Work Text:
Christmas 2016
“Magnus!” Alec bellowed from the kitchen. “I need you!”
“Coming!” Magnus frantically replied, barreling into the kitchen breathless and agitated. “Sorry, here I am. The boys had their baths but Rafe is still fighting me tooth and nail to get dressed.”
“Mm-hmm, can’t say I’m surprised," Alec chuckled softly as he continued rolling balls of dough in cinnamon sugar. "Maybe you should just... I don't know... let it go?”
“Let it go?” Magnus huffed with indignation. “Alexander, the boys have worn matching Le Marchand d'Etoiles pajamas every Christmas Eve for the last four years! We aren’t breaking the tradition now!”
“Well it just seems like a silly thing to argue about. He’s 9 years old, maybe he doesn’t like them anymore.”
“It doesn’t matter if he likes them, its tradition! Plus I got the matching robes and slippers this year too. Just imagine how adorable the pictures will be as they open their presents in the morning,” Magnus trilled excitedly, his eyes sparkling as he rolled up his sleeves to begin helping Alec with the dough.
“I’m surprised you didn’t try to bribe him?” Alec teased, giving Magnus a playful nudge with his elbow as they stood working side by side at the kitchen counter.
“I did! I offered him cash, candy and video games! But he said he already had plenty of Christmas money from Grandma and Grandpa,” Magnus fumed. “So you can thank your parents for me.”
Alec tried not to laugh but his stifled giggles were leaking out.
“Oh sure, laugh. But if the shoe was on the other foot and you couldn’t make your precious bubble bread for breakfast in the morning then Christmas would probably be canceled!” Magnus ranted as he aggressively threw a sugar coated dough ball into the pan.
“Just relax babe, breathe... everything will be perfect,” Alec reassured him as he calmly reached into the pan to correctly place Magnus’ lopsided ball of dough. "I promise."
Suddenly, as they were just about to start rolling another set of balls, a stampede of little feet came racing into the kitchen, their voices wailing.
“Daddy! Papa! Rafe took my letter for Santa and hid it! And now I’m not gonna be able to leave it with the cookies!” Max screamed, his eyes full of glistening tears. He wrapped himself tightly around Alec’s legs, shaking and balling uncontrollably.
“Rafael Santiago Lightwood-Bane!” Magnus declared with an authoritative tone. “Where did you put your brother’s letter?”
Rafe looked down at his feet, shuffling them side to side. “I didn’t touch it, I swear! He probably accidentally sent it to another dimension or something! He’s always doing weird stuff like that.”
“I’m not weird, you are!” Max cried into Alec’s leg. His big, sloppy tears leaving damp patches on the gray flannel.
Alec dusted off his hands and bent down low to Max’s eye level. “Hey, it’s OK buddy. Want Daddy to help you write a new letter? We can do it together."
Max snuffed his nose and wiped his eyes with the backs of his hands. His little shoulders trembling as he tried to stop crying. “Ye-es pl-ease Daddy,” he hiccupped gratefully before reattaching himself to Alec’s leg.
Alec stood up and narrowed his eyes toward Magnus and Rafe. “You two can finish these up. There’s only one more layer left to do, and no using magic!” He insisted.
Magnus winked at Rafe, and he responded back to his father with a knowing smile. “Of course not darling, Rafael and I wouldn’t dream of taking any shortcuts with your culinary masterpiece.”
Alec rolled his eyes and nodded sarcastically, the corner of his mouth twitching upward in that way it always did when he was trying not to smile. "Right, sure. Ugh! Come on Max, let's leave these two alone to do the dirty work."
Alec led Max into the living room where the family Christmas tree was glowing brightly with multicolored lights. Every branch covered with an abundance of tiny handmade ornaments the boys had created over the years. Little photos and traced handprints, paper chains and popsicle stick crafts, each one a memory so vivid in Alec’s mind he cherished them more than any other part of Christmas.
The tree lights cast a shimmering reflection in the expanse of windows overlooking the Brooklyn Bridge in the distance, the sight as quintessential as a Norman Rockwell painting. Snow had begun to gently fall and Magnus had a holiday playlist cued up on the sound system. It was currently churning out a choral rendition of Hark the Herald Angel’s Sing, and the angelic voices were wafting through the loft like angels themselves. Which Alec found quite fitting.
Max rushed forward to grab his tablet of paper and red crayon from the floor underneath the Christmas tree then scurried back to where Alec was standing. “Daddy, do you think Rafe was right? Did I magic that letter away?” Max asked innocently, the remnants of tears still shining in his eyes.
Alec sat down on the sofa and lifted Max up to his lap, nestling him into the crook of his arm. “Well buddy, I guess that’s possible, but you know what?”
“What?” Max answered, his wide eyes gleaming as he stared up at Alec hopefully.
“Santa can find your letter no matter where it is, because he’s magic just like you,” Alec stated matter-of-factly.
“And Papa too!” Max burst out, beaming with pride.
Alec smiled. “Of course, and Papa too.” Then he kissed the top of Max’s head and squeezed him close against his chest. “My two favorite warlocks in the whole wide world.”
Alec and Max finished the new letter to Santa just as Magnus and Rafael came out from the kitchen looking frazzled. Alec wasn’t surprised to see Rafe was now wearing his Christmas pajamas, and Magnus had changed into a jaw dropping ensemble of red satin trimmed in gold.
“Your balls are all rolled and sugared sir! We had to change clothes afterwards because of the mess. Doesn’t Rafael look so nice in his new pajamas?” Magnus grinned victoriously.
“Lookin’ good son,” Alec agreed as he extended his hand for a high-five. Rafael begrudgingly gave him a weak slap then angrily threw himself in a chair across the room folding his arms tightly across his chest.
“Now, is it finally time for a drink break?” Magnus moaned as he plopped down on the couch next to Alec.
“Papa! Don’t forget we have to go and feed the reindeer!” Max chimed as he climbed out of Alec’s lap and threw himself onto Magnus’, knocking the wind out of him.
“Uffh! Yes of course my darling little blueberry, the reindeer shall be well fed indeed!” Magnus gathered Max up in his arms admiring how adorable he was in the red and white snowman pajamas he’d chosen. Rafe was still pouting across the room in his. “Why don’t you take your letter over to the table and put it with the cookies Daddy Alec made. I know Santa is going to devour those tasty treats tonight for sure,” Magnus said as he gave Alec a sexy, flirtatious wink.
All decked out in their holiday finery, the boys wrapped in their new fluffy coordinating robes, the Lightwood-Bane family climbed the fire escape up toward the roof. The snow lazily drifted down from above, its shimmering iridescent flakes dusting their hair and eyelashes powdery white. Rafael was carrying a bag of carrots and Max had insisted he take the jug of water himself. It was almost as big around as he was, and he clutched it tight to his chest as he waddled up the steps.
“I don’t think we’ve been up here since last summer,” Alec pondered, watching Rafael scatter carrots haphazardly around the rooftop.
“Hmmm, yes, and it was quite a hot night as I recall," Magnus purred, the two exchanging teasing expressions, remembering a particularly enjoyable evening they'd spent together one night when the boys were staying with Alec's parents. "I should like to schedule another one of those asap!"
“Daddy I can’t get the lid off,” Max whimpered, shoving the jug of water roughly into Alec’s knees.
“Let’s go pour it into that empty bucket over there Max,” Alec suggested, pointing towards a large metal pail in the corner of the roof.
“But won’t the water freeze? How will the reindeer drink it?” Max fretted, his tiny blue, bottom lip pouting with concern. He was a smart boy and often times one step ahead of his dads.
“I can solve that problem,” Magnus replied, summoning a bright blue flame to his fingertips which immediately turned Max's pout into a gleeful smile.
Alec helped Max pour the water very slowly into the bucket as Magnus cast his magical flame toward its base to keep it warm. “There we go! That’ll keep the water from freezing until Santa and his reindeer arrive!”
“And speaking of Santa, it’s getting late so we better head back down,” Alec insisted. “We wouldn’t want Santa to have to skip our house because you two weren’t in bed.”
Max and Rafe’s eyes bulged as they turned toward each other and exchanged worried looks.
“Papa make the portal like you did last year!” Rafe exclaimed, clapping his mitten covered hands together. “The stairs are slick and snowy! You don’t want us to fall!”
“Oh yes Papa please, please make the portal!” Max cried out as he bounced up and down eagerly.
“Alright, alright, stand back boys, this is going to require some extra special Christmas magic,” Magnus declared as he began to swirl and flourish his arms in large circles for extra dramatic effect.
The boys’ eyes sparkled with wonder, their mouths hanging open awestruck, as Magnus created a glowing red and green portal that was trimmed with little silver bells and holly berries.
"I give you, the official, and exceptionally classified, High Warlock of Brooklyn's Magical Holiday Portal to Dreamland!" Magnus proclaimed.
“Nice touch,” Alec whispered as he watched both boys clutch each other in sheer delight.
“Oh Papa, it’s so pretty!” Rafe exclaimed.
“Carry me piggy-back Daddy so I can touch the top!” Max beamed.
Alec hoisted Max up onto his shoulders and Rafe took hold of Magnus’ hand, the four of them passing together through the glimmering portal, safely back downstairs to bed.
“That was so cool,” Rafael gushed as he climbed the ladder to the top bunk while Max dove into his spot on the bottom.
“So cool!” Max replied, imitating his older brother. “Just wait until I tell Mikey! He’s gonna be so jealous!”
“Now Max, it isn’t nice to brag to your cousin Michael,” Magnus corrected him. “I’m sure he's seen plenty of portals before.
“Yeah but not as cool as yours! Plus he says Auntie Clary doesn’t like to use portals that much. Unless it’s something super important.” Max excitedly informed him. “So I’m gonna tell him tomorrow as soon as we get to Uncle Simon’s house!”
“Daddy, why do we have to go anywhere tomorrow? I just want stay home and play with all my new toys,” Rafael grumbled.
“We already told you boys, it’s easier on Auntie Isabelle if we go to their house tomorrow because its baby George’s first Christmas,” Alec explained.
“He’s just a baby, why does he care where Christmas is?” Rafe protested.
“It’s just easier that way, and we won’t stay long,” Magnus promised. “Now both of you get under the covers and close your eyes tight or Daddy Alec can’t start reading Twas the Night Before Christmas.”
The boys nestled down in their beds and Alec and Magnus took turns kissing their foreheads goodnight. Grabbing the book from the nightstand Alec turned off all the lights except for one floor lamp next to a wooden rocking chair in the corner of the room. He sat down gingerly, licked his thumb, and turned to the first page. Magnus settled into a New York Yankees bean bag at Alec’s feet, a gift from Uncle Simon, then leaned over to drape his arm lazily across Alec’s lap.
'Twas the night before Christmas, when all thru the house
Not a creature was stirring, not even a mouse;
The stockings were hung by the chimney with care,
In hopes that St. Nicholas soon would be there;
The children were nestled all snug in their beds,
While visions of sugar plums danc'd in their heads...
Magnus closed his eyes and let the soothing sounds of Alec’s voice envelope his mind. He loved the way he articulated each phrase like an actor reading a well-rehearsed monologue. His deep intonation and careful style sparking a sense of wonderment that fit perfect for storytelling. The boys lie silent in their beds, no doubt already well on their way to dreamland, and Magnus too felt himself begin to drift off.
With the boys finally sound asleep, Magnus and Alec set to work on their parental Santa Claus duties. Magnus went back to the roof to drain the water from the bucket and douse the flickering blue flame. Then he magic’d away most of the carrots only leaving a few half-chewed stubs for effect. Last he dug a long, narrow trail of sled marks into the snow with his heel and added some boot prints to top off the display. Alec was down in the living room taking obligatory bites out of all the cookies the boys had left for Santa. He drank half the glass of milk, then took the letters and put them in a shoebox he kept on the highest shelf of their bedroom closet. He was always emotional to see how much their handwriting had changed over the years. Time went by so fast, one Christmas blending into the next, he treasured every memento of their childhood he could hold onto.
Everything finally set for Christmas morning, Magnus poured two glasses of red wine and joined Alec on the couch. The two exhausted dads cuddling close together after a long, difficult day of holiday preparations sunk deep into the plush comfort of the overstuffed cushions. They watched the moonlit snow flutter past the windows like soft, downy feathers, while an instrumental version of O Holy Night played softly in the background. They sipped their wine gratefully.
“Another successful Christmas Eve in the books,” Alec sighed sleepily as he clinked his glass against Magnus’.
“All thanks to you my darling, you were amazing as usual,” Magnus praised him, gently laying his head on Alec’s shoulder.
“Well, we’re a good team I think. Running this man-to-man defense is definitely the way to go.”
Magnus reached over and set his wine glass down on the end table next to the couch, his hands now free to wrap around Alec’s waist. He snuggled in close and let out an exhaustive exhale, melting against Alec's warm chest. “I don’t think I’ve ever been this tired, your Christmas present might have to wait until tomorrow night.”
“That sounds good to me babe, I don’t even have the energy to move off this couch,” Alec answered wearily, his words floating out on a deep open-mouthed yawn. “Besides, you’ve already given me all I want for Christmas…"
"Oh really? And what's that?" Magnus asked sweetly, his face shifting upward to nestle into the curve of Alec's neck.
"You.”
“Well, then it looks like we both got what we wanted,” Magnus happily replied as he lifted his chin to meet Alec’s lips for a tender and loving kiss.
"Merry Christmas Alexander my darling."
"Merry Christmas, husband of mine."