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“WHO DARES TO DISTURB THE HIGH WARLOCK OF BROOKLYN?”
Soft giggles sounded through the intercom, giving Magnus a vague idea of the visitors. “It’s me! Max!”
“Come in then, blueberry.” Sighing, Magnus let Max and whoever was with him today in.
Was it Saturday already? Saturdays meant lessons with Max, but he could bet it was only Tuesday yesterday. This week had felt particularly long, with several meetings in the Spiral Labyrinth and lots of demanding clients, and the previous night there’d been a warlock incident in Italy while he was visiting a friend there. He’d only come home when the sun was already up, and just as he’d closed his eyes, 11 am had come and his visitors had as well.
“Magnus!” Suddenly, Max was rounding the corner and throwing himself onto Magnus’s bare chest. “I missed you so much! I haven’t seen you for so long!”
“I missed you too, little blueberry,” he said, hugging the overjoyed little warlock. “How have you been?” Magnus managed to disentangle himself, standing up, throwing a robe over his shoulders and tying it up.
“Amazing! Dad taught me some new moves and now I’m just like a ninja! I could be Leonardo, his bandana is blue like me! And you can be Michelangelo — his eyes aren’t as pretty as yours, they all have the same eyes, but his bandana is kinda yellow.” Max looked excited as he spoke, continuing to explain why Magnus was the best Michelangelo. Apparently, the Institute had finally decided to catch up with mundane pop culture, starting with the 90s-era animated series. Magnus would bet that Clary and Simon had initiated it, though Izzy or Jace could have as well—
“And what am I? Chopped liver?” came another voice, and Jace Herondale appeared in Magnus’ doorway. “You told me I’m Michelangelo because he’s the coolest.”
“No, Raphael is the coolest and I said Dad is Raphael ’cause Dad is the coolest. But don’t worry, you can be Donatello.”
“Okay, I’ll take what I can. Hey, Magnus,” he added, shaking the warlock’s hand. It was still strange for Magnus to be friendly with Shadowhunters in general, and this annoying one in particular, but he’d had good reasons to do so lately.
Things had been going better for the last couple of years between the Downworld and the Shadowhunters, and some kind of trust and understanding was being built. That was why Magnus hadn’t been surprised when the Head of the New York Institute asked for a meeting one day. What he was surprised about was the fact that he didn’t ask as the Head, but simply as Alec Lightwood, and that the meeting wasn’t to be held in his office or the cabinet for monthly Nephilim-Downworld meetings. The Shadowhunter asked to meet somewhere more private instead.
It was during that meeting that Magnus found out that Alec Gideon Lightwood, Head of the New York Institute, generally known for being grumpy and aloof, had a son. More than that, Magnus found out he had one more warlock on his territory than he thought. That in itself wouldn’t have been such a strange occurrence, if the warlock in question would have been an adult, and not under the age of five. It would be sad, but not that uncommon, if the warlock had no one to care for them or a couple of terrified mundane parents, not knowing how to deal with their own child. That wasn’t the case, though, as the warlock apparently had a loving family — family consisting of Shadowhunters.
That was how Magnus found himself having weekly meetings with Max, the little warlock, teaching him to control and use magic. That was also how he found himself growing closer to the Head of the New York Institute, something he’d never thought would happen, but spending time together almost every week would do that to you. Apart from the weeks when Alec was busy and one of his siblings brought Max to his lessons.
“You look awful, mate.”
“Thank you, Jason, it’s so nice to meet you again, sweet as ever.” To be honest, Magnus felt awful as well. He didn’t have enough energy for a bath or even a shower before falling into bed last night, and he couldn't remember taking off his makeup, so chances are he also looked like a glittery panda.
“No, I’m serious. I can take the little one and we’ll come next week.”
“Nah, no need. And I don’t think Max will appreciate that. I just need some time to properly wake up and I’ll be okay.”
“Okay, so we’ll just wait here and you can go and do your beauty magic.”
“Yeah, let’s do that. James, behave. Max, look after him,” Magnus said with a wink, watching a smile grow on the tiny face. He needed some time for himself before starting the day for real — to prepare himself, and to daydream about laying in tomorrow morning or not getting up all day. He knew that one thing or the other would eventually make him leave the soft sheets, but a man could dream.
He actually did let his thoughts wander while shedding the robe and the pants and standing under the hot shower, intended to wash out all the tiredness and relax the hard muscles. Surprisingly, or rather not surprisingly at all, a twelve-hour sleep and soft sheets didn’t turn out to be the object of his dreams. However, one dashing-looking man waking up on those sheets did.
The thing was, he knew he shouldn’t be falling for Alexander. He really, really shouldn’t. But here he was, thinking of the blue eyes and soft smiles. Thinking of the way Alec chose his words so deliberately every time he spoke; the way his gaze was sharp, reaching Magnus’ very soul, but also soft and kind. Understanding.
The worst thing, however, was that he didn’t think about throwing him on the bed and absolutely devouring him, or about the way his strong arms might pin Magnus to the wall, allowing the searching lips to do their job. That would have been fine. It really would have. Lust was familiar and well-known.
But Magnus didn’t think about that.
He thought about laying the man on the bed and just falling asleep together, being close. About how he might look in the morning, all bed-headed and sleepy. He thought about his hands caressing Magnus’ cheekbones, about their ankles crossing under the table. About how much he just wanted to press the lightest of the kisses to the man’s face.
In other words, trying not to be in love was like fighting a losing battle.
He’d had a crush on Alexander even before he met Max and discovered this deeply-caring, soft side of the Shadowhunter. But it had been just that — a little crush. Finding a man attractive and maybe worth trying some advances. This, though, this was deeper. Something Magnus didn’t feel frequently — he could count on his fingers all the times he’d ever felt like this. And with how disastrously everything ended with Camille, he’d thought he’d never feel that way again.
And here he was, falling for someone he definitely shouldn’t be falling for.
The thing was, Alexander was a father. It’s not like that was a problem per se, rather the fact that he had responsibilities not only for himself but for the other human being as well. Well, half-human being.
And Magnus loved Max with all his heart. The kid was sweet and gentle, as well as really smart for his age and brilliantly witty.
Magnus had never thought he'd have a child before. Most of the time he didn’t even dare to think about that. With the depressingly low number of serious relationships and romantic partners he’d had, the idea had never been on the table. He was a father figure for lots of people, but having an actual child would certainly be different. Would he be able to be there for them, to look after them? Would he be able not to fuck this precious child up with how fucked-up he himself was? And more than that, would Alexander be willing to give him a chance?
And that was just it. Would Alec even want to consider Magnus to be anything? It was not only his own heart on the line, but also his son’s, so if things didn’t work out what would he do? Magnus was unwilling to hurt Max in any way and so he could only imagine how strongly Alec felt on that matter. On the matter of keeping his kid safe and happy and not making his life more difficult.
And there was one more thing.
Alexander’s soulmate.
It had been a long time since Magnus had last believed that he himself could ever find a soulmate. It’s hard to find them if you are immortal. They might not even be born until he reached a millenium, or might have been long-dead by the time he reached the tender age of one hundred. So what was the point of waiting for someone he might never even meet?
It was quite different for the Shadowhunters though. Fate wasn’t that cruel to them. Or rather, their fate was more often than not to die young, so in the short time they did have, they usually managed to find their intended one. A bit of kindness, to counteract the cruelty.
The system wasn’t ideal. Shadowhunters still married and divorced both their soulmates and others. Some people met, loved, and lived with someone not due to the Universe, Fate, or the Angels, but following their own hearts.
The others waited. It made sense, and it also did not. Soulmarks weren’t signs of a definite, ideal life together, but just a possibility of that. Some disregarded it. The others fought for that possibility.
Alexander was from the fighters. He’d told Magnus so on one of the late nights when Max had fallen asleep after the lesson and Alec had agreed to have a glass of wine with Magnus. He’d told him he’d always believed his soulmate would be special, The One in the purest of the ways the Angels or whoever planned the whole soulmate thing. That he couldn't help but feel that he was betraying whoever his soulmate was whenever he so much as thought of dating someone else.
And Magnus got that. He really did. But he couldn’t help but wish he was that someone, wish Alec was The One for him and he for Alec.
* * *
Magnus emerged from the en-suit bathroom 15 minutes later feeling like a whole new person. He hoped his living room was still there after being left to the mercy of one tiny warlock and one mostly idiotic Nephilim, and he allowed himself to take 15 more minutes to do his makeup, choose an outfit for the day, and methodically slide some rings down his fingers. Or maybe he could just do one of those things and magically finish the others, seeing as the time was short.
He sat on the vanity table and started looking for the right products when he heard a voice coming from the next room.
“Uncle Jace, I wanna learn to do sparkles like Magnus does. Do you think I can do that soon?”
“I don’t know, buddy, you’ll need to ask Magnus about that. And Uncle Jace? Really? We’ve been over that!” even through the wall his voice sounded exaggeratedly offended. Fake offended, that is. Apparently, Max knew that too, cause giggles followed the phrase. “I’m just Jace, not Uncle Jace. It’s not my fault my brother fathered you young.”
Magnus was almost sure muttered ‘told him to use protection’ followed after that. “Yeah, that’s certainly how warlock kids come to their Shadowhunter dads,” he mentally scoffed. “Cause said dads forget about contraception. Sure.”
“Don’t insult Daddy, Uncle Jace! He’s, he’s the best Dad in the world! And you are just old.”
“What? I’m old? That’s it, I’m offended now! I’ll have you know that I am younger than your father.”
“No, Uncle Jace, don’t be offended, I love you!”
“Oh Maxie, but how can I love you, I’m offended!”
Magnus stilled after hearing the words. They hit too close to home for so many warlock children. He’d lived a long life and seen many many young warlocks abandoned by their parents who weren’t able to love them. Some of them were lucky enough to find a new family, with a Downworlder parent loving them and accepting them; some were not. And even then it was difficult to build trust, it was difficult for kids to believe that their new parents wouldn’t go away, that they’ll love them forever.
The same day Alexander had told Magnus about his craving to find a soulmate, he’d also told him about the note that was left with Max.
That night was sure to be one to remember. Magnus adored late-night soul to soul talks. It’s hard to find something more intimate than that, the time when you can bare your soul and your heart, your most intimate feelings, and your most dark secrets.
What he didn’t adore were parents, abandoning their children, and notes, full of hate.
Who could ever love it.
Magnus didn’t know how anyone could look at the innocent baby and call him an it, call him unlovable, call him undeserving of love, but he was ready to fight every single person who thought so.
In spite of all of that, Magnus knew Max had a lot of love in his life. His family bathed him in it and he certainly was the most spoiled little warlock Magnus had ever met.
Well, he deserved it.
The laugh that sounded from the living room only proved that Max knew that was just some teasing.
“Whyyy, Uncle Jace?”
“Weeell,” Jace began, again overly dramatic. (And people called Magnus a drama queen.) “Your dad is always with you now and he wouldn’t ever hang out with me if it's not for work. We were always best friends and now he doesn’t have time for me, you see. You are his bestie now.”
“Noooo, I’m not, silly Uncle Jace. You are his best friend and I am his little monkey.”
“Yes, Max. You are my little monkey as well and I wouldn’t change it for the world. But sometimes I still miss my parabatai and the life we had when we were young and carefree.”
“Do you think Dad misses the caafee life as well?”
“I don’t know, Max. He always had much more on his shoulders than me or Izzy. And he is much happier when he is with you, even if it’s sometimes difficult to find time for everything. It’s like he wants to tear himself up. But there is one thing I know for sure and I want you to know that as well. He is the happiest man alive ’cause you are his son and he's proud to be your dad. He wouldn’t change it for the world. It's just hard to be an adult sometimes."
"I don't wanna become an adult then! I wanna be little and have fun."
"Adulthood can also be fun, Maxie. But I do really hope you'll stay little for as long as possible. And you'll be our favorite little monkey forever, that I can promise you."
“Love you, Uncle Jace.”
“I love you too, Maxie.”
A couple of minutes passed when Magnus could only hear the sound of the brush against his eyelashes and then Max’s overjoyed voice sounded.
“I know what we gotta do. We can share Dad!”
“Yeah, And how would that be? One half will be with me and the other half with you?”
“Yes!” Max laughed.
“Okay, little monkey”, it was clear from Jace’s voice that he was also stifling the laugh. “You are such a generous boy.”
“Yeah, I’m not some stingy ass!”
“Max! Where did you even hear that?”
“Tia Izzy said that! Dad maked me pancakes and he ate chocolate but not a tasty chocolate, but dark and bitter but he told me I can have some tasty after breakfast. And then Tia came to the kitchen and she wanted Dad’s chocolate and he didn’t gave it and she said he’s a stingy ass. And she said it means someone doesn’t want to share.”
“Yeah? Well, I suppose It’s a good thing you are not a stingy ass. Which part do you want? Left or right?” Magnus added some glitter to his cheekbones and stood up, deciding to interrupt the conversation before it was too late for poor Alexander. He snapped his fingers to change into a flowing shirt and some loose pants and quietly opened the door to the living room, leaning against the doorframe and waiting to be noticed.
“Hm, I wanna have the hands so Dad could cook for me. He makes pancakes better than you, and Tia Izzy always cooks everything burned and peppered, and I don’t like pancakes burned and peppered.”
“Yeah, and what if I want tasty pancakes as well? Do I need to free the tickling monster?” A loud laugh sounded as Jace started tickling the boy’s sides until he was laying on the couch and waving his limbs.
“You can take the legs so you can walk with him and go do the hunting!”
“Sounds fantastic, Max, such a creative boy!” Jace stopped the tickling and pressed a kiss to Max’s forehead. “Do you think dad will like the idea?”
“No, silly Uncle Jace! I was joking!”
“Okay, darlings, I feel like it’s time to interfere or we’ll need to look for the new Head of the Institute. Ready for your lesson, Max?”
“Yes!”
“Magnus, I need to go now, do you mind looking after Max for a couple of hours? Alec will come to collect him after that.”
“Sure, did you even need to ask? You go, Jasper, Blueberry and I here are going to have fun doing some sparkles.”
* * *
“Magnus, when am I gonna get my rune?” Max asked, drinking his cocoa. They finished the lesson a while ago and were now sitting on a sofa, drinking hot drinks and eating a cake from the local café.
And wasn’t that an interesting question? Magnus was pretty sure Max understood how the world worked, with Shadowhunters having their runes, blades and whatnot, warlocks having the magic and all the other Downworlders having their abilities, their strengths and weaknesses. Or maybe not. Was it similar to puppies growing up with kittens and adult cats, and then trying to meow instead of barking?
“Why would you get a rune, blueberry?” Magnus scooped the boy and sat him on his lap, looking into his eyes. “Shadowhunters have their runes and we have our magic. There is nothing wrong with being who you are and it doesn’t mean you are better or worse than someone else, just different.”
“Yeah, I know that. But you have a rune!”
“What?” now Magnus was just confused. “I don’t have runes, sweetie, they are for the Nephilim.”
“But I saw it this morning! I am a big boy and know the runes. Dad said I don't need to, but I asked and he told me about them. He has one to keep him safe on the neck, Deflect. He has a healing rune on his belly and one to make him stretchy, Flexibility, on his leg. He also has a Parabatai rune, it’s on his left side, and it means he is connected with Uncle Jace. And he has a love rune! It’s right where his heart is. And yours is exactly the same, here,” Max pressed his hands right over Magnus’ heart. Right where his soulmark was. Exactly the same as Alexander’s, it would seem.
“Max…” Magnus wasn’t sure what he was going to say but he didn’t have the chance to answer cause at the same moment the buzzer sounded.
“Oh, that’s Dad!” Max jumped down from Magnus' lap and ran to the door. Apparently, Alexander Lightwood had the ability to feel the best moment to arrive.
“Hello, Alexander,” Magnus greeted, still shocked by the new information. What now? Should he say something now? Probably not the best moment. It would be better if they were alone for this kind of conversation. Wait till the next Downworlder Cabinet meeting and corner Alec after it? Come to the Institute specifically to talk to him? Ask him to meet in for coffee? That sounded good, but public space could be pressuring…
“Hey, Maxie!” Alec lifted his son into his hands and hugged him tightly.
“Hi, Dad!”
“Hey, Magnus,” Alec smiled at him. The smile was radiant, as it was almost every time he came to the loft with Max. “So, having fun, boys?”
“Yes! Magnus taught me how to do sparkles. Look!” with that Max took his hands from around his Dad’s neck and with a flourish typical for Magnus’ magic-making made a bunch of sparkles from sky-blue to dark-blue and glittering fly around. “Don’t worry, Dad, they are not dangerous,” he caught one of the sparkles in his hand and tried to bend to let Dad take it.
“Okay, I see, you are such a smart and talented boy,” Alec took the sparkle, still holding Max with the other hand, and kissed his forehead. They were a picture of a beautiful family, and Magnus wondered how hard it had been to build. Shadowhunters weren’t big on letting children have a childhood, and from what he knew about the older Lightwoods, they were also not big on comforting their children, showing love, affection, or pride — or generally letting them be anything but a perfect image of the Shadowhunters.
Luckily for Max, and, frankly speaking, for the whole of New York as well, Alec was not his parents.
“I am! And did you know warlocks have runes as well?”
“Max…” Well, so much for thinking of the way to reveal the news to Alexander.
“Oh. Well, I did know that but isn’t he a bit too small for that?” the question was clearly directed to Magnus. “Sweetheart, I’m sure summoning demons might wait till you are a hundred year old warlock with a long beard and big nose,” he spoke to Max again nuzzling affectionately into his neck.
“Nooo, Dad! I won’t have a beard! Magnus is like ten thousand hundred million years old and he hasn’t got a beard! ” Magnus couldn’t help but laugh at this statement and he certainly heard Alec chuckling. “And my nose will be pretty not big!”
“I’m sure the big noses are pretty as well, Max. I’ve met people whose main highlights were their big pretty noses. For example—”
“Magnus, tell Dad we weren’t summoning the demons!”
“Alexander, I assure you, we weren't doing anything dangerous or out of age. However, I do believe that this conversation can—”
“Magnus has a rune, Dad! A love rune, I recognized it! It’s over his heart. Do all the warlocks also have runes? Are they different from yours? When do I get one? Can I choose what to get if I only can have one? I’d like—”
“Alexander...”
“Magnus. Is — is that true?” He didn't sound particularly disappointed or upset. It almost sounded hopeful, but Magnus might have been a little bit biased.
“Well, I’m not sure, darling. I haven’t seen you bare-chested, have I? But Blueberry certainly seems to believe so.”
Alec didn’t say anything, but Magnus could see him swallowing hard. Magnus could feel a lump forming in his own throat: he was overwhelmed and couldn’t understand if what he felt was hope, disbelief, fear or joy. All of that, most likely.
The next moment, Alec was gently lowering Max to the floor, then opening the top buttons of his shirt and pulling the side of it to uncover a mark over his heart. And there it was. The familiar swirls of black. Gentle, even fragile, and so strong. Alexander’s soulmark. The same soulmark Magnus was bearing over his own heart.
Magnus snapped his fingers, removing the glamor over his mark he was so used to having that it only slipped in the situations of near-death or great exhaustion. He pulled on his shirt to reveal the mark.
“Magnus,” Alexander rather sighed than said.
“Dad?” With Max’s words, the magic that seemed to settle over the two of them disappeared, but the floaty happiness and delight remained. “What does it all mean?”
“Max. The love rune, it’s not exactly a rune. It’s a soulmark. Everyone has one. If two people’s soulmarks are the same, that means people are meant to be together, to love each other.”
“Okay,” Max said, thinking over the words. “Does that mean you love Magnus? Magnus, do you love Dad? Do we need to share with you? We have already decided, but you can have the heart, where the love mark is.”
Alec looked completely confused about the whole sharing speech, but Magnus smiled at him softly, feeling his own love and adoration reciprocated in the other man’s gaze. How had he not noticed it before?
“Heart and soul, then? I’ll gladly take it.”