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The ballroom is crowded with the Galaxy's richest and most important beings. There are small groups chatting at the peripheries while the central part is filled with dancing couples. Tall glasses of champagne and plates filled with canapés are being carried by robots with garish green and orange uniforms, the colours of the Emperor.
“It’s the colours,” Magnus whispers in Alec’s ear. “Gives one an immediate distrust of the man.”
Alec tries to keep a straight face. Magnus has been regaling him with snide comments and petty remarks since they entered the building and it’s the only thing that is keeping Alec sane. He hates these functions, avoids them like the smell of the zaniotic muskrat after mating. He can’t believe that his name came up on the NY Institute’s random name generator when this mission was proposed.
“I’m not going. I hate those things. They require a partner, who I don’t have, and a suit. Mine got covered in graborit gunk and had to be thrown out. And I’m the Commander, so I get a veto.”
Izzy and Jace look at him scathingly. It takes him three seconds to break.
“Fuck!”
“We can find you a new suit,” Izzy says firmly.
“And I’m sure Magnus would go with you. That guy is smitten,” Jace smirks.
Alec glares at him.
“Oh yes!” Izzy exclaims, clapping her hands.
“I am not asking Magnus to enter into a fake relationship with me so that we can go undercover at the Emperor’s ball!” Alec replies sternly.
Izzy and Jace look at him, eyebrows raised. It takes him five seconds to break.
“Fuck!”
“Well, you could do that too,” Jace smirks.
Alec glares at him. Jace laughs and Izzy rolls her eyes. Boys!
Alec is finding it dangerously easy to pretend to be Magnus’s husband. They hold hands as they mingle, Magnus looks at him adoringly, making Alec’s stomach feel like an exploding giant star, and he uses terms of endearment that send shivers up Alec’s spine.
“Gideon, sweetheart, would you grab me a glass next time one comes along? I really must use the bathroom.”
“Dearest husband of mine, remind me to teach you the tango when we get home. It’s such a sexy dance.”
“I don’t know how anyone can think they look good in something like that! Don't you agree, babe?”
To Magnus’s effervescent delight, and Alec’s more subdued one, the best way of gathering intel is to make out close to a group of chatting prominents. No one seems to pay them much notice, and they can listen in while having a bit of fun. It becomes slightly inconvenient when they get lost in each other and keep missing words or whole sentences. But Magnus has reassured Alec that he has a recording device on him that is magically enhanced but also magically hidden from detection. It certainly passed through all the devices at the entrance that Alec had watched pick up the most delicate and often interestingly disguised equipment.
The night flies by and Alec almost forgets about their mission, lost in Magnus’s presence, a feeling of magical intimacy holding him in its spell. If it weren’t for the recording device, they would probably return with very little intel. Alec wishes that he could feel more alarmed by that thought than he is. But the fact of the matter is that this fake relationship feels far too real and Alec is falling far too fast for the warlock who is spending most of the evening in his arms.
“You’re looking a little solemn, darling. Everything okay?” Magnus asks as they collect their coats from the vestibule.
Alec forces a smile but it doesn’t reach his eyes. “Yes. It’s great. I’m great.”
Magnus looks at him quizzically but doesn’t say anything more. They get through security without a hitch and once outside, they wait for their aircab. It will take them to their hotel, their fake hotel, from where they will portal back to the NY Institute.
Magnus watches Alec for a moment, then pulls him closer, holding his face in his hands. “Thank you for a surprisingly pleasant evening in the enemy camp,” he murmurs softly, then leans in to kiss Alec with such gentleness it makes Alec's heart ache.
Before Alec can reply, the aircab arrives. It’s not safe to talk inside about anything of any significance. Magnus holds forth about the amazing quality of the champagne and the gorgeous decor - both safe lies for listening devices - while Alec nods, drinking in this sight of Magnus as if it were the last time they’ll ever see each other.
They step out of the cab, walk into the hotel and back out again a few minutes later. A short walk away they find a dark alley where Magnus makes a portal.
“We need to talk,” he says as they step out the other side.
Alec opens his mouth to reply but is interrupted by a fire message that lands in Magnus’s hands. Magnus sighs, opening it up and quickly reading it.
“Damn,” he says, exasperated. “Gotta go. Downworlder business.”
He takes the listening device out of an inner pocket. “I hope there’s something useful on there,” he says, handing it to Alec. He looks at him for a moment. “We still need to talk. Don't be a stranger.”
Alec huffs a laugh. “A little hard after this evening.”
Magnus winks at him. “Nice to know I have that effect on you!” he smirks.
Alec’s eyes widen, then he burst out laughing. “You are truly incorrigible.”
Magnus grins. “Yet you still fake married me!”
Alec groans. “Come here,” he beckons, reaching for Magnus, who moves forwards very willingly. Their kiss is full of unspoken promises, heated but gentle, leaving them both wanting more, even as they pull apart needing to catch their breaths.
Another fire message arrives.
“Bloody impatient vampires,” Magnus complains, but pulls further away. “I really must go before a war breaks out. Call me,” he finishes as he creates a portal.
Alec nods, words escaping him right now. He watches Magnus blow him a kiss before he disappears. Well, damn. The next move is on him. How soon should he wait before making that call?