Chapter Text
Magnus was in danger. Magnus was in danger.
Okay, Alec thought, slow down. Magnus probably was not actually in danger. Magnus was hardly ever in danger—he got himself into danger, but he always got himself out of it in a typically swashbuckling and earthshakingly powerful way. The day that Magnus was truly in danger, Alec feared for the fate of the whole city.
Nevertheless, Magnus was undoubtedly in a dangerous situation, and while Alec knew that Magnus didn’t need his help, he wanted him to have it anyway. On whatever catastrophic day Magnus did need to be saved, Alec wanted Magnus to know he would be there, as he had every time before.
He sped around the corner onto a dilapidated Brooklyn street, past hollowed-out storefronts and the occasional one-story house that looked as if it had been left empty for years, paint flaking, weeds growing over in the yard. There was no way, Alec thought—though perhaps these were Magnus’s thoughts, picked up from many a rant, as Alec did not normally pay attention to Mundane real estate—that some developer hadn’t snatched up this land to build more hypermodern apartments in swiftly-gentrifying Greenpoint. Something must have happened here, some supernatural occurrence subconsciously urging mundanes to stay away, like magical nuclear fallout. He wondered if that was what Magnus had tracked here.
He followed the trail of Magnus’s magic over the cracked, wavering pavement, stepping carefully where roots pushed up through the road. Alec wasn’t sure when, exactly, he’d developed a sixth sense for Magnus’s magic. Probably he was only noticing it so vividly now because he had kissed him. Oh, things had really gotten so messy.
(Was that why Magnus hadn’t called him for help? Because Alec had kissed him?)
He pushed the thought of kissing Magnus out of his head. The important thing was that he could feel him. Magnus’s magic was a golden glow in his mind’s eye, like the afterimage of a bright light. It washed down the street in waves of power, of anger, swirling like a hurricane around a particular crumbling townhouse at the end of the road.
Alec wondered what could have possibly made Magnus so angry. He almost didn’t want to know.
He pushed forward into the waves of power, seraph blade alight in his grip, and crept up the steps of the townhouse, pushing open the splintering door with a light hand. It creaked, but Alec barely heard it over the whoosh of magic that swept over him, swirling loose papers and leaves into the air. When it touched him, it prickled with recognition, tickling the back of his neck. Alec made to walk forward again, and the magic gave him a little shove backwards, as if to say, get out of here. Stay safe.
As if.
He continued through the house, sweeping around the cracked banister and down the uneven stairs toward the basement, where the locus of Magnus’s magic seemed to be centered. The basement was pitch black in the night, and were it not for his witchlight and night vision rune, he would have probably missed the bottom of the stairs. He followed Magnus’s magic, which now burned hot around him, sitting heavy in the dusty air, pressing on his chest. He rushed around the corner—a move that would have made even Jace cringe for its recklessness—blade raised and glowing—
Magnus was sitting in a sagging armchair in the middle of the dilapidated room, hands steepled on his crossed knees, apparently completely at ease despite the magic buzzing all around him. Alec was so caught up in the bizarre image of this that he didn’t even notice the two warlocks tied up on the floor until one yelped at his appearance. Magnus really ruined all of Alec’s good senses, not that he would have it any other way.
“Alexander!” Magnus said cheerfully, eyes brightening. But Alec could hear the tense undercurrent in his voice, not directed at him, he didn’t think. “I wondered when you’d be joining us.”
“Next time, just send me the address, and we won’t have to do all this running around,” Alec said, and Magnus chuckled.
“Oh, but what’s the fun in that? It’s so endearing when you come to rescue me.”
“Doesn’t look like you need rescuing.” Alec stepped further into the room, eyeing the two bound warlocks who were futilely trying to summon magic in their bindings. “What the hell is going on here?”
“Despicable crimes,” Magnus said, which Alec had already assumed. Magnus smiled at the warlocks, and there was something horribly sharp about his teeth. Alec figured it should have been unsettling, but it only made something aching stir in chest, affection and want for this fierce, powerful man. “Would you like to explain yourselves to my friend here?”
The warlocks cowered away from Alec. “Send the Shadowhunter away,” said one bravely. He had bright blue hair and was inexplicably wearing an Ariana Grande concert t-shirt. Alec didn’t think that seemed like normal attire for despicable crimes. If anything, Magnus’s clothes seemed more suited to that sort of thing, except Magnus wore chokers and chains when he was merely going out for boba, so maybe he wasn’t a good benchmark. “This is warlock business, not the Clave’s.”
Magnus waved a hand, and the warlocks’ eyes tracked his movement nervously. “Oh, the Spiral Labyrinth will deal with you. Alexander’s merely here to deal with me. Isn’t he a darling?”
The warlocks didn’t seem to agree. “The Shadowhunter will kill us,” the second one hissed. He was wearing a button-up shirt and a comb-over like a tax attorney. God, what a pair.
“No, he won’t,” said Magnus casually. “I might, though. Don’t test me.”
Alec still wondered what the warlocks had done to make Magnus so angry.
The warlocks exchanged a glance, looking down at their hands and then back up at Magnus. Oh, God. They were going to do something stupid.
“Magnus!” Alec shouted, just as the two warlocks moved.
They joined their hands, pushing magic outward and breaking the bonds, then lurched to their feet, already swinging fireballs and slinging magic. Quite smartly, they went for Magnus first—but that left Alec plenty of opening to lunge between them, whipping up his seraph blade to block the first blow. The blade and magic screeched on impact, and the magic bounced off somewhere before fizzling out.
Alec’s arm throbbed, but he didn’t have time to address it, as the second fireball had sailed past his head towards Magnus. Alec turned, but he needn’t have worried—Magnus caught the fireball in a magic-gloved hand and hurled it back, striking the warlock in the chest and knocking him over.
The tax attorney warlock lunged forward with a slashing blow of magic, and Alec skipped backwards. The magic glanced off his cheek, cutting into the skin, but Alec carved his blade up, slicing the stream of it in half and sending the warlock staggering backward. Alec followed him and kicked him in the chest, sending him to the ground, then knelt over him to hold him down and laid the edge of his seraph blade against his throat.
“I wouldn’t move,” he warned, and the warlock nodded rapidly. Based on the lack of sound of a scuffle, Alec assumed Magnus had subdued the blue-haired one again.
“You don’t manhandle me in that way,” Magnus grumbled behind him.
Was he teasing? Was he flirting? Did he want that? Recently, Alec felt that he’d suddenly lost all his ability to understand Magnus, like he’d drawn his bow only to find that the string had snapped moments before releasing. After years of rapport so close he could predict what Magnus was going to say half the time before he said it, Alec had been thrown into the dark, and he couldn’t help but feel it was his fault.
Should never have kissed him, he thought. Should never—
“Do you want to cuff him?” Alec asked, shaking himself.
“Don’t you carry cuffs?”
“Only adamas ones. It’ll burn him.”
“He deserves it.”
If Magnus thought their crimes were worthy of that sort of punishment, Alec wouldn’t contest him. He cuffed the man and hauled him upright, sheathing his blade in the same movement.
When he turned, Magnus had the other one bound in magic again, still on the floor. He came to stand by Alec’s side, angry magic fizzling over every inch of his skin. Alec laid a cautious hand on his shoulder, unsure if it was a good idea, but he had to do something.
But Magnus softened, clasping his hand over Alec’s for a moment before dropping it and summoning a pen and parchment. He scribbled away a fire message, presumably to the Spiral Labyrinth, and moments later, a portal opened, two warlock guards stepping out. Magnus nodded at them, and they nodded back, apparently having learned all they needed to from Magnus’s missive.
“What did they do?” Alec asked as the guards seized the two warlocks.
“Oh, only feeding babies to demons,” Magnus said. His tone was nonchalant, but his magic seethed between them.
“We weren’t feeding them!” yelped the tax attorney. “Just taking some of their life force! They lived!”
“Ah, why didn’t you say?” Magnus’s voice was full of false cheer. “That clears everything up!” The warlocks looked at him hopefully, and Magnus’s smile dropped, eyes glinting dangerously. “I’m kidding, you selfish idiots,” he snapped, and with a wave of his arm, declared, “Soldiers, take them to the brig!”
“I’m pretty sure it’s only a ‘brig’ on a ship,” Alec murmured.
“And all of the earth is one ship travelling through space. Don’t get pedantic with me, Alexander. You won’t win that fight.”
He was probably right; Alec could never best Magnus in wordplay. Nevertheless, he whispered, “And the Spiral Labyrinth isn’t on earth,” and was rewarded by one of Magnus’s charmed smiles.
The warlocks were marched towards the portal. “This is inhumane!” shrieked one.
“No, this is what’s called, facing the consequences of your actions,” Magnus informed him. “And you’ll have a trial. Though I look forward to seeing what you could possibly muster as a defense.”
The warlocks deflated, and were almost through the portal when Magnus held up a hand. “One more thing.”
They waited, and Magnus took tax attorney warlock by the collar, pressing him up against the wall, making sure the other warlock could see. He didn’t need to use much force. The man seemed cowed by his very presence, stepping back at the mere touch of his fingers until he was on his tiptoes, stretching away from him up the wall.
“All we have,” Magnus started, quiet and deadly as the shiver of a snake across the ground, “all we have ever had, is each other. We have been hunted by the Clave. We have been burned as witches by mundanes, and brutalized by our demonic parents. We are separated from the wolves by our immortality, from the vampires by our living blood, and from the Seelies by their angelic heritage. But, few though we are, warlocks have always had each other. How dare you break that compact? How dare you take our precious few young ones, not even old enough to know their magic, and use them for your own gain?” Magnus shoved the warlock away from him and the man, still bound, fell to the floor. He didn’t dare speak. Alec could see the fear in his eyes.
Magnus turned away. “Get out of my sight. And if I see either of you again, you’ll wish you were at the Clave’s mercy, instead of mine.”
When they were gone, his shoulders slumped, righteousness draining from his posture. He scrubbed his hands through his hair, separating the gel into scattered strands, sparks of anxious magic trailing from his fingertips and leaving streaks of blue in their wake. “Why is the world still like this, Alexander?” he whispered.
Alec’s heart ached to see him despairing. He rested a hand on his shoulder again, and Magnus turned into him, just slightly, reducing the space between their bodies. “I don’t know, but I know it’s better with you in it.”
Magnus smiled up at him weakly, a bit of spark back in his eyes. “You always know what to say.”
Except Alec didn’t, because he had kissed him. They hadn’t talked about it, and Alec didn’t know where they stood, and he hated that, hated having uncertainty with Magnus.
But… Magnus had kissed back. Hadn’t he?
Magnus turned to him more fully, pressing a finger to Alec’s cheek under the cut the warlock’s magic had left. He tutted. “Look what he did to you.”
“It’s barely a papercut,” Alec insisted.
Still, Magnus swept his thumb over the cut, healing it in a wave of warm magic, then wiped the blood on his probably very expensive jacket. Alec stared at him, struck still by the feeling of Magnus’s hand so gentle on his face, and Magnus’s lips quirked up in a half-smile. “No need to look so starstruck,” he teased, “it’s only me.”
Yeah, that’s why I’m starstruck, Alec thought. He wondered if he should mention it. The kiss. Instead, he said, “Do you want me to report this to the Clave?”
Magnus bit his lip, stepping back and breaking the moment. He was all business when he spoke again. “Give me a day to think. There’s something about this incident that’s nagging at me, and I want to do some investigating. If I think it’s bigger than this and requires Institute involvement, I will let you know.”
Alec nodded. “Is that why this whole place is abandoned?” he asked. “Because they were doing some ritual?”
Magnus looked surprised. “You could sense that?”
“Call it an intuition I picked up from a talented friend,” Alec said with a small smile, and Magnus looked charmed.
“Probably so. The whole area is tainted now, I’m afraid to say. Dark magic tends to linger. Decays things, too—I doubt this has been going on more than a month, but as you can see, the place has acquired years’ worth of dilapidation.”
Alec had noticed. “Are you okay to get home?” he asked.
Magnus’s eyes sparkled. He looked so pretty like that. Then again, he always looked pretty. “I’ve barely used any magic, don’t worry.”
“That’s not what I meant.”
Magnus softened so beautifully when he realized what Alec did mean. Angel, Alec wanted to kiss him again, but he’d sworn to himself he wouldn’t, not until they’d talked about it. “I’m upset, of course, but I’ll be alright, darling. It’s certainly not the first time I’ve seen such cruelty.”
Alec thought that was horrible, not that he couldn’t say the same about himself. “Do you think the children actually lived?”
“It’s possible. I will try to track them down, though I expect it will be challenging.”
“If anything turns up on our sensors, I’ll let you know.”
Magnus touched a hand to his arm, then summoned a portal, gesturing for Alec to step through. Alec assumed it went to the Institute. Before Alec went, Magnus called out to him again. “Oh, Alexander?”
Alec turned back over his shoulder to find Magnus looking uncharacteristically shy. “Perhaps you’ll come over tonight? When you’ve finished your work, that is.”
Nerves and hope sat with equal weight in Alec’s chest. “I will.”
The kiss had been an accident.
Well, Alec didn’t think it was possible to kiss someone entirely by accident. But he certainly hadn’t been intending to do it until the moment it happened.
He’d been riding an incredible battle high, the rush of a successful mission thrumming in his veins, already jumping out of his skin—and then he’d seen Magnus. Magnus, who’d been on this mission but separated from him for most of it, who had ichor drenching his shirt and char marks up and down his clothes but who was whole and strong and beautiful, bright eyes, broad shoulders, proud tilt to his head, and Alec wanted him so badly.
He strode over to him, not thinking, pounding heart pulling him forward, and Magnus met him halfway. Alec could only imagine what he looked like. He was drenched in sweat and demon blood, hair a disaster, which it already was on a good day. But Magnus didn’t shy away. He looked up at Alec with something like challenge in his eyes, and Alec felt hot, on the verge of combusting under Magnus’s gaze.
And he took Magnus’s face between his hands, and kissed him.
Magnus made a startled sound into his mouth, like he hadn’t expected Alec to actually do it. And really, Alec shouldn’t have—but he was in it now, and once he’d had a taste of Magnus’s mouth, he couldn’t bear to pull away, he wanted more.
Magnus’s hand landed on his chest and he dragged him closer. His mouth crushed against Alec’s, their lips slotting unevenly together, and Alec couldn’t breathe, didn’t want to. He took his air from Magnus’s mouth instead, and it was more than enough.
They kissed, and Alec’s reason disappeared, as it so often did around Magnus, leaving nothing behind but the ecstasy of actually kissing him. For a moment, he wasn’t worried about anything.
Then Izzy said, from somewhere off to his side, “Alec.”
Alec startled back, breaking from Magnus’s mouth with genuine pain. Magnus let out a whine that he quickly tamped off, and they both turned to Izzy. She looked between them, but didn’t comment on it. “This thing isn’t over,” she told them. “There’s more demons.”
Magnus straightened up, flattening his rumpled jacket and rearranging his hair, which Alec had somehow managed to get his hands in without even realizing. He was all seriousness again, ignoring the redness of his mouth, ignoring Alec. Fuck, shit, fuck—
“Lead the way,” he said to Izzy, and started following her, and Alec wanted to call him back but what would he even say?
Instead he just followed, and Magnus glanced over his shoulder at him, a strange look—guilt?—in his eyes. Alec didn’t know what was happening to his heart, it felt deranged, spinning all over the place in his chest.
And minutes later, they were separated by battle once again.
That had been three days ago. They hadn’t talked about it since. They’d seen each other, once, before the incident with the two warlocks, but Magnus had been cautious, reserved, so Alec hadn’t pushed it in case he didn’t want to talk about it at all.
Today, at least, it had been easier. But Alec still didn’t know what he was going to say when he went to Magnus’s that night. Surely, that was what Magnus wanted to talk about.
God, if Alec destroyed them over one moment of broken control, he would never forgive himself. It had all been so stupid. It had been mere impulse, years of feelings bubbling up and exploding out. It wasn’t considered, it was nothing like how Alec usually conducted himself. And what if Magnus thought that was all it was? Adrenaline and recklessness? Worse, what if he thought it was more?
Alec wished he could say he didn’t regret it, but if he lost Magnus over it…
“Okay,” Izzy said, perching on his desk as Alec typed up a report—not about the warlock thing, because he’d kept his word to Magnus on that. It was another thing, because there was always another thing. “What the hell is going on with you and Magnus? Are you together? Because he was really weird with me yesterday.”
“We’re just friends,” Alec said, trying to pretend the words didn’t hurt him, and Izzy snorted. “Wait, what do you mean, weird?”
“Distant. Like he was thinking too much about his words. Friends, huh?”
“Yes,” Alec insisted through his teeth. “Friends. Is that wrong?”
It felt wrong to Alec. He didn’t know when things had changed, when his simmering feelings for Magnus had grown into an inferno. He only knew that one day, being Magnus’s friend had gone from being a comfort to being a knife pressing into his heart. Seeing Magnus, his brilliant smile, his fluid grace when he cast magic, his strength and power, it shot something straight through him, so piercing he thought he might die.
The only thing that could possibly hurt more was ruining things between them.
Izzy shrugged. “You can do ‘friends’ however you want. That kiss just did not look extremely platonic to me.”
“Well we don’t do it a lot,” Alec snapped, then felt bad for snapping at her. He squeezed her hand. “Sorry.”
She patted his head like he was a puppy. “It’s okay. I think it’d probably mess anybody up pretty good, having a crush on Magnus.”
“What the hell does that mean?”
“It means he’s a fucking incredible immortal powerhouse who’s intimidating to even talk to, and then when you do talk to him, he’s so kind and charming that it’s impossible not to fall in love instantly.”
Oh. Well, that was true. “You talk like you have a crush on Magnus.”
“I have a friend-crush on Magnus,” Izzy said, swinging her legs. “Well. Did. We’re actually friends now.”
“It would be easier if I didn’t… like him,” Alec admitted. Easier, but it would leave a desolate emptiness in him. Magnus already occupied so much of his heart, what would even be there if he didn’t?
“Maybe, but here’s the thing: Magnus actually sees you. How many people do you think see him? But he sees you.”
Actually, Alec didn’t think many people did see Magnus. People looked at Magnus. But they didn’t see him. “I don’t know,” he said. “Maybe.”
“Definitely. But I won’t force you. You guys can do your weird dancing around thing for as long as you want, you seem to enjoy it well enough anyway.”
“I always enjoy being with Magnus,” Alec admitted.
Izzy looked triumphant, but didn’t gloat any further.
“No more interrogating about my life,” Alec ordered. “Have you talked to Clary?”
Izzy’s expression shuttered. “I don’t want to talk about Clary.”
“Iz—”
She hopped down from the desk. “No, we— it’s nothing. We’re nothing.”
“Izzy—”
But she’d already fled his office.
Alec put his head in his hands. Great. Now two people he loved weren’t talking to him.
Alec knocked on Magnus’s door with trepidation. Magnus had told him a million times he didn’t need to knock, but Alec knocked anyway. Especially tonight.
He wondered if he should have brought something. Wine? He didn’t know anything about wine. Flowers? No, that was too romantic. He twisted his hands together, wishing he had something to hold and quell his nerves with.
When Magnus opened the door, all that faded away, replaced by a surge of fondness that nearly sent Alec staggering. Magnus smiled at him, and Alec smiled back helplessly. “Alexander. You know you don’t need to knock.”
“I know.”
He followed Magnus into his apartment, closing the door behind him. Weight fell from his shoulders as he stepped into the loft, as it usually did. Magnus’s home smelled like incense and cinnamon-y potions ingredients Alec couldn’t quite identify, and the warmth of tea and hearth and Magnus himself. Alec drew it into himself as fortification.
He sat down on the couch beside Magnus, a few feet between them. Magnus conjured a cup of tea directly into Alec’s hands, and Alec didn’t jump, and then wondered at how he didn’t. He was comfortable around Magnus to the point that his magic felt like a second skin, and his loft felt more like home than the Institute, and Magnus’s touch comforted him, unlike any other person’s Alec had met. That was all part of the problem.
“Did you find out anything about the children?” he asked before Magnus could launch into the issue of the kiss.
Magnus shook his head, sipping at his own tea. “Not yet. I fear they’re in the wind, taken away by co-conspirators or merely returned to their families, memories spelled. We may never identify or find them.”
Alec ducked his head. “I’m sorry.”
Magnus just nodded, and they sat in silence for a moment.
“Magnus, I—” Words suddenly burst from Alec’s chest, at the same time Magnus said, “Alexander, it’s not that—”
They both stopped, tripping over each other. Magnus waved a hand, stilted and awkward, especially for him. “Go ahead.”
God, they’d already lost their ease of being around each other. Alec hated it. “I’m sorry,” he started. “I— I know that was impulsive.”
He didn’t have to explain what he was talking about. Magnus looked down at his hands, fiddling with the string of his tea bag. “Adrenaline,” he said quietly. Alec couldn’t name the emotion in his voice.
“Yeah,” he said. “Adrenaline. I hope I didn’t—” he grit his teeth, forced the words out— “overstep, or something.”
“No, of course not. I—” Magnus seemed at a loss for words. He scrubbed a hand through his hair, making it stick up in uneven spikes. “I was an active participant,” he finally settled on.
The way he phrased it, like it didn’t matter much at all… Alec had to swallow hard. “I just don’t want to make you uncomfortable.”
“You haven’t—”
“Because you’ve been all, like, far away from me.”
“Processing,” Magnus said, voice thin.
Processing, Alec thought.
They sat in silence for a second.
“It doesn’t have to change anything,” Magnus said in a tone like the words were scraping his throat on the way up. “Our relationship is stronger than that, I hope.”
“Yeah,” Alec said. His lungs burned. “It is.”
Magnus kept staring down at his hands for a long moment, jaw working. Then he clapped them on his knees and stood. “Well. I think I’m getting a real drink now. You?”
“Sure,” Alec said. Angel knew he needed it.
They were both silent as Magnus mixed the drinks. Alec watched his strong shoulders move under his shirt, the shift of his hips, and wanted, then felt guilty for wanting.
Magnus brought his drink over, and their hands brushed as he passed it to Alec. Magnus pulled his hand away almost as soon as he’d handed it over, and Alec tried not to feel hurt. He took a sip, and the drink burned almost as much as the lump in the back of his throat.
“How is Izzy?” Magnus asked, and Alec was grateful for the change of topic. The air between them felt clearer as soon as they changed to it. “I heard there was some difficulty between her and Clary.”
Alec sighed. “She won’t talk to me about it. I don’t know if they fought or if it’s something else.”
“Are they actually together?”
“I don’t even know. Apparently it’s complicated.”
“I see.” Magnus nursed his drink. “I can try to talk to her, if you think it would help.”
“Maybe. She might listen to you.” Alec could only hope. Izzy was clearly hurting in some way or another over Clary, and he didn’t want to see her hurt anymore.
“They’ll work it out,” Magnus said, with more confidence than Alec himself had.
“I hope so.”
They were silent for another long moment.
Magnus took a deep, sudden breath. “Alexander, I hope you don’t think—” he cut off just as suddenly, biting his lip. “Never mind. Do you want to watch a silly movie or something? I could surely use the distraction from today’s darkness.”
“Sure. Okay.”
Magnus put something on that Alec already knew he wouldn’t remember five minutes after it ended. He was far too focused on Magnus, who was decidedly staring at the screen instead of him, jaw tight.
Alec wondered if things would ever go back to normal, but his chest loosened when, about halfway through the film, Magnus finally shifted towards him a bit, his posture relaxing. By the time they’d reached the climax—and what was going on at that point, Alec had no idea, it might have had something to do with a cat and a unicycle?—Magnus was sat right next to him, their thighs lightly brushing as they usually did when they spent time together. Maybe the weirdness wouldn’t last forever.
“Well, that was horrible,” Magnus declared as the credits rolled.
“Atrocious,” Alec agreed, though he’d paid attention to none of it. He trusted Magnus’s judgment on these things. “Why didn’t you just turn it off?”
“I don’t like leaving things incomplete.” His gaze slanted towards Alec, then away again. “Well, darling, I’m afraid I’m beat, I’m going to turn in. Are you staying the night? You know my guest room’s always made up for you.”
If Alec did, he’d probably do something even more insane like waking Magnus up in the middle of the night and begging him to kiss him again. “No, I have to head back.” The walk would do him good, anyway.
Magnus seemed a tad disappointed. “Well, if you’re sure. I’ll see you again soon?”
Alec nodded, and as Magnus showed him out, as he walked home, his head kept ringing with how this was wrong, wrong, so wrong.