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“Just admit it, Alexander.”
“Never.”
“Admit it.” Magnus smiled. Alec sighed.
The thing about having a hidden competitive streak was that sometimes it reared its head around those you loved, or around those who also had a hidden competitive streak, and things got… messy.
Unfortunately, Magnus was both; the man he loved, and the man with the streak equalling his.
Since the war with Valentine ended for good, Magnus and Alec had found themselves with more work than ever before; rebuilding burned bridges on top of normal day-to-day problems really was a full-time job, and their time together had been mostly limited to nights in the loft, dinner if they were lucky. Thankfully, Alec had officially moved in, and Maryse had moved back to New York with Max, so she could, at her insistence, cover the position of Head overnight and Alec could “have some quality time” with his boyfriend.
It also meant that Maryse and Izzy could tag team Alec, and get him to tap out for a full day off once in a while.
Alec thought that nothing could beat nights in, eating homecooked food, dancing together on the balcony, and generally being wrapped up in each other’s company. And while it didn’t beat it, necessarily, holding Magnus’s hand on a chilly late-autumn early-evening as they explored a nearby fair was a level all on its own.
The cold air surrounded them, Alec aware of his nose and cheeks turning pink, as he watched the tips of Magnus’s ears do the same. They wandered booth to booth, looking at local crafts like the mundanes were doing, and Alec had never felt so happy to be among them, the people he devoted his life to protecting. Wrapped up, he didn’t even need to glamour his runes, and Magnus guided them, happily chatting to stall owners he’d known throughout the years. Holding hands, they looked like any normal couple, and Alec was delighted to notice that no one spared two men being affectionate a second glance; not that it would have stopped him, anymore. He was proud to hold Magnus’s hand, and his heart.
Magnus’s sharp intake of breath made Alec look up from the handmade snake-adorned ring he’d been contemplating.
“Alexander, what do you say to a little… friendly competition?”
Alec snorted. “I’d say I’d thought we were well past friendly, Magnus. Competition?”
Magnus pointed to a row of stalls they hadn’t explored yet. Lights shone from every one, electronic sounds mixing in the atmosphere. Alec smirked, looking at Magnus’s barely restrained glee out of the corner of his eye.
“You’re on, honey.”
The restraints broke, and Alec swore he’d collect the light of a thousand suns just to keep that look on Magnus’s face.
“Rule 1: no magic.”
“That’s fair,” Magnus grinned. “Rule 2: no runes.”
“Just straight-“ Alec made some kind of gesture with his hand, searching for the words “-play, no tricks, or cheating.”
“Alexander, please never say the words ‘straight play’ to me ever again.”
Alec snorted, unable to contain the smile on his face and he looked up towards the sky. “Gay play then? Fair play. Whatever. What’re the stakes?”
“If I win, you can’t wear a shirt in the house for a week,” Magnus said.
Alec cocked an eyebrow. “You thought of that quick,” he said. Magnus smirked.
“It’s something I’ve been after for… since I met you. If you win?”
Alec grinned. “If I win, I’m gonna cook a huge meal for us, and I want to see you wash the dishes. By hand.”
Magnus gasped, placing his free hand over his chest. “You’re a cruel man, Alexander. Menial labour? Tsk. All I wanted was some light ogling.” They both broke into gentle laughter, sparkling eyes not betraying the raging fire of competitiveness sparked within them.
It was a close fight, spanning two and a half hours and twelve different games, but as much as Alec didn’t want to say out loud, Magnus was the clear winner. How he’d won at a strength test, Alec would never understand, given that Shadowhunters literally had superhuman strength, but it’d been kinda worth it to see Magnus’s biceps ripple under his Henley.
Alec was grateful the loft was always warm. And that he really, truly didn’t mind – he knew how attracted Magnus was to his chest in particular, and he loved how wanted he felt every time Magnus paid any attention to it. They strolled away from the fair, a giant teddy under one of Magnus’s arms and the other wrapped around Alec’s waist. Alec’s arm rested in an L-shape on Magnus’s back, fingers idly toying with the hair at the nape of his neck.
“Just admit it, Alexander.”
“Never.”
“Admit it.” Magnus smiled. Alec sighed.
“You, Magnus Bane, are the best at carnival games,” he deadpanned. Fighting back a smile at Magnus’s expectant look, he sighed again. “And you’re super handsome and smart and your taste in interior ornamentation is eclectic, not chaotic. Happy?”
Magnus smiled, proudly. “That wasn’t so hard was it, Alexander?”
Alec smiled back, feeling giddy with happiness and childlike joy. “Very mature. Asshole.”
“Yeah, you love it.”
He definitely did.