Chapter Text
“I have no idea what to get. I’m not good at this kind of thing, Isabelle,” Alec huffed. His voice sounded rather irritable and he tried to keep it in check. After all, it wasn’t Izzy’s fault he wasn’t good at relationship stuff. If anything, Alec was annoyed with himself.
“He likes art. Maybe get him a new piece of wall art for his apartment?” Alec blinked and looked over at Clary who was perched on the chair in his bedroom, one of her knees drawn up to her chest. She had her chin propped on it.
“He likes one-of-a-kind pieces created by famous painters that have been dead for centuries. Not some mass-produced, copy of a work by someone no one’s even heard of before,” Alec told her sourly. Clary took his (slight) attitude in stride.
“I happen to know that those hammered-metal sconces he has hung up in his loft were purchased from the Pottery Barn…And I’m almost positive Michelangelo didn’t carve those busts he has around there, either,” she informed him lightly.
Alec glowered at her.
“I’m just saying,” she said, hands out in front of her in a placating gesture, “That it’s not a terrible idea!” Alec flopped back onto his bed with a heavy sigh.
“No one wants art from their significant other for their birthday!” Izzy said, rolling her eyes in disbelief.
“Alec?” Lydia’s voice came from the other side of the closed door to his bedroom. “Can I come in for a moment?”
“Yeah,” Alec called back and he raised back into a sitting position so he didn’t look so helpless and defeated. Lydia opened the door. Her hair was pulled into a fancy braid and her lips were a nice shade of red. She smiled at him.
“Hey. I just wanted to let you know that Magnus Bane will be here within the hour. I didn’t know if you’d spoken to him yet so I figured I’d stop in and let you know. I’m having him come by to strengthen the protections he placed around the institute.”
“Damn it,” Alec groaned out, slumping.
Lydia looked taken aback by his reaction. Izzy shook her head, looking aghast.
“Jewelry! You’re dating a man who has a better collection of jewelry than I do. Get him some bling.”
Alec worried his lips with his teeth.
“I’m sorry, did I interrupt something?” Lydia asked, perplexed. Izzy shrugged haphazardly and stretched out her legs in front of her on Alec’s bed. Her high heeled feet crossed themselves at the ankle.
“No. Alec’s just having a coronary embolism at the moment because Magnus’s birthday is coming up and he doesn’t know what to get him.”
“Ah,” Lydia said. She folded her arms over her chest and leaned against the wall thoughtfully. “Well, if you don’t mind me asking Alec, has Magnus hinted at anything? Maybe he mentioned something that he’d like, in passing, to you. Perhaps something that caught his eye…?” she offered.
“No. Anything he wants or needs he just…magics up or well, buys it for himself on these little whims of his. You guys saw the car. He’s the High Warlock of Brooklyn, why on earth would he need a car?” He scratched his jaw feeling hopeless. “…And Izzy, I don’t think Magnus would want me to pick him out jewelry...or clothing, for that matter. He’s got a unique sense of style and expensive taste…I’d have to steal funds out of the Institute’s treasury to afford anything like that. I’m pretty sure one of his designer shirts cost more than my entire wardrobe put together.” He rubbed a hand over his face tiredly.
“You’re being too hard on yourself, Alec. It’s the thought that counts the most,” Clary said kindly. “I’m sure Magnus would be happy with whatever you picked for him. He loves you.”
“Exactly,” Lydia added encouragingly. “Gifts don’t have to be extravagant or expensive to be worth something, Alec.”
Alec picked at the rip in the knee of his jeans, his frustration only increasing. “He keeps telling me not to get him anything at all. He said he just wants to spend time with me and that that’s enough. But it’s not enough. We spend time together all the time, so that’s nothing new. I’m going to screw this up.”
“I think that when it comes to Magnus, you’re more than enough, Alec. He looks at you like you hung the moon and stars. You could get a ring out of a gumball machine and he’d wear it until his finger turned green,” Clary told him.
And Magnus probably would wear it. Nonetheless, Alec still felt compelled to wow the pants off his boyfriend with some romantic gesture. Magnus had hundreds of birthdays; Alec wanted nothing more than to make the warlock’s first one with him into one of the most memorable. That was a lot of pressure, even if it was self-inflicted.
“My brother’s right, though. Magnus does have a more…fabulous taste,” Izzy acknowledged appreciatively. “He picked out these shoes for me,” she added happily, lifting one of her feet to show them off to the occupants in the room.
“I do like those,” Clary said. “I think I’d break my neck if I tried to walk in them, though.” Izzy just gave her a proud little smirk in return, clearly proud of her ability to hunt demons in six-inch heels.
“I’m glad you love your shoes, Izzy, but can we focus?” Alec drawled, unimpressed.
Izzy pursed her lips. “You’re rather grouchy today, big brother. Fine. I have one more idea. If you don’t like it, then you’re on your own.”
“Shoot,” Alec told her.
“Does he have any fantasies?”
“Any fantasies?” Alec repeated blankly. Clary bit the inside of her cheek to keep from laughing and Lydia raised a hand to her mouth to cover a grin.
Izzy nodded. “Like…like, the strict professor and the naughty schoolboy?” she offered. Alec stared at her. “…Schoolboy needs an easy ‘A’? Maybe he needs to be taught a lesson for acting out in class?” she prompted after Alec’s lack of retort.
Alec gaped at her.
He closed his eyes.
He opened them.
Nope, Izzy was still there, smiling with a mischievous glint in her big, brown eyes.
“Isabelle,” he started, his voice struggling to stay even, “Please leave.”
Izzy scoffed. “You’re dating a Downworlder! Loosen up and have some fun, Alec! Besides, it’s a relatively inexpensive but very rewarding gift. You’d really just need some costumes, a prop or two—”
“I am not dressing up like a schoolboy!” Alec sputtered, jumping off his bed as if it burned him. “Leave. Leave now. Please,” He urged, the pitch of his usually deep voice was climbing high and for a minute Alec felt like puberty rescinded on him.
Izzy and Clary both shuffled to their feet and headed to the door with Lydia. His sister frowned suddenly and turned around, cocking her head to the side.
“So you’d be the schoolboy in that scenario, then?” Izzy asked. “Interesting.” She stood unyieldingly in his room, surveying him up and down. “Is this a bad time to mention you have a hickey on your neck? Just there, behind your ear.”
“Oh my God, leave!” Alec said, one hand slapped over the mark that lingered on his neck and the other one shot up to point irately to the door. He shut the door behind them and flopped heavily onto his lumpy mattress, ignoring Izzy’s cackling in the hallway. He should’ve known better than to ask his little sister and the redheaded pipsqueak for advice. He couldn’t deny that the young women were both fierce and strong. They could also be immense pain-in-the-necks when the mood struck them.
Picking up his discarded phone, Alec smiled when he saw Magnus’s name on his lock screen with several missed text messages.
MAGNUS (8:11 am): Good morning, darling!
MAGNUS (8:14 am): Lydia invited me to the Institute. I need to strengthen the wards. I’ll be there at 9:30.
MAGNUS (8:32 am): What are the chances your lovely mother is in Idris?”
MAGNUS (8:34 am): What are chances you’re naked right now? ;)
Alec grinned like an idiot at his phone. Even after nine months of dating, his stomach still fluttered annoyingly…even at the random text messages his boyfriend sent to him. Since the butterflies seemed to have become permanent tenants of his gut these days, Alec figured he’d have no choice but to learn to coexist with them.
Rolling onto his front, he pressed Magnus’s names in his contact list. He clicked on the video chat. Magnus picked up after three rings.
“Good morning, sunshine!” Magnus said cheerfully.
“Good morning,” Alec responded with a puzzled frown. “Why am I looking at your bathroom ceiling?”
“I’m just finishing up my hair. Hold on…” The ceiling blurred suddenly as the phone was tilted up to face the mirror. The warlock’s glittery iPhone was now propped up against a large red box on Magnus’s counter that Alec knew held the man’s make-up. Alec could see Magnus’s reflection in the mirror, along with a large portion of the bathroom. “How’s that, darling?”
“Much better,” Alec replied, resting his chin in the hand now holding onto his phone. “Sorry to disappoint, by the way. I’m fully clothed. Do you still want me?”
“Of course I still want you, lover,” Magnus replied with an easy smile. His fingers were working styling gel through his hair. Alec flushed at Magnus’s words. There was something rather…intimate about being referred to as ‘lover’. He gave the older man a pleased grin. “You could be wearing a bunny suit right now and I’d still want you,” Magnus added.
Alec snorted. “Under what insane circumstances would I ever have cause to dress up as a bunny?”
“I don’t know. Mundane Halloween party? Starting a bizarre new fashion trend? Too much to drink? Maybe so I could carry your cute, cuddly self around with me wherever I went.”
“You and I both know I don’t like parties, Magnus. I don’t like fashion trends. Carrying me around everywhere is probably a little impractical, not to mention a tall order…and really, have you ever gotten so drunk that you’ve dressed up as a bunny?”
Magnus pondered for a moment, “Well, no, not a bunny…Let’s not open that can of worms right now.”
Alec shook his head. His boyfriend was something else. “What if I dressed as a clown?”
Magnus paled and his eyes glanced at Alec’s face on his phone screen. “You know how I hate clowns! Don’t you dare dress like one.”
Alec smirked.
“I swear by the Angel, Alexander Gideon Lightwood; if you dress as a clown, I will find the biggest, most grotesque spider possible and put it on your pillow while you sleep,” Magnus said darkly.
It was Alec’ turn to whiten. He shuddered, looked over his shoulder to be sure there wasn’t suddenly a spider hanging around, and then looked back at his boyfriend.
“Okay. Okay! I promise, no clowns. I promise,” he rushed. He looked over his other shoulder.
“Relax, dearest,” Magnus said in a gentler voice. “…Kills demons without so much as a second thought but spiders…spiders scare my big, bad, Shadowhunter…” he muttered, more so to himself than to Alec.
Alec glared at his boyfriend’s handsome reflection and then Izzy’s earlier suggestion creeped unwelcomely into his head. “What if I dressed up as a—as a naughty schoolboy? What would you do then?”
He regretted it as soon as the question left his mouth but then it was too late; the words were out there into the air of the bathroom and absorbed by the warlock.
Magnus stopped coiffing his hair as he thought about it. Slowly, a grin crawled across his face.
“Well…well, then, I imagine that I’d have to bend you over my desk and teach you a very thorough lesson, Alexander,” Magnus murmured lowly. Alec didn’t know what kind of response he was expecting from Magnus, but it wasn’t…that.
A shiver ran down his spine and his body felt pleasantly warm.
Alec licked his dry lips absently.
“I have to say, I’m surprised at you, Alec,” his boyfriend continued casually as he finished molding his hair into perfection. “I didn’t think you’d ever suggest something like that.”
Alec didn’t mention that it had been his little sister’s idea. To be honest, if it were just Alec, he probably wouldn’t have ever thought of that scenario on his own. He’d never had much opportunity to experiment with sexuality. He rarely allowed himself to fantasize as a teenager because fantasizing would have meant admitting he was gay. For so many years, he wasn’t willing to admit it, even to himself.
Now everything was out in the open.
Now he…could. And, as much a Fifty Shades of Grey horrified Alec, the idea of kinky sex with Magnus was kind of…thrilling. Though, maybe not quite so…intense. After all, they’d only had sex once.
A mere week ago.
But, it had been incredible and Alec wanted more of it. All of it. He wanted to experiment. Something told him Magnus wouldn’t have any objections to that.
“Well,” Alec said after clearing his throat a little awkwardly, “I’m full of surprises.”
“You certainly are,” was all Magnus agreed.
“Magnus,” Alec said after a moment.
“Yes?”
“Would you please just tell me what you want for your Birthday? A—a hint or something. Anything.”
Magnus sighed and washed his hands in the sink longer than it was necessary. He dried his hands on a fluffy towel. “I told you at least seventeen times that I don’t want anything, sweetheart. We’re going to have a nice evening together. That’s all I need. No gifts necessary…” he picked up his iPhone and peered into Alec’s face. “So, stop worrying your pretty little head over such trivial things and meet me outside the Institute in five minutes. It’s best to get all my kisses in before your mother swoops in like a vulture wanting to tear me into bite-sized pieces.”
Alec gave an uneasy chuckle. “Yeah. She does that…” he looked at his boyfriend apologetically.
Magnus smiled at him back. “It’ll be fine. “I’m rubber and she’s glue and all that.”
“I think Izzy and I used to use that phrase when we were like…eight.”
Magnus shrugged. “I’ll have you know that I know that I invented that idiom in the nineteen-twenties.”
“Did you really,” Alec stated in a voice that clearly implied he didn’t believe Magnus at all.
“No, but I could have.”
“Yes, you could’ve. If you thought of it first. But you didn’t.” He wondered vaguely, how many long-deceased people were rolling around in their graves because some other person, doused heavily in hair gel and glitter, was taking credit for their famous words, inventions, or other worldly contributions. He tried not to laugh at Magnus's antics.
Magnus sighed theatrically. “You’re so very salty before your morning coffee, young Lightwood. Come outside and kiss me. I’ll see you in three minutes. Love you.”
“Love you, too,” Alec replied, shaking his head as he hung up his phone. As soon as Magnus’s face winked to a black screen, Alec rolled out of bed, shoved his feet into his boots and shuffled out of his bedroom.
He’d had absolutely no success in procuring a gift idea for Magnus. What did one get a centuries-old warlock who had literally everything, for his birthday, anyway?
…
Magnus didn’t like many people. Years and years of dealing with all sorts of corruption, cold-hearted, and selfish people had calloused his heart. Oh, he could be genial. He wasn’t so cold, like Camille was, who only used people for her own amusement. He’d just developed reservations when meeting new people. He wasn’t one to open his heart left it get broken, again.
Then Alec came into his life and unintentionally upturned everything. Magnus didn’t believe in love at first sight. That whole concept was laughable. Love…love was deeper than that. He wouldn’t trivialize the intensity of his love for Alec by declaring it an instantaneous thing.
No. It had only been an instant attraction. Lust, really. Lust was always quicker and easier to manifest itself, than love.
Then they spoke. Some bad joke about meat. It was charming.
Magnus flirted, shamelessly.
Then he’d discovered Alec’s struggle with accepting himself.
Magnus had…sympathized. He knew what it was like to feel like an outcast. To feel lesser. However, Magnus learned how to command a room. He learned how to stop caring what others in the room thought of him, and say what was on his mind anyway. He learned to live for himself. He learned how to take pride in his differences.
He hoped, someday, Alec would get there too. While the younger man had undeniably grown since Magnus had known him, Magnus could tell that Alec still felt shame for being gay. Disappointed that he couldn’t just be straight, because then things would be simpler for him. He’d be more readily accepted by others.
While the young man had a very impressive poker-face, Magnus could see that wounded look in those big hazel eyes of his every time Alec would get a passive-aggressive text from Maryse or whenever Robert eyed them warily if his son and Magnus were within ten feet of each other. It was there, hidden beneath a standoffish expression.
Magnus’s heart broke a little each time he saw that desolate look in Alec’s eyes.
Now, inside the Institute as his boyfriend stood by him looking uneasy under the watchful eyes of his mother, was one of those times. Magnus was barely listening to the conversation behind him as he recreated the symbols needed for the wards over the Institute…and then, it happened.
“…services are rather costly, today. I rather remember your bill being steep, but this is—”
“It’s fine,” Lydia murmured, taking the contractual agreement smoothly from Maryse’s hand. “The amount, of course, will be paid in full.” She paused before adding warmly, “I’m grateful for your help, Magnus, as always. Thank you.”
“Not a problem at all, dear Lydia,” Magnus said, finishing the last seal with a resolute snap of his fingers. He turned around and smiled at the blonde woman cordially. She had a good heart and was always kind to Magnus, even after he crashed her wedding and made out with her groom.
Maryse observed him stiffly. Her hair was pulled back in a tight ponytail, her clothes were form-fitting, but modest, and she wore an expression of poorly concealed for distaste. “If that is all, then, Alec,” she said crisply, her eyes flitting over to her statue of a son, “please escort your…warlock out of the Institute.”
It wasn’t as bad as it could have been. Sure, Maryse was being spiteful, but it could’ve gotten uglier. He cocked an eyebrow aloofly and turned to his boyfriend.
He stopped.
Alec’s face had grown stony as he regarded his mother. His spine became rigid. His hands clenched down by his sides and his eyes narrowed.
“That ‘warlock’ has a name, Mother,” Alec said in a quiet, deep voice. He sounded disappointed. “It’s Magnus, in case you’ve forgotten. Or maybe you’re just too self-righteous to bother to remember, I don’t know anymore. But-but despite whatever issues you have, he doesn’t deserve to be treated like he’s beneath you whenever he comes here. He’s just trying to help us.”
For a split-second, Magnus noted an abashed look on Maryse’s face but then her eyes flashed and she rounded onto her eldest son. She scoffed.
“He is only trying to help you. He doesn’t care what happens to anyone else in this building and you know that. Don’t be so gullible, Alec. If you weren’t ‘dating’ him, he would not care what happens to you, either. Don’t fool yourself into believing his motives here are anything but selfish.”
Alec gritted his teeth. “At least he’s trying to help someone else,” Alec started. His voice was brittle and not as soft as it was a moment ago. “All you ever do is help yourself. I’m not going to sit around and watch you debase Magnus. Warlock or not, I’m starting to think he’s got more compassion in his little finger than you have in your whole body.”
Robert looked between his son and wife with wide eyes. He placed a hand out towards each of them complacently.
Magnus watched on, dumbfounded.
There was so much he wanted to say to Maryse Lightwood. So much he could say to put her in her place. Part of him desperately wanted to wake her the fuck up and force her to realize what she was doing to her son.
However, Magnus knew that it wasn’t his place. He’d stand by Alec’s side, of course. He’d stay for as long as the young man wanted him to stay. He’d protect him, do anything for him that he could, but this…this wasn’t one of those things.
This was Alec’s fight.
Magnus swallowed. He remained silent.
Robert, however, didn’t get the memo. He took a step between them like a physical, bald-headed buffer.
“I think we all need to calm down. Alec, why don’t you and Ma—”
“No,” Alec interjected. His voice was low and even.
He was…he was commanding the room.
Even the onlookers were stunned into silence. The ever-obedient Lightwood heir was disobeying his parents. It was like Magnus was watching Alec up on that altar all over again.
“No,” Alec repeated. “I’m done with everyone making excuses for all the goddamn prejudices around here! Magnus is more than just a warlock or a Downworlder. He’s a good man and I love him. I—I refuse to apologize for that! I’m not ashamed of who I am and I wish you both weren’t ashamed of who I am, either. But if you are, that’s on you. Not me. Not Magnus. That’s on you.”
Magnus’s heart clenched in his chest. His hands shook by his sides so he crossed his arms to hide them.
“This is hardly about me or your father,” Maryse said coldly. “My personal feelings aside, Alec, it’s you who who’s tarnishing the Lightwood name. Everyone here, everyone back in Idris, knows Alec Lightwood as the boy who ran away from his own wedding and into the arms of a warlock. Nothing else we’ve accomplished here matters anymore! Years of hard work and dedication wasted so that you can play house with a Downworlder! Instead of behaving like a child, perhaps you should own up to what you’ve done to this family.”
Alec let out a (slightly hysterical) laugh. “I’m not going to live a lie so you can sleep easier at night, Mom! I have my truth, I’ve accepted it, and I sleep just fine now. In bed, with Magnus,” he snapped, a slight flush developed on his high cheekbones and his nostrils flared. Magnus could see that Alec was barely managing to keep a level-head anymore. “Honestly, I’ve never felt so goddamn happy in my life! Your opinion—or anyone else’s—doesn’t matter to me anymore.”
“Happy?” Maryse shot back incredulously. Her voice was frigid. “These choices you’re making in your youthful naivety are going to ruin your life, Alec.”
“Choice?” Alec gave another short, derisive laugh. Magnus itched to wrap his arms around him, to sooth him, to sooth the ache he knew Alec was feeling in his chest. “That’s the problem, isn’t it? You act like my being gay was a choice I made as some personal vendetta against you! It’s who I am! I am not sorry because I’ve done nothing wrong…It’s not like I chose to join the Circle with Valentine.” Robert flinched and Maryse reeled back slightly as if she were slapped. Still, Alec wasn’t done. “All I did was fall in love a someone who just happens to be a warlock, too. But, you know what, even if I could change things, I wouldn’t ever want to give up what I have with Magnus…and if you loved me, Mom, you wouldn’t want me to, either. Enough is enough,” his voice broke slightly but Alec shook his head like he was physically trying to clear his head before finally moving away.
The younger man walked passed them all, ignoring the eyes of those around him that had stopped to watch the fallout, and reached for Magnus’s hand. Magnus took it immediately. He could feel Alec’s hand trembling the tiniest bit. His palm was dampened from nerves.
Magnus’s was too.
He didn’t trust himself to say anything, though.
They barged through the doors of the Institute, stepped down onto the lawn, and Magnus wasted no time portalling them both home.
…
Alec couldn’t breathe as he stumbled out of the portal into Magnus’s apartment. The warlock reached out to steady him before he was guided to Magnus’s couch and pushed gently onto it. His mind was whirring. For several minutes, it was like he’d been a man possessed.
Magnus was pushing something into his hands—a warm coffee he must’ve acquired magically from the Starbucks a couple blocks down. Alec took a sip gratefully. It was black, with sugar, just like he preferred. Magnus was crouched down in front of him, one of his hands rubbing his knee reassuringly.
“Are you going to be all right, Alexander?” Magnus asked him after a minute. Alec nodded his head.
“Yeah. Did that—did that really just happen?” Alec asked, looking at Magnus bewilderedly. “I don’t…I don’t what came over me, Magnus. She just…She wouldn’t stop looking like—that. Like it was this terrible thing to be in the same room with you! You don’t deserve that and I’m so sorry,” Alec said miserably. “I didn’t mean to make a scene. I—by the Angel, I-I made a huge scene, didn’t I? I just…it was like something in me finally snapped. I just couldn’t take it anymore. It’s been almost a year and she’s still—” Alec broke off with an expression of horrified distress. Magnus took the coffee out of his hand and set it on the coffee table wordlessly.
Magnus rose to his feet, cupped the side of Alec’s face, and leaned in for a firm kiss. His lips were warm against Alec’s, slightly possessive, and Alec tugged Magnus onto the couch with him, causing the man to land halfway on top of him.
Then he felt it…tasted it on his tongue.
Salt water.
A tear…
Alec pulled back, his eyes wide as he looked at his boyfriend.
His boyfriend, who was crying. Another lone tear beaded up and slid down his cheek.
Alec had never seen Magnus crying before.
Sure, he had witnessed the man in many emotional states before; angry, happy and sad…but never to the point he…cried. Frowning, Alec lightly thumbed the tear.
One more followed. He wiped that away too.
“Why?” Alec whispered, looking at Magnus worriedly.
Magnus’s eyes fluttered shut and he shook his head from side-to-side before dropping his head down onto Alec’s shoulder. The held onto each other but Alec couldn’t seem to slow his hammering heart. Why was Magnus crying? It…couldn’t have been his Mother’s words. Magnus never let Maryse get to him.
“Magnus…?” Alec murmured. “Please don’t. Please don’t cry. I love you, don’t cry…” Alec wasn’t good at this. He wasn’t good at dealing with emotions. Not his own and certainly not anyone else’s. How did he do this? How did he make Magnus feel better? He clutched the older man tightly to him.
After a long moment, Magnus finally withdrew his neck and wiped away the dampness left on his face. His eyes were shiny but free of tears as he gazed intently and Alec once more.
“I’m so proud of you,” Magnus told him quietly. He reached down and took both of Alec’s hands into his own decorated ones. “Alec, I am so, so proud of you.”
Alec stared at him, dumbfounded.
“That’s why you’re crying?” Magnus nodded, chuckling slightly as he brought Alec’s hands up and kissed the back of each one.
“Centuries' worth of birthdays and that’s by far the best gift I’ve ever gotten from— from anyone. Oh, sweetheart…” He kissed Alec again.
“I don’t get it,” Alec told him between peppered kisses. “I really don’t get it. What is happening right now?”
“Alec...Shadowhunters and Downworlders don’t mix. You know that. But—but for you to do that—to stick up for me like that in front of so many people, to your own mother...” Magnus scrubbed a hand over his face and Alec was astonished by Magnus’s lack of his usual eloquence. “It’s more than that though. So much more. I love you for what you said about me...but what I love more, Alexander, is what you’ve said about yourself.”
He squeezed Alec’s hands.
“I know it’s not easy being different. Trust me. I mean, this is coming from a bisexual, Asian warlock who wears glitter and nail polish,” he grinned wryly, shaking his head. “It’s not easy. People are judgmental. Whether you’re a Mundane or a Nephilim or a Downworlder, the world can be cruel to us all. But the best thing you can do, Alec, is to accept yourself for everything that you are and everything that you are not. That’s why I’m proud of you.”
Alec chewed on his lips as Magnus let go of his hands in favor of settling down snuggly beside him. They sat in silence for a minute.
“I just wish my mother would…accept me, too. Why doesn’t she accept me?” his voice grew quiet and Alec wasn’t sure himself if he was asking Magnus or an invisible force in the universe for answers.
Magnus looked doleful and he stared straight ahead at the far brick wall but Alec could tell he wasn’t really seeing it.
He was lost in something else.
“Sometimes, the truth can be unnerving to those who don’t understand. I’m not stranger to mothers who have a hard time accepting their son.”
Alec turned to look at Magnus in surprise. Magnus never talked about his family. Considering that the man had outlived them all, Alec imagined that the pain of loss made it difficult to bring up. By the way Magnus sounded strained and distant, he couldn’t help but wonder (not for the first time) what Magnus Bane’s childhood was really like.
Magnus’s eyes darted back to his face without the glamour and Alec reveled in the amber-colored cat-eyes that he’d come to love.
Realization hit him harsher than a bucket of ice water poured over his head.
“Oh…” his heart sank to the floor.
Magnus blew air through his pursed lips like he was trying to expel bad memories. “She hung herself out in our barn when my warlock marks showed up as a child. I was ten. Turns out, taking her own life was easier than accepting that her son was fathered by a demon and not her actual husband...Regrettably, this tends to be the reality for many of my kind. Most parents don’t love discovering that they have half-demonic offspring, after all,” Magnus surmised for him with an empty smile. His eyes phazed back to dark brown and stayed that way. Alec squeezed Magnus’s knee in comfort.
“I’m so sorry, Magnus.”
Magnus shook the apology off. “It’s all ancient history, Alec. A thing of the past. I think, in your case, your mother will come around in due course. Maryse is…I think much of her issues are rooted in her own insecurities. She’s ashamed of some of her own life choices and that makes her quick to want to place blame on the shoulders of other people. If she belittles others, in turn, she ends up feeling better about herself.”
“That makes sense. It certainly sounds like her lately,” Alec agreed moodily. “She’s not one to be easily swayed from her opinions, either.”
“If, in time, she cannot accept you, then she does not deserve to have such an extraordinary man for a son,” Magnus said firmly.
“I love her," he croaked, "I’m frustrated, and angry, and hurt, but she's still my mother and I still love her.”
“I know, sayang, I know you do.” Magnus shifted and kissed the corner of Alec’s mouth tenderly.
Alec smiled weakly and then he rested his head against the back of the couch in silence for a while as he sorted through the chaos of his mind.
“You know it’s because of you, right?” he stated eventually. “That I’ve learned to accept it all? I didn’t want to tell anyone. I figured if I played it safe, if I followed the rules, then no one would ever find out. I was hell-bent on never letting my emotions get in the way. I always said that—that they were too much of a distraction. That’s why I pushed you away: because you made me feel, for the first time in a long time, you made me feel something other than this-this feeling of hopelessness that I had festering inside me. It was all so confusing and it made me so frustrated with you because at first I thought you didn’t understand. That you were playing games...I thought you didn’t respect how much my family means to me.”
The words flowed past Alec’s lips on their own accord. He expected Magnus to stop him after that, to defend himself or something, but Magnus just sat there quietly, legs crossed like Alec’s were now, with one painted hand resting on Alec’s worn jean-clad thigh. He was letting Alec say what he needed to say, which felt great, because for once, Alec had a lot to say.
“I was going to marry Lydia. I was going to live a lie because the reality of being gay was too terrifying to face. I was so desperate to help my parents, to make them proud of me for once, that I was willing to sacrifice my own happiness to do so. I felt so sick at the wedding. Every part in me was screaming at me to not go through with it but I pushed those emotions down like I always do and I ignored them. I was going to marry her, because I had a duty to my family.
“And then you showed up and—I couldn’t breathe. And I knew I couldn’t go through with it. I knew then, that you were never really trying to play games with my head like I accused you of. I knew then, that-that you were just trying to save me from making this huge mistake. Truth is, Magnus, I think, in a way, you understood me better than I understood myself. You knew I had a duty to my family but you didn’t want me to ignore the fact that I had a duty to myself, as well. You helped me realize that—that it’s better to be true to myself, you know? That I deserve to be with someone I could really love. In every way. I guess you could say you’ve…unlocked something in me. Something that it turns out I really kind of…like.” Alec finished.
In that moment, Alec realized that regardless of whatever backlash he would have to face at the Institute later, despite his parents' issues with his lifestyle, nothing could ruin the way he felt right now. He felt lighter. He felt, for the first time in months, even years, that the future was full of possibility.
Magnus beamed, and his eyes were glassy again as he pressed a soft, lingering kiss to Alec’s forehead. He carded his fingers through Alec’s hair before standing up. Magnus offered a hand to Alec who observed it perplexedly.
“I haven’t danced in ages—aside from club dancing of course, which isn’t the same at all. For years before you, there was no one in a long time that inspired me. I used to love to dance, though. I suppose I’ve just missed having a partner worth dancing with…So, Alexander Lightwood, will you dance with me?” Magnus asked with a smile that seemed to light up his face. Alec took his hand in wonder and allowed himself to be guided off the sofa.
“What?” Alec said blinking rapidly. “Da—? But—but there’s…no music,” Alec pointed out, his stomach twisting apprehensively.
He was not a dancer.
He was most definitely, not a dancer.
“'And those who were seen dancing were thought to be insane by those who could not hear the music…’” Magnus quoted flippantly. “But if music accompaniment is what you prefer, then—” he snapped his fingers and soft classical music floated through the room pleasantly.
Damn it.
“Let me guess: you, in the sixteenth century?” Alec quipped.
Magnus looked mildly offended. “Friedrich Nietzsche was not alive in the sixteenth century, you sassy little Nephilim,” the warlock admonished without missing a beat. “And no I never bedded him,” he added when Alec opened his mouth. “Don’t try to change the subject.”
“Magnus,” Alec protested, “I can’t dance!”
Magnus shook his head as he pulled Alec away from the couch and into a more open space. “Sure you can, darling. Everyone can dance. I’m not asking for the Tango or the Waltz, here. Keep it simple and you’ll be fine, I promise. You know what they say, ‘fake it ‘til you make it’,” Magnus said optimistically. “...Also not me,” he added swiftly.
He wrapped his arms around Alec’s waist and Alec wound his arms around the other man’s broad shoulders, feeling doubtful. It was more of a hug than proper dancing form.
“Just so you know, it's your own toes at risk here,” Alec told him drolly. Magnus tilted his head up to kiss him on the mouth.
“A risk I am more than willing to take,” he murmured into Alec’s shoulder.
"..."
It was simple.
It was like one of those awkward school-dances in the movies where the couple clung to each other and shifted from foot-to-foot so that they slowly turned around in small circles.
It hardly qualified as an actual dance.
It was…
It was kind of great, Alec decided.
He pressed his cheek against the side of Magnus’s head. “Magnus?” he asked after a while.
“Yes?”
“Do you think we can make it?”
Magnus pulled away the tiniest bit to look at Alec. His eyes were warm and loving, his hands were a firm presence on the Shadowhunter's hips.
“I believe we can make it, my Alexander. I truly believe we can.”
The fucking butterflies were back.
A million, beautiful, wonderful, magnificent, butterflies.
That’s—that’s what I want, Magnus, more than anything,” Alec confessed, his face a hairsbreadth away from the other man’s. He closed the space between them and brushed their lips together in a whisper of a kiss.
“…That’s what I want.”