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☆☆☆
“You got new towels.”
It’s hardly a question. Alec already has one wrapped around his bare waist, water dripping from the ends of his still-damp hair and sliding in rivulets down the ranges of his torso.
Magnus brings his hand to his bottom lip and bites indelicately at the padding of his thumb. The truth - that he’d bought a new towel set with this exact purpose in mind - is better left unsaid.
“There was a sale.”
Alec hums, non-committal. “They’re nice.” He acknowledges. “Soft.”
Magnus had run them through the washer and dryer before laying them out, folded but in a casual way, in the bathroom where anyone (Alec) could easily find them, as required.
“You know me,” Magnus says, languidly rolling onto his side, the bed sheets spilling off him like molten gold. “Only the best.”
At this, Alec offers a tiny smile. It’s an accident, subconscious, but Magnus welcomes it like a man dying of thirst who stumbles upon an oasis.
“Thank you for letting me borrow your shower,” Alec shuffles, scanning the hardwood floor in search of his discarded clothing. There had been less concern a few hours ago about where the - then, obstacles - might turn up.
“Your water pressure is a lot better than mine.”
Magnus allows himself a Cheshire smile. “You’re always welcome to my shower,” ‘Alexander’ sticks to the roof of Magnus’ mouth like slick taffy. “Alec.”
“You need to stop flirting with me,” Alec warns, turning around to shrug on his tank top.
Magnus watches the muscles on his back ripple, thinks of scratching his nails down that same skin only a half hour ago. There’s an impressive trail of marks down his spine that should fade by morning, but Magnus can imagine them now; can practically taste the salt of Alec’s sweat against his tongue, even as he swipes it along his own bottom lip.
“There’s no harm in it,” Magnus teases, leaning on his elbow.
Alec looks at him, really looks, and Magnus’ mouth dries up. There it is. The point in their little dance where Magnus oversteps, says one too many wrong things, and Alec shuts off.
Magnus thinks of it as The Wall. Like one has been suddenly erected in between them, the distance now as wide as a canyon, where before they’d been intertwined so close that space hadn’t existed.
“I’m going to be late.” There’s no fanfare to the way Alec drops the towel, hurriedly tugging on a pair of sweatpants and resolutely doing his best to avoid Magnus’ eye.
There’s no illusion of privacy, nothing that hasn’t been shared, or seen before, but Magnus still casts his gaze down. It’s always hard to let Alec see him looking.
“Thanks for …” Alec‘s hand rests against his abdomen. His phone vibrates with a notification, but he doesn’t check it.
“No need.” Magnus waves his hand, indelicate and dismissive. “The benefit was mutual.”
Alec offers an awkward wave, and then he’s gone, slipping out of the bedroom. The front door clicks shut a moment later and Magnus allows himself a modicum of self-pity.
The pillows smell like vanilla and bergamot, heady even away from Alec’s body. Magnus smothers his face further into the covers and tries to pretend that he doesn’t recognise the scent, that Alec had worn something Magnus hadn’t once picked out for him.
Something intangible twists in his gut, wrapping around his organs and twisting until his breaths come uneven and shallow.
Magnus lets the numbness overtake him. He’s never been one for self-pity, but here, in the sanctity of his own space, his own mind, he welcomes it. A temporary balm for an old, aching wound.
Later, he’ll go through the motions. Immerse himself in his detailed self-care routine, washing everything - his day at work, his evening with Alec - out of his hair, scrubbing hard at his body until he feels raw and new. Maybe throw on an episode of Great British Bake-off, just for the distraction.
For now, for a moment, he wallows.
☆☆☆
“I know this is … unconventional, for a first date.”
Alec watches, curiously, as Magnus wraps his hands around a stacked burger. Grease runs down the back of his hands, but he appears nonplussed.
Alec hardly knows Magnus, but this seems so at odds with the elegance and poise he’s seen of the man in their short acquaintance.
“I like unconventional,” Magnus says, his gaze sharp. It feels like flirting.
Alec hasn’t been flirted with much, but it’s hard to deny the evidence before him.
- Magnus was, willingly if not excitedly, at a hole-in-the-wall diner at 3 am.
- Alec had to reschedule the date twice, already, before settling on the aforementioned 3 am diner experience. Magnus was patient and accommodating each time.
- Magnus won’t stop looking at him.
It’s intense. Alec almost feels shy, from all of the attention, but part of him - an increasing part, at that - finds it thrilling.
Magnus is a fascinating person - he exudes charisma and grace, and looks (perhaps even more) beautiful, even as he sits in a plastic-backed diner booth. He’d shucked his jacket off when he’d walked in, and rolled his sleeves up at the mention of burgers. It’s kind of crazy how good he looks.
“I hope you didn’t get too dressed up for this,” Alec says. “I know I didn’t give you a lot of notice. I’m a little surprised you said yes.”
“Third time’s the charm,” Magnus says, with a subtle wink. “That is to say, I did not get quite as dressed up as I may have for a more traditional first date, however, a good impression is still important.”
“You’ve already left an impression,” Alec says, without thinking, before hurriedly adding: “a good one!”
Magnus smiles indulgently. “Well, thank you, Alexander. I’m relieved to hear that.”
They hadn’t exactly met in the most conventional way. Magnus had come into the ER, concerned about an unwavering migraine. Alec had been on the tail-end of a 20-hour shift, desperately seeking the closest vending machine for enough caffeine to keep him going until he could collapse on the nearest semi-comfortable surface.
They’d crossed paths there, at the intersection of overpriced chocolate and watered-down coffee.
“You know, coffee actually dehydrates you. The only way to properly replenish lost fluids is through water. Sports drinks contain good electrolytes, but some have a fair amount of sugar, too.”
“That’s a lot of information to get from a stranger.” Magnus had been rather bemused. “I didn’t even tell you what I was here for. I could have been visiting a friend.”
“Oh, I’m - I’m so sorry, I shouldn’t have - I’m so sorry,” Alec said, mind whirring with the potential complaints that could be - rightfully - levelled against him. Concern gave him no right to make assumptions.
“There’s nothing to apologise for, darling, you’re perfectly correct in your assumption.”
Magnus had filled Alec in on the migraine, and the slight vertigo he’d started feeling since getting out of bed that morning. Despite his desire for sleep, Alec had made sure to get Magnus seen to, and by a doctor he trusted.
“Are you sure that I can’t be looked after by you, Dr Lightwood?”
“That, uh … that would be a bit of a conflict of interest.”
“Oh?”
Magnus ended up beating Alec to the punch, asking him out for coffee, with the promise that he’d drink plenty of water to combat the dehydration.
“Think of it like a thank you, for being so kind in looking out for my health.”
Of course, then Alec found himself asking to reschedule, having been called in to cover someone else’s shift because the hospital - like many - was drastically understaffed.
“You left quite the impression on me, as well,” Magnus admits, placing his burger down and then delicately dabbing his mouth with a napkin. “I’ve never been lectured to about my caffeine intake before.”
“I was advising you on the importance of proper hydration.” Alec corrects. “As a doctor, it’s just best practice to ensure people are informed.”
“Is it best practice to flirt with patients?” Magnus teases, leaning over the table between them.
Alec picks at the plate of shared fries between them and shrugs. “Technically, you were never my patient.”
“So your advice was unsolicited?”
Magnus steals a fry from Alec’s hand and pops it into his mouth. He’s grinning, and it makes his eyes shine like stars.
“I’m just teasing, Alexander.” Magnus’s foot nudges against Alec’s under the table. “I’m quite grateful. After all, if you hadn’t stopped to lecture me-”
Alec rolls his eyes good-naturedly. The rest of Magnus’ sentence dies off, replaced by warm laughter.
“Under alternative circumstances,” Magnus continues, after collecting himself. “We may not have found ourselves here. I think that would be quite a shame.”
Alec was a quiet kid, hanging back in the shadows of his more extroverted siblings; through this, he learnt how to read people, how to observe their habits and behaviours, how to make meaning from it.
He’s not always right, of course, but it’s a fun exercise. Magnus, he thinks, wears his heart not on his sleeve but tucked slightly underneath it. He’s warm and effervescent and since the moment they met, he’s treated Alec like they’re old friends. He has an uncanny way of making Alec feel comfortable and safe.
“So … hypothetically, if I was considering asking you out on a second date…”
Magnus’ foot taps against Alec’s under the table. “Hypothetically?” He grins. “If you’re not quick enough, I might beat you to the punch.”
“Dinner,” Alec suggests, although it doesn’t sound much like a question.
“My second favourite meal of the day.” Magnus leans forward over the table. “Your place or mine?”
Alec is sure that Magnus’ place must be as beautiful as its inhabitant, for the care he takes in his appearance - his tailored clothes, and intricate makeup alone - would surely be reflected in the decoration of his home.
Alec doesn’t often have people over, and his apartment is more perfunctory than illustrated, and yet.
And. Yet.
“My place. If you’d like, that is. I can cook for you.”
Magnus pulls back, feigning a swoon. “A handsome doctor is going to cook for me? My, oh my.”
Alec steals his milkshake in retaliation, and even though he’s not a big mint chocolate fan, it’s worth it for the teasing, fake-annoyed smile that Magnus sends his way. He has a pretty smile.
☆☆☆
“This is a bad idea.”
Alec hums against Magnus’ half-open mouth. “The worst.”
Magnus crowds Alec against his front door, his hands cupping Alec’s face, gentle but persistent; as though Alec might slip out of his grasp. As though Alec has any desire to be anywhere else but right here.
Alec’s back arches, his hand bunching up the fabric of Magnus’ silk shirt. Magnus swipes his tongue against the seam of Alec’s mouth, teasing, before slowly drawing back. Alec makes a pointed sound in the base of his throat. It’s definitely not a whimper.
“We really should,” Magnus starts kissing along the cut of Alec’s jaw, nipping at the soft skin beneath his ear. “Should stop, before-”
“Right,” Alec sighs, tilting his head back to allow Magnus better access. “Definitely.”
Magnus’ hand rests heavily on Alec’s shoulder, thumb pressed firmly against the left wing of his collarbone. He must be able to feel Alec’s rabbiting pulse, blood warming beneath his skin. His touch, where it meets Alec’s bare skin, burns.
Alec wants to let the fire consume him.
“So,” Magnus exhales shakily against the crook of Alec’s neck. “We’re totally doing this?”
Alec grips Magnus’ hips and pulls him closer, sliding one leg between Magnus’ thighs and pressing forward. He tilts his head down, pressing chaste, soft kisses against Magnus’ face, across his cheekbone and ghosting against his parted mouth.
He knows that if they do this, if they cross this line, there’s no going back. It doesn’t matter how clean or mutual their breakup was. You can’t have no-strings-attached sex with your ex-boyfriend. He can’t have sex with Magnus and have it mean nothing.
Alec presses his forehead against Magnus’. Magnus’ hand skates along his jawline, cradling the back of his head. He wonders if it would be better if they were drunk - if they had an excuse they could blame this on. Of course, they couldn’t keep their hands off each other, you know how alcohol works. All that inhibition, lost at the bottom of the bottle.
Or maybe it is better this way. The clearer Alec’s head, the better chance he has of keeping the memory safe.
“We’re totally doing this.”
☆☆☆
The first time they have sex, Alec almost sets Magnus’ apartment on fire.
It’s not his first time in the apartment, but they’d never gone any further than making out on the couch - mostly because Alec kept getting interrupted by calls to the hospital. This time, he’s called in enough favours to hopefully buy him at least a few hours of peace.
Everything’s going smoothly up until that point. Magnus had cooked them dinner, kuay teow and nasi goreng, from his mother’s recipes. Alec had thanked him, at once warmed and humbled that Magnus was sharing something so important with him.
“I’m not sure whether to admit that my mother’s cooking is better,” Magnus says after Alec had helped himself to a second, albeit smaller, serving.
“This is probably the best food I’ve ever tasted.” Alec picks out a rice cake with his chopsticks. “My mom only really cooks around the holidays, and I know just enough to survive on more than takeout.”
“What about your siblings?” Magnus asks, curiously.
Alec scrunches up his nose. “Jace is a health nut who eats like a frat guy. My sister, Isabelle, has all the passion of a Michelin-star chef, but unfortunately none of the skills. She once blew up our oven trying to roast potatoes.”
“Oh, my.” Magnus covers his mouth with his hand, but a bubble of laughter slips out. Alec thinks it’s a beautiful sound.
“Food has just never really been any of our fortes, I don’t think.”
“The rosé pasta you made for us on our second date was lovely.” Magnus gently corrects. “I’ve been meaning to ask if you could make it again, actually.”
“Maybe for our next date,” Alec says. This is their fifth. It’s become an almost silent agreement that there will be more in their future.
Magnus tilts his wine, watching as the red liquid glides around the glass surface. “A little eager, aren’t we? Haven’t even finished this one, and you’re already thinking of the next.”
He’s teasing, Alec can tell, but there’s a hint of nerves to the way he won’t meet Alec’s eye.
“I really like you,” Alec says, honest and straightforward - the only way he knows how to be. “I don’t know if it’s too early to say that, but it’s true. I think that you’re beautiful, and one of the most interesting people I’ve ever met, and when I’m not with you, I’m thinking about you.”
“Alexander,” Magnus says his name so wistfully. “You have the heart of a poet.”
Alec’s cheeks warm. He hides his smile behind his wine glass, letting the sweet tannins coat his tongue. He’s not sure how to respond to that. Nobody has ever said such things about him before. Nobody has ever seen him in the way that Magnus does.
Magnus reaches across the table and takes Alec’s hand. His rings press against the soft webbing of Alec’s fingers. “I really like you too.” He says, softly. “You’re unlike anyone I’ve ever met.”
“And that’s a good thing?”
Magnus lifts Alec’s hand and presses a gentle kiss to the back of it. “Oh, Alexander.”
Later, after their makeout session on the couch has evolved into something a little more desperate, Magnus asks if he’d like to move it to the bedroom. At this, Alec discovers that Magnus has set up candles around his bedroom, across his dresser and vanity table, surrounding the luxurious four-poster bed at the center of his room.
“I realise now this might be a bit much,” Magnus says, pausing in his worship of Alec’s bare chest. His hair tickles the underside of Alec’s chin. “The candles, in particular.”
“I think it’s romantic,” Alec replies, pressing a kiss to Magnus’ temple. “Nobody has ever gone to this kind of trouble for me, before.”
“Not trouble,” Magnus insists, pressing an open-mouth kiss to Alec’s sternum. “Effort. And you deserve that, Alexander, you … you deserve the world.”
Alec lifts Magnus’ head, gentle fingers placed beneath his chin. “I don’t need the world, Magnus. I just need you.”
Knocking over the candles that Magnus so carefully and romantically lights is not one of the smoothest moves Alec has ever made, but nothing actually catches fire, and in some way, it’s almost worth it, if only to hear Magnus’ melodious laughter as it presses against the column of Alec’s neck.
“Maybe next time we could try those plastic, fake tea lights instead,” Magnus suggests, after, his head tucked against Alec’s chest.
Alec soothes his hand over Magnus’ side. He’s found himself unable to stop touching Magnus, in some small way or another. “I like that. The candles. And the idea of a next time.”
“Oh, Alec.” Magnus lifts his head, meeting Alec’s eye with a heated gaze. “There’s going to be many a next time.”
☆☆☆
“You look like shit.”
“I always knew you were sweet on me, Ragnor, dear.”
Magnus shrugs off his coat and hangs it up on Ragnor’s hat stand because he’s feeling petty today.
“You’re also late.” Ragnor points out. Magnus fiddles with the laces of his boots and refuses to meet his no-doubt stern gaze. “I didn’t think you were in court today.”
“I wasn’t.” Magnus acknowledges. “I had a meeting that ran a little long, is all. I didn’t bother messaging you because I figured by the time you got it, I’d have been on my way anyhow.”
Ragnor offers a non-committal hum in response. Magnus debates keeping his scarf on, but eventually decides it would be more suspicious, given the June sun streaming through the open windows of Ragnor’s apartment.
Maybe Ragnor won’t notice. Maybe, even if he does, he won’t mention it.
“Must have been a good meeting, if the hickey on your neck is anything to go by.”
Maybe pigs will learn to fly.
“Would you believe me if I said that I fell?”
Ragnor’s tone drips with disbelief. “On your neck?”
Magnus shrugs, keeping his back to Ragnor. “Stranger things have happened.”
“As have more believable ones.” Ragnor argues back.
“Are you sure that academia is the right career path? You have the offence tactics of an attorney.”
Magnus crosses the room, slumping onto the couch across from Ragnor’s favourite, ornate armchair. It had been an inheritance gift from an old, distant relative - the upholstery was falling apart before it came to Ragnor’s possession, but you’d never be able to tell that now.
“We can keep playing this charade if you’d like.” Ragnor offers, calmly. “I don’t really have other plans.”
“I’m not sure I have the energy today,” Magnus answers, truthfully. “Though I appreciate the offer.”
Magnus settles into the seat, hands folded across his abdomen. He closes his eyes and lets out a long, world-weary sigh.
“So.” Ragnor clears his throat. “How is Alec?”
Magnus slides further down his seat. “You know, I much prefer the game where we both pretend that you don’t know I’ve been hooking up with Alec. It’s so much better for my soul.”
“Is this pseudo-friends-with-benefits relationship you have with your ex good for your soul?”
Magnus’ hand curls into a fist and presses against his abdomen. There’s a gnawing hole inside of him, persistent and hungry; it’s satiated, during those fleeting moments he spends with Alec, but its return is inevitable.
Right now, he feels as though the airlock inside of him has broken, and any breath he dares to take too deeply might be his undoing.
“It’s good stress relief. What does my soul matter?”
He’s being melodramatic, and he knows it, but he doesn’t care. Where else can he metaphorically stomp his feet if not in front of his oldest friend? God knows that Ragnor has put up with far worse.
“You’re no longer a child, Magnus.” The words should sound chastising, but Ragnor’s delivery is flat, and calm. Factual. “The decisions you make are yours to own, but I won’t pretend that I agree with them.”
Magnus slowly opens his eyes. There’s kindness in Ragnor’s gaze, if he looks for it, beneath the poised nonchalance.
“Alec is well.” The callback is a little petulant, but Magnus’ mind is busy oscillating between spite and heartache. “It’s kind of you to ask after him.”
“He’s a good man.” Ragnor shrugs. “You are my friend first, but I’ve always liked him. I thought he was good for you.”
“He...” Magnus clears his throat. “He was.”
Ragnor leans forward, hands peaked beneath his chin. “Not anymore?”
“No, no - Alec’s wonderful, of course, he’d never - he’s great.” Magnus sighs. Allowing vulnerability has never been his strongest suit, but it feels cruel to remain this hard. Words stick to the roof of his mouth, caught between his teeth.
Ragnor’s patience may be endless, but Magnus’ is not.
“Sometimes I think Alec is too good for me,” Magnus admits, quietly. “The sex is great, but is it really worth holding Alec back? I don’t want to lose him, it would be like breaking up all over again, but without me in the picture … he could have a real relationship.”
“You can’t take the blame alone for this, Magnus.” Ragnor placates. “Alec is - I’m sure, a very willing - participant, just as you are.”
Ragnor shuffles to the edge of his seat, reaching out to take Magnus’ hands in his own. His hands are cold, as usual. It’s an odd comfort. “I don’t mean to upset you, Magnus. I don’t know what it’s like to be in your relationship, but from the perspective of your friend - I’m concerned you’re both just hurting each other.”
A sob breaks in the back of Magnus’ throat. He tries to swallow it down. “I don’t want to hurt him, I never want to hurt him.”
“I know,” Ragnor says, soothingly. “I’m sure Alec doesn’t want to hurt you either.”
Magnus hangs his head. Ragnor squeezes their joined hands. They sit there, in companionable silence, for long enough that the sunlight that had been streaming into Ragnor’s apartment turns a warm and mellow orange.
“I need to end this, don’t I?”
“That’s not a decision that anyone but you can make.”
As always, Ragnor is right, though. If Magnus and Alec keep going like this, they’re only going to keep hurting each other; and while Magnus would not hesitate to endure any level of pain, if it meant keeping Alec in his life, he can’t stand causing the same harm to Alec.
☆☆☆
“I’m sorry, Alexander, but I’ll have to rain check tonight. Raphael stumbled upon some hidden evidence that could be really key to this case, and we both agreed it would be better to hunker down and push forward. I promise I’ll make it up to you.”
“It’s fine, Magnus - I know what it’s like when work needs to come first. I’ll see you when I can see you.”
Magnus thanks the cab driver, offering a generous tip for the late hour. He drags his feet to his apartment, debating for a second if it would be quicker to take the stairs, before deciding to take a chance on the notoriously lagging elevator.
It takes most of what energy he has left to keep from falling asleep inside the elevator. He trudges down the hall to his apartment, scratching the edges of his lock as he shoved the key in.
It’s probably the fatigue that takes him so long to notice the lump of blankets on his couch.
“Alexander?”
Magnus kneels down next to the couch. He’s never known Alec to be a heavy sleeper - between being on call, sleeping in break rooms and growing up with three siblings, Alec himself has claimed that a light breeze could wake him up.
“Alexander?”
Magnus gently reaches for Alec’s shoulder. Alec rouses slowly from his sleep, blinking languidly at Magnus, his gaze a little bleary.
“Oh,” Alec’s slow blinks remind Magnus of a cat. Adorable. “Magnus. You’re home.”
“I am,” Magnus smiles around his words. “Pleasantly, you’re here too.”
Alec scrubs at his face, the blankets falling down to his waist. He’s wearing one of Magnus’ old college shirts - Magnus had long attributed its disappearance to a sacrifice of his washing machine.
“I wanted to surprise you. I didn’t mean to fall asleep, I’m sorry.”
Magnus’ heart swells behind his ribs and it aches in the most welcome way. “Oh, Alexander. Please don’t apologise, this is a wonderful surprise, I - you’re so sweet and thoughtful.”
“I missed you,” Alec says, like it’s that simple, like it’s that easy. “I know you were busy with your case, and I didn’t want to interrupt you - I made dinner, it’s nothing special, really, just a basic stir fry; it’s covered in the fridge, so you can have it whenever, I mean, it’s pretty good reheated.”
“Alexander.” It comes out more like sob. Magnus drops his head, pressing it against Alec’s abdomen. He can feel the way Alec’s chest rises and shakes when he laughs, the sound light and airy above his head.
Alec runs his hand slowly through Magnus’ hair. Magnus can feel the shape of his smile when he presses a kiss to Magnus’ temple. Magnus wants to stay here forever.
“Is there enough for two?” Magnus asks, twisting his head enough for Alec to be able to hear him. “Actually, a better question would be if you’ve even eaten, but that doesn’t sound quite as romantic.”
“I fell asleep while I was waiting for you.”
Magnus groans and collapses against the couch. “Stop, please. It’s too much. My weak heart can only take so much. You can’t be this attractive, and also a good boyfriend, that’s illegal.”
“As a lawyer, what do you recommend for my defense?”
Magnus hums. “Dinner, preferably on the couch, with your boyfriend. Maybe some apology kisses - a hundred should be enough to prove your innocence.”
Alec drops a kiss on the top of Magnus’ head. “Well, if that’s what it’s going to take…”
Magnus makes no effort to move, and Alec seems content to keep him there. Dinner can wait.
☆☆☆
Alec tugs at his leather jacket. He can’t seem to find a way to get it to sit comfortably, the fabric heavy on his shoulders. He wouldn’t even bother with it, were it not for the uncharacteristically cold August morning breeze.
Plus, the fact that he hasn’t left himself with much else; it’s a bit hard to have options when you’re traipsing home from a spontaneous night at your ex-boyfriend’s apartment.
It’s not exactly the best decision he’s ever made, but then, there hasn’t been a lot of those lately.
Alec makes it back to his apartment and is only a little surprised to find the front door unlocked. A familiar pair of boots is resting on the inside of the entryway; Alec allows himself a second to debate sneaking back out of his own apartment.
“Alec?”
Alec kicks his shoes off and hangs his leather jacket up on the back of his door. “Yeah.”
Isabelle’s sitting on his couch when he walks in, wrapped in a blanket she’d knitted for him once, with a bowl of cereal resting precariously on her knee. “Good morning.” She says, with a Cheshire smile.
“I don’t think this counts under the ‘in case of emergencies’ for which I gave you a spare key.” Alec says, followed by: “and good morning.”
“I was out of cereal,” Isabelle says, by way of explanation. “And milk.”
“I would tell you to make yourself at home, but it seems you already have,” Alec says, with no heat to his tone. He makes his way to the couch and sinks down next to Isabelle, exhaustion wrapping itself around his bones.
“Alright, come on.” Isabelle moves her cereal bowl to the coffee table and pats her lap. “I know you won’t go to bed because I’m here, even if I insist that I’m fine being left to my own devices, so you can nap here, instead.”
“I don’t need to nap, I’m fine.” Alec insists, even as he shuffles to lay his head on Isabelle’s legs. They’d done the reverse a lot, as kids, under makeshift pillow forts.
Isabelle runs her hands through Alec’s hair, soothing against his scalp. It’s been a week, longer than he realised. Truthfully, it’s probably been more of a long month, but he doesn’t have the mental energy to think that far.
It’s difficult to tell how long they sit like that. Between the comforting drag of Isabelle’s hand through his hair, and the nondescript morning news show on the TV, Alec finds himself lulled into a dazed, half-asleep state. It’s probably the most relaxed he’s felt in weeks.
“You don’t have to reply, I’m not starting a deep conversation while you’re barely clinging onto consciousness,” Isabelle says quietly. “I just wanted to say … I’m really proud of you.”
“Huh?” Alec mumbles, still not opening his eyes.
“I don’t know the details of what went down with you and Magnus, and I don’t expect to - that’s your business. I’ve been worried about you, though - you always keep your feelings so close to your chest, but I saw the toll the breakup took on you.”
Alec’s heart rockets in his chest. It’s a wonder if Isabelle doesn’t notice.
“I’m just. I’m really proud of you, for getting back out there. I know that it’s not easy, but it’s good for you to put yourself first, and if it helps you get some of that lightness in your step back … I’m all in support.”
Isabelle bends down, the ends of her hair tickling Alec’s ear as she presses a kiss to his temple. Alec squeezes his eyes shut, a few stray tears slipping out of the corners.
He has to talk to Magnus. They have to end this.
☆☆☆
Alec had always thought the honeymoon phase was a little overrated. Isabelle had often referred to it when she was younger, as the reason why her fleeting relationships never quite worked out.
“The honeymoon phase is over,” she’d announce, collecting things that had belonged to her newfound ex. Isabelle had always believed in clean breakups, and it worked for her - Alec is pretty sure that she’s still in contact with most of her exes.
The idea of a phase in one’s relationship, so rose-coloured that it’s doomed to end and lead to an inevitable breakup was discouraging, to say the least. He couldn’t imagine how a relationship could ever be expected to last. Why bother even taking the chance in the first place, if you only expected it to end in flames?
What he didn’t realise was that the end wasn’t the point.
“Valentine’s Day is overrated anyway.” Magnus’ voice crackles over the phone line. Alec balances the phone against his shoulder, mindful as he pours coconut milk into the inner pot of his rice cooker.
“Exactly,” Alec replies, carefully adding jasmine rice to the pot. “We can have our own version another day, that’s just special to us.”
Magnus is quiet on the other end of the line. Alec glances at the clock on the wall. Trying to get this ayam betutu finished before his shift is perhaps not the wisest decision he could have made, but he doesn’t want to waste the effort he’s already put in. Even if they can’t spend the night together, Alec still wants to surprise Magnus.
Besides, he’d promised Magnus’ mother a photo of the finished product, and he doesn’t want to let her down, not after she’d been so generous in helping him with the recipe.
“I’m sorry, Alexander.”
“What - Magnus, you have nothing to be sorry for.” Alec stirs the rice in the coconut milk, adding in a couple of bay leaves. “It’s not your fault. The hospital is short-staffed - I mean, it always is, but Valentine’s Day especially.”
“I just hate that we have to keep rain check-ing and postponing our dates.” Magnus’ sigh is heavy. Alec feels it echoing in his own mind. “I feel like I haven’t seen you in a month.”
His words rock Alec. He stands at his counter, clutching a wooden spoon. He needs to turn the rice cooker on. He needs to check the oven, to make sure that the chicken hasn’t dried out. He needs to start getting ready for work.
He hasn’t seen Magnus in a month.
“Magnus, it-” Alec doesn’t know how to tell him. He doesn’t know what to say - or if there even is anything to say.
Alec is a lot closer to thirty than childhood, but he’s never wanted so badly to be a kid again, to huddle under the pillow fort he’d made with his sister and forget that he has any responsibilities or problems.
“I miss you,” Magnus says, in a small voice. “I wish this was easier.”
“Me, too,” Alec replies.
The kitchen timer rings out in his quiet apartment, echoing in his mind. His head hurts. His heart, too.
☆☆☆
Magnus thinks he could close his eyes and still be able to see Alec’s text, burnt against the backdrop of his retinas.
Are you free tonight? I think we need to talk, about us.
There’d been more, details about when Alec gets off work and a suggestion they order in some pizza, but it’s inconsequential in comparison to the central topic at hand.
Alec is going to break up with him, and this time, there won’t be any chance to tease and flirt his way back into some semblance of a relationship; there won’t be any more delaying the inevitable.
It’s a little unfair. Cruel, really. For Alec to look this beautiful, right as he’s preparing to break Magnus’ heart.
The worst part is that he hasn’t even gotten dressed up. Alec’s style is simple, but defined, comfortable and neat but he’d always listened to Magnus talk about fashion trends and stylings and he understands the impact of clothes in creating or leaving an impression.
The first time Magnus had ever seen Alec in a suit was when Alec had surprised Magnus with dinner reservations for their one-month anniversary. It was tailored, a deep blue that softened Alec’s eyes and that he kept insisting was leftover from a distant relative’s wedding.
Magnus had been reverent in peeling away the layers of the suit, despite Alec’s impatience. For him, it was about more than just the end result - it was about appreciating the effort Alec had put into getting dressed up, respecting the suit itself.
In this moment, Magnus almost wishes Alec had put on the suit, instead.
“That’s my shirt,” Magnus says after Alec opens the door.
“Hello, to you too,” Alec says, with the ghost of a smile.
“Hi.” Magnus blinks. “That’s my shirt.”
Alec glances down, tugging at the hem of Magnus’ old college shirt. “Huh. I’m sorry, did you want it back? I can change, it’ll only take a second-”
“No,” The word sticks in Magnus’ throat. He swallows and tries again: “No, it’s - you should keep it. It’s always looked better on you.”
“I’m not sure that’s true, but I appreciate it.” Alec takes a step back, pulling the door open with him. “Please, come in. I was just about to order some pizza. Greek lamb, right?”
Magnus’ heart twists in his chest. “You remembered.”
Alec shrugs. “Of course I remembered.”
Magnus follows Alec into the apartment. He feels like he’s got blocks of cement tied to his feet. He shouldn’t have come. He should have lied and said he wasn’t free. Maybe it would be worse, to delay the inevitable, but at least he wouldn’t have to deal with it right now. He’d have bought himself a little time, at least.
Alec’s apartment looks exactly the same. Magnus hadn’t exactly expected it to look much different than the last time he’d been here, only a few weeks ago, but there is something about the familiarity that makes his chest pang.
He’s going to miss Alec’s mismatched lounge furniture, the monochromatic blanket that Isabelle had knitted for Alec, that Magnus loved stealing because it always lead to Alec cuddling up to his side. All the little intricacies of Alec’s life, the tiny reflections of his personality sprinkled across his space - he’s going to have to say goodbye to all of this, too.
“Can I get you a drink? Water, or tea? Or, I think I might have some Merlot somewhere that Mom gave me…”
“Alec.” Magnus steels himself with a deep breath. “I appreciate your hospitality, but I think it might be better if we just get this over and done with.”
“Get … okay.” Alec frowns, staring at Magnus, unblinking. “Okay. Let’s … we should sit, then.”
Magnus glances at the couch, small enough to be a loveseat, and shakes his head. “If it’s alright, I think I’ll stand.”
“Of course, whatever you’re most comfortable with.” Alec shoves his hands in his pockets and then pulls them back out. It’s been so long since he was nervous around Magnus - even when they were trying to navigate the benefits part of their adjusted relationship, he’d been a little awkward, understandably, but not like this.
Maybe it’s better if Magnus rips the band-aid off, first. It’s going to hurt, either way.
“This isn’t working.” He says, delivered in a thin, valiant attempt at being firm, right as Alec says: “I want to try again.”
Magnus’ world comes screeching to a stop, like a train derailing from its tracks. Alec stares wide-eyed at him.
“You-” Magnus clears his throat. There’s no way he heard Alec right. “Sorry, I must have misheard, it really sounded like you said that you wanted to try again.”
“I did.” Alec nods, defiant. His face is pink and flushed, but there’s determination in his eyes. “I do. I know that we had good reasons for breaking up, and I don’t have any illusions that it would be easy - we probably set ourselves back a little with the whole casually hooking up thing, but I think it’s worth a shot. I think we’re worth it.”
It seems for a second like Alec might reach out to Magnus, before folding his arms across his chest. “If you want to, that is. Only if you want to.”
“I thought you wanted to break up,” Magnus admits. An awkward huff of laughter slips out. “I was just thinking that I should have pretended to have a case, so you couldn’t, yet.”
“Do you want to?” Alec asks.
“Truthfully, I never wanted to break up in the first place.” Magnus’ heart lodges somewhere in his throat. The back of his neck pricks and tingles, somewhere between anxiety and anticipation. “I know that things weren’t going to work out for us, if we kept going the way we were, but … I hated every second of it.”
“I thought it was for the best.” Alec admits. His eyes are shining with unshed tears. “I never wanted to make you feel like you had to choose between me and your career.”
Magnus wants to cross the distance between them so badly he feels the ache of holding himself back in his bones. “If it came down to it, I’d chose you. No contest.”
Alec looks to the ceiling and blinks quickly. “I know. But I can’t ask that of you.”
“Maybe it doesn’t have to come down to that.” Magnus takes a step. Alec is still too far away, but he needs to get this out, first. “I convinced myself that the sex was enough, that being with you in any way was better than not at all, but I’ve never missed you as much as I did each time I watched you leave.”
“It took everything in me not to stay.” Alec clutches at the hem of his shirt. The pull of the fabric reveals a fading mark beneath his collarbone. Magnus feels like he’s going to combust out of his skin. “There were even a couple of times I turned around.”
If breaking up caused a fracture to run through Magnus’ heart, then this is where he starts to heal it.
“I want to try again,” Magnus says. “I want to give us another shot. I don’t want to make the same mistakes again, I don’t - I don’t want to lose you.”
“You won’t.” Alec is the one who takes the first step, who crosses the distance between them. His hands are warm as they wrap around Magnus’ own. “I’m not going anywhere, Magnus. I never have. I’ve always been right here.”
Magnus closes his eyes and lets his head fall against Alec’s shoulder. Alec presses a kiss to Magnus’ temple. He smells of vanilla and bergamot. Magnus has never welcomed the scent more.
“I’ve never been good at saying goodbye to you,” Alec says, gentle and soft-spoken. “I hated only getting half of you, only giving you half of me.”
“Breaking up was dumb,” Magnus says, tilting his head to be heard. His mouth brushes against Alec’s collarbone. “Let’s not do it again. Obviously, we shouldn’t just blindly jump back into it, but I think we should try. I want to try,”
“Me, too,” Alec says. He wraps his arms around Magnus and holds him close. Magnus clutches at Alec’s back, grasping at the fabric of his shirt.
“I love you.” Alec says. He presses the words against Magnus’ cheek, puncturing each word with a small kiss.
“I love you, too,” Magnus says. His whole body thrums with it. He thinks, if he was x-rayed in this moment, the scans would show that he’s made of nothing but the love he’s been trying to hold in.
He doesn’t have to hold back anymore.