Work Text:
The camera focuses, first in a blurry shot that swivels around the room for a moment, swiping across the still-undistinguishable face of an office employee, then back onto him. It eventually clarifies so that an audience could see the half-bored, half-perplexed expression of an almost-thirty year-old man wearing a knock-off but tasteful cardigan (Ralph Loren, the tag would read, rather than the obvious name-brand), his dark hair styled in a deliberate wave that is gently held in place by a handful of pomade. He's a very handsome man, young but unexplainably wise-looking, despite the fact that he’s working in an office that sells paper products. As it is, he seems like the type of person who should be working in a fashion magazine company, and yet—
From behind the camera lens, Simon clears his throat. “Okay…tell me about yourself, why you work here.”
“I’m on my lunch—” the man complains.
“Just—come on, man, I need the credit for my film class, please—” Simon sputters back, his tone obviously pleading.
Had the other man been vindictive, he might have gotten up and abandoned the interview, but he’s already mic-ed up, and if he’s being honest, he had only packed a container of Greek yogurt for his break, and the chunks of pineapple suspended in yogurt no longer seemed as appealing as it had at six-thirty in the morning, when he was still deprived of enough caffeine that he thought he’d want a healthy lunch like that later in the day.
With a long-suffering sigh, the man examines himself in the darkened screen of his phone for a moment longer before sitting up. He looks practically regal despite the washed-out eggshell-white background behind him, and he slaps a tired smile onto his face.
“You’re lucky I value the American education system,” he mutters under his breath. “Fine. I’m Magnus Bane, and I’ve been working at Lightwood-Morgenstern Paper Company for…four years now? God, that feels so long—can you edit that part out, not make me look so depressed?”
The camera bobs along with Simon’s nod. “Oh, yeah, sure,” he lies.
“Great. I’ve been here for four years, and I…sell paper. Every day I wake up, and I come here, and I sell paper. I went to school and studied fashion, racked up a lot of debt, and I didn’t want to get evicted from my apartment, so I applied here. I’ve been here ever since. And I sell paper.” He looks particularly haunted as he recalls the story, like he’s considering all his bad life decisions as he rattles off this information.
It’s understandable, especially at a cursory glance of the office space—during Simon’s first shot of the office, he captures images of some of the employees on the floor. There’s a blond man sitting at the desk across from Magnus’, balancing a freshly sharpened pencil on his finger before tossing it up into the air, catching it, then wincing as the graphite stabs into his skin. At the receptionist’s desk, a young man, tall with dark hair and a seemingly perpetually annoyed demeanor, is trying to explain how to transfer calls to the younger woman beside him. Her shock of red hair is piled into a messy bun at the top of her head, and she nods eagerly as he works through the directions, only rolling her eyes when he smacks her hand away from the candy jar next to them. Maia, Simon’s ex-girlfriend and his bye into this filming opportunity, is actually working, smiling falsely as she sweet-talks one of her clients into renewing their paper order for the next year. She works a finger through one of her many, bouncing curls, loosening the strand of hair before releasing it to fall back into place.
Robert Lightwood—the current and only boss of the company, since the public removal of Valentine Morgenstern, who had apparently been funneling money from paper sales into his own private savings account—is tucked away into his private office, though the glass windows allow Simon to zoom into the space to see that he’s not actually doing anything, just resting his eyes before his phone rings. The older man jolts and picks up the phone quickly before noticing Simon’s intrusive camerawork. With an annoyed wave of his hand, he practically compels the young man to pan away from the office.
“So, aside from selling paper, what do you do here?” Simon asks as a prompt.
Magnus hums thoughtfully, leans forward with his hands clasped around his knee. “One time I did my nails. Mr. Lightwood didn’t mind except for the smell.” He chuckles, the sound barely audible, as he recalls the event. “It made Jace somad, though, that was worth it. And then Maia and I talk about how many bars we’re going to hit after work. We never hit them, but we like the idea of drinking away our problems.”
“Do you have a best friend here? Mine’s Maia—or Clary. I mean, Clary’s always my best friend, so—”
“Is this your interview or mine?” Magnus asks, his eyes twinkling from the harmless tease. “Um, but I do, I suppose. Maia, of course, but—well, Alec’s fun to talk to.”
“You think Alec’s fun to talk to?” Simon asks, and he doesn’t mean to sound so incredulous, but he does.
From his experience, Alec is about the least naturally friendly person in the office. He’s not mean, by any means (except that he doesn’t care to remember Simon’s name), but he’s not particularly engaging, and Magnus, even in a soul-crushing job such as this, is always guaranteed to be the life of the room. The two seem like an unlikely pair, then, though Simon doesn’t judge.
Nodding, and biting back a smile that is suspiciously reminiscent of fondness, Magnus says, “I do. He’s the boss’s son, I’m pretty sure I’m supposed to say something like that.”
“Oh, right—”
Alec’s smile is uncharacteristically soft as he listens to what Simon has relayed to him. “Magnus said that?” He mulls over the thought for a few seconds, then shrugs. Well, he works for my dad, he has to be nice—”
Simon nearly laughs at the similarity between the two phrases. “He said something like that, too.”
Without saying anything, the younger man zooms in closer to Alec’s face. When he’s not scowling, and—Simon notes—when he’s talking about Magnus, his face is handsome. “Of course he did.” Alec runs a hand through his hair, loosening some of the strands from its previous style.
“Okay, well, talk to me about your job.”
“I hate it,” Alec says honestly. He rolls his eyes just at the thought of going back to his receptionist’s desk, of the ringing phones and the sticky notes to give to his father at a later time. The young man’s fingers play against the sleeve of his sweater, and, realizing that Simon wasn’t going to say anything else, continued, “It’s fine. I’m glad I have a job.”
“I love working with my son,” Robert says, though he’s not entirely convincing. He’s adjusting the supplies on his desk, the stapler and the tape dispenser and the paperclips, and puts them back into their original spots. “Do I wish that he had applied to law school this year instead of working this dead-end job? Maybe—but I respect the gap year. I took one myself when I was his age, and honestly, I’m just glad that he’s decided to move on from the history degree.”
Shrugging, the man stands, pacing over to the window. The sun bleeds through the slotted blinds and reflect back onto his face in dark lines. From this angle, if shot in a black-and-white filter, Simon believes that this might work as a shot for a more melodramatic film, when the reasonably attractive and middle-aged man realizes that his life’s work is meaningless and stares out against the horizon, thinking and wishing of things beyond his reach.
At least he’s rich, though. He’s got that going for him.
“He’s good at his job, he’ll get a little bit of work experience and then throw himself back into school next year. He’s learning about the business a little more, and—look at the nice notes he leaves—” Robert holds up a pale yellow sticky note, written on with Sharpie marker. It’s a reminder for a phone conference meeting, with a half-assed attempt at a smiley face scribbled at the bottom. Simon lets the camera rest on a close-up shot of the drawing for an uncomfortably long amount of time.
“Sometimes we like to…give Jace a hard time,” Magnus tells Simon. “He’s just so easy to mess with, I can’t resist it.”
It’s fortunate, really, that Simon’s been privy to such a moment. The blond is sitting at his desk, typing up a few notes on his computer from one of his calls, and Magnus, seated at his own desk, is looking over at Alec, who smirks and nods, reaching for the phone next to him. Clary’s gone to make copies, which means that the young man has the space to himself again.
With an easiness about his movement, Magnus gets up and strides over to Alec’s desk, resting his arms against the counter. He picks a few Skittles from the candy dish, and Alec noticeably doesn’t stop him. “So, you watching Hell’s Kitchen tonight?” Magnus asks as he pops a candy into his mouth, letting it click against his teeth as he pushes it around his mouth with his tongue.
With a small smile, Alec replies, “I don’t know, I was thinking of watching Blue Bloods.”
They’re referring to shows that air on Fridays, and as the rest of the office, excepting Jace, knows, it’s Thursday. It isn’t like they actually think they can trick Jace into believing that his weekend is starting a day earlier than it is, but if they could, they wouldn’t be entirely disappointed.
“You watch that?” Magnus wrinkles his nose in distaste.
“I’m a sucker for Tom Selleck, so sue me,” Alec shoots back. He rests his elbows against his desk, and when Clary walks back into the room with a stack of warm papers, fresh from the printer, he lifts his eyebrows as Magnus floats back to his workspace in a near-balletic move. Alec doesn’t say anything else, but he’s nice enough to Clary when she pulls up a chair next to him, already chattering about her hellish experience with the printer. It has been known to fritz out and spit papers back at people. Many a good employee has been felled by stray papercuts, so Simon’s been told. Even Alec can’t fault her for this particular mix-up.
“I watch Hell’s Kitchen, too,” Jace says suddenly, like he’s been invited to partake in the conversation, though he really hasn’t. “I forgot it was on tonight.”
“Ah, well, it is. Good thing you have us.”
The next morning, when Simon comes into the office to film another day, he immediately notices that Jace’s desk is empty, and Alec and Magnus are watching each other, both desperately trying not to be the first one to laugh.
Finally, by ten o’clock, Jace hurries through the door, looking disheveled and out-of-breath. He shoots a glare, first at Alec, then at Magnus, and plops into his chair with a loud, angry huff.
“Hell’s Kitchen wasn’t even on.”
“Magnus is…he’s funny,” Alec tells Simon, who’s decided to try to spin his documentary into something a little more—sensational. Continuing, the young man says, “And he had already been working here three years by the time Dad hired me. I mean, who could work here for four years without losing their mind?” With a pause, Alec shrugs. “Maybe he is insane.”
Cutting in, Simon says, “Maia says that everyone calls you ‘work husbands.’ What do you—I mean, how do you feel about that?”
“I thought you were supposed to be asking questions about my father’s company,” Alec raises an eyebrow, but he shrugs like the question doesn’t surprise him. “…but if you wanted to know how Magnus stacks up to the rest of the salespeople here, then I could tell you that I have no clue. I’m pretty sure I don’t even know how this job works. He’s…okay at it, I think, but I guess he spends a lot of time walking around instead of making phone calls.”
That is, Magnus spends plenty of time talking to Alec, walking to Alec’s desk, making jokes at Jace’s expense to Alec—when he has free time, he goes to see Alec.
Total work husbands.
“What else do you know about Magnus?” Simon prods.
There’s a small smile that works its way onto Alec’s face, and because he and the other employees have been instructed by Simon to ignore him as the cameraman, he’s grown comfortable enough to lean forward a bit, his voice quiet. “Okay, so when he was in college, he was in this close-up magic troupe. He can—he can make things basically disappear out of thin air, it’s top-ten one of the most amazing things you’ll see here. Ask him about that.”
For the sake of his interview, Simon stifles his laugh, but he appreciates the candor. When Alec isn’t giving an actual effort to be negative, he’s practically pleasant, especially when he’s thinking and talking about Magnus, who seems to bring out the best in the other man. The more Simon records some of these employees, the more he learns about their habits—for Alec, nervousness is expressed in the flicks of his hands, of grabbing and pulling on fabric and gently scraping his nail against the pad of his finger. And when he talks about Magnus, when he offers little tidbits of private information about his coworker, he fidgets even more.
“Close-up magic, huh? Must be torture for Jace.”
“It is. One day, he kept taking things off his desk and then making them disappear. It was really—” As if catching himself in the moment, he clears his throat and breaks off, shaking his head in a quick moment. Perhaps fortunately for Alec, the office’s phone rings, and he springs up. “I have to go grab that—”
He doesn’t even take the time to rip off the mic set before he speeds to the desk, nearly tripping over his own feet just as Clary picks up the phone. She’s actually caught onto the receptionist job more quickly than one might have guessed at first introduction to the redhead, but she’s doing little else to alleviate Alec’s current stress. He lets out a long sigh as he begins to work on disentangling himself from the mic cords, and Magnus offers a sympathetic smile, though he’s not inclined to end his own business call to assist.
“He told you about the magic thing? That Lightwood…” Magnus rubs his thumb against his lip, his own tic, and then chuckles. “Fine, if he’s going to say that, then I’m going to tell you what hedoes on the job.” Magnus opens his mouth to say something, but he catches himself in a laugh, an inside joke between himself and Alec, and Simon suddenly feels strange for pointing a camera at the man.
He doesn’t pull the shot away, though. Instead, Simon tightens the frame, closes in to highlight Magnus’ easy smile. Finally gaining control of himself, Magnus says, “So sometimes, he pretends that he has a call on the other line so he can hang up on someone who’s annoying him, or he’ll act like the call dropped. He’s…” Magnus is all but beaming at this point, “…he’s sobad at his job. If Robert weren’t his father—well, Robert’s not…he’s not great at his job, either. And he’s terrible at firing people. Oh, and Alec juggles remarkably well, did you know that?”
With a fond shake of his head, the man adjusts the sleeves of his cardigan and looks back up at the camera.
“Does that answer your question?”
Clary turns quickly in her chair, pleased because she’s finally been upgraded to have a swiveling office chair like Alec’s. The young woman’s hair falls in loose curls today, framing her pink cheeks and occasionally getting caught on the back of her newly minted chair, a pulling action which results in an occasional pained. She makes a full rotation before she digs her heels into the drab carpet and slows to a halt.
“I don’t think Alec would like it if I talked about him while he’s trying to fix the copy machine—” she begins but flinches when they hear a loud curse come from the other room. “—but for what it’s worth, yes. He and Magnus are totally work husbands. Which, I don’t get—” Clary throws her arms out in a wide gesture, almost wide enough to knock the camera out of Simon’s hands, and she gasps, a hand going to cover her mouth. “Sorry! Anyway, I don’t get it. Magnus isn’t dating anyone, and I’m pretty sure Alec only went on one date with that guy from the warehouse."
Jace looks up from his computer. “They went out last night, too,” he says loudly, and in a particularly cold directorial choice, Simon turns the camera to Magnus’ direction, where the older man is staring down at his planner, mouth in a thin line. He taps his fingers against his desk in an annoyed rhythm, and while Simon can’t say it, he’s sure that Magnus is legitimately bothered by Alec’s potential dating status.
It’s strange, that as much as Simon, for a good grade, wants to capitalize on the weird romantic tension between Magnus and Alec, he and everyone else in the office seems so invested in it, too. They tease Magnus about getting up to go see Alec at his desk every hour, and they notice that Magnus is the only person that Alec will allow to steal candy and paperclips.
Alec trudges back into the office, sleeves rolled up to his elbows—he’s got a stack of half-torn papers in his hand, like he had to wrestle them away from the demonic copier, and—
—and just as soon as Magnus had looked annoyed at the thought of Alec dating someone else, he smiles a kind, familiar smile when the young man walks back into the room.
“We might need a new copier,” Alec announces to the room, and Simon pivots the camera back to face Clary, who shrugs helplessly.
“We need a new copier,” she repeats, like it’s such a simple statement.
On a boring Wednesday, late in October, Isabelle Lightwood struts into the office, and—tellingly, on Simon’s part—the camera falters like the young man holding it has nearly dropped it. Izzy is beautiful—long, inky black hair that cascades in loose waves down her back, soft-looking skin, and curves. It’s possible that she knows how good-looking she is, but she doesn’t seem to care that the camera’s following her movements.
In fact, she doesn’t even question why there’s a camera in her father’s office. She knows her father’s eccentricities well enough to take some things, like an invasive camera, at face-value.
Instead, she makes her way to the receptionist desk and begins to take Skittles before Alec can even make a movement to stop her. He’s hardly annoyed, though, leaning back in his chair as his sister leans over to talk to him.
“Thought I’d take you out to lunch today,” she says. “Jace, too.”
“Sounds good,” Alec nods. “We’ve got lunch at twelve, so if you want to stick around for a few minutes?"
She smiles, not unkindly. “I’ll go talk to Dad for a bit to kill the time. Hey,” she says loudly, smiling spreading across her pretty features, “did Mom send you that invite to her and Luke’s party?”
“The Halloween party, costumes mandatory? Yes, unfortunately, I did.” He rolls his eyes, and in an uncharacteristic move, he takes a few of his own Skittles and begins eating them, making a face once he’s realized that he bought the sour variety. “Are you bringing anyone with you? Raphael?”
With a long, dramatic sigh, she shakes her head, and her brother raises an eyebrow as she says, “No. He and I…aren’t exactly talking right now. Mutually. And on good terms.”
“Sounds amicable,” Alec agrees sarcastically. “That’s probably for the best, Mom didn’t like Raphael.”
“You mean you didn’t.”
“…that, too.”
For a few moments, Isabelle is silent, though her dark gaze scans the room in a critical but objective sort of way. She seems more like Alec than Alec seems like Robert, and Simon silently reasons that the two of them must take after their mother, then, with that dark hair and those unsettlingly unimpressed expressions that cross their attractive faces more than half the time.
The shot closes in on the siblings, and Izzy gestures toward Magnus. “Is that him?” she asks quietly, immediately gaining an alarmed, wide-eyed look from her brother. “It totally is—” She gives Magnus another critical look, running her gaze along his figure and taking in the sight of his pleated trousers and cappuccino-colored cardigan, then mouths, He’s cute. She smiles when her brother hides his groan behind his mouth, and then, in a swift move, Isabelle crosses the space to Magnus’ desk, leaning against it.
“Hi,” she drawls.
Magnus doesn’t miss a beat. “Hi, yourself.” He’s as cordial and charming as ever and is able to hang his phone back in the receiver without even looking at it.
“So you’re my brother’s best friend here,” Izzy continues with an easiness about her. “Good thing, too, I almost got the receptionist job, but apparently I’m too ‘irresponsible.’”
“That's a lot of air quotes," Magnus observes, momentarily caught off-guard. He quickly catches himself, though. "What a shame, maybe we would’ve been best friends instead.”
Izzy’s bright smile matches her bubbly voice. “We could still—”
“Izzy.” Alec presses a button to transfer a call, but he doesn’t pull his gaze away from his sister and Magnus. For all the similarities between himself and Isabelle, he seems more anxious than she does. Alec makes a quick note on the sticky pad in front of him, the squeak of the marker filling the air to drown out the uncomfortable beats of quiet. “If you want lunch, you should probably make a reservation right about now.”
As he pulls the shot away from Alec and his raised eyebrow that’s practically scrutinizing the immediate closeness between Izzy and Magnus, Simon makes a mental note to edit the sound to make the Sharpie sound even louder. He tells himself, for the sake of the project, that bouts of awkward silence make for a better movie.
Jace looks particularly annoyed on Halloween, and even the little pair of felt cat ears glued onto the yellow headband that digs into his hair does nothing to make him look more pleasant. The blond had been quick to avoid Clary and her liquid eyeliner before she could make a move to mark his nose and cheeks with catlike features, and he doesn’t look to be particularly in the mood for the holiday—part of that reason could be because he’s got a plate on his desk with a mountain of Jell-O and a stapler suspended in the semi-transparent green form.
“It’s Halloween, not April Fools’,” he grumbles. He glares at Magnus’ empty computer chair, and Simon zooms in to refocus on it.
At the current moment, Magnus is leaning on Alec’s receptionist desk, one leg crossed behind the other in an overly comfortable stance. The two of them are laughing and talking in low whispers, and Magnus shrugs his shoulder in Jace’s direction. With a snort, Alec looks down and shakes his head. Simon’s not very good at reading lips that say more than He’s cute, but he thinks that Alec says something very similar to He’s going to kill you.
While Jace is a cat for Halloween, Magnus is his own fashionable version of a witch. He’s got the pointed hat and everything, but he’s also decided to break some office fashion rules and swiped some glittery highlighter along his cheekbones and even smudged some dark eyeliner underneath his eyes. He’s probably too handsome to be anyone’s immediate thought of a witch, but he’s handsome, anyway, and Alec had definitely noticed when the other man had walked into the office at the beginning of the day.
Alec, meanwhile, is wearing a nametag that only says “Life.” In the candy dish’s usual spot is a bowl with a few lemons resting in it. Just as Simon’s thinking about what he’s wearing, Magnus gestures to Alec’s shirt with a confusedly pleasant smile.
“Um, you know,” Alec says, half-embarrassed as he looks down at his computer, “when life gives you lemons.”
Pausing, Magnus finally breathes out a surprised laugh, his chuckle filling the air. Maybe he’s trying a shade too hard, all but doubling over with laughter, but there’s something intensely amusing about serious Alec Lightwood, with the judgmental stares and the uptight personality, making the smallest of puns, and lighting up like a Christmas tree when Magnus smiles as widely as he does, laughing as freely as he does.
Alec nods along with Magnus’ laugh and rolls his eyes. “Yeah, yeah, laugh all you want.” He drums his fingers along his desk, and when Magnus makes a grab for one of the lemons, gently pushes him away. “Don’t touch my lemons, I paid for those."
“I’ll give you a quarter.”
“Two quarters.”
Though shocked when Magnus begins to fish in his pocket for a few quarters, Alec holds out his hand. Once he has two shiny silver coins, he gestures to the bowl of fruit. “All yours.”
Magnus plucks one of the lemons, holding it in his hand for a moment before letting it roll down his arm and then flicking it up into the air, catching it in a fluid motion. Pretending not to be impressed, Alec goes back to his work, but he does glance up at Magnus from under his eyelashes.
“Next time it’ll be a dollar.”
With a long, annoyed breath, Jace turns to Simon’s direction and says, “You know what, I’ll tell you why those two aren’t dating.” Though he pretends not to be concerned with Magnus or with Alec (despite the fact that he and Alec are roommates, and before that, he was literally adopted by the Lightwood family when he was younger), or their lack of a relationship, even he is aware of the chemistry between them. The blond folds his arms across his chest as he talks. “When Alec started here, Magnus was in a long-term relationship that ended pretty messily. By the time he figured out that Alec had a major thing for him, Alec was already seeing that Underhill guy from the warehouse.”
Simon’s quiet for a few moments, and he considers shutting off the camera, but he’s unwilling to miss a moment of this office’s drama. He turns the camera onto Maia, who’s wearing a small pair of wolf ears, and she pretends to bare her teeth at the young man before stifling a few cute giggles. None of them get much work done during Halloween, though Maia still tries to get some things accomplished.
As she picks up her phone and starts to dial a number, she cocks her head at the camera. “You ever going to interview me?"
“You have any juicy office gossip?” Simon retorts.
She smirks, shrugs, and holds the phone between her ear and her shoulder as she waits for a potential client to pick up. “Be my date to Luke’s party tonight, and I’ll tell you some stuff."
The camera bobs up and down with Simon’s silent agreement, and he turns the device back onto Magnus and Alec, both of whom are watching each other and are entirely oblivious to Simon’s spying. In fact, Simon can get up and move a little closer to them without either making any mention of the movement.
“Are you coming to the party tonight?” Alec asks.
Magnus shrugs, now running his thumb across the lemon in an almost-nervous fashion. “I was invited, but I hardly know Mrs. Lightwood—”
“—Miss Trueblood,” Alec corrects.
“Oh, of course. Well, I don’t know her very well, and I doubt Luke would mind if I were missing for one little engagement.” He bobs his shoulders in a slow motion, and Alec seems conflicted for a moment before he gives an intake of breath, like he’s thinking about saying something else.
He’s quiet for another second, and the camera’s focus rests on the younger man’s face, conflicted and a little thoughtful, before he looks up at Magnus. “What if you went with someone, so you weren’t so bored?” He reaches for the container of paperclips on his desk and pulls one out, which brings with it a whole strand of metal clips, like an adult-version of those Barrel of Monkey toys.
Panning away from Alec’s face, Simon settles on Magnus. He blinks a few times in surprise, mouth pulled in an uncertain smile. It’s as if he can’t imagine that Alec’s asking him to go anywhere, let alone to a party hosted by his mother, and in the spirit of disbelief, he’s not sure how to answer.
“You’re not…taking Andrew with you?” the other man asks. He swipes the string of paperclips away from Alec in a teasing gesture. It’s also, Simon presumes, Magnus’ manner of asking a question that means a lot to him without seeming like such a question bothers him.
He tries to seem uncomplicated and unconcerned, but Alec probably sees through him. If Simon knows what Magnus is thinking, then even Alec, oblivious as he is to Magnus’ obvious affection for him, has to know that Magnus is anxiously awaiting the answer.
“He’s busy,” Alec simply says.
Beside Simon, Maia makes a face, eyebrows raised and lips turned downward; Alec’s response has prompted everyone to think of a whole new set of questions—is this a date? Is Alec asking Magnus out? Are he and Andrew still dating? Were they even dating to begin with? Are they ever actually going to get any work done in this sorry excuse for a stimulating career choice?
Magnus hums thoughtfully. He makes room when Clary enters the office, her nose painted red because she’s dressed as a non-threatening clown this year (though Simon’s still freaked out by the sight of her in a high-collared purple shirt, her hair frizzy from teasing and too much hairspray—he figures that if she wanted to be eccentricfor Halloween, she could have just as easily put in those pair of fish-shaped earrings Simon once got her as a gag gift and dressed as Ms. Frizzle). The redhead doesn’t notice anything different about Magnus and Alec’s conversation, since they’re always hanging out together at the receptionist’s desk, though she does glance over curiously at Jace, who just rolls his eyes and goes back to work.
Perhaps, if his stapler hadn’t been refrigerated in a Jell-O mold, he would be more supportive.
“Then I guess I can’t let you show up to your mother’s alone,” Magnus eventually says. He drops his head to return the paperclips to their container and doesn’t notice Alec’s smile soften into a ridiculously fond curve.
Fortunately, however, the camera doesn’t miss it.
By the workday’s end, Simon’s got all his filming equipment back in his camera bag, and he shrugs it over his shoulder as he follows Maia to her car. He’s still recording with his phone, though, just in case he misses something at the party, and he turns the device onto her as she starts the engine.
Maia breathes out a laugh and rolls her eyes. “I was lying about all that office gossip stuff. I try to keep out of people’s business.”
It’s not hard to believe—Maia’s just working at the paper company to pay off some of her student debt before she applies to grad school to continue her studies. As an aspiring marine biologist, she knows that she’s got plenty of schooling left if she wants a good job. Although she’s nervous, about taking some time off before returning, she hopes to be able to transition to part-time work the next year and juggle that along with her schoolwork. Robert can’t afford to lose her, honestly, since she’s so good at getting clients, and he’s likely to let her do what she wants, as far as work is concerned, so long as she doesn’t quit.
“Oh, so you just like baiting me?” Simon chuckles.
Maia shakes her head. “No, I just needed to convince you to come to this party with me. This…super fun party,” she quickly amends before she can say something too incriminating.
“Yeah, I’m thinking it’s going to fun—”
It is, in a “semi-professional adults who only know each other through work can pretend to like each other when given enough champagne” sort of way. Clary waves when she sees Simon and Maia, her arm looped through Jace’s as he talks to who Simon can only assume is Maryse. When he’s not being annoyed by Magnus and his never-ending stream of pranks, Jace is downright amicable.
“Simon, you’re still not wearing a costume—” Clary complains.
“Yeah-huh,” Simon argues. “I’m totally that guy from RENT.”
“The one with the camera,” Maia explains dryly, and she takes Simon’s arm to lead him over to the drink table. He keeps turning the device to catch the sights of the party, and he definitely focuses in on Isabelle, who’s dressed as Angelina Jolie’s version of Lara Croft, but he lets out a delighted noise (a sound that can easily be edited out of the final project, he reminds himself) when he notices Magnus and Alec standing close to each other. Both of them have red plastic cups in their hands, and while Magnus moves with a rhythmic ease to the music, Alec is awkwardly standing completely still.
Taking note of the other man’s discomfort, Magnus snorts a small laugh. He reaches out with a hand and grips Alec’s shoulder, shaking it in an attempt to proverbially loosen the younger man’s stuffy personality.
With a tight smile, Alec shakes his head and drops his gaze. He’s clearly not the dancing type, is as awkward outside of the office as he is in it, but he doesn’t push Magnus away. Instead, he takes a step closer, the space between himself and Magnus much smaller now. The other man doesn’t seem bothered, only glances up at Alec with a pensive sort of smile. He leans forward in a slow movement, and—though he’s a bad friend, he’s a great cameraman—Simon zooms in on the pair.
Alec looks like he wants to kiss Magnus, he really does, and maybe he’s sent the wrong idea by inching closer to Magnus in the first place, but he pulls away abruptly and lifts his cup to his lips in an even more direct block, taking a long, distinct sip of the drink. The young man ignores the hurt look that crosses Magnus’ expression, like he understands that this—them—isn’t going to happen tonight, or any night.
Alec is dating someone else, and Magnus hasn’t made a move until tonight. For all Alec knows, Magnus has had his chance and he blew it, and Alec can’t be the guy who makes out with someone who isn’t his boyfriend. At his mother’s party, no less.
Pivoting the shot away from the two, who are now staring at anything but each other, Simon returns the focus to Maia, whose mouth is in a thin, concerned line. Her lips pull into a sympathetic pout, and she looks over at Simon. “Consider this my interview,” she mutters, wincing when Magnus abruptly makes his way through the crowd in a hurried walk back to his car.
After the Halloween party, Alec breaks up with Andrew. It’s not a harsh split; the two were barely going out, and it’s more of a formality. From what Simon gathers, Alec could have just as easily stopped calling the blond man (who, by the way, is described as an “absolute angel” by the rest of the office and is still invited to almost any social gathering the office puts together outside of work), and it would have been just the same. When Alec discusses the matter with Jace in a bored, quiet voice, Magnus looks away pointedly. He’s trying not to look hopeful about the prospect.
Alec fiddles with the mic that’s attached to his shirt collar. He frowns as his fingers get tangled up in the cord, eventually giving up when Simon pleads with him to not damage the equipment.
“I’m pretty sure you bought this at the dollar store,” Alec grumbles.
“Pretty sure it’s mine, please don’t break it,” Simon retorts. It’s his last day of filming, and then comes editing—over this length of recording the antics of a supposedly normal and boring office, Simon’s changed his directorial vision more than once—at first, he wanted to make the employees seem helplessly dull, trapped in a monotony of paper pushing and ringing phones. And then, once he realized they had real personalities, Simon thought about turning it into a drama, hoping to find someone (Jace) who was just antsy enough to try to break free from the job, perhaps in a full-postal sort of way, with less violence.
Then, he figured out that Alec and Magnus liked each other, and he wanted to turn his film into a romantic comedy. Results are pending.
Alec rolls his eyes, a now-familiar expression, one that barely even offends Simon any longer. “Yeah, well, glad you got what you needed.” In the space of Simon’s documentary filming schedule, Alec’s gotten more friendly with the camera, and thankfully, since Alec’s break-up, Magnus has returned to hanging around his desk, pranking Jace and sharing inside jokes with the receptionist.
“Okay, so…I know this isn’t really part of the job, but—I’m gonna be honest, I think you and Magnus are—”
Shrugging, Alec settles into his chair. He isn’t stupid, already knows what Simon is going to say, but his gaze travels the room, betraying his passive expression. “Yeah, it’s—Magnus is an amazing person. We get along, he’s funny—”
“—and you two aren’t…?”
The taller man shakes his head. “No. No, I—I don’t know, maybe it’s one of those timing things that’s never going to work out the way you think it will. And I’m fine with that, we’re still great friends—” He’s going to say something else to continue his interview, but there’s a knock against the open door, and Alec looks over, surprised to see Magnus leaning against the wall, a lazy smile playing on his lips.
“Hey.”
“Hey,” Alec repeats.
Pushing himself off the wall, Magnus scratches the back of his ear as he thinks of something to say. Finally, he loosely folds his arms across his chest and says, “Hey, so I was wondering if you wanted to go get coffee sometime?”
Alec is quiet for a second. His expression doesn’t change, but he nods in a small, quick movement. “Yeah. Sounds fun.”
“Yeah. Great—” Magnus nods, too, and he laughs nervously before he darts away, back to his desk, leaning his chair back.
Though the lighting makes the room seem washed-out and dull, Simon closes the frame around Alec’s frame. He isn’t paying attention to Simon, is still watching the space where Magnus had been standing, and a small smile crosses Alec’s features. He bites it back, but his gaze softens, and it’s only then that he looks back to the camera, blinking confusedly.
“…I don’t know. Maybe the timing’s good,” he amends quietly.
Simon gets a B on his film (apparently, blaring DJ sound effects whenever Jace learned that he was pranked did not a perfect film make), but he enjoys getting to see the rest of the office watch the finished product. Isabelle’s sitting close to him, her hand resting against his knee as she laughs at a shot of Clary screaming when the printer spat too many papers at her.
“I don’t even work here, and this is hilarious,” she mutters.
Maia cringes when there’s a long scene of Robert clipping his fingernails at his office, examining each digit before starting in again, the sound of his clippers clicking in uncomfortably loud intervals. She tries not to look too disturbed, especially since their boss doesn’t seem bothered by the footage, and she wrinkles her nose at Simon when he narrows his eyes playfully.
There’s also a montage of Jace shouting, “Magnus!” in different tones and intonations at one point in the film, though the sound of name is never less annoyed or accusatory than the last. Through the editing process, Simon found himself amused but overwhelmed at the sheer amount of times Magnus pranked Jace, and even the blond has to admit that there are a few funny misunderstandings sprinkled into the film.
Clary pats her boyfriend’s shoulder admiringly. “You’re so brave,” she tells him, only joking a little.
Alec and Magnus are sitting next to each other, Alec’s arm resting on the back of Magnus’ chair as they watch the movie. At times, they both roll their eyes at the obliviousness of their relationship, though Alec does frown at the missed opportunity of a kiss during the Halloween party. Simon had made certain to ask permission to include that clip, and neither Alec nor Magnus had minded.
When the documentary relays Magnus’ awkward go at asking Alec out, though, both men smile fondly, inadvertently, like they don’t even know how happy they are, watching a retelling of their still-early relationship unfolding.
Eventually, Alec looks over at Magnus. “You told him about the juggling?” he asks quietly, shocked, though he smiles when the other man shrugs.
“You told him about the close-up magic.”