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Magnus Bane wasn’t the type to use pet names.
He could recall very few nicknames given to past lovers—Camille, Etta, Imasu, Woolsey, Lucien, Samir, Elian, Matteo, Nerissa, Julia, Aurelio; men, women, vampires, warlocks, mundanes, fae, and even a Djinn, once.
None of them had earned a nickname. None of them had lasted enough to receive one.
The warlocks, fae, and vampires were the worst because, unlike Magnus, they viewed immortality as a license to have fun, whereas Magnus saw it only as the curse that prevented him from experiencing a true love story—the kind with a happily ever after.
No one wanted Magnus, only Magnus Bane, and Magnus gave them what they asked for out of fear of being alone.
That was, at least, until his Alexander.
Buying the gold sheets had been a gamble—Magnus realized that, especially remembering the color Lydia had worn to the wedding with Alexander that never happened.
And yet, seeing his boyfriend’s expression flush red at the sight of that color in Magnus’s bedroom... made the purchase worth it.
And, above all, seeing the golden morning light trace the outline of his fiancé’s bare back, creating a fantastic, delightful contrast against the sheets... well, that made the purchase worth it in more ways than just one.
“Hello, pretty boy,” Magnus whispered into Alexander’s ear. “Time to get up, my love.” It was something Magnus loved about Alexander—he marveled at the way Alexander would snuggle closer to him to get even more cuddles, rather than pulling away in annoyance to remind him about personal space or ask, How are you so clingy, Magnus?
How could they possibly stand it for eternity if they could barely tolerate it for a couple of weeks?
"Come on, pup," Magnus murmured.
"I’m not a pup," Alexander complained, scrunching up his nose and furrowing his brows; he opened his beautiful eyes to shoot that signature Alexander Lightwood glare—a look that worked on everyone except Magnus. Apparently—in Alexander’s own words—everyone he met provoked a mix of affection and annoyance (with the annoyance fading and the affection growing), yet he had never managed to feel annoyed with Magnus. That exception made interacting with the warlock difficult for him, as he had never experienced anything like that before.
Alexander spoke of such things with the same seriousness he applied to his equality policies—policies he had championed even before meeting Magnus, though he’d lacked allies to back them. He used his influence as Acting Head to ensure his laws were upheld, playing a strategic game that left Magnus breathless at his boyfriend’s sheer brilliance.
"Well, with a pout like that, you can only be a pup," Magnus teased, tapping Alexander on the nose and delighting in his beloved’s deepening pout. "Do you prefer Panda?"
"No." Alexander grimaced. "My name is just fine."
"My little Shadowhunter?" Magnus offered, planting a kiss on Alexander’s cheek. "My first Shadowhunter?" Alexander simply stared at him with an impassive look—a look he pulled off much better than the annoyed one. “You're enjoying this.”
“Immensely,” Magnus confirmed, rubbing his nose against Alexander’s and delighting in the way Alexander turned to pull him close with one arm.
“Geh luciftias, micaol,” Alexander mumbled against Magnus’s shoulder, making him furrow his brow.
“You’re insulting me, aren’t you?” Magnus asked.
“Geh mica, zorge, ol,” Alexander continued, tapping Magnus’s furrowed brows with a finger.
“What…?” Magnus hissed, swatting Alexander’s finger away. “Alexander…”
“Ol hoath,” Alexander said, smiling with amusement at Magnus’s reactions.
“Alexander, this isn’t funny…” Magnus began, but Alexander ignored him.
“Olora, geh aspin ol,” Alexander murmured, kissing Magnus.
“What does that mean?” Magnus asked.
“Sweetheart, you’re my home,” Alexander replied. After a pause, he added, “Even if you insist on giving me frankly horrible pet names.”
“They’re sweet,” Magnus corrected him. “You’re my home, too.”
Alexander smiled, his face lighting up, before narrowing his eyes at Magnus’s grin. “Don’t you dare…”
“Pup,” Magnus finished, bursting into laughter as Alexander flipped them over and started tickling Magnus’s sides.
If this was what being in love meant, Magnus never wanted to lose it.