Chapter Text
It wasn’t the first time Alex had a crush on someone.
But somehow, this felt different.
Maybe it was because, usually, he didn’t live on the same floor as the person he liked.
Alex saw Magnus every single day—spent time with him every single day—and it was wonderful, and… a little weird, all at once.
He had a feeling Magnus might feel something similar. What else could explain the constant blushing, the stammering, the way he kept staring at him.
It was one of the sweetest things, something that quietly brightened Alex’s days.
And still, he didn’t make a move.
For one, Alex wasn’t even sure Magnus understood his own feelings. Maybe he didn’t, and bringing it up would only make things awkward between them.
Or maybe he did know—and just didn’t want to date someone who was genderfluid. Maybe he was ashamed of not being straight.
Alex was almost certain Magnus wasn’t like that. But you could never really know. How many people had there been—people Alex had known, had liked—who turned out not only to be hiding their own sexuality, but to be disgusted with themselves for it?
If there was even the slightest chance Magnus would reject him because of that… well, it would leave a mark on whatever they had.
But the main reason Alex didn’t say anything was simpler: himself.
He wasn’t sure he was ready to be anything more than Magnus’s friend.
This—whatever this was—worked. They liked each other, they got along, no pressure, no expectations. No romance. Just something quietly, comfortably platonic.
After all, Alex’s whole life had been about change. How could he possibly be steady enough for a real, committed relationship?
No. It was better this way. Friends.
So then why did he keep wishing it would change?
Then the mission came.
Alex figured they had about a twenty-five percent chance of saving the world from Loki.
And maybe a five percent chance of all of them surviving it.
Sure, she had a great team. A really good one, if she was being honest.
She would’ve trusted her sister, Sam, with her life.
Halfborn, Mallory, TJ—the chaotic but stubborn crew from the nineteenth floor—they gave Alex hope, too.
Then there was Blitzen, who could make just about anything and had impeccable fashion taste (maybe not the most useful trait on a battlefield, but for Alex, it absolutely counted).
Hearth, master of rune magic, who had even managed to stand up to his own abusive father.
And then… Magnus.
Alex barely admitted it, even to herself, but she trusted him more than anyone else in the world. In just a few months, she’d come to know him well—knew what he was capable of when it came to the people he loved.
But even with all these incredible people, the enemy was stronger. Bigger. More powerful.
There were hard things to face. Like her own memories.
When Alex worked on the massive ceramic warrior—Pottery Barn—the only thing she could think about was what it would be like if her grandfather were still alive. Her wonderful abuelo.
Would he be proud of her work? Would he still have advice, ways to make it better? Alex would give anything to talk to him again. To tell him everything that had happened. Or just to let him see that his grandchild was happy—or as happy as someone marching toward what was very likely their death could be.
Still, Alex enjoyed creating the warrior. And she enjoyed, even more, how much attention Magnus paid to her while she worked.
At one point, she caught him staring at her lips—but Alex didn’t say anything. It amused her, this obvious pull he had toward her.
And then Magnus told her that the more he find out about her, the more he admired her—and Alex’s heart immediately sped up.
She wanted to tell him how ridiculous that was, that someone as kind and incredible as him could admire someone like her—but instead, she brushed it off with some cheeky remark.
Even though it meant more to her than she let on.
Then Magnus left for a while with Hearth and Blitz, heading to Alfheim.
Alex was… nervous.
She wouldn’t have admitted it to anyone, but she was afraid he wouldn’t come back. That maybe he’d die, and Alex would never get to tell him how she felt.
And when he finally returned, she could barely hold herself back—she rushed straight to him.
Of course, she lied and said she’d just been worried about her glasses, added something about how her outfit wasn’t complete without them.
She just hoped Magnus knew what complete bullshit that was.
The mission itself was made up of a series of small, exhausting, and potentially deadly tasks. And that didn’t even include the draining training sessions with Sam, or the nightmares that haunted Alex at night. It wasn’t easy.
There was a point where Alex almost gave up entirely.
They were in Niflheim—the freezing wind stung her eyes, her legs could barely move without sinking into the cold, wet snow, and she was pretty sure she’d already earned herself a fair share of frostbite.
But Niflheim didn’t just wear down the body—it got into your head, too. It whispered that this was the end. That this was where they would fail. Freeze. Be forgotten. Defeated. And even if they somehow survived—what then? What were they even doing? This was just a last-resort backup plan. They were literally fighting against fate itself.
There was no hope.
And yet, somehow, she found the push she needed to keep going.
She felt this pull—this need—to go to Magnus, to be as close to him as possible. And okay, maybe only about eighty percent of that was because of the cold. Magnus, as a son of Frey, practically radiated warmth, like summer itself—but being near him filled Alex with a kind of happiness that had nothing to do with temperature.
For a while, they just talked. Brought up good memories. Held onto hope for each other.
But even that wasn’t quite enough. She needed something more.
So Alex kissed him.
It was the best kiss of her life—and that was saying something.
It gave her strength. Enough not only to make it all the way to Skadi’s hall, but to believe again. From that point on, Alex was sure of it: no matter how things turned out, they’d find a way.
And then, of course, Magnus went and did the most embarrassing thing imaginable.
Honestly, Alex hadn’t expected that barely a day after their kiss, Magnus would announce—very enthusiastically—how much he’d enjoyed it. In front of her best friends, a group of enemies, and her own mother.
As mortifying as it was… it was flattering, too.
Still, Alex would’ve appreciated having that conversation in private. It might have spared her Samirah and Mallory’s relentless teasing.
Then Alex kissed Magnus again.
This time, he was he/him. He wanted to be sure—absolutely sure—that Magnus would still feel the same if he kissed him as a boy.
And the look Magnus gave him afterward—soft, awed, full of something unmistakably tender—was more than enough of an answer.
Of course, she asks for time.
She’s still not entirely sure a relationship is something she’s ready for.
But for now, she knows this much: there’s someone she genuinely cares about—and that feeling is returned. And for the moment, that’s enough.
When their fingers lace together during the fireworks, as Chase Space opens, Alex glances around at everything they’ve managed to do—everything they’ve survived, everything they’ve made work.
“This is good,” she says, because there aren’t really words for the rush of feeling that suddenly washes over her.
“Yeah,” Magnus replies, his hand tightening just a little around Alex’s, “it is.”
Alex can’t hold back a smile. She is really glad she has a friend like Magnus Chase in her life.
And even more glad that the word “friend” might not be the right one for much longer.
In this moment, she feels incredibly lucky.
She has a family. Her friends. Valhalla. And Magnus Chase.
And an entire eternity to make the most of it.