Work Text:
It’s not a big deal.
It’s not.
There’s no reason to get flustered. None whatsoever. He - they - have done a lot more than this.
He looks at Magnus’ round, pink mouth and thinks: I kissed that mouth. I know the shape of it, the softness, the way his lips move under mine. I know what he tastes like.
He looks at Magnus’ neck and thinks: I know the feel of the tendons against my teeth. I know the taste of salt on his skin against my tongue. I know the noises he makes when you find the right spot.
He looks at Magnus’ hands, deft and elegant and constantly in motion, and thinks: I know what it feels like when his fingers explore my skin. I know what they feel like when they bury themselves in my hair. I know the magic that springs from them.
So it’s not a big deal.
Or at least it shouldn’t be.
Still, he finds himself tongue-tied when Magnus slides his clever fingers in between his, tangles them together with a soft squeeze and an even softer smile.
It’s not - it’s nothing racy, but it’s soft and casual and no - no statement, the way Alec has to admit their first kiss was; a huge fuck you to the Clave. There’s no urgent need behind it, no hormones clouding their judgement and spurring them on. Magnus, Alec knows, has been careful, almost overly cautious, about touching him in public, as if he were a spooked horse, always prepared to run if Magnus moves too quickly.
But this - this almost absentminded contact over the dinner table, no goal in mind except that he wants to and he can - for some reason, this is what does him in. The casualty, the trivial nature of it at its core - as if they’ve done this a thousand times, as if there’s nothing unusual about it, as if Magnus expects to still be doing this years, maybe decades, from now.
Alec stares at their hands, his pale skin against Magnus’ golden hues, and thinks about how it is that small gestures can be so big, mean so much.
Silence falls between them, and Alec startles - it seems he missed his cue, lost track of the tale Magnus was spinning. He faces Magnus’ expectant eyes and blushes, but - as always, Magnus is there to help him bridge the gap. He’s noticed Alec’s fascination with their tangled hands, that much is clear - his smile softens even more, his eyes glistening with mischief and affection, and his thumb caresses Alec’s skin as he launches into his next tall tale, giving Alec time to collect himself.
I love him, he thinks, wildly, madly. I love him.
He bites back the words. It’s too early for - it’s too soon for anything. But he knows, suddenly, irrefutably, what his future will be,
If he can, he will never let go of Magnus’ hand.