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The crack of thunder awakes him from his half-sleep.
Magnus wakes up to find Alec tracing idle patterns along his arm, already awake. He leans into Alec’s touch, his hand stirs, fingers curling around Alec’s hand. The smoothness of Alec’s ring is cold against Magnus’ palm before it warms from the heat under his skin.
“Can’t sleep?” Magnus’ words struggle through his yawn. The sounds come out in a gurgle, thick from a relaxed sleep. And the lingering traces of an ache from them having spent a greater part of the night getting reacquainted with one another after a prolonged separation. Time spent squeezing as much pleasure as they could from one another. For each other.
“Don’t want to,” Alec murmurs, watching Magnus rub his eyes, easing the sleep out of them.
The comfort of Alec’s presence, the man he loves with all his heart and then some, is as tangible right now as it was when their bodies were connected earlier, pressed urgently against each other. “What are you thinking about?”
“You,” Alec says without blinking, more endearing than he has any right to be. “Marrying you.”
Magnus feels himself inhale sharply. Alec says these words so easily; it takes his breath away. Magnus isn’t consumed enough by vanity to think he’s the first Downworlder to commit to a Shadowhunter, but it’s a beginning like nothing else. As if they’re on the verge of something much larger than how much they love one another.
“I love seeing you like this. Speechless.” Alec looks at him, eyes tender, and inquiring in the low light of the lamp. He leans forward and presses his lips to Magnus’ temple, his nose brushing along the line of Magnus’ hair. Alec’s words vibrate against his skin, and Magnus closes his eyes, his lashes curling against Alec’s cheek. Quietly, he basks in the moment’s unassuming warmth.
Magnus remembers so many nights of whispered dreams, still in awe that all of it is finally coming true. He knows his life is about to change forever. And it feels like an awakening. Like waking from a long, tiring dream and finding himself grounded.
“No more loose ends,” Alec whispers.
It’s a strange feeling of being understood. And all the pieces fit into something coherent, no more a tangled mess. The tears and heartbreak—the half-tones of life, a lifetime spent longing for impossible things—seem to fade away. It’s a feeling that scares him. All too aware that the ground is always shifting beneath their feet. But suddenly, it doesn’t matter, for all his dissatisfaction with the world’s existence, it’s not dim anymore. For once, things aren’t falling apart.
Alec’s fingers graze his lips, mouth searching Magnus’. It fills him with a familiar kind of warmth. A blooming in his chest that momentarily untethers him from the world’s cares. He tugs at Alec’s hair and kisses him back.
Tomorrow, there will be time for words—for everything else. Tonight is an unspoken promise. Existing only between them.