Work Text:
Magnus pulls his attention away from the spellbook he had been studying for the better part of the day at the sound of footsteps. He looks up, and, in the door frame, haloed by the light of their shared bedroom, stands Alexander Gideon Lightwood in a loose black t-shirt, ratty gray sweatpants, and all his glory.
His always messy black hair is wet and plastered against his forehead, and he looks… well, exhausted, to say the least; like he’s about to fall asleep on his feet. Which is understandable, Magnus supposes.
He and his parabatai, Jace, had been out patrolling all night. And, while that isn’t an unusual occurrence on its own, Alec also hadn’t had a moment to catch a break all day. Not between having to attend a meeting with the New York Vampire Clan, which is always a tiring experience, having to help Maia Roberts with a rogue werewolf and getting knocked into a pile of trash in the process, and then having to chase down Jace who thought it would be funny to eat faerie fruit again (because he obviously didn’t learn anything from the first time around).
Magnus knows this all because Alec had been sending him texts about how annoyed he was all day. Sometimes with an attached selfie- just in case his boyfriend hadn’t gotten the memo on how annoyed he was with the first message.
Alec flicks the lights off in their bedroom and pads across the loft, towards Magnus, and Magnus magics away his book, sitting up from where he was lying sprawled across the couch. He reaches out when Alec is just in front of him and hooks his fingers beneath the hem of Alec’s shirt. Magnus pulls Alec closer, gathers him in his lap, and says, “Hi.”
The smile he receives makes his insides melt in the way only Alec has ever been able to make them melt.
“You already said hi when I got home,” Alec says back, his breath hot against the shell of Magnus’s ear. “But hi yourself. I missed you.”
“But you’ve been gone so long,” Magnus grins and Alec arches a single eyebrow in amusement. “Your shower was exactly 21 minutes long- that’s 21 minutes too long.”
“Yeah, well, I guess that’s what happens when you have to clean up after getting thrown into a dumpster. You don’t even want to know what I found in my hair.”
Alec shifts slightly so both of his knees are digging into the cushions of the couch on either side of Magnus’s thighs, and he wraps his runed arms loosely around Magnus’s neck. Magnus reaches up and cups Alec’s jaw with both of his hands. He leans in to press a quick, chaste kiss to Alec’s lips, but it seems that the shadowhunter has other plans.
Alec’s calloused hands move from where they’re resting on the nape of Magnus’s neck and up to his hair, threading through the silky usually-spiked locks with ease. He presses closer, his mouth a warm, familiar line against Magnus’s own.
Magnus returns the kiss with a pleased noise, and, when they finally pull away from each other after a few moments, Alec is staring at him with blue eyes full of love and fondness. Magnus is sure his own cat eyes are reflecting the look.
“I missed you too,” Magnus adds in a soft voice. “How was your day?”
“Exhausting,” Alec says, and Magnus can relate. After being woken up at the crack of dawn to work with an incredibly rude client, Magnus then had to summon a demon and wait all day for yet another rude client because, apparently, rude clients love to ask Magnus for magical help.
“My brother is an idiot,” Alec adds.
“What’s new?” Magnus asks. Alec swats his arm.
Magnus leans back against the couch cushions until he’s lying flat on his back. He pulls Alec, who easily complies, down with him until the shadowhunter’s body is draped entirely across his own. Alec- who, Magnus has noticed, always feels like an ice cube- immediately curls into the warmth of Magnus’s body like a cat, sighing contentedly.
Magnus bends his knee and presses his foot flat against the couch, creating a barrier to keep his shadowhunter from accidentally rolling off of him. Not that Alec’s reflexes would allow him to actually ever hit the floor, but it’s the gesture that counts, right?
Alec tucks his face into the section of skin where Magnus’s shoulder meets his neck and inhales deeply. “This is nice,” he murmurs and Magnus lets out a low hum of agreement.
Magnus runs a soothing hand down Alec’s back, and the shadowhunter in question shudders before he practically melts beneath the ministrations of his hand. He intertwines his other hand through Alec’s hair and strokes through it gently, in the calming way he knows Alec likes.
Eventually, Alec’s breathing slows; Magnus can feel the shadowhunter’s steadily beating heart pressed against his own chest as he closes his eyes, letting the day wash away.