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Underhill drums his fingers across his desk and lets his head roll back for a moment, hoping it’ll wake up his brain for the last 30 minutes of his shift. He’s been sitting in the same spot for the last 7 hours, and while he loves being head of security at the Institute, he can’t deny that on slow days like this, it’s the most boring job in the world.
It’s times like these when he goes on the lookout for people doing embarrassing things. He once settled his eyes on a camera’s footage in just enough time to watch Raj trip and knock down an entire rack of weapons. It was the highlight of his week.
He leans forward once more and rests an elbow on the desk, laying his cheek in his palm as his eyes skim over the various feeds. Nothing catches his eye at first, just the standard sight of Shadowhunters with their gazes glued to tablets, sliding blades into holsters, gathering in groups to gossip like teenagers. He’s ready to give up, when suddenly he notices movement in the training room and does a double take.
It’s Alec Lightwood’s day off, yet there he stands, brandishing two staffs. He throws one to the other man in the room, and Underhill quickly realizes that it’s none other than Magnus Bane. He’s heard the whispers around the Institute, seen the quiet conversations between Alec and Isabelle. Magnus lost his magic, and just the other day almost lost his life because of it.
Still, he doesn’t look extremely torn up about it at the moment. He jabs the staff at Alec teasingly. Alec hits it with his own immediately, a serious look on his face. Underhill can’t hear what they’re saying, but he’s assuming there’s a purpose behind this, rather than a spontaneous decision to let off some steam.
Just as they get into position, Underhill’s phone rings, signalling that someone is facetiming him. He reaches for his phone blindly, unwilling to tear his eyes away from the screen as they really start getting into it. Magnus has clearly trained before, and while Alec doesn’t seem to be having any problem blocking his blows, it’s clear that they’re powerful. Underhill answers the call, sparing a glance down at the screen to see his boyfriend’s face staring back at him.
“Hey, I-”
“Shhh,” he whispers, poking at the screen until the camera is flipped away from him, “look at this.”
They both hum as Alec throws the staffs to the side in favor of going hand to hand, and Underhill’s boyfriend lets out a laugh.
“That’s relatable.”
“Why?”
“It’s what I’d do if it were me and you.”
Underhill turns the camera toward him just so he can offer his boyfriend a smirk, then focuses back in on the fight. Magnus lands an elbow to Alec’s gut, and he lets out an impressed whistle, watching amusedly as Magnus does a little dance as he moves away. He motions for Alec to continue, and Underhill bites the inside of his cheek to hold back his laughter. He’s never met Magnus personally, but based on everything he’s seen and heard, it’s no wonder he had Alec wrapped around his finger in such a short amount of time.
“He’s so graceful.”
“He is.”
In just a few seconds Magnus knocks Alec to the ground and gets an arm around his neck, the bulge of his muscles clear even through the shitty camera quality. Alec’s fingers slide down his skin as he attempts to break free, but to no avail. Everything about the way they move together screams tension, and it strikes something in Underhill’s chest. Technically– or at least to their knowledge– they don’t have an audience, and yet he can’t deny the bravery that goes into every step they take in the Institute, a place that oppresses and chills the bones of everyone inside of it. Their presence makes it warmer, easier to bear, and with every moment like this, Underhill feels more free.
By the time he focuses back in on the screen, Alec has his hands pressed to Magnus’ chest as he walks him backwards into a pillar and catches his lips in a kiss. It’s bold, desperate, aching. A raging fire that can only grow hotter. Underhill is just about to avert his eyes out of respect when Alec pulls back, holding a hand up. He says something to Magnus and immediately turns, quickly walking toward the exit, and after a somewhat sheepish look behind him, Magnus follows, casually at first, then at a run.
“Well, I guess we know where they’re going.”
Underhill smiles and flips the camera again so it shows his face, his eyebrows raising as he hears two sets of giggles pass by the security room door.
“My shift is over in 20 minutes,” he says, feigning innocence as he inspects his nails. “Maybe I’ll sneak a couple staffs out on my way out the door.”
“As if I’m any match against a Shadowhunter,” his boyfriend scoffs, rolling his eyes fondly.
“I think we both know that’s not the point.”
“Hand to hand, huh?”
Their eyes meet through the screen, their lips tilting up in knowing grins.
Maybe it’s not a slow day after all.