Just two notes: The play mentioned in this chapter, Peter and Alice, premiered on the West End in March 2013 and closed in June 2013. I loved the on-the-nose symbolisms I could use with Alec and Magnus seeing this play in this fanfiction and how they might interpret or relate to this show. So we're pretending it ran from October to December instead of in the late spring/summer.

And secondly, sorry about this chapter being the length it is. I was really struggling to integrate this first part with the plot idea I had . . . it's just getting split into two separate parts now. I wanted to focus a little more on Alec and Magnus' developing relationship. Perhaps not as in depth or as well-written as I'd like, but medical residencies are a bitch so this short and sweet finished version is what we're working with.

The first week of October is colder than it should be, with half-starved winds barreling through the campus early in the mornings. Helen is still mad at Alec for disappearing from the club and not getting into contact until the next day at 5 p.m., when he gets back to Merton in his clean clothes from the night before.

("I just feel like it was really irresponsible, Alec," Helen snaps. "We spent Saturday looking for you. I thought maybe you were dead and I was going to have to go the American Embassy after I called your parents."

They're in his room and she's still so scared she's mad. "I brokemy phone, Hel." Alec's exasperated. He runs a hand through his hair. "I didn't even get a new one until the next day. Ishould have called you with Magnus's phone; I'm sorry."
"You were with Magnus?" Helen is the picture of calm before a storm, suddenly

Alec realizes it was the wrong thing to say. "I – look, it wasn't like that, I swear."
But Helen thinks it is, and they haven't spoken for a week. Alec can't say he blames her entirely, really, because it probably does look like he ditched them to hang out with a guy for most of the night and all the next day, probably looks like he was a really horny eighteen-year-old. Which, yeah, he is, but still. Helen should know him better than this, and she does, and he thinks something else is going on.)

"How are classes going?" Jace asks. He, Izzy, and Max are crowded around Izzy's laptop.

It's 12:33 a.m. for Alec, and only 7 p.m. for his siblings. He's still up because he was studying for a morning exam. "They're good." Alec shrugs, yawns. "None of you would enjoy the weather here, but you'd like a lot of other stuff."

Izzy cuts him off to ask, "Can you find me a hot British boyfriend?" With her red smile and the hair she's twirling, she looks her age. She looks older, even.

Alec is disconcerted, realizing his baby sister grew up. "No; not in the least." He waited a little too long to speak, but whatever. "You wouldn't like them; they have bad teeth." Izzy seriously dating is something he irrationally hopes he can put off as long as he thing she has going on with Meliorn is just that – a thing. He hopes it's not serious, hopes it's just a rebellious fling and she's stringing the poor guy along.

"No, they don't," she objects. "Are you and Helen finally dating? Is that her dress on your bed?"

"Huh?" Alec looks behind him. There is, in fact, a dress on his bed. It's light pink and strapless, and it doesn't really suit Helen, but she's trying to fit in with Beatriz, Julie, and Marisol, experimenting with parts of her personality as often as she is her wardrobe now. "Oh, yeah. She spent the night in my room a while ago. We were studying." The second it's out of his mouth, he realizes how it sounds, and flushes.

Jace whistles, Izzy laughs. "I don't understand the joke," Max whines. "Why is studying funny?"

"Guys, it's not – it's not like that, really. I mean, it's only – like, one night a week. We don't actually do anything," Alec protests, face burning red. "We just hang out, study, talk. That's all." It's a lie because he hasn't seen Helen for exactly eight days, and he keeps putting off returning the dress to her because he doesn't want to piss her off. Of course, it's also an excuse to see her, but he's not really into the idea of fighting with her again.

Alec's phone dings; he's gotten a text from Magnus. He pulls it up while his siblings keep teasing him.

Magnus : Are you still up?

Alec: Yeah, studying. Skyping now w/ family.

Magnus : Oh, the horrors. Do you want to spend the night? Box set of Gilligan's Island w/ your name on it.

Alec: Idk what you're talking about. Is this an old person thing.

"Who are you so focused on messaging? Spending another sexy night with Helen?" Jace waggles his eyebrows at Alec.

Alec sputters, cheeks probably flushed near maroon, and says, "At least I'm getting some; which you wouldn't know anything about."

Magnus : Don't tell me you've never heard of Gilligan's Island.

Alec: isn't that the movie where the siblings fall in love with each other and have sex kids?

Magnus : Well, I wasn't going to suggest Flowers in the Attic on the first date, but if you're making requests…

"No, seriously, who are you messaging?" Izzy says, flicking at her laptop screen like it's the same thing as hitting him.

"None of your business." Alec is thisclose to flipping her off. It's only the fact that Max is there that he refrains from saying anything and doing anything worse.

Alec: just txt me details and I'll be there.

Alec isn't really sure what to expect, because he's never been on a date. Wonders if Magnus will expect any fooling around; he isn't sure he has a hormonal bone in his body sometimes. The times he does end up masturbating, it's always with thoughts of Jace floating through his head and he always finishes with a weird mixture of shame and pleasure. It's not something Alec likes thinking about, even when he's actually in the act. Helen says they have a lot of Catholic Guilt marinating in their bones. She might be right, but Alec thinks it runs deeper than that.

Of course, he's simultaneously hoping this isn't a date. Maybe Magnus is just a lonely older guy who wants a friend . . .? Alec realizes how ridiculous he sounds as the thought forms in his head. Magnus is thirty, and he's nineteen. Magnus, Alec reminds himself, is probably not looking for a friend. He'd already seen the man talking to Catarina Loss on his first day of school . . .

Alec passed by

All he's ever wanted is to be normal, and this isn't normal. He knows it isn't; his parents would be furious if they knew he was going to a man's house. Alec isn't a kid anymore – hasn't been for a long time – but he feels like one again tonight. Guilt pools in his stomach. Helen still isn't talking to him, but they've both been busy, and so he never really had a chance to debrief with her, as it were, about The Magnus Situation. Can't even ask her if going out tonight is a good idea.

When he gets to Magnus's apartment, he's antsy, full of nervous energy and longing. He spent longer than he cared to admit getting ready and making it look like he wasn't putting in that much effort into his appearance. Alec can't even think about the long list of clever things he's going to want to say and the way those words are going to get lodged in his throat.

"Alec," Magnus says by way of greeting. "How are you?" He opens the door and lets Alec inside. The room smells like cinnamon and sage, lights a little dimmed despite the fact that it's still only one in the afternoon. "There're some leftovers, if you haven't had lunch. I don't know how you feel about quiche."

"I like quiche," Alec says, and immediately feels like an idiot. 'I like quiche'? Seriously? That's the best I could come up with? he thinks. "I ate already; I didn't want to impose."
"For dinner, then." Magnus gives him a wicked, charming smile. "We don't actually have to watch Gilligan's Island, if you don't want to. We can do something else."

Alec's stomach drops. He's ridiculously attracted to Magnus, yes, but that doesn't mean he's ready to have sex. "So . . . what have you been doing today? Your apartment looks different." There are more wooden body figures placed around the living room, fabrics and dresses and shirts slipped onto them or else piled unceremoniously around their base. "Are you working on a project?"

"Oh, a spring/summer line." Magnus waves his hand unceremoniously at the half-finished projects behind him. "Something chic that seems understated but that you'd wear to a garden party, a wedding reception, that kind of thing."

Alec nods. "Very boho-chic?" He doesn't understand women's fashion at all.

Magnus laughs. "Not exactly. But close enough."

"When do you think you'll have it done?" Alec isn't really that interested in fashion, much less the more technical aspect of creating and designing it. But he can appreciate the effort and creativity it takes, the clear ambition and work ethic Magnus has. Alec shuts the door behind him and locks it, tries not to fly over to Magnus and try to kiss him, because it would be a terrible kiss and then he would be ousted from the apartment as quickly as he got here.

"The collection will be finished next month. It's easier to course correct designs when I can do mock-ups as I'm making them. Re-adjust, figure out what looks good on the runway and what will make it look just as good in stores and boutiques." Magnus looks pleased. He begins to flutter around the wooden body dresses, talking about the inspirations behind each piece that was out in the living room.

Alec admired him as he spoke, too distracted to really take in the more specific mechanisms that went into what made a successful fashion show, a successful business. Magnus seemed delighted by having an audience to discuss his own ideas. More to the point, Alec realizes he isn't passionate about anything like this. He was only ever aiming for a political career because of its ability to act as a vehicle for change. Maybe it was a mistake to come to Oxford, Alec thinks, inattentively listening, but he wouldn't have met Magnus if he'd stayed in New York.

Alec wonders if this is his baseline: he's bored and he has a bland personality and he's picking a career with hollow prestige, and this is what life might look like for the rest of his life. It makes him miserable. This isn't who he was raised to be; he isn't sure he can be comfortable with who he's trying to become. Alec is the predictable eldest brother, the responsible one, the one who exists at his baseline and is happy with it.

Shouldn't he be happy with his baseline? Even if he's changed the scenery? Alec swallows. He hasn't been happy in the longest time. But it's all he's known. Maybe he shouldn't have come here. Maybe thinks are supposed to be like this, he thinks. Maybe the homesickness is finally kicking in. He'd thought that by getting so far away from New York City, and the soap opera dramatics of old society would feel like a release. Instead, he feels trapped, because it's still there, waiting for him. He worries he will never get away because life is always pulling him back to his city.

". . . And anyway, I'm glad you're here," Magnus says as he brushes a hand over Alec's arm.

Alec blinks back to attention and can feel the muddled expression on his face sliding off, slow and thick. "Me too," he says automatically.

Magnus guides him to the couch. Soon enough they're tucked under a thick, quilted blanket and the TV's on. Alec is stiff as a board, but Magnus pretends not to notice. "I used to watch this as a kid. It was how I started learning English, when I was growing up."

He doesn't know why he does it, but Alec leans over and kisses Magnus, honey-slow instead of answering, shivers from the tremors running up and down his body because this is so wrong and it feels so right. Wants to text Helen that happiness is a man named Magnus Bane.

"Alexander." Magnus says his name like it's a blessing.

(For the first time, Alec doesn't care someone is using his full first name.)

Their bodies twist around a little on the couch; the initial singing from Gilligan's Island is suddenly very much blurry background noise because Alec's back is against the couch and he's leaning down; Magnus's body is half-wrapped around him, gentle and insistent in the kiss all at once. His body is so warm; Alec wasn't even aware Magnus was like a furnace until now. There's a hand around his neck and another holding his hip. His head is so dizzy.

When they break apart, they're both panting. "I've been waiting since August to kiss you," Magnus admits with no hint of shame in his voice.

Alec curls away. He isn't sure how to feel about this at all. It's exactly how a first kiss should be, and yet . . . "We should, um." Alec clears his throat and nods almost violently towards the TV. A hot pit is settling in his stomach. Why did he kiss Magnus?

(Why did it take him so long?)

They don't talk about the kiss at all for the rest of the afternoon. A fake fire warms up the living room, they drink a little, and finish the first season of the show before there's any conversation at all. The sweet red wine is going to Alec's head. "I should go," Alec finally says. But he doesn't want to leave at all.

"Why don't you spend the night?" Magnus looks at him like he actually wants him to stay.

"Because – I mean – we barely know each other, and –" What his point is exactly, Alec isn't sure.

Magnus just raises an eyebrow wryly. "Consider it more a testament to how much we've both been drinking, over anything else, Alexander."

"Alec," he rasps. "Call me Alec; I told you that forever ago."

And Magnus just grins, and pulls him to the bedroom.

Days bleed into each other. Alec spends a few nights a week at Magnus' Putney apartment. It's all under the guise of "God, but we've been drinking a lot while watching Gilligan's Island", or "We should've never stayed out so late for dinner after the venture to Victoria and Albert Museum". On paper, the two of them are friends that veer more towards having a mentor-mentee relationship. The kiss is a write-off, a mistake. But Alec holds Magnus's hand in the dark – he knows the man has callouses even with lotioned skin, and he can't sleep until two or three in the morning because he can't stop thumbing over Magnus's knuckles.

Alec learns how to make the batik cakes from Magnus's childhood and brings over aloe vera juice in green bottles when he visits. He listens to Magnus talk about the fan in his mother's room would just move the hot, humid air around instead of providing actual relief in the summer, and how the word macan means tiger in Magnus's native tongue.

Usually what happens is that Alec will bring his homework over in an overstuffed backpack, and, according to Magnus, work like a man possessed for a few hours. Then they'll find something to do: sometimes he'll model the clothes Magnus makes, or go to a museum. Once – only once – Alec skipped all his Thursday and Friday classes. They took a long weekend out to Wales and it was the best seventy-two hours of Alec's life. Wales is large, sprawling, lush with grass: they skinny-dip in a lake somewhere deep in the countryside and eat food they'd made that morning. There was a bed and breakfast they stayed at, and yeah, he got a few looks from the owners, but he stopped correcting them after the third try, hackles raised. It wasn't exactly the worst thing in the world to have someone so blatantly think he was dating Magnus.

Alec still jerks off to thoughts of Jace, but sometimes he thinks about Magnus, and despite the guilt ravaging him like full-body sobs, it's a hundred times better.

"I used to go to Waffle House at night a lot when I was a kid," Alec confesses over a wineglass. He's been to exactly one West End show in his life prior to tonight – and he's pretty sure that it was some Shakespearean show. Nothing that he'd ever want to write home about. "My family's really Catholic . . . but I guess you already knew that. I never really was into the whole religion thing. I mean – I believe in God, but I've never been great about reading my Bible, memorizing verses, like . . . I don't know."

He shrugs, and he knows he's babbling from too much wine but he can't seem to stop. "Anyway, I used to feel God in Waffle Houses at night. That was like – my holy place. I know everybody yaps about how you only go there when you're drunk or it's a liminal space, but that's where I feel closest to whatever higher power is there." The truth is that he feels somewhat embarrassed to discuss it all. Alec feels painfully aware now that he's not as knowledgeable about religion or philosophy as it seems like he's supposed to be. What does he know about any of this at nineteen?

Magnus swirls the wine around in his glass for a moment. "In Jakarta, when I was a child, most people were Christian or Muslim. My mother used to practice Buddhism; she told me about Shakyamuni, the founder of Buddhism. He was from a royal family who lived in a palace in the foothills of the Himalayas. And he left his home some four times only, if memory serves with her bed stories." There's a pregnant pause, when they're both looking at each other in the dim restaurant light; there are vague, light noises of forks clinking against plates. "I was thinking about it tonight, when we were observing Peter and Alice."

Alec affectionately knocks their knees together under the counter, and he's suddenly glad the tablecloth goes all the way down to the floor, so no one can see them. He can still remember earlier in the night when Magnus's calloused hand was tracing hearts on his hand. "Why? They weren't really talking about religion during the show."

"No, but Peter commissioned Alice to write his memoirs and used their shared circumstances to persuade her."

Alec pauses for a second. "What, so you think just because you left Indonesia you think other people are going to write your story?" He can't quite see what point Magnus is trying to make. The music playing – from a live band, which for whatever reason is the coolest thing to Alec, currently – switches to a new jazz song. Their waiter comes to briefly fill up their water glasses again, sweeps away again soft as a shadow. Magnus' eyes look somber and serious.

"They met once. Very briefly in a bookstore. The real-life Alice in Wonderland and Peter Pan." Magnus takes another bite of his chicken. "With the play combining reality and fantasy, combing through it – I suppose it made me wonder what happens to our legacies here when we die. People are already writing my story in real time."

Alec's lips twitch into a smile. "But you're not dying, Magnus. Thirty isn't a terminal illness. You're just a man in his prime." He mimics taking a few bites of food. Perhaps a bit unnecessary given his lack of appetite now. Everything about this night was perfect, and Magnus is beautiful right now. It's not something you're supposed to think about a friend. And yet – he can't help it. He can't even stop the obvious bedroom eyes he's probably making right now towards Magnus.

It shouldn't be a surprise, Alec thinks in retrospect, that they end up in bed together and he has sex for the first time. But they do, and Magnus is all warm, olive skin and bright eyes. Magnus is gentle even when he's being rough, and Alec is cross-eyed from the pleasure when Magnus is three fingers knuckle deep in his body. He goes somewhere quiet in his head when the fingers are replaced with Magnus' cock, and his hips lift up to meet each thrust, and he doesn't feel any fireworks, just that this is good and right and he – well, he can't tell anybody about this.

Alec finishes earlier than he would've wanted, but he can't help that his body seems to just thrum and hum around Magnus, especially when they touch.

"We can't tell anybody about this," Alec says faintly when they're done. The two of them are sprawled next to each other, panting, and the faint hum of the A/C kicking in is making him think Magnus' mother in Indonesia listen to her ceiling fan. "My family . . . I mean, and me . . ."

When Magnus finally speaks, he sounds gruff. "Not really the first thing to say after sex, Alec."

"Sorry." Alec swallows. He props himself up and looks back down at Magnus. "But seriously, we can't tell anybody about this. The scandal, Magnus."

Magnus raises an eyebrow. "Are you embarrassed we had sex, or that you're not straight."

Alec flushes. "It's not like that."

"Then what is it like? Because we've been going out for a not insignificantly short amount of time. If you're not interested in pursuing a relationship, or you just wanted to explore your identity, perhaps you out to go explore somewhere else."

The whole mood is slipping away. Alec huffs out a breath and flops back down against a pillow. He isn't sure how to salvage the night. "It's not like that," he says again robotically. "Look, I just didn't exactly expect my first time to be with a man, you know? Not a guy in his thirties. I always thought it would be with some girl I was married to on our wedding night, or like, while we were engaged. It was never supposed to be with a guy I've known for three months and only seriously started spending time with this month." It's hard to explain and he isn't sure he's even saying anything coherent. He's tired and his brain is still not functioning at an optimum level. "It was just – a lot. To experience. I'd never kissed anybody until you."

Magnus lets out a startled laugh. "Surely not, Alexander. Surely I was not your first kiss." Now it's his turn, evidently, to look down as he sits up and stretches, catlike.

Alec rolls onto his stomach. "I mean, I kissed Helen once, when we were sixteen. I made out with her, but it felt like more like we were playing pretend. She's gay, and I guess we just figured if we kissed or tried to date, and with us both being . . . not straight, it would cancel out the queerness." He hates the way that sounds like a question, like he's not sure about his life experiences, boring and drab though they may be.

"I understand," Magnus says gently, after a moment. "I can wait, Alexander, but I am not going to wait forever; I will not stay in the closet again for someone else's comfort."

There's obviously a story there and Alec wants to hear it, but no way can he give Magnus the kind of attentiveness he deserves for divulging that kind of character lore. Instead, he pushes himself up and off the bed. He's not used to being naked in front of anybody, and he's really fighting off the urge to clothe up fully because even though Magnus is obviously ogling him again, there's something tender in his bright green and yellow eyes. Alec settles on only wearing clean briefs and sweatpants. "Come on," he says simply to Magus, bouncing on his feet a little. "Want some tea? We can brew a pot and then sprawl out on your couch while I finish homework."
"Alright." Magnus skims his fingers partway up Alec's spine as he brushes past to get on clothes, and Alec thinks he could maybe get used to this, one day. Because the way he thought he'd lose his virginity is so far gone from the reality of it, and what's happening to him right now is far from the worst thing in the world. Then his phone pings with an I'm sorry text from Helen, and before Alec knows it Magnus has given the okay for Alec to invite Helen over for late night tea.