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The music crashes around them like waves on a shore, an insulating wall of sound that grants the illusion of privacy even in the middle of the crowded club, anonymous bodies pressed up on every side. Magnus doesn’t really care that much about privacy one way or the other, but his Alexander has a reserved streak when it comes to public displays of affection, the occasional training-room makeout session notwithstanding.
Not that it’s in evidence right now. Alec’s hand curls around the back of his head, cradling him gently in place, his mouth hot and sparking sweet with the taste of the last cocktail he finished, and when Magnus gives up on propriety entirely and slings a leg over his hips, straddling him and pressing him back against the padded bench, he laughs breathlessly without really even breaking the kiss. His hands drop to Magnus’s thighs, grip flexing tight enough to hold him in place and put a hot spark of arousal through the pit of his stomach. He pulls back just enough to press his mouth to Alec’s ear, the only way he can possibly be heard right now.
“You’re just full of surprises, aren’t you, Alexander?”
Alec quakes against him, laughing, and slides his hands up to Magnus’s hips, pulling him flush against his body. “That’s not a problem, I hope.”
“Not at all.” Magnus drops a kiss below his ear, where the skin is thin and hot, tastes salt on his lips and feels Alec shiver beneath him. “But if you’re going to keep this up we may need to find a more discreet venue. Or risk getting thrown out.”
Alec is still laughing, warm and happy, beautiful in the dim light.
“In a little while,” he says, and pulls Magnus down into another kiss.