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“Where you going, Lightwood?” Jace calls out from across the field.
Alec flips Jace off instead of answering him, knowing that his best friend would just make fun of him for cutting out of rugby practice early to go see a tutor. But their coach catches eyes with Alec and waves him on, yelling at Jace to shut his trap and focus on the ball. Coach thinks this tutoring session is a good idea (he’s a coach who stresses academics as much as the team) and really, Alec needs the help.
His chem class is kicking his ass. And if he doesn’t get his grade up then there’s a chance he could be cut from the rugby team.
He shoulders his duffel bag, crosses the quad and heads for the science building. It’s a glass and metal structure new to the downtown campus, and even as striking as it is, Alec hates the sight of it.
He’s never been particularly good at anything that has to do with advanced math, but he’s been able to hold his own–until now. He can’t get equations to balance, can’t remember what’s an acid and what’s a base, and he’s sure that one of these days he’s going to send the multi-million dollar science building up in flames when he mixes two of the wrong chemicals together. It’s all so frustrating, because rugby he gets. He can pick up pretty much any sport and do well at it–football, soccer, basketball, archery…. But put him in a lab and it’s like his eyes, brain, and hands are no longer able to communicate with each other, let alone get in sync.
He gets directions to the study room from the woman at the front desk and heads in that direction. He’s still sweaty from practice, but not offensively so. If he wasn’t running a bit late he would stop and change out of his practice uniform, knee brace and cleats, but now he’s five minutes late and Alec hates being late.
By the time he makes it to the other side of the building, he’s frazzled. He hates chemistry, hates this building, hates that he has to get a tutor at all. He’s scowling, eyebrows stitched together and shoulders hunched forward…
But his outlook on life brightens the second he sees a man standing at the door to the study room with an iPad in his hands.
The man has long fingers, with nails that look like they’re decorated with squares from the periodic table of elements. He’s wearing black glasses and his hair is swept to the side as if he spent all morning perfecting the I just got out of bedlook. His skin makes Alec think about summertime and heat. He’s wearing a button down shirt of bright colorful swirls, with the top few buttons undone and the sleeves rolled up his forearms–exposing much more muscle than Alec would’ve thought any chemistry expert would have.
The man looks up with just his eyes, and Alec can see the brilliant gold-green color of them over the hipster black frames, framed by a smudge of kohl that is just devastating.
“Are you Alexander Lightwood?”
Alec fidgets with his bag strap, tries to say something that comes out as an incoherent semi-wail of some sort, and he blushes, trying to find some sense of composure. Any would be great right now. “What… Who… Yeah… Uh… Hi. Yes. I’m, um, Alec.”
The man’s lips twitch, as if he’s holding back a smile. “You’re late, Alexander.”
“I’m sorry. I left practice early”–he gestures over his uniform to make his point, and this time the man does smirk, and Alec thinks this just isn’t fair for his tutor to be so beautiful–”and I tried to get here on time. But I didn’t. And I’m sorry. So sorry. Sorry for keeping you waiting, that is. Yeah.”
“It’s fine,” the man says, his gaze raking over Alec. “I’m Magnus Bane, doctoral candidate in theoretical chemistry. I’ll be your tutor.”
Alec opens his mouth to respond and just can’t. Magnus is making all kinds of reactions pop in Alec’s bloodstream. If he thought failing chemistry was dangerous, having Magnus as a tutor is going to be even more so.
“You can teach me anything you want,” he blurts out, needing to fill the charged silence, and immediately regrets the day he was born.
Magnus’ eyebrows lift. “Good to know.” He clicks his fingernails on the iPad screen then gestures for the door. “Let’s get started.”
****
Magnus can tell Alec is flustered. His eyes keep going to Magnus’ lips, his gaze following the movement of Magnus’ hands. Alec is leaned forward in his chair, enraptured, and Magnus is sure it’s not the textbook in front of him that is stealing his attention. Magnus knows attraction when he sees it.
But it’s rare when he feels it from his side as well.
As much as Magnus probably appears cool, unaffected and aloof right now, he is definitely not. He usually doesn’t go for the sporty types–too much testosterone and not enough sense–but Alec doesn’t fit in that category.
From the questions Alec’s already asked it’s apparent he’s strikingly intelligent, drawing parallels between concepts that take some students years to see. It’s simply that his brain isn’t wired for algebraic math. So Magnus switches up his approach, using visual cues more than he usually would, and Alec’s demeanor begins to ease. He even laughs when Magnus makes a particularly awful pun about dropping acid and dropping the base.
No one laughs at Magnus’ brilliant jokes the way they should–especially not Catarina and Ragnor–but Alec looks at Magnus as if he is in awe of Magnus’ comic ability. It’s both terribly sweet and a complete turn-on.
Magnus is not above having his ego thoroughly stroked.
But Alec’s joy is short-lived and before long his eyebrows are stitched together again and his jaw is working as if he’s grinding his teeth, and Magnus settles his hand on top of Alec’s. Alec’s head snaps up.
“Alexander,” Magnus says, “these concepts aren’t easy.”
“They are for you!”
Magnus draws his hand away. He’s left it lingering on Alec’s for too long as it is. “Each of us has skills in which we naturally excel. For me, that’s chemistry. For you, I’m guessing it’s…sports?”
“Rugby,” Alec clarifies, and his face transforms into something Magnus views as effortless joy. It’s exhilarating.
“I’m on the team here,” Alec continues, his cheeks flushing red. “At the University. You know, here.”
“I gathered that. I’m guessing that also means you’re good with your hands?”
Alec glances at his hands as if that answer will be found there. “Um, yeah. Is that important for my class?”
It’s technically important for chemistry, just not the kind Alec is currently trying to master. “Just an observation.” Magnus twists his hand in the air to punctuate his point. “We really should get back to this since we only have a few moments left. But first, do you want to hear more chemistry puns?”
Alec smirks and leans forward. “Uh, maybe?”
“Don’t worry. I’ll only be telling you them…periodically.”
Alec roars with laughter, and it doesn’t matter that the joke isn’t really funny at all, Alec thinks it is, and that alone makes taking this tutoring session for the always-ungrateful Ragnor worth it.
Alec is laughing so hard he’s drawing attention from the other students and tutors in the room and he has to clamp his hand over his mouth. Alec’s biceps bulge with the movement and Magnus has a new appreciation for the particle theories that coalesced in such a perfect way to form this particular human being.
Magnus pushes his glasses up his nose, leveling a heated gaze at Alec. “You’re smile is breathtaking. You should let it out more.”
Yes, that is less than subtle, but Magnus can’t find the energy to care–until Alec’s features drop, and he’s brushing his ink-black hair out of his face.
Flustered Alec reappears almost instantaneously. “Magnus, I… I’m not sure how to say this, but I don’t know if you continuing as my tutor is going to be a good idea.”
“In this capacity? I don’t think so either,” Magnus agrees. “But neither of us has to worry about that. I’m just filling in today for a friend. This will be the one and only session I have with you.”
Alec frowns. “I didn’t know that… I guess I was hoping I’d…” He slumps in his chair. “Okay then.”
Alec looks positively petulant, and Magnus wants to kiss the grumpiness off Alec’s lips. Magnus reaches across the table and shuts the textbook. “This will be our last official session, but….”
Alec quirks an eyebrow. “But?”
“Would you like to go for a drink?”
Alec gives his most unguarded smile yet. “Yeah. That… That sounds good. When?”
“How about right now.”
“Okay.”
“Excellent.” Magnus stands and begins to pack his bag, looking over his shoulder at Alec. “I have so many more jokes I can tell you. I just don’t know if I’ll get a good reaction.”
Alec shoulders his duffel, rolling his eyes to the heavens. “Stop it.”
“Oh, no stopping now. I’m in my element here.”
Alec snorts and shakes his head fondly at Magnus. “Come on. Let’s go get that drink.”