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Alec Lightwood had never been vain. In fact, he didn't think about his looks much at all, beyond taming his insane hair and shaving. Jace and Izzy were the ones in their family concerned with looks and fashion. As long as his clothes were comfortable, allowed for ease of movement in battle, and didn't smell, he was pretty much good to go.
He definitely had never given any thought to aging. After all, he was only 20, and Shadowhunters rarely lived to be very old anyway. His parents were only in their 40's, and they were practically ancient. But ever since the sickening encounter with Camille, Magnus's evil ex, at the warlock's lair, he hadn't been able to stop watching his own face, his hairline. Was that a wrinkle? Was his hair getting thin?
"I'd say he's about 20 years from male pattern baldness."
Magnus insisted that he didn't care about Camille's opinion, that no one could see the future, that Alec shouldn't worry... but they were all lies. They weren't malicious untruths, and Alec wasn't even sure Magnus meant them to be lies, but they were. How could the warlock not care about a vampire he spent decades with, however evil she was? And no matter how much Magnus said he couldn't see the future, Alec was getting older, would keep getting older, and someday he would die. And that was barring violence that could happen at any moment.
It shouldn't bother Alec so much. He was always a "live strictly in the moment" person. There was plenty in his life to stress out over right this second, why worry about a distant future that may not even happen?
Because he had something to stick around for now. He had things he wanted, outside of responsibility and violence. He never thought about having a family beyond the one he was born into, not really. Now suddenly he sometimes thought, what if he and Magnus could get married? What if they could adopt kids? What if they had a house in the suburbs, a dog, one of those mundane mini-van things...
They were stupid dreams, but he still had them, and the newborn desire was there, growing every day. Every time he and Magnus made love, or he looked into those gentle eyes. Those desires made him stare at his own face, at his hair, in the mirror. What did Magnus see when he looked at Alec? He did extra crunches and added that move from all the mundane exercise videos where you purposefully crunch your core when you're doing other activities. He squeezed his buns together when he was just standing around. No new aches, pains, or stiffness, outside of injuries, so far. Skin still tight, muscles still hard, hair still thick. Nothing to worry about quite yet.
But how long could that possibly last?
"Stop thinking about Camille. I don't even think of that psychotic bitch as much as you do," Magnus said, sneaking up behind him and peaking at Alec in the mirror over Alec's shoulder.
He pretended to simply be taming his eyebrows, which got as completely out of control as his hair if he wasn't careful. "I'm not. Why would I think about a vampire?"
Magnus's skeptical look reflected clearly beside his own face.
"I'm not!" Alec insisted.
"Please," Magnus scoffed, checking his hair and then patting it as if in praise. Alec's boyfriend did have excellent hair, if maybe a little over-the-top sometimes. Right now the tips were a glimmering rainbow, with a dashing curl dangling free against his forehead. "Beyond killing things with pointy objects, and the vast majority of bedroom activities, I would say your specialty is over-thinking. It's been months, and we've talked about this topic until I'm as blue as Catarina. You could be a hundred and fifty years old, a wrinkled, bent-over, half-paralyzed dementia patient with no teeth who called me Martha, and I will still love you with all of my heart."
Now it was Alec's turn to shoot him a look of disbelief.
"I will! How shallow do you think I am, Alexander? Yes, it's true, I appreciate your unique masculine beauty... but beauty is easy to find. It's what lies within that lasts. That's why we're standing here now, and why I didn't simply seduce you and dismiss you when we first met."
Alec scowled. "That's... why... you know what? Never mind. The fact is, I'm mortal. It's easy for you to say you won't care when I get old. But you'll still be," he gestured over Magnus' five feet, eleven inches of natural charisma and sex appeal, wrapped in its characteristic decorations of glitter, silk, and velvet. "You. You'll look like you're wheeling your old white tattooed uncle around or something."
"Have you forgotten that, while you are the great love of my life, that there have been a few mortals before you? That I spent the remainder of their lives with them? Besides, I have no problem glamouring myself to age alongside you, Alexander. It will be my honor. You don't have to worry."
"So we'll look right together in other people's eyes, but still...I'll actually get old, and you'll still be exactly the way you are now. You won't feel all the aches and pains. You'll never have to face your death."
Magnus narrowed his deep mahogany eyes. "No...I'll be staring down the barrel of yours. And the reality that once you are gone, I have an eternity to face alone, with only your memory to keep me company. That's all."
"Come on, that's a little dramatic, Magnus." He might as well have accused Magnus of being too Magnus, frankly. "You'll fall in love again. You have before."
"Really? Do you think so?" Magnus's body had gone so rigid, he was shaking. "I had given up on love over a hundred years ago. Giving my heart away ultimately never brought me anything but pain, so I thought the best thing was never to do so again. I was already resigned to spending forever in solitude. You were a complete surprise to me."
"You could very well be surprised again."
He snorted. "I won't hold my breath. "
"Not that it would kill you."
Magnus spun on him, flashpoint rage marking his usually humor-touched features. "That is not funny. I hate it when you get like this. As if a few hundred years between us is..."
"Is a few hundred years?" Alec would never understand how centuries could mean nothing to Magnus. He found himself blushing sometimes when he thought about it.
Magnus had known generations of Lightwoods --and not liked them very much, apparently. Magnus had been with hundreds--maybe thousands--of lovers, but he insisted Alec was the best? Magnus had done everything, been everywhere, experienced all there was to experience through the centuries. He had met some of the greatest figures, been part of the most important events, in history. But staying home to eat popcorn and cuddle on the couch with a 20 year old virgin Shadowhunter was the most incredible time he could imagine? Please.
"Stop. I hate this conversation. You're not even 21 yet. It's ridiculous to think about any of this now." Magnus pushed past him and went to the great room, where he immediately began to pace. Alec followed, not willing to let this go for a change. There was a war coming. It was time they did face his mortality, and what it might mean for Magnus.
"I could die tomorrow."
"Shut your mouth." Angry sparks flew from Magnus's fingertips, lighting the floor at his feet as if he was standing in a ring of fire. At rare moments like this, when Magnus lost his temper, he looked much taller, much bigger, and a whole lot more intimidating. It was these times Alec was reminded that Magnus wasn't just his sweet, loving, generous boyfriend--he was the High Warlock of Brooklyn. Possibly of the world. "Never say that to me again."
Alec tamped down the irrational fear that threatened to cow him--however scary Magnus might be, Alec knew to his very cells that he would never hurt him. Not physically, anyway. Alec took a step forward, and lay his palms on Magnus's broad shoulders, letting the electric after-current of the warlock's magick pass through him without flinching. He looked deeply into the stunning amber-green cat eyes, and thought he could see all the way through to the soul that was the mate of his own.
He always thought Izzy's blabbing about "soulmates" was stupid, romance novel crap, before he met Magnus. Now, he couldn't imagine a better word to describe him.
"It's true, Magnus, and you know it. I'm not trying to hurt you. It's just the truth. We can't live in denial all the time. Not with things the way they are right now."
Magnus angrily broke his embrace and turned his back, stomping away toward the bar cart on the other side of the room. He violently poured himself a drink that was a bizarre greenish-purple, gulped it down, and immediately made another. He gulped that one down too, and slammed the glass on the cart before searing Alec with his furious gaze.
"You should go home," he snapped. "Now. I don't want to talk to you anymore tonight."
"Magnus," Alec couldn't hide the hurt that edged his voice. He knew he was pushing a topic Magnus hated, but he was only doing it with the best of intentions. He hadn't expected this response. Arguing, he could handle. Being frozen out was something new between them. "I didn't mean--"
The warlock cut him off with a swipe of his hand, angry smoke trailing in its wake. "Enough!"
He turned and marched off into his bedroom, slamming the door behind him.
Alec stood, staring after him for a long time. He had never been hit with anything like this feeling before--his chest squeezed so tightly that he couldn't breathe right, his heart crushed in Magnus's magickal fist. He thought he knew what heartbreak and hurt were, but nothing had felt quite this bad before.
Of course, he'd never really been in love before either, so that shouldn't be a surprise. But now he'd been thrown out, dismissed, and while he should be moving, his feet were anchored to the floor as if glued there.
"Why aren't you gone?" came Magnus's voice from the other room a few moments later. His warlock didn't need to be standing in the same space as Alec to know exactly what he was doing. But then...Magnus poked his head around the corner. He'd apparently magicked his makeup off, and now looked so young and innocent with his fresh, bare skin, it broke Alec's heart all over again. "Did I not say it out loud? Leave. Now."
Maybe he should have run. At least turned around and left. His feet just wouldn't let him. He supposed, when he thought about it later, that his body knew things that his mind didn't quite want to accept.
Magnus didn't really want Alec to leave. He didn't want them to break up, or anything even close. Everything about him but his words said that Magnus just couldn't handle thinking about Alec dying. Alec wasn't quite sure why the idea took him by surprise--he hadn't known anyone in his life quite as sensitive and empathetic as Magnus Bane--but for some reason, he just assumed that as an immortal, the warlock simply got used to people he cared about passing away.
He didn't realize how wrong he was until he watched Magnus's jaw bulge as he clenched his teeth, and a single teardrop glistening on his cheek. The warlock walked over to the bar once more and poured yet another drink, never taking his eyes off of Alec.
"No," Alec said.
Magnus's head shot up. His glamoured brown eyes were back, but now they were rimmed with red, and his tawny skin was blanched pale and drawn with tension.
"I beg your pardon?" he said in that way that someone who didn't know him would think was mild and calm, but Alec knew often precipitated a profound crack in his usually unflappable manner. Magnus stepped away from the cart and chucked the full glass of faerie liquor at the wall behind Alec. The Shadowhunter jumped, his reflexes firing even when he knew Magnus wasn't actually trying to hit him. "I said leave. Get out of my sight! Don't come back here again. Don't call me. Don't--"
Alec interrupted his tirade by closing the space between them in a few long strides, grabbing Magnus in a fierce embrace and holding him as tightly as he could. At first, Magnus struggled, and though he was smaller and not as highly trained as Alec, he was still plenty strong. He shoved against Alec's chest, but the Shadowhunter held on for dear life.
It was impossible to miss that if Magnus really meant him to leave, he could portal Alec back to the institute without blinking. If he wanted Alec to let go of him, he could turn his entire body into a 50,000 volt taser and make Alec fall down and pee himself. There were a million things that Magnus could have done with his magick to get free...but he used none of them.
In fact, after a moment, Magnus went completely boneless in his arms. He buried his face in the crook of Alec's neck, and finally, put his own arms around Alec and squeezed him hard enough to break ribs. Alec smiled to himself.
"I'm not leaving. Not the apartment, and not you. Not for a long time," he murmured into the crown of Magnus's head.
"Promise?" came the soft, plaintive question muffled by his shirt.
"No."
Magnus pulled away, fierce pout in full evidence.
"I don't lie to you, Magnus. I can't promise that I won't die. But I can promise that I'll try as hard as I possibly can to make sure that when I do die, it will be so long from now, you'll be sick of me already."
"That will never happen, Alec," Magnus said. He never called Alec by his normal nickname unless he was very serious indeed. "You could live until the sky fell, and I would still love you. Just like this. More, because every day we spend together, my heart just fills more with you."
Alec wasn't a mushy person, but this man in his arms easily turned him to a shivering puddle or romantic pudding with just a few carefully chosen words.
"I love you too, Magnus. I'm sorry I'm mortal."
Magnus snuggled closer, ear pressed against Alec's heartbeat. He stayed still and silent, listening for a few moments before he said:
"So am I, my love. So am I."