Work Text:
Every once in a while, Magnus was struck with the urge to redecorate.
It usually happened when his mind was busy, or when he was uncertain, or upset, or just generally feeling out of sorts. When there were decisions to be made that he’d rather not make or conversations to be had that he’d rather not have or when something terrible had happened that he’d rather not dwell on. Or, on a happier note, when something wonderful had happened that deserved tribute.
Either way, a change of scenery always did him well.
It helped quiet his busy mind, giving him something else to focus on. Sometimes that required a complete overhaul wherein the loft changed shape entirely, but usually swapping out some furniture and adjusting the colour palette was enough to satiate his inner interior design demon.
Magnus wiggled his fingers. Blue sparks danced between them and carried away towards the curtains, which were open to reveal the doors out to his balcony. The tasteful royal blue changed to an airy white.
Behind him, Alec stood carefully in the middle of the room, a solid few feet away from anything Magnus might think to remodel.
“I’m having a party,” Magnus had explained to him when he’d shown up ten minutes ago to absolute chaos. Alec had nodded in understanding despite clearly having no idea why this necessitated a complete overhaul of the loft and waited patiently for him to finish while making polite, meaningless conversation.
He had a weird energy about him that was becoming more and more apparent the longer he stood with his hands in his pockets and his shoulders tense. After ten minutes, Magnus couldn’t ignore it any longer. He dropped his hands from where they’d been twisting his magic around and turned to face him fully.
“Alright,” he sighed. “You have my undivided attention. What’s wrong?”
Alec opened his mouth, then closed it. He glanced at the new curtains like he’d been caught, then sighed. “There’s something else. About the children. Something I didn’t want to tell you over the phone.”
Unbidden, Magnus’s stomach tightened.
Alec had called him only yesterday to tell him the news that they’d found all the missing children unharmed in an old factory in the industrial district of the city. The relief had nearly knocked him over, and then he’d had to take a moment to tell himself that that was too strong a reaction, and then another to convince himself that it was relief at nothing terrible having happened to them and not in any part at the resources of the Institute no longer being spread so thin that Alec was working himself to the bone every second of the day.
It was partly why he’d decided to have a party. A celebration, of sorts, even though it was unlikely there would be any Shadowhunters in attendance. He’d hoped there’d be at least one, one who desperately needed a night off and who happened to make a wonderful drinking buddy, but he hadn’t asked him yet. He’d learned over the past few months that Alec was more likely to show up to something as foreign as a party if he didn’t have hours ahead of time, let alone days, to psych himself out of it.
The entire Shadow World had been on edge for weeks, a dark cloud hanging over them. He was sure it was even darker for the Shadowhunters. Finally, it looked like the skies were clearing. Or so he’d thought, at least.
Now, he felt sick at the implication that all was not well after all. Was there something wrong with the children? Were they not as alright as Alec had vaguely divulged over the phone? Was he here because they needed a warlock’s touch to try to fix whatever terrible thing had been done to them? Something he couldn’t tell him over the phone while Magnus was visiting a Downworlder hotspot where any nosey vampire or werewolf might overhear?
“They’re fine,” Alec hurried to clarify at whatever horrible expression must have crossed Magnus’s face. “Great, even. In perfect health. They don’t, however, have any memory of what they went through. Which is a blessing for them but shit for us because it means we have very little to go on to figure out who took them.”
Magnus frowned very, very deeply. He folded his arms across his chest, considering this. “Their memories were wiped?”
Alec nodded. “From the day they were taken to the day we found them.” He paused. A wary expression crossed his face. He surveyed Magnus carefully for a quick moment as though deciphering how he might react to what he needed to tell him next. Hesitantly, he continued, “They were in some kind of cellar under the factory. Only, the entrance was boarded up. And not recently. So they must have been portalled in.”
It took barely a moment for Magnus to understand where he was going with this. He gripped his arms tighter, tensing his shoulders and steeling himself for the rest of this conversation. “You think a warlock did this?”
“I don’t,” Alec replied, looking suddenly exhausted. “It could be, but it could also be a Shadowhunter. Obviously there are very few people who are willing to hear that, least of all the Clave.”
Magnus sighed. He uncrossed his arms, running a hand down his face. He turned away from Alec, surveying the changes he’d made to the room. It was nearly finished, only a few accent pieces that needed adjusting and then the walls. Maybe some party decorations. Banners? A disco ball? Magic fog?
“I’ll poke around,” he said. “See if I hear of any warlocks who could have reason to do such a thing.”
They both knew there would be plenty of warlocks with reason. Most of them had had centuries to collect grievances against the Clave. It would be more a matter of determining who would be willing to act on it, and even then it would likely be a long list.
Alec pursed his lips. “Thank you.”
Awkwardly, Alec glanced around, taking in the adjustments Magnus had made and the glittery array of cups on the long bartop to the side, waiting to be filled and mindlessly consumed. Even more awkwardly, he offered, “The place looks great. I hope you have fun tonight.”
Magnus canted his head to look at him properly. “You’re not coming?”
“Am I invited?” Alec asked.
“Of course,” Magnus told him, frowning. “Always. You should know that by now.”
Alec, taken aback, didn’t have a chance to respond before Magnus turned to focus on swatching wallpapers for an accent wall. He could feel Alec still looking at him, watching him flick his fingers and consider the merits of florals over something geometric. Or, at least, that was what Magnus was pretending to do so that neither of them would have to dwell on what he’d said. What it might’ve meant.
Of course. Always.
If he was being honest, Alec was the only guest whose attendance mattered to him. But that was not something he was ready to unpack, or something that he even should, and it was definitely not something he should say out loud.
It took until Magnus had settled on a fractal pattern with some subtle glitter inlays for Alec to cough and say, “Sure. Yeah. I’ll be here.”
Staring very intently at the wall, Magnus nodded. “Wonderful.”
Another beat passed.
“I should go back to the Institute,” Alec said. “Change. Let you finish getting ready.”
Magnus hummed. He glanced at him long enough to give a gracious smile. “I’ll see you tonight.”
“Of course,” Alec offered with a similar smile. He didn’t leave. Instead, he glanced at the door, the smile falling, and then bit his lip. Pushing his hands further into his pockets, he said, “I’m sorry, too. That we’re asking you to doubt your own people.”
Magnus was quiet for a long moment. This time the silence was pensive and heavy instead of awkward and charged. It wasn’t the first time the nephilim had turned an accusing gaze on the warlocks. It wasn’t the hundredth, even. But he’d be lying if he said this one didn’t hurt just a little bit more now that some of those nephilim were his friends.
It wasn’t worth his anger, though. The accusation wasn’t baseless. There were only two species who could have done this and they needed to find whoever it was. It had to be Magnus they asked to help them, to go hunting for dirt on his people, because he was the high warlock. This was his responsibility.
“I hope,” he replied carefully, “you find whoever’s responsible for this soon.”
Before whatever peace we’ve built these last few years is shaken.
Alec nodded grimly.
.
The party had been in full swing for a while before Magnus had a moment to himself. He was kept busy greeting guests, recasting the drink-generating spell on the bar, flirting with previous and possiblye future hook-ups, and magicking away each mess as soon as it spilled all over his hardwood floors. Between it all, he barely noticed Alec’s arrival.
And then, blissfully, the moment came where he bid his faerie dance partner goodbye, made his way to the bar uninterrupted by compliments or catch-ups, and took an entire sip of a shimmering pink martini without being corralled into a conversation.
He took a breath, turning to lean his back against the bar as he took another sip. He surveyed his work with admiration, happy with the success it’d turned out to be. The mood was more jovial than usual, that kind of buzz in the air that only came when a storm had come and gone. It was one reason Magnus loved the Downworld so fiercely. That, no matter what had happened in the past, they’d still worried, tried their best to help, and breathed a sigh of relief when the children were found safe and sound. He wasn’t sure the Shadowhunters would have had such a celebration if the roles had been reversed.
He cast the thought aside. Tonight was about joy and community and not dwelling on glum what-ifs.
Speaking of Shadowhunters, though, he was missing one. He did a quick scan of the room, but failed to spot a towering head of messy black hair. Isabelle wasn’t in attendance either, though she had for once been expressly invited, but she usually only came when she and Simon were on a break.
He didn’t dwell on the disappointment. It was still relatively early, at least for one of his parties, and maybe Alec had been held up at the Institute. There was a lot going on over there.
He took the final sip of his drink, magicked it full again, and headed back towards socialization. He spotted Lily in a confrontational-looking discussion with a werewolf and changed tracks, skirting around the edge of the crowd. It set his path directly along the floor-to-ceiling windows and door out to the balcony, which meant he caught something out of the corner of his eye that drew his attention. Instead of going to make sure no one was about to start an inter-species war, he pushed open the balcony door and stepped outside.
Because Magnus’s parties were open to all, he’d set up the balcony as well. Nothing special, just some atmospheric lighting and extra seating for the more introverted who might need a moment to recharge or anyone looking for a second of calm. So of course this was where he would find Alec.
He was leaning casually against the railing, a bit off to the side from the trio speaking quietly on the loveseat in the corner. He looked nice. His hair wasn’t messy, though something about the way he stood accentuated his height. He was wearing his more fashionable clothes, a few steps down from the semi-formal look suited to the Downworld council but a few steps up from his Shadowhunter-on-a-mission getup or what he’d wear to lose miserably to Magnus over a pool table.
He also wasn’t alone. Beside him stood Lorenzo Rey, drink in hand, smiling charmingly as he recounted one of his (highly embellished) stories. Alec was smiling back. It was difficult to tell in the dim light if it was genuine or just polite.
Still at the door, far enough away to not be noticed, Magnus hesitated.
Lorenzo Rey was far from his favourite person in the world, or his favourite warlock, or even someone he had vaguely positive feelings towards. Magnus hadn’t even known he was in the city, which felt like a violation of some high warlock custom that had probably never actually been written down. Lorenzo most certainly hadn’t been invited and he would have known he wasn’t exactly welcome, but he was here and Magnus knew him well enough to know when he was flirting with someone.
Holding his drink close to his chest, Magnus turned this over in his mind.
Alec could probably count on one hand the number of times a man had flirted with him. Even if he wasn’t interested, this was a good thing. A chance to test the waters and figure out what he wanted. To do so in a place where no one who mattered could see, and no one who could see would judge him.
On a night quite like tonight, on this very same balcony, Alec had asked him if he thought anyone would want to be with him. If nothing else, this might help put those fears to rest.
And from what he could tell, Alec didn’t look like he needed saving. He seemed fine. Which meant Magnus had no reason to go over there.
His mind made up, he set his hand back on the doorknob and started to turn around.
It was precisely ten seconds too late, though. Lorenzo had spotted him and started waving to him as he called him over. While Magnus carefully navigated the outdoor furniture and decorative plants, they smiled very politely at one another, which clearly communicated how displeased each was to see the other.
“Have you met Alec?” Lorenzo asked, gesturing grandly towards him. Like he was showing off a revolutionary discovery of his.
Magnus snorted. Dramatically and with great flamboyance, he extended a hand out for Alec to shake. “Why no, I don’t think I have. It couldn’t possibly be the Alexander Lightwood, head of the New York Institute, could it? I don’t think I’ve had the pleasure of making your acquaintance at any of the monthly Downworld cabinet meetings we both attend.”
It was in equal parts a successful attempt to draw a laugh out of Alec, though he quickly stifled it with his hand, and a dig at one of Lorenzo’s most exposed nerves. Both in serving as a reminder that Magnus was High Warlock which Lorenzo was not and that he was part of a super elite, super selective club which Lorenzo was not.
Lorenzo eyed him with thinly veiled murderous intent. “Right,” he said thickly, though he kept smiling. He glanced at each of them in turn, landing on Magnus. A part of his expression began making calculations. “You know each other well, I take it?”
“We do,” Magnus said. He took an unbothered sip of his drink. When he caught Alec’s eye, Alec’s smile lessened to his more genuine kind of half quirk of the lips and he shook his head just a little to tell him he knew what he was doing. Magnus gave him a subtle shrug of innocence.
“Well,” said Lorenzo, interrupting their silent communication. “I just wanted to tell you what a lovely little get-together this is. Not your best work, but the denizens seem to be enjoying themselves.”
Magnus inclined his head in gratitude. “Thank you, Lorenzo. Sometimes it’s nice to come together to have fun without all of the fanfare. I do say it is already much more successful than that last gathering of yours I attended in Spain. Not a demon in sight.”
“Debatable,” Lorenzo muttered under his breath. Then, at normal volume, “Ah, yes. Some things are out of our control. My last celebration was all the rage, I assure you. The high warlock of Paris even portalled in just for the occasion. It’s a shame you were too busy cleaning up all that Valentine business you let get so out of hand.”
“You haven’t had a party in three years? Must be because you have so much trouble filling out the guest list.”
Lorenzo scowled, a retort on the tip of his tongue. Alec, who both of them had pretty much forgotten was there, interrupted.
“You guys must go way back,” he observed. He pulled his lips in, probably trying to stifle his amusement. “Seems like you’re great…” His eyes drifted up in thought as he tried to come up with a suitable word that wasn’t an outright lie, before he admitted defeat and finished, “friends.”
He paused as they each contemplated how inaccurate the statement was. Then, a clear attempt to derail the previous conversation completely, “It was really nice to meet you, Lorenzo.”
Lorenzo beamed, effectively distracted. “Likewise, Mr. Lightwood. I should go greet some of my other friends, but I’ll be in touch.”
He clasped Alec’s arm, raising his drink to gesture towards Magnus’s loft with the other. Alec smiled and nodded.
When he was gone, Alec covered his face as the laugh he’d been holding back escaped him. He turned to lean fully on the railing, facing the city. He looked at Magnus. “What kind of old-fashioned, Victorian pissing contest did I just witness?”
Magnus snorted. He leaned his back against the railing beside him. They smiled at each other in amusement, until he swallowed and looked away.
He focused on the glass wall that muffled the noise but gave a good view of the party going on just behind the door. He could see a group of vampires and warlocks keeled over together in laughter.
“I’m glad you came,” he said quietly.
He could feel Alec watching him, sensed the softness of his expression out of the corner of his eye, but Magnus didn’t turn.
“Of course,” Alec said, just as quietly.
Magnus swallowed hard. He couldn’t see the party anymore, his eyes locked in place to keep them from straying. It was nothing but shapes, suggestions of lights and bodies.
This was dangerous. Magnus had enough experience to sense that. This bubble around them, like they were somehow removed from the world only two feet away from them. This air, charged and warm, like it was a breathing thing with amorphous shape. The way he knew exactly how much he would have to shift for them to touch.
This was dangerous because there, in the real world only an arms-reach away, it didn’t belong.
“He was flirting with you,” Magnus said, because it was a little less dangerous than silence.
Alec shifted only slightly, turning away to look at the building across the street. He held his weight on his arms pressed against the railing, folded over to accommodate his height. “Yeah.” A beat. “I take it you wouldn’t approve?”
It was enough for Magnus to finally turn his head to look at him. It took only a moment for Alec to look back. “You don’t need my approval. But,” he continued gently, “you’d have it. If you wanted that. Explore without fear of judgement. There are worse choices, anyway.”
Alec smiled, but it was feeble. His expression was faraway, like they had somehow shifted so that they were on opposite sides of the bubble, a world between them. He bit his lip, eyes moving away again. The air was different, the moment broken, when he said, “You should go back inside. They must be missing you.”
Magnus looked at his loft. The laughing group was out of sight now, but there were countless more visible in their place. He took a breath, then took his weight off the railing. Resting a hand over Alec’s wrist, it was a few seconds too many before he managed to bid him goodbye. “Thanks for coming.”
Alec’s eyes fell to Magnus’s hand on his wrist, but he let him go without moving to cover it with his own. He just nodded, smiled in a way that didn’t quite reach his eyes.
When Magnus slipped back inside to a welcoming crowd of friendly, drunk faces, he felt out-of-sorts. Like he’d left something unfinished that he wouldn’t be able to come back to for a long while.