First Fanfiction! I hope you enjoy it! (No copyright intended, all characters belong to Cassandra Clare)

CASTLES MADE OF SAND, CHAPTER FORTY TWO

Trouble

"Trouble... Trouble, trouble, trouble, trouble. Trouble been doggin' my soul since the day I was born
Worry... Worry, worry, worry, worry. Worry just will not seem to leave my
mind alone. We'll I've been... Saved by a woman.
I've been... Saved by a woman."
-Ray LaMontagne

He missed—again.

It was at least the fifth goal that he had struggled to even obtain, and the fifth one that he botched, at the end of his long sprints down the field. He looked down towards the opposite side where Jace stood nervously biting his finger nails down to the quick, and Jace was rarely ever nervous when it came to sports. He wasn't doing much better than Alec, fumbling on certain passes and failing to score on others. The muscles in Alec's calves and abdomen burned with the ache that soccer endurance trials brought with it, and this ache was anything but dull. It resonated throughout his body, to some extent, starting at the caution areas and spreading outwards.

His head was not where it should have been at the present moment in time, and the same went for Jace, whose mind and thoughts were souly based on Clary—essentially the numerous amount of hardships they were bound to face. Alec's mind, on the other hand, was concentrated on the blazing defeated look that Magnus adorned back in English class that morning; the same look that continued to blaze throughout the day. For the most part, Magnus had avoided Alec, though Biology proved to be an obstacle given that they were partners. But, somehow, Magnus had managed to make Alec feel completely disconnected from him. He was... Gone, for the moment, to Alec.

Not so far gone that he didn't speak a single word to Alec earnestly, but there was a cold detachment behind his fiery green-yellow cat eyes. That's the thing that cut down Alec the most: the fact that it wasn't necessarily a situation that he could handle—it was a situation that he shouldn't have had to handle in the first place.

Alec didn't know exactly what to do, and he desperately thought that this was the best way—not telling Magnus the truth about William punching him—to protect Magnus.

Back in English, when William pulled Alec to the back of the room, William didn't even hesitate before he jumped right to the point at hand; diving head first into the issue as if it was a normal nonchalant topic to talk about. That was one thing that Alec couldn't quite grasp about William's character: behind his brooding deep blue eyes anyone would be able to see a swarm of emotions flaring, but the way he acted was so neutral. He had to be hiding something, that much was clear.

He told Alec, simply, that by telling Magnus the truth about the whole ordeal, they would indirectly put him in a compromising position of either believing William, his best friend, or Alec, his boyfriend—for all intents and purposes.

And one thing was for sure in Alec's perspective: William was going to deny the fact that something had happened between them, for however long he could hold on to his false truth. Alec debated within his mind, because he hopelessly wanted Magnus to know the truth; it didn't sit well with him that he was keeping this from Magnus... Among other things... But Magnus deserved this small truth from Alec, and then on the other side of things Alec couldn't and wouldn't force Magnus to choose between William and himself.

A small part of him knew that it was because he was scared of the outcome being Magnus trusting William in the end—and he didn't know what he would do if that happened. And then there was the larger part of him, that didn't want to make Magnus choose. That was never fair to anyone, especially given the circumstances—

"Lightwood!" A whistle was blown close by, piercing Alec's already ringing ears. They were going through endurance games and trials that were pushing his senses to the limit. He looked in the direction that the coach was standing, with his burly arms crossed over his chest, the shiny silver whistle still ever-present on is thick lips. For a second Alec was confused about who the coach was calling out to—either him or Jace.

He glanced down the field for a quick second again, finding Jace in the same perplexed state that he was in. "Yeah the both of you!" The coach, who only wanted to be called Pangborn, bellowed, pointing his bear sized fingers in their direction. A second later, wasting no time at all, he blew furiously again on his whistle, as if it were another breathing mechanism for him—snapping Alec to attention.

They bounded their way over to the side line, and Alec hiked up the bottom of his shirt to wipe the fresh sweat off of his forehead. "Don't just stand there!" Pangborn yelled at the other guys who were trying out for the Senior Soccer team. It seemed that all he did was shout to the point that Alec feared his ears would start to bleed. "I need to talk to the both of you," he looked down at a stale white clip board that rested in his large hands, "Johnathan—"

"Jace," he interrupted the coach, gaining a blank scowl.

"Jace and Alexander—"

"Alec," he cringed when he heard his own raspy voice shoot off his name; a completely second nature reaction that he had when anyone called him Alexander. Well, anyone except Magnus. And there went his thoughts again.

"You guys have any other fancy names that you want to tell me, before I continue talking?" Pangborn barked sarcastically, frown lines appeared around his lips and across his forehead. They both winced and shook their heads from side to side quickly. "Good," he grinned, bearing a toothy, cynical smile. "You know what? Your old coach from back East notified me about you two. He told me that you were so good, that I wouldn't need to put you guys through any trials." He laughed and rolled his eyes.

"Just slap them on the team." He changed his voice, attempting to act out how their old coach might have said that. He waved his hand in front of his face, gesturing for them to lean in closer. "But I'll tell you a little secret..." Pangborn held their anticipation well, causing Alec to breathe a little too deeply through his nose. "I'm not liking what I'm seeing! So you two better get your acts together and prove to me that you deserve a spot on this team!" He snarled, shifting his clipboard underneath his left armpit before he could grab onto the front fabric of their shirts—yanking them to his sides.

"Yes sir?" Jace furrowed his eyebrows, unsure of what to say.

"You need to watch that tone of voice you use with me boy. Even if you're some soccer star, I'll have you kicked off this team faster than you can say 'yes sir' again." He sneered, releasing their sweat soaked shirts. "Go take a break or whatever. And when you think you're game enough to show me something good out there—come back." And with that he blew his whistle one more time; deafening Alec for a moment.

His back hit the hard stone wall forcefully, creating both a subtle release and absorption of tension. But, at this point, he would throw his back against the wall multiple times just for the brief rush of strain leaving his aching muscles. Alec slid down, until he was crouching on his knees, the cold lacquer floor bit into his heated flesh. Restlessly his fingers threaded throughout his charcoal black locks; his nails scraping against his scalp lazily as he worried his bottom lip between his teeth, involuntarily.

While his mind should have been focused on soccer—the reason that he was inside attempting to collect himself—he couldn't help his wayward mind drift towards thoughts of Magnus. This relationship couldn't be perfect, it just couldn't; no relationship was as smooth as a flat prairie, there had to be dips and protrusions along the way. And quite honestly Alec expected that not everything would be easy; he just didn't imagine that it would be this hard and that he would feel so hurt and confused by everything.

"Alexander," he picked his head up sharply at the call of his name from down the hall. Magnus was striding towards him, his long tawny fingers shoved into the front pockets of his dark waxy pants. Magnus' hair was turned up into numerous spikes on the top of his head; light swatches of glitter lined the tips of the inky strips. "Alexander," he called out again as he got closer, since Alec made no reply.

Alec quickly bounded to his feet, scuffing his sneakers harshly on the floor. Magnus choked out a short laugh at the hastiness that Alec just demonstrated. He blushed, the heat scorching his cheeks. Hesitantly he began to walk to Magnus, meeting him halfway in the middle of the empty hall.

He didn't know what to expect, but for sure he didn't expect Magnus to grab a hold of his face, bringing his lush lips forcefully down onto Alec's lips. Alec whimpered at the contact, wrapping his hands around Magnus' waist.

Magnus drew his tongue across Alec's bottom lip, his spicy cinnamon taste invaded Alec's mouth as he sighed and met Magnus' tongue halfway—followed by a battle over control. He didn't realize it yet, but during the heated, breathless moments that they were kissing, Magnus had backed Alec up until they hit a locker, a resounding thud rocked around them. Alec gripped the small of Magnus' back tighter, relishing in the feel of Magnus' body beneath his hands.

Now, Magnus had trailed his palms away from Alec's cheeks, brushing them down... Down over the front of Alec's sweat soaked shirt—causing him to shiver and blush—to where the hem of his shirt met his shorts; where Magnus began to dip his fingers under the waist band, teasing the heated skin until it dimpled.

"I thought you were mad at me," Alec whispered against Magnus' lips, never releasing the connection that they made between them. "I didn't think you wanted to see me," he sighed loudly as Magnus thrust his hands fully into his shorts, weaving them around to grip Alec's back side. The coldness of his hands almost made Alec yelp, but he held it back—kissing Magnus even harder to mute the sound.

Magnus said in between kisses, "I can't," brush of lips, "stay mad," torturous tongue dip, "at you." He pulled his face back from Alec's and at the same time, pulled his lower body closer, until their hips were forcefully pressed together. He could feel how excited Magnus had become, just from their simple kissing, and no doubt Magnus could feel Alec's own arousal.

This was what it was like for them: A earth-shattering physical connection, a similar interest in literature—which they both held very dear to their hearts—, and this deep emotional bond that Alec couldn't simply explain. Things may have been fast, but he felt as if Magnus was an entity of his life, one which was lost until the first time they had locked eyes. He imagined it at that moment, staring into those green-yellow cat orbs that first mesmerized him, and wondered if he knew it back then... If he knew that he was in lo—

He couldn't finish his own thoughts, only because it scared him. It scared him whole heartedly thinking that, that four letter word or three-letter sentence could tip the scales at any moment; and for sure at that point in time, he would be all in—all of his cards would be laid out on the table, and he wasn't sure that he was ready for that just yet.

"What are you thinking about?" Magnus pulled his left hand out of Alec's shorts and raised his hand to Alec's face, rubbing the spot above Alec's eyebrow with the pad of his thumb.

"Nothing," he lied. "I just... I thought you were mad at me." He let the morning seep into his bones again, causing his sturdy shoulders to fall under the weight.

"I was." Magnus steadied his gaze on the patch of skin directly above Alec's eyebrow. "It took me awhile to realize that I can't force you into telling me everything. I know you'll tell me what happened—when you're ready. And I guess back in English, I just couldn't accept that."

"But why? If this is only because Will knows—"

"Stop. It isn't only because Will knows. It's the fact that I can't protect you from this," he lightly feathered his fingers down to Alec's nose, making sure not to place too much pressure onto the bruise that had finished blossoming. "I want to be able to protect you Alexander, and I feel as if I have already failed at that. But I won't push you away because of it, and stupidly enough, it took me the whole day and watching your soccer try-outs to figure that out." He chuckled under his breath.

"Oh gosh," Alec lowered his head, "you were watching my pathetic display of soccer?"

"...And wondering why you weren't scoring any goals, in mind of me. I think that's when it clicked in my head that this was affecting you, just as much as it was affecting me." Magnus' eyes saddened at his little revelation, and Alec felt the undeniable need to take that pain away. He leaned into Magnus' face, as if it were second nature to do so, and captured is lips in a soft, delicate, rapture.

They stayed like that for a little while, placing slow lingering kisses on one another's lips, drawing out each movement, pulling unadulterated sounds from the base of each other's throats, nipping, biting, and teasing... This is what Alec longed for. "So we're okay?" Alec placed his forehead against Magnus' breathing deeply through his lips, attempting to regain the stolen air from his lungs.

"We're more than okay, lovely." Magnus pushed his body away from Alec's relentlessly, stepping back to give him space. "Now go show me what those thighs of yours can really do." Heat eclipsed Alec's face; he knew his thigh muscles were quite huge and firm, given the countless years he had been involved in sports, but the connotation behind Magnus' words caused his mind to stray towards other things that the muscles in his thighs could be handy for. "You're thinking about it aren't you?" Magnus smirked seductively, his voice lowering. "We could test out just how much endurance those muscles could take... When we're at the lake." He wiggled his eyebrows suggestively, and let out a curt laugh when he saw a bright red blush taint Alec's pale cheeks.

"Uh, I, well," Alec tried to build up courage. "Yeah, I guess we could test them out. You better be prepared for me." He winked, and essentially that was the best he could muster. For a fleeting moment he wondered how dirty talk with Magnus would go... And immediately cringed at the thought.

"Oh I will be prepared, in more ways than one." He leaned in quickly to kiss Alec's flamed cheek and took off down the hallway. Alec smiled wistfully after him, loving the way that his shoulder blades stuck out faintly, because of how confidently Magnus held himself, and the way his butt looked wrapped securely in his waxy pants.

Alec had made his way back outside to find Jace on the field already picking up his momentum, weaving in and out of the fast-moving players, darting toward—and after—him. Alec noticed that the way he pumped his arms, wasn't with as much force as he usually had, and that told Alec that Jace still had his head somewhere else, but would still be able to pull off a show for coach Pangborn.

He felt terrible about what was happening to Jace, although nothing was really solidified. He knew that if Clary was pregnant, Maryse would ring Jace's neck high and mightily, but she would support him, just as Robert would do the same. Alec couldn't say much for Clary's parents on the other hand... When he had met Jocelyn, she didn't act as if she disliked Jace, but she didn't act as if she liked him either. It was as if she couldn't size him up properly, and that didn't sit well with Alec; Jace was who he was up front, hiding barely anything, that she didn't need to search for anything that he could be hiding.

And then there was Valentine, someone who Alec didn't know how to react to. He was a lot like Johnathan, a bit rough around the edges, sociable, and clearly both had a prominent mean streak within them. But, Alec could say that Johnathan was a good guy by nature, a bit too over protective of Clary—what brother wasn't protective of their younger sisters?—and at the same time Alec couldn't say that he thought Valentine was a good man. Maybe once he was, but those cold dark black eyes told numerous stories as to how he must have been broken down over the years.

He feared that they would take Clary's pregnancy badly, and he didn't want that for her; to be completely alienated by her parents at the age of seventeen for a careless mistake. But consequences weren't put in place for nothing, and if she was pregnant they would handle it over time. It wouldn't be easy though.

"Lightwood!" That damn whistle, Alec thought as Pangborn called him over. "Are you good now? Are you going to show me that you can be on this team?"

"Yes," he made sure not to add the 'sir' at the end.

"Don't just stand there then. Get on that field." He gave Alec a small shove in the direction of the open field. He sprinted over and took stance as he waited for the ball to shift down the field into his zone. He hopped on the balls of his feet, shaking out his hands—preparing himself to show Pangborn exactly what he was capable of doing. The ball was coming his way, and he knew that he needed to calculate his steps quickly to make sure that he didn't botch any more goals.

He intercepted a pass from the opposite team of guys, who were wearing red mesh pinnies, and kicked the ball up behind his back so that it would come forward a little bit and bounce off of his head. With that step out of the way, and the ball flying a few feet in front of him, he took off after it like a jaguar hunting its prey; darting around fast-moving bodies that were either with or against him. The hot humid air waved around him, stinging his eyes and making his palms sweat viciously. He carried on down the field though, until Jace came into view, and instead of taking the goal for himself—that he knew he wouldn't miss—he kicked the ball down to Jace who in turn scored.

Alec was always someone who didn't like the attention heavily focused on himself, and that was one of the simplest things he valued in Jace—he could take the heat off of him. They continued on with a few more games, and then a dozen more endurance trials which pushed Alec to his breaking point and beyond. By the time they were done, Alec was wheezing painfully through his mouth and nose, hands pressed tightly to his knees. His face was bright red, while his hair was slicked with sweat.

"I think we did good," Jace came up and slapped him across his shoulder blades once, then twice, forcing more air out of Alec's battered lungs. It didn't help that he had a fairly large bruise on the side of his ribs from William, where all the pain seemed to be radiating towards. "Hey are you okay?"

"Yeah I'll be fine, just give me a second to catch my breath." He forced himself to stand up straight, wincing only for a fraction of a second as pain shot across his ribcage. "Is Izzy picking us up?"

"Yeah, I think I see the Jeep right over there," Jace pointed to the school's parking lot, a little ways away from the soccer field. They began to walk over to Pangborn who was crowding all the guys together, he informed them that they would go through another day of games and trials in the following week, with a friend of his, who was also a scout, named Blackwell coaching as well. Alec prayed that Blackwell was at least a bit more laid back than Pangborn seemed to be.

After that, Jace and Alec began to walk towards the parking lot, their bags slung over their shoulders. "Are we going to tell Izzy?" Jace whispered, as if anyone around them had exponential hearing.

"Tell her what?" Alec asked, raising his left eyebrow.

"About that AnnaMarie chick," he replied bitterly, like the taste of her name on his tongue was like eating grapefruit. "Do you think dad will tell Izzy, or should we?"

"No, let dad tell her. I don't want to be the one to drop that on her." Alec shook his head feverishly, washing away the images of Isabelle's face falling, and her dark eyes crumbling before him.

"Hey! Hurry up, I'm going out with Meliron soon and I need to get home and get ready!" Isabelle screamed, leaning against the front of the Jeep, although they had come close enough to hear her perfectly fine if she just shouted lightly—even though 'shouting lightly' didn't seem quite possible...

"Who the hell is Meliron?" Jace growled and opened the back door of the Jeep, shoving his and Alec's bags into the back seat before sliding in. Alec got in the passenger seat at the same time that Isabelle took the drivers spot.

"He's a ballet dancer at a studio in Idris." She beamed, her smile lighting up her pretty, porcelain pale, face. "I was hanging out with Camille today, and she introduced us—"

"He's one of those faerie dancers?" Jace scoffed, folding his arms across his chest.

"There's nothing wrong with guys doing ballet. I, for one, think it is completely sexy," Alec cringed at that word leaving his sisters lips, in respect to the new guy that she liked. "And honestly, I don't care about your opinion Jace."

"What happened to Simon? Haven't you two have been getting pretty close?" Alec gave his imput and instantly regretted it when Isabelle turned her blazing eyes on him. "Or... Nevermind." Isabelle continued to stare daggers at him and Alec had a hard time dropping her steely gaze. "Oh... Hey... Look at the time. You had to get home to get ready right?"

"Mark my words Alexander Gideon Lightwood, if you ever insinuate that there is something going on with Lewis and I, I'll ring your throat." Isabelle offered a fake smile and began to pull out of the parking lot. Alec shook his head at the thought that Isabelle was so much like their mother, and hated acknowledging that. "And just for the record, he wouldn't be able to handle all of this." She pointed her glossed finger at herself.

Jace laughed from the back seat. "You've got that right."

A/N: You all have the right to be mad at me! It's been too long hasn't it? I know that by saying school has completely gotten in the way is just an excuse, but I feel as if for those who want answers... Well there it is. I hate school, don't you? But this is my last year, and I can't afford to flunk any of my courses! Sorry though, for not paying more attention to my writing. Have you guys ever read the book 'The Kite Runner'? I'm about halfway through and this book has made me cry a dozen times. It's so beautiful, and if you love 'The Book Thief' (which is my all time favorite book) you'll love The Kite Runner, because they have slightly similar writing styles (at least in my opinion they do :P). I hope you liked this chapter! I needed to get Isabelle back in there, a little bit of Malec, and his soccer; because this story isn't only about Malec, I mean, the main focus is obviously Malec but I guess I'm just trying to create the most real story that I can.

I wanted to ask you guys something and I would love if you would answer in a review :)! Where are you from? (I'm Canadian, by the way!)

If we can get it to 770 reviews, I will post the next chapter in two days time!

Review pretty, pretty please?

Amber,