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Magnus looks up from the paper he’s been writing and glances at the clock, 10 am. Alec was out late last night but he’s usually up by now. Regardless, the hunt could have been more demanding than usual, it’s not an entirely worrying fact. He puts his pen down and stares at his desk for a bit. It wouldn’t hurt to check.
Pushing his chair back quietly, he stands up and stretches. Not old enough for back problems yet, there's something to be thankful for. On his way past the couch, he catches sight of their shared sweatshirt. He’s guilty of stealing Alec’s clothes from time to time but they definitely have shared ownership of this item in particular. It was Alec’s until he stole it, then Alec stole it back claiming it was his favourite, then Magnus stole it once again because it was awfully comfy and- he smiles. Well, it’s both of their favourites now and the shared ownership is a must in order to coexist. He grabs it.
He pauses in the doorway of their bedroom. Alec still hasn’t moved in technically, but it would be wrong to claim the room belongs only to him at this point. The ‘their’ is contagious though, he thinks, as he looks down at the sweatshirt. It’s only a matter of time.
There’s a lump in his bed, motionless. He moves closer quietly, footsteps just audible enough to alert Alec of his presence. The face is absent-looking but Magnus knows him well enough to read the pain through that by now. The bedsheets are messy, cocooned around the figure of the man he loves.
“Bad day?” Magnus murmurs, carefully sitting down on the bed next to his boyfriend.
A pause. “Yeah.”
“Want to talk about it?” Magnus knows he’ll say no but it’s routine. Routine is comforting when you’re lost and most importantly, routine always has the potential to change.
“No-I, well what is there to talk about? It’s not like anything happened to me. If anything, you should be the one feeling like this, you’ve been through enough lately.”
“I’m old enough to know that’s not how life works,” Magnus runs his hands through Alec’s hair, “and young enough to not have figured out how it really does.”
“It’s…”
“Something you can’t control. Will you eat breakfast?”
“I’m not hungry.”
“You are. Toast? One piece?”
“Magnus, I-”
“Alec, if you’re truly not hungry, I’ll leave you be. But I think you’ll change your mind once you eat something and toast always goes down well with you. Just butter?” Insistence needs limits sometimes, he thinks, but he has a feeling he’s right. Past experiences with his boyfriend in this state have taught Magnus that he often is hungry but unaware of it until he actually eats something.
“Butter.”
He was. “I’ll do that now but first,” Magnus passes the sweatshirt over, “I’ve kindly decided to lend our sweatshirt to you. Lend, Alec, don’t get any ideas that I’m giving up on my share of ownership.” He can see Alec’s lips twitch up slightly in the hint of a smile. It’s a start, Magnus thinks.
Magnus stands up to leave when Alec catches his wrist and he looks back down.
“Thank you.”
“It’s never a hardship to lend an extra hand for someone I love when they need it, Alexander. Don’t worry about anything else, I’ll talk to Isabelle and of course, verbally destroy anyone who tries to disagree with what I say.” Another spark of life in his eyes at that comment, good. Perhaps the bad day won't last long enough to be called that.
He sees Alec pulling the sweatshirt close as he leaves the room, a comfort item that he won’t deny him but certainly will not hesitate to steal back at a more appropriate time. It reminds him of Alec when he wears it and he’d like to think he’s stolen it enough that it reminds Alec of him by now, a reminder of his presence. He smiles and heads to the kitchen, the buttery toast he's about to make will surpass any buttered toast to ever exist, Alec will only receive the best.