at the top of my priorities. I'm sarcastic and have an acrid personality. I fall prey to laziness. I'm enamored with things quickly, but I lose interest once the "newness" wears off. I get it. It doesn't take a rocket scientist to figure out why I have a lot of one-night stands. Not many people can put up with me for longer than that.

MALECMALECMALEC

The first time I realized how patient Alec was, I was in the midst of my Project Runway obsession. (It wasn't even the current season. I was replaying season four, nursing my not-so-secret crush on Christian Siriano.)

Alec and I were lying on the couch, watching the finale for the fourth time. He'd yet to come out to his family, and was still sneaking out of the Institute. I knew that every second we had together was precious and fleeting, but somehow, all I wanted to do was sit and watch the progression of models down the runway.

"I looove that jacket*! I simp-"

"-ly must have it?" He finished for me. He then let loose that quiet little chuckle that could melt any frigid heart. My confusion, however, must have shown on my face. "You said that last time we watched this. And the time before that." He let loose the same little laugh.

I knew we'd watched Project Runway multiple times, but I hadn't realized the full extent. "Why didn't you say anything?"

"The way you light up when you see something you like, the way you agree with every little bitchy comment Christian Siriano makes, just being with you while you are enjoying something you love; it all makes me happy. I love you**, so I don't really mind."

MALECMALECMALEC

I was shocked. Stunned. Flabbergasted.

"You're telling me that, as a gay male living in New York, you've never seen anything on Broadway?"

Alec just blushed. "May I remind you that, as a closeted gay Shadowhunter living in New York, Broadway musicals are about the last place I would ever want to be seen?" I found that to be ridiculously hilarious. Ludicrous, even. It took a full five minutes for me to calm down enough to properly address the situation.

"I refuse to have my boyfriend be culturally illiterate, even if he is having tea with Mr. Tumnus." He obviously didn't understand. I tried to explain, to little effect. "You know… in Narnia? In the wardrobe?" The confusion didn't leave his face. "Just… never mind."

Alec left soon after that; only his sister knew about us, and he had to keep up appearances for his brother. I wasn't huge on being his dirty little secret. However, I did understand what he was going through. The pain, the fear; I got it. So I let him do what he felt was right, what he thought he could do.

…However, I wasn't above pushing him…

The next afternoon, when he came back, I jumped him (but not in the way I'd wanted to) at the door. "Gueeeess whaaat IIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII haaaaaaaaave?"

He looked unimpressed. "Let me guess. Tickets?" he deadpanned. I could feel my face fall.

"Wha-? How? Wh..wha?" I was incapable of forming a complete sentence.

"I know you too well," was his answer. The little smirk gracing his usually stoic face, though, was nice.

It was my turn to smile. "Then you know that I'm not taking no for an answer." He laughed: not his little chortle, but the deep, rich belly laugh that rarely ever made an appearance.

Red in the face, with eyes watering from his laugh attack, Alec was finally able to breathe again after a few moments. "I figured. So what are we going to see?"

"A personal favorite of mine, and, in my humble opinion, the best show to ever. Wicked!"

Needless to say, Mr. Tumnus was hearing Alec sing "Defying Gravity" for a good long while.

MALECMALECMALEC

I sing. A lot. Sometimes it's because I hear a person say something that makes me think of the lyrics to a song. Sometimes it's because I find a song that matches my mood, and then I feel the need to project my emotions to the world through song. Sometimes it's because I hear something on the radio that simply refuses to leave my head.

Whatever the reason, I spend a majority of my time singing. Lady Gaga, Adam Lambert, Tokio Hotel; those are my favorites, my go-to's. Wicked, Rent, Hairspray; my "Broadway Playlist" is extensive. Then there's the random songs. The Enrique Iglesias, the Ricky Martin, even a little Justin Bieber. (What can I say? I may be an 800-year-old man, but that doesn't stop me from sharing an obsession with the 12-year-old girls of the world.)

I was alone in the apartment, save for Chairman Meow. Alec was out on a hunt with his brother and sister, and he wasn't due back until late that night.

Thinking of the blue-eyed Shadowhunter spurred on another round of song.

"Si pudiera ser tu heroe, si pudiera ser tu dios" I paused for a moment. I couldn't think of the next words. I continued, resigned, "Somethin' somethin' mil veces. Puede ser mi salvacion." ***

Enrique Iglesias's lyrics made me tear up a little. You could be my salvation. The words were so very Alec. I started to sing again.

"Que mas da, mira que al final, lo que importa es que te quiero"

"What's that mean?" The voice of my gorgeous boyfriend nearly gave me a heart attack. He laughed his little chuckle at my fright.

Stunned, my auto-pilot brain answered his question. "It's: what you give, the last look, the most important thing is that I love you.****" When I recovered enough cerebral power, I stammered, "Wh- How? Why?"

So much for cerebral power.

Answering the questions he knew I was trying to ask, he said, "It wasn't a huge deal, just one Ravener down in an old warehouse. Jace and Izzy had it under control without me. So I thought-"

"That instead of getting all covered in dirty and sweaty fighting a demon, you could come down here and get all sweaty doing something else with your boyfriend?" Couldn't blame a guy for trying! And the flush of red gracing Alexander's face was well worth it.

There was a quiet moment. The ensuing silence wasn't uncomfortable; it was more like neither of us had anything else to do but stare into the other's eyes. (In a totally not-creepy way. In a totally in-love way.)

"So 'I love you' was, te quiero, right?" Alec asked, breaking the spell we'd been under.

"Yup. Absolutely right, sweetness."

"Te quiero."

"Ya' got it!"

"Cool, but no. Mags, te quiero."

* for all of ya'll who are curious, this is the jacket Mags loves:

.com/2010/02/15/christian-siriano-fierce-trasformation/

In the first picture, the top right jacket…

** I imagine Alec being all sweet and lovey-dovey while they're alone, but shy in public…

*** Do you really think that, after more than 800 years of life, Magnus only speaks one language?

**** Ignore the rough translation… I was trying to write quickly. My brain didn't feel like going into full-on Spanish translation mode. This is the gist…

A/N: So, I hope you guys don't hate me for going so long without updates. Reviews could quite possibly speed up the process… hint hint :)