Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Magnus POV:

I came into class on Wednesday not dreading what was about to happen, per se, but not exactly looking forward to it either. A three hour and forty minute block of time that I could spend doing literally almost anything else and have it be more productive. I’d been excited to take the course (Introduction to Anthropology) when I’d chosen it for my gen ed elective, but our instructor, Dr. Stevens, was so dry and his teaching style to rigid that he could have even made a live demonstration class on the Kama Sutra dull.

It was a constant battle to stay conscious in his class.

I took a seat in the back of the classroom, aiming to be out of direct sight, just in case I lost that particular battle. I was sure it was going to happen one of these days, and we were barely into the semester.

I was just settling into my seat, my notebook open in front of me in the incredibly remote off-chance that Dr. Stevens actually said something of importance, and my phone in hand, when I heard an unfamiliar voice address the room.

It was melodic and strong, though I detected a slight nervous edge to it, as if the speaker was unused to talking in front of a half-filled classroom of thirty or so students.

It was a sharp contrast to the experienced monotone of Stevens.

"Good evening everyone,” the voice said. “My name is Alec and I am Dr. Stevens' TA. I usually help out with his larger classes, but he's sick tonight so I'm filling in."

There was a perceptible groan from many of my classmates, presumably wishing the teacher had just cancelled class so they could have the evening free to do other things. Ten minutes ago, I would have been right there with them, sharing in the collective misery, but this TA, Alec, was all kinds of hot, and at the moment, spending the rest of my evening staring at that did not register as something to complain about.

"I know, I know,” Alec said in response to the disgruntled murmuring, looking as though he’d expected this cold reception. “I'm sure everyone would rather just have class cancelled than be stuck with the boring TA for two and a half hours watching some obscure ethnography that half of you probably don't care about because you're not even anthropology majors. So I'm going to give everyone a choice: option one is that you stay in class, watch some clips from my favorite sci-fi movies, discussing what Hollywood got right and what it got wrong, and earn a little bit of extra credit. Option two is that you can leave right now. It won't count against you, but Stevens doesn't offer extra credit often, so if you think you'll need the help, you might want to suffer through. If not, have a good night." He sounded completely disinterested in whether or not we chose to stay in class, but the slight drop in his shoulders as over half of the class started packing up their things put a crack in his indifferent façade. As did the slight nervous tremble in his hands.

"Well, that was to be expected." He laughed, self-deprecating, almost as if talking to himself, and by the gods it was a beautiful sound. Like an angel. He opened his shoulder bag and pulled out a laptop and a black spiral notebook. He ripped a page out of the notebook and wrote something at the top of it, then looked back at the remaining students. "Now that there are plenty of empty seats, feel free to move up a bit closer to the front so I don't have to feel like I'm yelling."

I took about two seconds to decide to abandon the seat I’d originally chosen to hide in, and grabbed my stuff to move to one of the newly vacated seats at the front of the class so I could get a better view.

Of the promised sci-fi flicks, obviously. Not in order to catalogue the precise shade of blue of the eyes of our anxiously adorable TA.

The third and fourth rows filled up and a few people moved to the second, but I was, embarrassingly, the only person to choose a front seat.

Well, I feel like a prat. I thought, mostly unfazed. From there, I could really take in the view. Alec was tall, though probably still an inch or two shorter than me, with short black hair that fell messily into his blue eyes every time he looked down at his computer screen. He was pale and muscular, with a slender frame that was nonetheless chiseled. His biceps were deliciously well defined and his hands looked strong and soft; long, delicate fingers fiddled with some cables on the podium near the whiteboard, trying to hook it up so that we could watch the aforementioned sci-fi flicks. I had to look away when he started biting his lower lip in frustrated concentration.

The next few hours were going to be the death of me.

"All right, here’s how this is going to work.” He said, still struggling with the antique A/V equipment. “I’d like everyone to pay attention to how anthropology and/or its sub-fields are described and used. You should have covered those during week one. I’m going to play four clips for each movie, each about five minutes long, and afterwards we’ll spend some time discussing as a class then move on to the next film. Does that sound doable?”

There was a smattering of noises that could be taken affirmatively and a few mumbled “yeah”s.

Oh yeah, this whole discussion-based class time was going to go great.

"There we go." He mumbled to himself in triumph as a DVD title screen popped up on the projector screen. He looked back at the class and laughed again. "I don't bite." He said, referencing the fact that there was an almost entirely empty row of seats between him and the students.

Almost.

He handed me the piece of paper he'd ripped out of his notebook earlier, conversationally adding, "Since you're so brave you can start this off." Then louder he address the rest of the class, "everyone make sure your name is on the role, otherwise I won't be able to give you the extra credit points and you and I will have both wasted your time for nothing."

Our fingers brushed when he handed over the paper and a slight blush definitely arose on his neck. Not that I was intentionally trying to catch his eye and get a rise out of him, or anything…

I scrawled my name as neatly and beautifully as I could then passed it behind me, thoughts of all of the ways I could make that blush deepen filling my mind and distracting me enough that I startled when the lights shut off and someone sat down in the seat next to me.

Not just someone.

I looked over just in time to see him hastily turn his head away. I subtly shifted in my seat so that our shoulders brushed, for the first time in my life being grateful for shitty college desks and overcrowded classrooms.

What the hell, Bane? I mentally scolded myself as I tried not to smile at the tingling warms of the contact. You don't get butterflies over people, people get butterflies over you. The extent of this TA’s effect on me was surprising, to say the least. I appreciated an attractive face as much as the next guy, but it’d been a long time since I’d felt to desire to go on the offensive. That was a level of effort I wasn’t often bothered to put in.

Alec cleared his throat and addressed the class again.

“Let’s with everyone's favorite archaeologist and adventurer…" Alec clicked a few buttons on his laptop and we were gazing upon the classroom of Dr. Jones. It just wouldn’t be an anthropology playlist without Indiana Jones, inspiration to an entire generation of future, disillusioned archaeologists.

We watched about five minutes of a scene then switched to another, condensing a 115-minute masterpiece into a 20-minute montage. When it was over Alec got up from his seat, clicked on the light, and leaned up against the front of the desk.

Right in front of me.

That may or may not have been the goal of choosing the seat in the direct center of the row. I will never tell.

I held his gaze, like the attentive student I was, and tried not to feel too put out when he glanced away quickly and started worrying away at the hem of his shirt again. Really, that’s no way to treat a fabric, even if it is only cotton.

"So, is there anyone in here not familiar with this movie before tonight?" He asked the class. Everyone shook their head so he continued. "Ok, well in the past four weeks what have you learned in this class that either agrees with or contradicts something we just watched Dr. Jones or his colleagues do?”

A few students raised their hands and blathered on about tomb raiding and cataloging. He asked everyone's names, trying to make the atmosphere more comfortable, like we were all a bunch of friends sitting around chatting anthropology. You know, the usual Wednesday night college activities.

After a few minutes he turned the lights back out and sat back down, starting a new movie. The Mummy, this time. After playing the part he’d deemed most relevant to our limited knowledge, he repeated the drill from before. This time, requesting that different people talk. Ah, that tried and true method and ensuring that there are more than adequate bouts of silence while students avoid eye contact and hope that someone else goes first.

After a few moments, a girl in the fourth row raised her hand and he called on her. "My name is Jenna." Jenna spoke with a lot of um's, well's and like's, making me want to stab my ears with my glittery blue pen, but I refrained. Settling instead for rolling my eyes at her assertion that "um well it's just like totally unrealistic the way that they just like dig stuff up and move it without recording it or anything. Don't real archaeologists have to like do those grid things and make maps and well, all that stuff?"

Alec massaged his temples and took a deep breath. "Would anyone like to comment on that before I answer her question?" He looked straight at me. He'd caught me rolling my eyes. "How about you," he looked at the roll, "Magnus is it?"

I could get used to hearing my name on his lips…

I quickly shut off my internal dialogue, lest I say something unintentionally inappropriate, and shrugged with an air of nonchalance I was not fully feeling. I went through a phase of wanting to be an anthropologist during high school, until I realized how stuffy and passive most college programs wanted the field to be and fell in love with the idea of being a photojournalist instead. Point was, I definitely had a rebuttal to her comment, but I was on the fence about how best to strategically use my knowledge. I needed to come off impressive and intriguing without making myself sound pompous to Alec, or worse, like I was being disrespectful.

How difficult this whole “pursuit” thing was becoming.

"I think she's wrong about the movie."

"And why is that?" He raised an eyebrow, as if challenging me. Bait I obviously couldn’t help but to rise to.

"She's not taking the time frame or location into consideration. Systematic archaeological digs with grids didn't become widespread until the time of the Great Depression when the New Deal archaeology took hold in America. Even afterwards, it took a while before the Brits caught on. There were a few Englishmen who tried to emphasize cataloging and the like, such as Sir Flinders Petrie, but that was just starting to come into play during the very late 1800's, thus most of the techniques in the movie, crude as they may seem, would not have been that far from reality."

He looked impressed. Good, I made the right choice.

"Magnus is correct. You all will learn a lot more about New Deal archaeology if you end up going on to take archaeology 103, which is a requirement if you're majoring in anthropology. The one professor who teaches it literally wrote the book on it. One of them, at least. Anyway, are there any other comments before we move on?"

Predictably, no hands rose up, so we moved on.

He started up the next film and I tried to concentrate on the material in front of me, rather than the handsome man beside me. It was a battle I was not winning, or trying very hard to. Good thing this was an extra credit class and I didn't need to be learning anything, because the only thing I wanted to be studying was the expression on Alec’s face when I had him underneath me. Or above me. Or really anywhere as long as it involved a lot less people and a lot less clothes.

Luckily, I’d seen all of his chosen films before, because he ended up abandoning his rule and calling on me to speak four more times before the end of class. When he looked at me to talk, it was as if we were the only two people in the room.

I wished we were.

At the end of our Q & A for the fifth film, Avatar, Alec thanked everybody for staying and participating and said they could go, even though there was still about thirty minutes left of our allotted class time. In any other class, I would have been one of the first ones out the door, but tonight I gathered up my things slowly, disappointed to be leaving the presence of the gorgeous creature standing behind the desk, packing his laptop away. I said a silent thank you to the universe that no one stayed behind to ask questions so that before long it was just the two of us left in the classroom. Me, feeling an odd, small pang of nervousness for what I was about to do, and him double checking that he didn’t forget to turn anything off.

"Hey, Alec," I started, giving him a smile that I’ve been told could melt the glaciers. Alec turned around quickly, apparently just now aware that there was someone else still in the room with him.

He was adorably flushed, the rosy hue deepening as his eyes quickly scanned the empty room then found their way back to me.

"Magnus, what can I help you with?" He sounded confused, like he couldn’t possibly fathom the answer to that question. I had about a few hundred suggestions I could supply him with, just off the top of my head.

"I was wondering if you were free sometime outside of class." I walked closer, leaning against the desk in front of him. He looked, was that nervous or something else? I couldn't tell.

"You don't seem like you need any outside help with this class." He laughed slightly, smiling warmly up at me. "Hell, you probably would've done a better job than me up here tonight."

"Oh, I doubt that," I flattered, "I thought the class was really interesting. Much better than the last four have been. No offense to your boss." I added hastily; no one needs a teacher with a grudge.

"Ha, none taken. He’s a brilliant man, don’t get me wrong, but his teaching style is certainly something of an acquired taste,” Alec replied diplomatically. “The department does have some fantastic teachers though, so don’t be too put off by him. Are you a major?"

I couldn’t tell if he’d intentionally chosen to redirect the conversation, or if he was actually trying that hard to sell me on our school’s anthropology department, but I let it slide for the moment. At least it wasn’t a brush off, or an outright no. There was still potential here.

"No, I’m in the photography program, with a concentration in journalism. My advisor suggested I supplement with classes aimed at broadening my worldview. She thought it might help with my journalistic perspective one day."

Plus, the class fit into a gen ed slot and I knew it’d be an easy A.

"It’s definitely a field that leaves you a different person than when you started." His features took on a bit of a wistful countenance and I couldn’t help wondering what change in himself he was thinking of and whether he considered it to be positive.

Get a grip, Bane. Hookups don’t need backstories.

"So what about you?” I couldn’t stop myself from asking. “Obviously you're pretty into this."

Gods, that smile was beautiful. Those lips looked so pink and soft...

"That's one way to put it. I've always loved learning about people. Not what makes us tick, or what motivates us, not exclusively anyway, but how we come together and form relationships, rules, taboos… The tales we tell to make sense of it all and the way that words shape us and the other way around. I can’t imagine anything more fulfilling to spend a lifetime studying.”

Alec spoke with his whole body, his hands telling the story as much as his words, and his eyes, lit and earnest. It was a captivating sight.

“Sorry, I get a little carried away,” he said after a moment, self-consciously. He must have misinterpreted my lack of response.

“Don’t apologize. It’s refreshing to hear someone talk about their major that way. You’re obviously a very, passionate person.” I clarified, angling myself closer to create a more intimate conversational space. Alec looked down, avoiding my eyes but not moving away.

“Are you taking any minors?” I asked, trying to extend our time together without scaring him off. He was giving off a vibe somewhere between deer-in-the-headlights and confused puppy.

“Um, yes. Well, no, not a minor. I’m working on a double major with French." "Oh, parlez-vous le français ?" [Do you speak French?] I asked, trying my best to make my four-week-old knowledge of the French language sound sexy. It’s not what you say; it’s how you say it, right?

Alec raised an eyebrow and replied. "Oui, je parle un peu le français. Où avez-vous appris à le parler?" [Yes, I speak a little French. Where did you learn to speak it?]

Hmm... perhaps I should have thought that one through a bit more.

"Eh, je m'appelle Magnus, je suis de New York." [My name is Magnus, I'm from New York] I said with mock confidence. We both laughed when I'd finished reciting my name and where I was from – the extent of my vocabulary thus far.

"101?" He asked, smiling that warm smile at me again. We were standing very close now, and I hadn’t been the one to move this time.

"Yeah," I replied sheepishly. He seemed to be going for this cute, slightly embarrassed thing so I figured I'd play it up a bit. Why not?

"Maybe you should wait a bit longer before trying to strike up conversations in French," he joked. It didn't sound at all mean or condescending coming from him, as it probably would have coming from anyone else.

"Agreed."

He was back to maintaining eye contact and I was back to being mesmerized by the blue of his eyes, when our magical moment was interrupted by the sound of shuffling feet and unzipping backpacks.

Alec looked down at his watch and made a face.

"Merde alors, its ten to seven, we should get out of here. Unless you’re planning to stay for..." he looked around at the filling classroom and stopped a girl who was walking past. "Which class is this?" He asked. She looked at him like he was an idiot, which I suppose was valid since we just looked like two students standing in the middle of an unknown class.

"Bondage and Dominance: The Female Struggle for Power through the Ages."

"Sounds interesting, but I think I’ll pass. Come on." I grabbed his hand and pulled him along out of the classroom, not letting go until we were halfway down the hall.

"That girl looked like she wanted to punch you when you said that." Alec laughed as we walked along together, putting his hands in the pockets of his faded dark blue jeans.

"She probably just wanted to punch me for being male."

Alec laughed again then stopped abruptly and put on a more serious face.

"That's not very nice." He chastised. “The idea that feminism is about female superiority is absurd and perverts the concept by –“

“Alec, trust me, you don’t have to defend feminism to me. I consider myself a feminist. I just happen to know that girl and she hates all males with a burning passion, particularly me. A fact I am not to blame for, just so you know.”

“Oh.”

I nudged his shoulder with mine. That got a smile back on those lips. And on mine; touching him felt electric, even though the layers of our clothing.

We walked slowly down the bright hallway, standing comfortably close together, like old friends, even though we'd only just met. The hall was quiet except for the slight echo of our feet meeting with the off-white linoleum, my emerald green Doc Marten’s padding rhythmically with his faded converse. We exited through the large double doors, the cool September air hitting us with a blast. Alec hugged his arms around himself tightly, his this cotton t-shirt not providing much resistance to the chill. I wished I had brought a jacket I could offer him.

"I'm parked right over there," he said, pointing at a building a block from where we were standing, and in the opposite direction of where I was parked. "I should, eh, get going; I have a stack of papers to grade and a medical anthropology paper due at four tomorrow, and now this extra credit to input." He ran a hand through his hair, giving it a sexy tousled look that I imagined was similar to how he looked waking up in the morning.

"It was great talking with you." I wanted to hug him, but he didn't seem the type to be cool with that after only having known me for three hours so I settled for a handshake.

"Yeah, you too. Good luck with your French," he winked at me then turned away quickly, though not before I noticed his face turning bright crimson.

It was only after I had watched him walk to his parking deck and was halfway back to mine that I realized I'd never gotten his number.

Shit.

There was only one thing to do.

I reached into my pocket and pulled out my cell phone, hitting the #1 speed dial. The phone rang twice and I heard the voice on the other end say hello.

"I need your excellent stalking skills. I’ll be home with a bottle of rum and carton of butterscotch ice cream in twenty minutes. Sound good?"

"Sounds like a party." The voice replied.

If anyone could help me find the best place to accidentally-on-purpose bump into my gorgeous blue eyed TA again, it was Will.

Chapter Text

Magnus POV:

My roommate, Will Herondale, and I lived off campus in a small, three-bedroom row house in the heart of the city. Not the fanciest looking neighborhood around, but the crime rate was surprisingly low, as was the rent. Will, a nurse and occasional grade-A pain in the ass, had been my best friend since 9th grade. He endeared himself to me by beating up a kid twice his size who had made it his job to trip me as often as possible and call me derogatory names every day. After that, no one ever messed with me again, and if they did, Will would make sure it didn't last long. I still don’t know why he bothered – Will had always been pretty and popular enough to ensure that he never had to deal with bullying, unless he was getting involved on someone else’s behalf. But that’s Will for you: a face and mouth that say “I only care about myself” and a heart that contradicts them at every chance.

That was just the kind of person he was. I’ve always figured it has a lot to do with his being the oldest of three and his parents dying when he was so young. He took on a lot of responsibility at an early age and it just became second nature to look after not just his siblings, but everyone else he cared about as well. Will was twelve when his parents had their accident, his sister Cecily was ten, and his baby brother Jace was only eight. They went to live with their aunt and uncle, who happened to live in my foster parent's neighborhood, and were the nicest people on earth. Even so, Will set his mind to getting out of there as soon as was physically (and legally) possible. He took dual enrollment classes during our junior and senior years, while I improved my kissing techniques and mastered the art of liquid eyeliner, and he'd managed to get a job in nursing that paid him enough that we could manage the townhouse rent in spite of my shitty, part-time jobs. He finally got his RN license last year, just about the time I finally buckled down and started my first semester of college.

I'd spent the gap between eighteen and twenty-one working at various nightclubs and restaurants, waiting tables for just as many hours as I needed to pay for my (unevenly small) portion of the rent and a full wardrobe, and partying when I wasn't at working. Eventually I realized, with a lot of help (and by help, I mean yelling) from Will, that my lifestyle was unsustainable and I probably needed to get my shit together.

I slid my key into the deadbolt and unlocked it with a click, pushing the door open with my shoulder because my hands were full of booze and butterscotch.

"The rum is here!" Will shouted as I came through the door.

"I'm so glad to see you too," I replied sarcastically as I closed the door with my foot and walked over to the kitchen. Will got up off the overstuffed couch and followed, without offering to relieve my burden at all, might I add.

"So who are we stalking today?" He inquired playfully getting two bowls out of the cabinet while I poured piña colada mix, pineapple, and ice into the blender. "They must be really cute, you bought the good stuff." He indicated the expensive bottle of rum as he handed it over.

It has always been my opinion that if you can’t afford to drink the good stuff, you can’t afford to drink.

I unscrewed the cap and poured; no need to measure. If it wasn't enough we could just add more to taste and if it was too much, well, there's no such thing as too much rum.

"His name is Alec and cute is an understatement. He has the most gorgeous blue eyes I have ever seen, no offense."

Will was also a blue eyed, black haired beauty, but it looked so different on him than it did on Alec. For one thing, Will wasn't as pale so there wasn't such a stark contrast between skin and hair color. For another, though I love my friend, his eyes held none of that old soul deepness that Alec's did – at least not in my opinion – just stubbornness and snark, and occasionally hellfire rage. That was trademark Herondale trait; they could all be forces to be reckoned with, if adequately provoked.

"None taken. Not everyone is evolved enough to appreciate the piece of heavenly work that is Will Herondale."

I laughed. "I think you've been spending too much time with that bratty kid brother of yours. His conceit is catching."

"Haha probably. I really should limit his nights over here before he gets ideas of moving in."

"Or you could just go ahead and charge him rent. At a minimum make him buy his own groceries. I’m sick of hiding my Oreos.” I complained over the noise of the blender.

"Or you could just go ahead stop buying Oreos. Do you know what that shit does to your body?" He had that I'm-superior-to-you-because-I-took-nutrition-and-don't-eat-junk-food look on his face. It was quite the amazing feat to pull off considering he had a spoonful of ice cream up to his lips.

"Look who's talking? Butterscotch hypocrite." I poured the piña coladas into their tall glasses, garnished them with some more fresh pineapple chunks, and grabbed the wide straws and long spoons.

Not that we made those often enough to have specific drinkware dedicated to them or anything…

Will just shrugged in response to my accusation and replied "it's organic." As if that somehow counteracted all the other ingredients that were bad for his body, like the metric ton of sugar included to make butterscotch appealing to the masses. I shook my head and went back to the den to get comfortable on the couch. Will carried our (very full) ice cream bowls behind me and settled down next to me.

"Okay, so his name is Alec and he has blue eyes. That's not a lot to go on, Bane. Did you happen to get a last name?" He stretched his jean-clad legs out under the coffee table, reclining his head back on one of our Indonesian, patterned throw pillows. He'd complained about them when I'd first bought them, calling the hideous and a waste of money, but as soon as he'd put one on his head and realized how much like lying on a cloud it was, he'd caved and they'd been on the couch ever since.

"Ah, well he didn't introduce himself with one. Just Alec." I let the name linger on my tongue.

"Of course he didn't. Why would he want to make my life easy? And you wouldn’t bother to ask, because you’re you. Alright, got any other details that might help identify him?" He huffed through another mouthful of ice cream.

"He's an anthropology teaching assistant for Dr. Stevens, he speaks French and he has great taste in movies. Oh, and he parks in the Lee Street deck."

Will just stared at me for a minute in silence.

"Magnus Bane, have you truly talked to this person or have you gone completely out of your mind and moved up to actually stalking your prey now? Because only one of those is a legitimately okay thing to do." He spoke slowly and delicately as if talking to a someone who might mentally snap at any moment. He rested a hand on my lime green jean covered knee.

I threw a piece of pineapple at him and pulled a rather unattractive (even on me) face.

"No I did not stalk him. If I had, I wouldn't need you now would I? This is just all the information I gathered during our brief, but memorable, encounter. And when he left he pointed to his parking deck. I'm not that much of a creep Will, give me some credit!"

"I don't know what you two are talking about, but you're definitely that much of a creep." Jace snickered as he came out of the spare room. He was in an old ratty pair of blue plaid pajama bottoms and a white tank top that also looked like it had seen better days. I thought about commenting on the dismal state of his wardrobe, but caught myself before I did. He'd probably just say they were tattered because some female had been attempting to rip the clothing off of him.

That was Jace, conceited to the core.

"I didn't realize the black sheep was visiting." I said to Will, deciding it was best to ignore Jace's comment altogether. I’d started this nickname back in 9th grade and much to Jace’s chagrin it had stuck. It was fitting too. Cecily and Will looked almost identical with their black hair, dark blue eyes, full lips, and high cheekbones, just like their mom. Jace resembled his father and uncle with golden blonde hair that was slightly curly, a narrow mouth, and almost golden eyes. He had the looks to be a heartbreaker and the attitude to go with it.

"Be nice you two, I'm going to have enough of a headache from this glass of rum Magnus calls a piña colada; I don't need you two adding to it." Will mediated, before the name-calling could really start. We had years of creative nomenclature to draw from; it really could go on all night.

"Oooohh can I have some?" Jace yelled, making a beeline for the kitchen.

"No!" Will and I shouted in unison just as we heard a glass being sat down on the countertop. I refused because I had spent good money on that alcohol and didn't want his greedy self to drink it all. Will refused because Jace was only eighteen and he was being hypocritical again.

Jace mumbled something indistinguishable, but we heard the faucet turn on and off and moments later, he was in the den, flopping down in our oversized blue suede chair with a tall glass of water in his hands.

"So what has driven you two to this lonely night of liquor and junk food at only eight o'clock? It’s kind of pathetic, even for you."

I did not want to dish about my future boyfriend in front of Jace, but Will didn't hold the same animosity towards his baby brother that I did, so he saw no reason not to clue him in on my love life. Also, as I mentioned before, sometimes he’s an asshole and he thinks it’s funny to rile me up like that.

"Magnus is smitten with this guy he met tonight in his anthro class."

"How did he just meet him tonight? The semester is over a month through." Jace continued talking about me as if I wasn't in the room. It was a technique we both employed often and one that drove Will crazy.

Will seemed to be under the (false) impression that ignoring someone's presence when they're sitting three feet away from you is childish.

"He was the TA filling in for Magnus’s sick professor. I'm trying to figure out how I'm supposed to find his online profile or class schedule or some way for Magnus to casually bump into him again when all I have to go on is that he looks like me, only with prettier eyes apparently, speaks French, and makes bad choices when it comes to parking decks." Will looked at me, exasperated, for confirmation and I nodded. Yup, that was about it. "I guess you could find out when Stevens' other classes are out and just lurk around Lee St. around that time until you see him. That might be a little desperate though." He added with more sarcasm than I believe was called for.

“And definitely borderline Hitchcock behavior,” Jace added, helpfully.

I ignored both comments.

"Oh wait, I just remembered he mentioned he's taking medical anthropology. I could look that up and see when they meet. Unless there's more than one class..." That seemed promising.

I retrieved my laptop from the messenger bag I had dropped on the floor upon entering the apartment earlier and sat back down next to Will. I took a large bite of ice cream as I typed in the school's web address. The smile faded from my face when I clicked on the ANTH 391 link.

Two classes.

There were two class possibilities. Both of which were during blocks of time in which I was in class. No chance of casually running into him when his class let out if I was all the way across campus working on the art of storytelling or photography.

"Shit, no luck there. Back to square one." This called for more piña colada; the ice cream could melt for all I cared, I needed a buzz.

"You are seriously pathetic, you know that?" Jace looked mildly amused at my agony; watching us on the couch as if my plight was more entertaining than his favorite TV show.

I wanted to slap that smirk off his face.

But that was nothing new.

I tried to ignore my violent urges though and focus at the task at hand. I had to think of any way I could narrow down the search. Will was observing me with a concerned fondness.

“What?”

“It’s rare to see the Magnificent Magnus Bane falling over himself for a pretty face. I thought that side of you had died with the Queen.” That was what he called my ex. Well, it was the shortened version, the whole title was Vampire Bitch Queen, but he only bothered with the full thing when he really wanted to make a point.

“It’s not like that.”

There was a lot of bad blood there; our relationship had been just about as toxic as a relationship could be. I was young and foolish, and helplessly devoted to a monster manipulator. I knew Will didn’t want to see me go through that again, but he didn’t have to worry. I'd learned my lesson. 

Will held eye contact with me for a steady minute, before replying, “It better not be,” and taking out his phone to scroll through various social media profiles for “Alec” paired with the college name, holding the phone so that I could scan the photos for someone I recognized.

"This would be a lot easier if you knew his last name." Will mumbled. He took a long sip from his melting colada. "Do you happen to know his age?"

"Um, he looked younger than me, but he said this was his was a third year anthro and French major, so..." Will rolled his eyes at me. I'm positive that if I hadn't helped him find many a date this way in the past he would have thrown his phone down and called it quits. As it was, he owed me and he was going to sit here until I found my dark haired angel.

"Hey, this dude you're in love with," Jace cut in. I shot daggers at him with my charcoaled eyes but he continued on, ignoring it, "was he freakishly tall and inked with weird tribal-esque tattoos on his upper arms?"

“If by “freakishly tall” you mean taller than you? Isn’t everyone?” I couldn’t resist. Jace had very few insecurities, so I had to take my shots where I could get them in.

“I am the perfect average in height thank you very much,” Jace retorted, sitting up a little straighter nonetheless. “It’s not my fault my brother befriended a giant.”

“Both of you cut it out,” Will intervened before I could reply.

“Fine. To answer your rudely worded question: yes he was taller than you, but shorter than me. And I have no idea about the tattoos, most of his upper arms were covered by his shirt.”

He wasn’t sporting tattoos in the dream scenarios I’d been picturing throughout class, but I didn't think that counted so I kept it to myself.

“Kind of fidgety and avoids eye contact except for when he’s boring you to death about language, and cultures, and crap?” “

He wasn’t boring me, but…yes? Do you think you know him?” I asked cautiously.

"Yup that sounds like him." I waited open mouthed for him to continue, but he just stared at me, enjoying the power he held in his hands.

"Him who?" I almost shouted. What did I do to deserve this?

"You know, I'm getting pretty thirsty. A rum and coke would be delicious right about now."

I stared at Jace.

He stared at me.

He shook his empty water glass, rattling the melting ice within.

I looked to Will, who was suddenly fascinated with his phone screen. Fine. I am generally adverse to bribery, but sometimes, you have to make exceptions. I fetched Jace a rum and coke (more like a coke with a splash of rum) and sat it down gingerly in front of him.

"Okay now spill. How do you know my Alec?"

"Your Alec? Do you need a refresher of Will’s ‘People are not Property’ speech?" He raised a golden eyebrow and took a slow sip of his drink. "Went a little light on the rum there didn't ya?"

"Jace stop being a jerk; answer Magnus's question." Will intervened on my behalf. Though I pretty sure it may have been just as much on Jace's behalf, as I'm sure Will could tell that I was about to jump off that couch and strangle the little nuisance where he sat.

"Okay, okay. I'm almost positive he's a cousin of Cecy's new boyfriend. I met him at the Fourth of July barbeque. He seemed real aloof at first, like he was in his own personal hell and if he ignored everything hard enough it would just go away. But we got paired up for a bunch of those stupid, mandatory cookout games, and dude’s got skills. He’s my go-to second for sports challenges now – when I can manage to get him ahold of him. His sister is nice too; hot, but full of herself. It kind of works for her though."

"Hang on, since when does Cecy have a boyfriend, and why wasn’t I informed of this?" Will questioned in surprise, almost choking on the last sip of his drink.

I ignored his derailment. He was missing the point.

"This is great! He's practically related to you, do you have his number?" I asked eagerly, ignoring Will's cries of outrage that he was never told about a barbeque and why hadn't he met said boyfriend yet.

"Look, Cecy's going to kill me when she finds out I told you, like, actually filet me. If it were up to her she'd probably tell you via wedding announcement."

Jace laughed as all the color drained from Will's face.

"She's not that serious with him is she? She's only a baby! She can't go off getting married; she's not even out of college!" He was working himself up into hysterics, and almost made me spill rum on my designer t-shirt. I needed to get this under control.

"Whoa, calm down dad. I think you just answered your own question as to why she didn't tell you. And no, I don't think they're that serious yet. She is happy though, so stay out of it." Jace said, with more seriousness than he used for anything.

I looked back and forth between the two brothers.

How could they continue bickering about something so trivial at a time like this!

"Okay, everyone needs to calm down and focus here at the matter at hand. Will, Cecily is an adult and can make her own choices.” I waited for Will to nod in acknowledgement before turning to face the other. “Jace, DO YOU HAVE HIS PHONE NUMBER?" My heart was racing and I felt flush. Which, probably had a lot more to do with the fact that I'd brought the rum bottle back into the den with us when I'd made Jace's drink and had been absentmindedly drinking out of it since.

The Herondales seemed quite taken aback by my outburst.

I sat the bottle on the table out of my immediate reach and composed myself, waiting for a response. "

Yes Magnus, I have his phone number, but you’re not getting it while you’re drunk."

"I'm not drunk; I just got a little carried away. And if you don't give me that number I am going to get on your brother's computer right now and upload all of your baby pictures to Facebook and tag every girl in your friends list."

Jace didn't look bothered.

"So? I was an adorable baby."

"Except for that time when you were five and Will gave you a perm. Yeah, I've seen those pictures. And I swear to God I will post them."

It was Jace's turn to lose all coloring. Pure fear reflected in his face and he quickly got out his phone, mumbling "bastard" under his breath.

"Here." He handed over his phone and I stared at the contact screen. Alexander Lightwood. Alexander. That was such a beautiful name. It was the kind of name one wanted to shout to the rooftops. Or maybe that was the liquor talking. Either way, it was definitely a name I wanted to be shouting soon.

"Are you going to copy his information or just stare at my phone all night?" Jace asked impatiently.

I quickly got my phone out and copied the contact info, saving Blue Eyes under the nickname tab instead of Alec as it said in Jace's phone, then threw it back to him.

"Thank you." See, we could be civil.

I stared at the contact screen in front of me. Should I call? Text? Will he think I'm some freak and not reply? Will he even remember me? Or want to talk to me? There were so many questions running through my mind.

"Hey," Jace interrupted my thoughts, tone a bit softer than he'd been known to take with me. "don't get your hopes up about Alec.”

“Why not?” It’s not like I was picking out china patterns, but we’d definitely had a connection. I felt confident in that.

“I don’t know man, he’s a nice guy, but he’s,” Jace searched for the right word, “reserved. And you are, most definitely not that. He doesn’t seem like your type. Or vice versa.”

“Types are imaginary constructs.”

“I’m just saying, in almost three months I’ve never once seen him check anybody out, let alone hit on anyone. I know he’s single, but that might be an active choice on his part." Jace shrugged. "Not a lifestyle I’d choose, but hey, to each his own.”

"How many times have you hung out with him?" I asked, slightly bummed by Jace’s warning.

"A bunch. His sister’s roommate is really hot, so I try to get invited over to hang out or study at least twice a week. He stops by pretty often to make sure Izzy doesn’t burn the place down with her abysmal cooking and help her make it through French 101."

I made a mental note to look carefully at the roster next time it was passed around in my French class, just in case the Gods had smiled upon me and by chance placed me in the same class as his sister. Could fate be so kind? It's unlikely, but a man can dream.

"Hmm... I think I need to sleep on this and decide what to do in the morning. Thank you both for your invaluable help, good night." It was only half past ten but it had been a tiring day. Besides, I needed the extra time to sleep off the effects of the alcohol.

I could hear them starting to argue about Cecily again as I walked down the hall to my bedroom, but I didn't care. Nothing else mattered aside from the fact that I had his phone number. Alexander's phone number. Not that I was quite sure what I would do with it yet, but having it was a start. I threw off my clothes and fell upon my canary yellow bedspread, suddenly exhausted now that I was in the dark and horizontal. I closed my eyes and gave in to the darkness, falling asleep to thoughts of Alexander Lightwood and those piercing blue eyes.

Chapter Text

Magnus POV:

The sun was barely shining through my leopard print curtains when my alarm went off, but that dismal fact didn't bother me as much as it usually does. I woke up with a smile, a slight headache, and a thorough sense of determination.

I was a man on a mission.

I had realized in those early moments of waking, when your body tries so desperately to go back to sleep, but your brain is already awake, that I didn't need to wait for class to find out if – what was her name? Izzy? Yes, that was it – Izzy was in my French 101 or not. I could just check our online roster, instead of spending the day in a state of anticipation limbo.

I retrieved my laptop from the living room, deciding that I would wait until I knew for sur whether I would be bumping into her today before choosing my ensemble. First impressions are important.

 Although, if she was in my class, it was likely that she'd already seen me before. No one could describe me as “unnoticeable.”

Still, my plan involved actually speaking with her and if that was to happen, I needed to dress for success.

I ran my fingers lightly across the keys of my keyboard as I waited for the computer to boot up. Time felt like it was dragging along, deliberately moving at half-speed to torture me. Finally, I was allowed to get online and search for the information I needed.

Let's see: Jones, Joyce, Lamas, Lane, Lightwood.

There it was. Isabelle Lightwood.

That had to be a sign from fate, right?

I have never been a religious man, but I thanked every god I'd ever heard of, and the Buddha for good measure, that Isabelle Lightwood and I had been placed into the same class by this wild and mysterious universe.

Today was going to be a good day.

For the first time this semester, I made it to my journalism writing class early, even after standing in the mile long Starbucks line for my morning macchiato. As I walked into class, I earned no small amount of stares from the people around me, not that I was surprised. I generally consider fashion to be an important part of every day, but today especially, I had gone all out. I attempted (and I think succeeded) a look that was both sophisticated and chic, with just the slightest bit of excitement.

I had chosen a pair of black skinny jeans coupled with designer black leather boots, a white button down shirt with the sleeves rolled midway up my forearms and a black unbuttoned waistcoat and a pencil thin magenta silk tie for a splash of color. I added a studded leather belt for flare and a pocket watch with a silver chain to hang out of my waistcoat pocket. I'd spent a good thirty minutes painstakingly making the spikes in my hair stick up exactly how I wanted them to, adding a dash of magenta glitter here and there for character. I'd chosen a smoky eye look, even though it was eight a.m. and that was really supposed to be a nighttime thing. Smokey eyes always looked good on me. Add to that a thin line of magenta sparkly liner on my eyelids and I was done.

Perfection, thy name is Magnus Bane.

I took my seat in the front row of Dr. Edgington's class and tried to concentrate on the task at hand and not let my mind wander to all of the possible scenarios this afternoon could bring. There were exactly three hours and two classes to go, I just had to keep calm and focus on my studies and hopefully they would fly by.

Not likely, considering how all of physics had conspired against me today to make time move at the slowest pace possible.

At long last, 11am rolled around. I felt giddy with anticipation. As I waited in the hallway outside of our room for the previous class to let out, a terrible realization occurred to me.

I had absolutely no idea what Isabelle Lightwood looked like.

I wanted to smack myself for not having asked Jace for more details before forming my grandmaster plan. What was I supposed to do now? Hope and pray and the teacher calls on her today so I can get a look? I got out my phone and texted Jace, crossing my fingers that Jace was awake and paying little enough attention in class to notice his phone buzz.

What does Alec’s sister look like?

I texted furiously as people started to pile past me into the awaiting classroom.

Hurryuphurryuphurryup!

I looked down at my phone screen, 10:57 it told me. That was okay. Three minutes was plenty of time. Besides, I could always check it during class when Mme. Marceau wasn’t looking.

I glanced up and saw said teacher hurrying down the hall, briefcase and papers in hand.

"Ah Bonjour, M. Bane" She flashed a friendly smile at me and I held the door open for her.

"Bonjour, Mme. Marceau." I felt my phone vibrate in my hand and my heart skipped a beat.

"Merci." She stepped through the door and looked over at me, expecting that I follow her in since class was just about to begin. I had no choice. I smiled and walked over to my second row seat and discretely clicked to screen button on my phone to see what Jace had replied.

Alec. But with darker eyes. And more boobs.

What a delicate way he had with words, that Jace Herondale. A true wordsmith.

I refrained from looking around wildly to see if I could spot any black haired dark eyed females, but just barely. Instead, I set my backpack down next to me, glancing to my right as far as I could without looking creepy. Nope, no female Alec's over there. Then I removed my fleur de lis patterned notebook and ever so casually dropped my glittery yellow pencil on my left.

How clumsy of me.

As I slowly glanced around, taking my sweet time retrieving the stick of graphite, a flash of black caught my eye.

There she was! All the way in the back left corner, playing on her phone was the girl who absolutely had to be Isabelle Lightwood. She was slender, with ebony hair like her brother's, dark brown, almost black, eyes, full lips, and a much bronzer complexion than Alec's ghost-like paleness. She was in a purple lacy top that clung to show off her ample bosom and perfect figure, and a short black pleated skirt, with black leather high-heeled boots going all the way up to her knees. I was a bit stunned at her beauty, surprised that Jace hadn't described her more fully. This Isabelle was a thing of beauty, even Jace should have been able to appreciate that.

It was even worse trying to focus on the lesson in that class than it had been for my previous two. I just had to make it through fifty minutes and then I would go talk to her and enact my brilliant plan.

Mme. Marceau did actually end up calling on her to conjugate one of the verbs we had learned last class, and I recognized her voice, though I never usually turned around in class when people behind me spoke, so it wasn't a surprise I hadn't been able to put a face to the name. She definitely sounded better than Monday when she'd butchered the accent trying to say her birthday in French.

Not that I had any room to judge on that front...

Now she spoke with confidence, sounding not unlike Alec had last night. "Je fais, tu fais, il fait, nous faison, vous faitez, ils font."

"Bravo Mlle. Lightwood! I can tell you've been practicing. Remember however, that faire is an irregular verb and does not follow the rules for the vous form; you should say vous faites." Isabelle's cheeks pinked a little at the teacher's corrections and it struck me just how much she and her brother looked alike. Aside from the great fashion sense and different eye color, she could've been his twin.

I was glad the teacher had called on her (another friendly handout from the universe), because it gave me the perfect opening to strike up our conversation. When the clock hit 11:50, everyone started quickly packing up their books, fleeing the classroom. I took my time, waiting to catch Isabelle as she left. She had her bright purple backpack slung over one shoulder and was sauntering over to the door, exuding coolness with every step.

"Hey, Isabelle, isn't it?" I asked, falling into step beside her as we walked out of the door and down the hall.

"That depends, who wants to know?" She looked me up and down and I suddenly felt more scrutinized than I ever had before. It was as if she was trying to learn my life story with that one glance. I was glad I'd taken care to look extra fabulous today.

"Magnus Bane." I held my hand out to her and she took it, awkwardly shaking hands as we walked down the cold gray stairwell. Her heels made loud clicks as they struck each step.

I could see a smile tugging at the corner of her mouth when I said my name, but it was quickly schooled. What was that about? We'd finished descending the steps and walked out into the all too bright midday sun by the time she finally decided to answer.

"Well, you've got the right girl. What can I help you with?"

"A little birdie told me that you have this really great French tutor, and obviously it's helping you a lot, you sounded great in class."

Flattery will get you everywhere in life.

She tucked a stray hair behind her ear and smiled; I took this as encouragement to continue.

"Anyway, I'm having a hard time making sense of the lovely language that is French and I was wondering if you thought your tutor could help me out as well?"

I'd decided when I woke up this morning that it would be too weird to just text Alexander out of the blue. If he really was as shy as Jace had said, I didn't want to scare him off by being too forward. I needed a better, more concrete, way of getting to see him again, maybe without the pressure of an actual date upfront.

Employing him as a tutor seemed like the perfect plan.

"Hmm..." She pursed her lips in thought. "Perhaps. Buy me a cappuccino and I'll see what I can do." She swiftly changed directions so that we headed towards the library (where the Starbucks was located), expecting me to follow even though I hadn't answered.

I was starting to like this girl more and more every minute. She reminded me of myself.

I grinned to myself and followed her to the large automatic doors of the library. We took our place in line behind a short brunette girl who was talking shyly with a tall blonde guy who I could only assume was her boyfriend, or wanted desperately to be, based on the lovesick way he hung on her every word.

Isabelle took out her phone and texted someone, tilting the screen away from me so I couldn't see the name. Not that I would have looked. I'll admit to being nosey, but never rude. She clicked the screen off and slid it back into a little pocket on the front of her skirt.

We made small talk while we waited to place our orders and receive our drinks. Isabelle carried her cappuccino over to one of the small round tables by the large picture window looking out onto campus and I followed with my chai tea latte.

There was a melodic ring and Isabelle checked her phone, laughing and rolling her eyes at whatever was on the screen before returning her attention to me.

"Here's the thing," she said, abruptly starting a conversation. "My tutor is really busy and barely has enough time to help me out, but," she said with a glint in her eye, "I am willing to let you sit in on our sessions, kind of like a little study group. Only without any lame asses who don't actually do any work." She took a sip of her beverage and continued. "Speaking of which, you'd better not waste our time. I need to pass this class and Alec is the only way that's going to happen, so if you're not going to be dedicated and are just planning on fooling around then you can forget about it."

I was a bit shocked by her aggressive tone. Were we still talking about tutoring, or had she somehow read my mind and was now launching into sibling defensive mode?

"I assure you dear Isabelle; my intentions are the complete opposite. I will put every amount of dedication I have into this endeavor if you give me the chance." That was entirely true on both fronts. "I really need to pass this class as well," I added; making sure we were, in fact, still talking about French.

She gave me a look that made me feel like an interrogated prisoner, then, like a storm cloud being blown away in the wind, it was gone. She was all smiles again.

Her phone continued to go off a few more times, but she ignored it.

"Great! We're going to have a blast. Call me Izzy, by the way; nobody calls me Isabelle. Oh and you should know that Alec has very high expectations for people, so don’t let him down or he’ll get all passive aggressive disappointed in you and it will make you feel worse than a failing grade. Trust me. It's a really good motivation to study." She was talking fast, possibly because her caffeine had kicked in, or possibly because now that she'd appraised me and found me worthy, she was being more herself. Either way, it was a little terrifying.

"Of course, that might just be because he's my big brother." She added casually. I feigned surprised, seeing as how I wasn't supposed to know this little tidbit of information.

"Really? Yeah, I guess that would put the pressure on. You're sure he doesn't mind taking on another pupil?"

"Oh no, not at all, he's a good sport. And I'm sure you two will get along great. When are you free to start? I don't have any night classes, but I'd really prefer not sitting around making flash cards with my brother on a Friday night, I think that’s the actual textbook definition of lame. Do you have time Sunday?"

"Sunday sounds marvelous." I replied, happy that we both agreed that there were better things to do on Friday and Saturday nights than study, but slightly disappointed that my next encounter with Alec would be so far away.

"Well now that business is out of the way," she said, flipping her black curtain of hair over her shoulder, "you have to tell me how you apply your make-up like that. Those smoky eyes are flawless!"

And that was that. Izzy and I spent the next hour and a half talking about make-up and clothes, exchanging phone numbers when it was finally time to head off to our next classes.

I was walking on clouds when I left the library. Three days. I just had to make it three days and then I would see him again. And not just see him, I would be talking with him, working with him, hopefully sitting close to him and flirting skillfully when his sister wasn't paying attention. I needed to go home and decide what to wear!

Scratch that, the situation called for shopping!

Chapter Text

Alec's POV:

"No problem sir, room two-thirty-one you said?" I wrote down the room number on the yellow legal pad in front of me and returned to my phone conversation. "Extra credit movie day. Why not just cancel?"

"I thought you might,” *cough* “want to chance to try out your teaching skills without me looking over your,” *cough* “shoulder.”

I heard him blow his nose through the phone.

Gross.

"Thank you, Dr. Stevens. I'll start preparing now. It starts at four, right?" I opened my laptop and pulled up the class syllabus for Dr. Stevens' 4:00-6:50pm Wednesday night class. All of his 101's should have been in about the same place material-wise, but sometimes the night classes got thrown off because of the weird timing. They would definitely be behind now since the professor was sick with the flu.

We hung up after I'd confirmed the class time and I started making an outline for our extra credit class tonight.

My first solo run at teaching.

Sure I was just going to be showing some films, but there would be some teaching involved as well. As he said, it would be good practice. 

Right on cue, my body started reacting to the new knowledge that I would be speaking in front of people tonight. Only, the way my nervous system saw it, I would be battling a colosseum full of gladiators and lions. I wiped my palms on the knees of my faded jeans and took deep, steadying breaths, counting on the inhale and exhale. Supposedly, I would get over this debilitating anxiety one day, if professors and health care professionals were to be believed. I took one last deep breath and threw myself into work; the only thing that helps relax me sometimes. I just needed to see it as a conversation, not a lecture. I could have a conversation about something I loved without feeling like there was an atrium of butterflies fluttering around my abdomen.

I could do that.

Couldn't I?

On second thought, maybe today wasn’t the day to rely on the power of positive thinking.

I got up from the tiny wooden desk I was sitting at and exited my room, making a beeline for the medicine cabinet in the bathroom my roommate, Jem, and I shared to retrieve some chemical calmness. The bathroom was small, just large enough to contain a bathtub/shower, toilet, and sink. There were shelves above the toilet for our clean towels and toiletries and things, and a shiny metal cabinet with a mirrored door hung above the sink. We'd installed a towel rack to the back of the door after moving in, but aside from that, we'd left it pretty much how it’d come. Neither Jem nor I cared about decorating. The only reason we even had matching towels is that Izzy insisted on going shopping with me when I'd bought them. Really, what does it matter if one towel is green and the other is black, as long as they dry you?

Needless to say, that was not a valid argument in Izzy's eyes, hence the stack of dark green towels that supposedly matched the pale green walls of the bathroom.

I opened the cabinet and pulled out two small orange bottles with different labels.

Which one?

"Jem!" I yelled, walking into the den with both bottles in my hands. He was sitting on the couch with books and papers spread everywhere around him, his cat, Church, curled up next to him. Multicolored index cards could be seen sticking out from underneath the cat's body.

Jem was likely headed for another all-nighter to prepare for his first anatomy test of the semester. Despite his chronic illness and less than encouraging prognosis, Jem was determined to put every ounce of energy he had into completing his pre-med work in an effort to do as much good with his life before it was over.

I hated thinking about Jem's future, but at least he made it easy to ignore. Being around him you would hardly be able to tell he was so sick, and he hated for people to dwell on it or treat him differently because of it.

"What is it Alec?" He asked, looking at the translucent plastic bottles in my hand with dark, questioning eyes.

"I'm teaching a class for Dr. Stevens tonight; he's got the flu. Which of these should I take?" I held the bottles out to him and he laughed loudly, making me blush. Jem was well aware of my anxiety issues having been my friend and roommate since I was sixteen.

We met after I'd been kicked out of my parents' house for being caught kissing a boy (my first crush and neighbor) in our backyard and I answered his ad for a roommate. He was nineteen and tired of people treating him like he was fragile, breakable, at home. We hit it off immediately and, though it was a bit of a struggle at first, working and finishing high school, Jem helped me out a lot and I managed to graduate a year early with some college credit from advanced classes. I started at the university as soon as I was done with high school and the last two years of our lives are, as they say, history.

"Hmm..." Jem pondered, "probably this one, though it sometimes it backfires for me and just makes me cry. A lot. I feel much better afterwards though. You could always just take a shot of that vodka in the fridge." He chuckled, handing one of the bottles back to me and setting the other on the table amongst his stacks of books.

"Great. That's the last thing I want tonight, to start freaking out in front of a class full of my peers."

"How about we ditch the substances and go do some yoga before your class starts? The gym has classes every day at two and it's supposed to help with stress and anxiety. I’ve been trying to get back into it anyway."

I thought about this for a little while before finally, and grudgingly, agreeing. Working out did always put me in a better mood and I really didn't want to risk the drugs backfiring on me.

Jem was a genius. I felt incredible after an hour of relaxing music, concentration, and stretching. We walked back to the apartment together and I took a lightning fast shower before throwing on my nice dark jeans (aka, the ones that weren't completely gray and washed out), a new-ish black shirt with sleeves long enough to cover my tattoos (have to look slightly professional in case a faculty member walked in) and my converse. I had forty minutes to finish my lesson plan before class started and I didn't want to get there late.

Everything was fine at first. I was calm; my heart was beating at a normal pace, temperature was even, no sign of a blush or sweaty palms at all. I talked to the class without stuttering or getting tongue tied, I'd even managed to not let the fact that half the class left faze me visibly.

And then I told everyone to move up so I wouldn't have to yell and I turned around to see him sitting there.

Right in front.

Staring at me with those golden-green eyes that felt like they could see through to my soul.

Ok Alec, be cool, don't say something stupid.

I handed him the role and managed to get out: "since you're so brave you can start this off." Ok, so not exactly the most sexy thing in the world to say, but at least I got it out without stuttering.

Maybe I really was getting better at control my anxiety.

Our hands touched and all proud thoughts of control went out the window. Suddenly the room was much warmer than it had been before.

I worked up the courage to sit next to him when it came time to watch the movies, mentally congratulating myself for staying so well put together tonight. Well, put together for me at least. The bar was set fairly low.

He was distracting. Even without looking at him, he captivated my senses. He smelled like autumn. I tried to come up with some other analogy for his scent, but I couldn’t. Breathing next to him was like walking through an apple orchard. I detected a hint of cinnamon and crisp apples, and something woodsy. What was that? Cloves? Sandalwood? I only had a vague idea of what either of those scents truly smelled like, recalling that Isabelle had given me a pack of incenses for my birthday last year that we supposed to be sandalwood scented, and Jem sometimes put cloves in oranges around Christmas time to make the apartment smell good. I think it was more like the incenses than the oranges, but I couldn't be sure. All I knew was that, on him, it smelled delicious.

As the movie played on, I felt myself getting more comfortable, my mind slipping into learning mode, making me forget about being anxious. I stood up in front of everyone and managed to talk with relative ease.

It felt amazing. There was a long road ahead of me, but I could definitely see myself doing this in the future.

Of course, I'd have to develop a thicker skin with regards to stupid answers though. I swear I don't know how some of these people passed the entrance exams to get into college.

I held my breath the first time he – Magnus, the roster said – spoke, hoping the illusion wouldn’t be broken by the realization that he was just a pretty face.

It most definitely was not. I could listen to him speak all day. Good looking and he knew what the hell he's talking about? I had to be dreaming.

My professionalism slipped as the class went on and I found myself calling on him more and more, enjoying the cadence of his words as much as the words themselves. If he, or the rest of the class, noticed that I was being unfair, no one mentioned it. I’m sure the rest of them were just happy to not be required to speak up, and he didn’t seem to mind one bit. He gave elaborate answers each and every time, and smiled when he talked, keeping eye contact. It was like we were the only two people in the room when we talked about the role of an ethnographer and what lines were crossed in Avatar.

I didn't want the class to end, but I had crossed enough of a line using my authority like that, I wasn’t going to extend class just to talk to a guy more. Even if he was the most stunning man I’d ever laid eyes on. I let the class out a little early to give myself time to put everything away before the next class came in. I wanted to talk to him more, but I didn’t have an excuse outside of the lecture, so I tore my gaze away from those green eyes and started packing up. I was so lost in my thoughts (congratulating myself on not having an anxiety attack) that I nearly jumped out of my skin upon hearing him say my name.

"Magnus, what can I help you with?"

Anything. I would help him with literally anything.

"I was wondering if you were free sometime outside of class." He moved closer and I had the sudden urge to put my hands on him, to touch the golden ochre skin of his forearms that looked so soft and inviting and pull him even closer so that our bodies were touching.

Alexander Lightwood what the hell are you thinking! You're supposed to be an academic authority figure, he's probably just asking for help starting a study group or something. Get your hormones under control. I chastised myself. There was a time and place for those kinds of urges, and in the middle of a classroom, filling in for a professor was not it. I had to reel it in.

Easier said than done.

I thought I'd succeeded in tamping down my inappropriate thoughts, but then he went and ruined it with his horrible, but endearingly sexy, attempt at conversing in French.

"Oh, parlez-vous le français?"

Fuck he sounded sexy; even if the accent was pretty bad and he pronounced the consonants at the ends. Why, of all of the languages available at this school, did he have to be learning the one language I have a kink for?

It was unfortunate that didn’t actually speak French. Or maybe that was a good thing. I'm not sure I would have been able to stop myself from doing something stupid if he'd have been able to keep going. I had already unconsciously moved closer to him and was looking up into those gorgeous gold-flecked eyes. They reminded me of cat’s eyes: beautiful and mischievous. His lips looked so soft and were slightly parted in a half smile. All he had to do was lean down...

We were interrupted, probably for the best, by the start of the next class, and when I made a joke about staying, he actually grabbed my hand and pulled me into the hallway.

I thought my heart would never start beating again, but he let it go once we were away from the door and it restarted. My hand felt suddenly cold where it was no longer connected with his warmth and I desperately wanted to grab hold of it again.

Alec, get ahold of yourself!

I needed to leave before I did something stupid and extremely inappropriate, so I made a lame excuse (that wasn't really an excuse, I did have a lot to do) about needing to get home and practically ran off in the direction of my parking deck. It was just getting too difficult to keep my body from acting of its own accord. I’d found people attractive before, gorgeous even, but I’d never had the urge to just kiss them out of the blue, or the very real fear that I would act on it. The green-eyed god standing before me looked delicious, and I wanted a taste. Badly.

I'd had to get away.

My heart was racing by the time I got to my car and I had to count off five deep breaths before my hands were steady enough to work my seat belt latch. I sat in the cool leather seat with my eyes closed, taking in more lungfuls of air, trying to slow my pulse. Once I felt calm enough to speak, I took out my phone and hit my #1 speed dial.

"Hey, what's up?" The female voice on the other end answered after one ring.

"I need to tell you about my night before I have a heart attack. Can I come over?" I knew I was probably setting myself up for non-stop teasing, but I didn't care. I needed to tell someone and Jem needed to study, not waste his evening hearing about my helpless crush. Izzy on the other hand, this sort of thing was what she lived for.

"Alec, does this involve a boy?" Her voice started stern then turned into an excited squeal.

"Yes," I confirmed, still too shaken up to put anything else into words. I held the receiver away from my ear as she let out a noise a dolphin would be proud of.

"Hurry up and get your ass over here! Oh, and bring chocolate!"

Chapter Text

Alec POV:

"So what's his name?" Izzy asked in way of greeting, meeting me at the door before I'd even had time to put my hand down after knocking. She grabbed said hand and dragged me into her apartment, pulling me down onto the fluffy pink couch. I dropped my backpack onto the floor and sat the grocery bag I was carrying on her white plastic coffee table. Her eyes lit up when she saw the carton of chocolate chip ice cream and bottle of caramel syrup.

She dashed to the kitchenette to grab two spoons, a can of reddi-wip, and two bottles of water.

It's times like these that I miss living with my sister, though I'm certain it would be bad for our health and we’d end up weighing twice as much as we do now after about a month. We'd found out at an early age that we were much better at being junk food buddies than workout buddies.

"So?" Her dark eyes stared at me, wide, while I looked blankly back at her.

"So, what?"

She punched my arm.

"What. Is. His. Name?" She spoke slowly like she was talking to a child, or a dog with above average intelligence.

"Oh!” Right, I actually had to tell her stuff now that I was here, she couldn’t just read my thoughts. Thankfully. “Magnus. His name is Magnus Bane." I smiled as the name left my mouth. It was so unique, so beautiful.

Actually, that descriptor applied to the man as well, not just the name.

Isabelle cooed.

"What does he look like?" She'd taken out her phone, typing with one hand while shaking the whipped cream can with the other.

I took the top off the ice cream carton and set to work opening the caramel.

"In a word? Gorgeous. He has the most amazing eyes, green but also kind of golden? I’m not describing that right. Anyway, he has short black hair, and he’s tall. Like, actually slightly taller than me, which isn’t an unpleasant change-"

"Alec! You're drowning the ice cream." Izzy ripped the syrup bottle out of my hand and set it down on the table. I'd been pouring it while I was talking about Magnus and had completely lost track of what I was doing.

"Whoops." I said sheepishly, turning crimson.

"Smitten much?" Izzy teased, matching the one-inch thick layer of syrup with a three-inch tall tower of whipped cream.

I was going to need to spend a few extra hours at the gym to pay for this, but it so looked worth it.

We pulled our legs up to sit cross-legged on the couch and scooted the small table closer to the edge of the couch.

"Go on," Izzy encouraged, digging into our sweet, cold creation. "What was he wearing? How did you meet? When are you seeing him again?" My stomach did a little flip with the asking of that last question. When was I seeing him again? Ever? Probably not.

"Um, he was wearing green, the same color as his eyes. And he's one of Stevens' students. I was filling in for Stevens tonight because he's sick and he wanted to give me a chance to get more teaching experience."

"So you used that opportunity to hit on boys. Excellent use of authority Alec; you've made me proud." Izzy beamed at me and I glared.

"I didn't, I mean, I sort of did, but it’s not like his grade depended on it. And it wasn’t boys. Just Magnus. And I didn't really hit on him, we just talked." I didn't want her to get the wrong idea.

"Well, was he flirting with you?"

"I don't know. It felt like he was, but I may have just been seeing what I wanted to see. Maybe he's just a really friendly person. Although," I paused to lick my spoon clean and take a sip of water. I was in for a sugar coma later. "He did ask if I was free sometime. Outside of class."

Izzy squealed again like she had on the phone. Sometimes I really wish she had a mute button. Or at least a warning so I could put some ear plugs in.

"What did you say? Are you going to go out with him?" I squirmed under her interrogating stare.

"Uh, well, we kind of got off topic and I never got a chance to answer properly..."

I thought Iz was going to hit me. Instead, she slammed her hands down on the couch cushions in her frustration. 

"ALEXANDER GIDEON LIGHTWOOD! You were asked out by a total hottie who you obviously like and who obviously likes you and you GOT OFF TOPIC?" I recoiled into the pink cushions, wishing they would swallow me whole so I didn't have to face this situation. I felt like enough of an idiot without Izzy's help spelling it out.

"I know, I know. I'm beating myself up enough as it is, you could at least be a little supportive, sis."

She took a minute to cool down before responding. "Fine. We can fix this. Your atrocious mishandling of the situation can be remedied the next time you see him."

"There probably won't be a next time. Not unless Stevens needs me to help with that class next week too. And I don't really have a chance of ever having a class with him because he's not an anthro major and he's four semesters behind me in French."

Izzy grabbed my hand when I finished talking.

"He's taking intro French?" She asked as if it was vital information that I should have led with.

"Yeeeaaahhh... Why does that matter?"

“Because I am taking intro French.”

“Yeah, but Iz, what are the odds? There have to be half a dozen classes available this semester.”

"Was his hair up in spikes with lots of glitter and stuff?" She was getting very worked up.

I stared at her, letting it sink in.

It wasn’t possible.

"Yeah,” I answered slowly, no daring myself to hope. “How did you-"

"Ohmygod Alec, he's in my 101 class! You said Bane, right? That's definitely him; it has to be him." She was bouncing up and down on the couch now, still holding my hand. Her giddiness was making me a little uneasy, as was the fact that she shared a class with Magnus. That could be an amazing opportunity or an incredibly horrific disaster.

Likely the latter.

"This is great; I can talk to him for you, make sure he's not a total douche or anything, and give him your number. If he was really interested in asking you out, he'll call, if not then no harm done." She was amazingly fast at concocting schemes.

"Really Iz, its fine. You don't need to get involved. I'm too busy to go out with anyone right now anyway." Suddenly, now that it seemed likely that I would get to see him again I wasn't sure I really wanted to. I didn't have time to have a boyfriend; and was that even what I wanted? Magnus was so... sparkly. So much more beautiful and out-there than me. I didn't really see any realistic scenario in which we worked well together as a couple, and the more I thought about it, the less likely it seemed that he was even interested in me that way. He was just being nice tonight. 

"Don't be stupid Alec, this is what college is for," she put a manicured hand over my mouth before I could protest that no, college was not for dating, it was for learning. "You need to get laid whether you have time for dating or not. You weren’t exaggerating, he is gorgeous, and I am setting this up whether you like it or not." She lowered her hand once her speech was through.

“You need Jesus,” I joked, already knowing resistance was futile, but not wanting to give in so easily.

“And you need di-”

“I swear to the Angel Isabelle, if you finish that sentence…”

“I’m just saying,” she shrugged, feigning innocence.

I regretted everything. Some conversations were just too awkward to have with your little sister, whether she thought so or not.

"Look,” I tried to explain, for the thousandth time. “I don't want to just go out and get laid; you know I’m not into that. I'd rather just be single."

"Well I'd rather you just get a boyfriend, so I'm still going to make you try. It doesn't hurt to at least try does it?"

There really was no winning once Izzy had put her mind to something. There was nothing I could do but agree and hope to the Angel that this guy turned out to be a jerk, or taken, or something else that would make my sister give up her campaign to find me a boyfriend. I had too many things going on in my life to put time and effort into a relationship.

Usually that was just a fact of life that I was perfectly willing to accept, but for some reason tonight it made my stomach knot up.

Would it really be that bad if Izzy did get me a date with Magnus?

I left Izzy's around eleven, after listening to her talk about her newest crush (some older guy with a name that started with an M; really I couldn't be expected to remember it until over a month had passed; there was no point), the girl she hated in one of her classes, and the new pair of shoes she was dying to buy. I listened diligently, nodding in all the right places.

For every minute of Isabelle's undivided attention I got, I had to give ten to her. Those were the unspoken rules of siblinghood.

Her roommate, Clary, got back around ten thirty, thus providing me with an escape. Someone new to chat to, who was actually interested and qualified to respond with more than strategically timed head-bobs, so I gathered up my things and left as soon as I could.

Jem was asleep on the couch when I walked in, anatomy textbook open and lying on his chest, Church asleep at his head, empty tea cups and banana peels strewn across the coffee table. Jem preferred natural pick-me-ups as opposed to sugary energy drinks.

I cleaned up the mess as quietly as I could, removed the textbook from Jem's torso, and draped the blanket over him that we kept hanging on the back of the sofa. Jem had a tendency to get cold easily.

Once in my room I had a tough decision to make: Stay up all night and finish my work, hopefully in time to grab a short nap before class, or go to sleep and wake up early to finish it. I only had two classes tomorrow, the first - Evolution of the Human Language – not meeting until 1pm, so I could sleep in late if I needed to.

It was settled; stay up until the work got done. I made a list prioritizing my tasks and set about to finish them. I finished my paper by 1am; I'd really only needed to add the conclusion, rewrite the thesis, and proofread, so that wasn't too bad. It would likely be an A, but I generally freak out about my grades until I get them back, no matter how good I'm doing in the class. I moved on to imputing the extra credit for Stevens' class next since it would take me no time at all, trying desperately not to get distracted thinking about Magnus again. Then I hunkered down in bed with a stack of papers that needed grading for Stevens' archaeological theory class.

I don't know when I passed out, (somewhere near the end of the stack of papers and the beginning of sunrise) but when I woke up there was a large red ink stain on my hand from where I'd laid it on my pen at some point and my phone was buzzing. The screen read 12:02 p.m. and the buzzing was because of a text from Iz.

Alec! You'll never believe who came up to me after class to ask for my French tutor's help!

My heart pounded in my chest. No, she couldn't mean Magnus, could she? Was this a crazy coincidental gift from the universe, or had he sought me out on purpose? If so, how in the world did he know that I was Izzy's tutor? It wasn't exactly a fact she bragged about so I was sure only her, Clary, and Gabriel’s girlfriend's hot brother actually knew.

Isabelle you know I don't have time to tutor anyone else, and I'm only helping you so you can keep you scholarship. Stop playing matchmaker. He's probably just looking for an ACTUAL tutor anyway. His French is pretty bad.

I waited for a response. Five minutes passed.

Izzy?! So help me god if you setting something up I am going to kill you!

Stop interfering!

My heart felt like it was going to beat out of my chest. What was she doing? Was she talking to him? What was she telling him about me?

I looked at my phone again; still no reply. My eyes lingered on the screen for a moment before it actually registered that I had less than forty-five minutes to get to print out my paper, shower, and get to class. I hopped out of bed and headed for the bathroom, all thoughts of Isabelle and Magnus chased away.

For the moment.

Chapter Text

Magnus POV:

The rest of my Thursday went by agonizingly slow. I finished up with my classes around five thirty, then threw myself into my studies until it was time to go to sleep so that I would have all day Friday after my morning classes to focus on shopping and finding the perfect thing to wear to a tutoring session. It would help if I knew what Alec liked in a man, but oh well. I would just have to be my charming self and see where that got me.

Usually, it'd get me at least as far as third base.

I was surprised to receive a text from Isabelle Lightwood early on Saturday asking if I wanted to go to a party in the evening. I didn't really. I'd already heard about the party from various sources and it sounded like it would just be a bunch of bad music and underage drinking. Typical freshmen fiasco.

I had standards when it comes to partying, and that particular outing did not meet them.

However, it was a perfect opportunity to earn bonus points with my beloved's sister, so I agree to meet her there. Maybe I'd be able to casually find out Alec's favorite color so I could narrow wardrobe choices down even further.

Besides, seeing as what I had planned to do with my Saturday evening was the same thing I was doing with my Saturday morning – lying on my bed looking at every piece of clothing I had, which were strewn all over the room, occasionally trying on a new combination to show to Will for approval or rejection – I wasn’t sacrificing much.

The party was being held a few blocks away from my house, so after a cursory tidying of my room and two hours of getting myself ready, I made my way to meet up with Izzy.

Red was the color of the evening. Bright scarlet leather pants hugged my lower body, matched with a pair of red and black designer boots. My top was black, sheer, and sleeveless, clinging to my upper body in a way that showed off every muscle I had, and hinted a few I didn’t. Metal and leather bracelets and necklaces accented the ensemble, and small silver hoops in the four piercings in each ear. Heavy eyeliner, red glittered lids, spiked hair with red tips; all topped with shimmer spray to complete the look.

I had even painted my nails red with black French tips.

No point in going out if you’re not going to go all out.

I found Izzy standing outside the house, surrounded by a group of drooling boys hanging on her every word. She squealed when she saw me, running over and wrapping her arms around my neck like we were long lost lovers reunited.

I went with it, sliding my arms around her waist, and kissing her on the cheek. I was no stranger to the old “oh look, my boyfriend just showed up, gotta go!” routine. Will and I had had to employ it so many times over the years it was almost second nature to just pretend we were together until one of us saw someone worth hitting on. Otherwise, we’d have to spend our evenings sending back drinks and dodging lame pickup lines.

The group of boys wandered off, disappointed and grumbling. Izzy let out a sigh of relief and let go of me.

"Thank you so much. I couldn’t get them to leave me alone."

"Not a problem. It was nothing we need to inform campus security about, was it?” You can never be too careful, especially no with freshmen frat boys.

“No, just ogling.”

“Well, you are a sight worth ogling, my dear. Though I’m afraid for you to sit down in that skirt." I said, looking her up and down.

The skirt she was wearing tonight was even shorter than the one I'd seen her in at school and was blue with ruffles.

"Hey, I’ve got tights on!" She retorted.

"A technicality my darling. Though I must say, it does look fabulous."

Smiling at my compliment, she gave a little twirl so I could get the whole effect. She had on neon blue fishnets and more knee high leather boots, sporting heels that made her eye level with most of the men here, though not me. Her top was a navy and black corset with a little lacy black cover up donning her shoulders. Her hair was curly and she had attempted, and succeeded, applying the smoky eye techniques I'd given her over coffee Thursday.

"Come on let's go inside, my friends are waiting."

I followed Izzy through the crowded doorway, passed the table full of solo cups and bottles of bottom-shelf booze, to the couch on the back wall where three figures were sitting.

Shit.

"Magnus! What are you doing here?" Jace yelled wide-eyed as we approached. He was sitting on the right of a tiny redhead, who I could only assume was Isabelle's roommate, Clary. There was another boy sitting on Clary's left, wearing glasses and some band tee looking like he wanted to be anywhere but where he was.

"Selling bibles. What are you doing at a place with music, college students, and alcohol on a Saturday night, golden boy?" I replied sarcastically. Really, I can't stand it when people ask stupid questions. It's especially worse coming from Jace, because those seem to be the only type he knows how to ask.

He made a rather rude hand gesture at me, but refrained from saying anything else. Perhaps it was because of the look Clary gave him.

"I didn't know you two knew each other." Izzy said, as she sat herself on the arm of the couch, next to Glasses Guy. She crossed her long legs (the only way to sit in that outfit without showing off more than she'd intended) and looked at me. I sat in an empty chair next to Jace's side of the couch and answered her.

"He's my roommate's brother." I wanted to make some embarrassing comments about Jace's fear of ducks or propensity for singing girly pop music in the shower, but he had dirt on me too. I didn't want to provoke him into mentioning anything I'd said the other night about Alec and making Izzy cancel our tutoring session, or worse, stop speaking to me because I am a giant creep who had spent the last three days obsessing over her brother.

Jace and I looked at each other after I spoke. I could tell he was waiting for me to make the first move.

"Great, so you can tell us all of his embarrassing little secrets," Glasses Guy said, perking up. Fear flashed in Jace's eyes and he jumped up from the couch.

"Magnus and I are going to go grab some drinks. What do you guys want?" Clary and Glasses both asked for a coke and Isabelle ordered something "a bit stronger and fruity." Jace grabbed my arm before I had a chance to protest and dragged me over to the drinks table.

"Easy there sweet pea, your smudging my glitter." I broke free of his grasp and went about looking through coolers for the cokes and Isabelle's fruity-something.

"You know, I'm no expert on picking up guys, but I'm pretty sure it's a universal rule that if you wanna get with someone, you don't date their sister first." Jace poured himself a rum and coke and smirked at me. Apparently feeling braver now that we were out of earshot of the others.

"I'm not dating his sister, you idiot. We're friends, and so help me god if you repeat anything I’ve said about her brother I will make your life a living hell, do you understand me?" I'd straightened up to my full height, glaring down at him in the most intimidating way I could muster. I really wasn't that great at seeming physically intimidating. That'd always been Will's area, but I did know how to make a threat. And keep it.

Jace knew that.

"Look, you go over there and sing my praises to Clary and I'll do the same thing for you with Isabelle. This is the first girl I've really liked in a long time and she's apparently majoring in playing hard to get. So let's just play nice for one night and nobody's life has to be hell. Deal?" He held out his hand and I shook it.

I could play nice for one night.

We grabbed the drinks and headed back to our seats. I started Izzy off with a strawberry Hard Lemonade, not knowing what her alcohol tolerance was and not wanting her to get completely drunk while under my care.

That was why I didn’t prefer attending parties with people younger than me. I always felt like I’d have to be the responsible one. It was also why I tried never to drive to a party either. I was perfectly willing to spend my evening hailing people taxis if need be, but after you've cleaned vomit out of your glove box and off your windows for hours on end, you learn why no one ever wants to be the DD.

Drunk people suck.

I took my seat and Isabelle introduced everyone. Glasses Guy was apparently named Simon, how boring. We spent a little while talking and getting to know each other while more people started to show up and it eventually got too loud to carry on any sort of semblance of a conversation. Izzy went off to chat up some football players and Jace and Clary got up to dance. Siegfried, or whatever his name was, stared after them like a dog whose bone was just stolen, but stayed on the couch.

He was too depressing to look at, so I got up and wandered around. I'd promised myself I'd stay out until at least midnight, even though I really had no desire to be out at all.

What the hell is wrong with you? What has happened to The Magnificent Magnus Bane: Life of the Party? This is getting pathetic.

It really was.

My eyes hadn’t even lingered on another person since Wednesday night. That was not like me. I was outgoing and flirtations, even in relationships. Not to say that I was unfaithful, I just didn’t see any harm in returning a smile or a giggle every once in a while.

Maybe it was just because I hadn't yet had a chance to see him again. The more time went by, the more opportunity I had to build him up into an perfect fantasy guy that was probably way off from who he actually was. I just needed to make it through until tomorrow and then I could get on with my life one way or another.

I lost track of time wandering around, lost in my thoughts, and at some point I found a corner to stand and sulk in. That was where Izzy finally found me.

She stumbled over (obviously she'd been imbibing something a bit stronger than the drink I'd given her) and put a hand on her hip, cocking her head to one side.

"Why are you over here hiding in a corner? No one cute's caught your eye?" She said in a teasing manner.

I shrugged. "No one here," I replied honestly.

There was a spark in Izzy's eyes. She was a girl who was used to reading between the lines.

"So there is someone." She purred suggestively. She was standing close to me so I could hear her over the music and I could smell the alcohol on her breath.

"Possibly," I shrugged again. Why was she so interested? I'd thought I'd made it pretty obvious that I wasn’t looking for that kind of thing with her, but maybe the booze was clouding her judgment. That is what it's made for after all. "He's not here tonight though," I added, just to be safe.

"Probably at home studying or grading papers." She said casually, and before I could stop myself, I’d replied "yeah, probably."

Her face lit up like it was Christmas morning. "I knew it! You're talking about Alec, aren't you? Don't lie to me, Bane." She looked me in the eyes and I sighed.

The charade was up.

"I hope Jace is having fun wherever he is right now, because I am going to kill him in the morning." I grumbled through clenched teeth. I'd been looking forward to seeing Alec so much and now his sister was about to call the whole thing off and probably tell him how much of a creep I was and that he should never speak to me again.

"What does Jace have to do with anything? We're talking about you and Alec." Izzy looked confused. And a little unsteady in those heels.

"How did you find out, if not from Jace?" I asked, taking her hand and leading her to the door. She looked like she could use some fresh air, and as much as I wanted to continue this conversation, I really didn't want projectile vomit on my dry clean only clothes.

"I’m very perceptive, though I might not have put two and two together if Alec hadn't mentioned you before you approached me." I put my arm around her waist, helping her down to the second to last step and sitting us down as I let her words sink in.

Alec had talked to her about me.

Well, I'd obviously made some sort of impression. My heart fluttered thinking about him thinking about me.

"Are you going to tell him how much of a sketchy stalker I am?"

I said it in a joking tone, hoping she didn't think my behavior was that strange. If I was lucky she wouldn't even remember this conversation at all in the morning and we'd still be on for our study session, but I wasn't holding my breath on that one; she was unsteady, but she didn't seem anywhere near that level of intoxication.

"Of course not. He already thinks I'm the one orchestrating things, so there’s no need to tell him otherwise." She was resting her head on my shoulder, but didn't seem to be on the verge of passing out or throwing up, so I took that as a good sign. She was a much better behaved drunk than most of my other friends. "After talking to Jace and watching you ignore every person who hit on you tonight – which includes about half of the people here – I've decided you're a worthy catch for him."

I laughed. "Thanks for the seal of approval. And the help."

"No problem. I think you're just what Alec needs right now, even if he doesn't want to admit it. Just don't get discouraged, okay?" She looked up at me earnestly. "He's such an amazing person and really deserves someone great; he just doesn't think so, so he pushes people away. If you're not willing to put your all into this then tell me now. I'm not going to help you if you just want to get in my brother's pants and leave me to pick up the pieces."

She was looking at me with such intensity that it was almost unbelievable to think that'd I'd just seen her stumbling around drunk moments ago. Her eyes were clear and determined despite the alcohol I could still smell on her breath.

I'd seen Will be overprotective of his family, and me, for years and I never thought I'd meet a more intimidating sibling. I was wrong. Isabelle reminded me of a lioness protecting a cub, and I was pretty sure those manicured nails could, and would, rip me to shreds if I misstepped here.

There were a few moments of silence where we just sat there together, Izzy doing something on her phone and me thinking over her last words. Was I just looking for a good time or did I want this to turn into something more? I didn't think I could legitimately answer that question, having only met the guy one time, but as soon as the thoughts took form, my mind was shouting something more! It was entirely possibly that once I got to know Alec I would find out that we had nothing in common and were fundamentally different people, but I would never know until I tried. And one thing I did know was that if there was even the slightest chance that this could bloom into something long lasting and phenomenal, then that was what I wanted. It'd been so long since I'd been so utterly affected by another person and I didn't want to let that go. As much as I was physically attracted to Alexander Lightwood, I was intrigued as well. I wanted to get to know everything about him, not just the way his lips felt against mine or the way our bodies fit together.

"I promise you that I have I have no intention of using your brother and every intention of putting my all into getting to know him. Is that okay?" I asked shifting uncomfortably. She'd put her phone down when I started to speak and locked that fierce gaze on me again.

Finally, she relented and put her head back down on my shoulder. "Good enough for now. You should come over around two tomorrow. I'll text you my address. Oh, and wear something similar to what you wore on Thursday. Alec’s got a kink for men in ties."

"Will do, thanks. Any particular color I should emphasize?"

The phone in her lap buzzed.

"Probably whatever brings out your eyes best. He couldn't stop going on about your eyes."

"Got it. You're quite the sister, you know that?" Isabelle's jump from aggressive protector to helpful matchmaker was insane. I had a feeling she was going to keep me on my toes.

"Yup." She replied to her text message then looked back up at me. "Will you sit with me until my ride gets here?"

"Of course. I thought you said Clary was your DD tonight." We'd discussed driving arrangements earlier when Jace wouldn't stop pestering Clary about why she was only drinking soda.

"She was, but when I ran into Jace earlier he told me that she'd seen him 'talking' to some girl and 'threw a hissy fit and stormed off with her puppy dog'." She made air quotes for Jace's eloquent words. I assumed the puppy dog he was referring to was Glasses Guy, Samuel or whatever. "Apparently she forgot she was supposed to be driving me home and she's not answering her phone so I called someone else. My apartment's too far to walk and I wouldn't walk in this neighborhood in this outfit after midnight anyway. Not without some major weaponry."

I made a show of looking her up and down.

“You’d look pretty badass walking around here with a sword.”

Izzy threw her head back laughing.

“You know, I’ve always thought that my weapon of choice would be a whip. Which is completely Alec’s fault, by the way. Our parents let him watch Indiana Jones when he was eight and he was obsessed with it for, like, ever. He used to make me play pretend with him, but I didn’t want to be the bad guy, so I was his trusty sidekick, but I had to have a whip. I’d wrap my jump rope around my arm like a big bracelet. He used to get so pissed at me because it was “how Indy did it.” Good times, good times.” She was giggling pretty steadily now, but it was the genuine humor of fond memories, not intoxication. I was laughing with her. They sounded adorable. It made me wish, not for the first time, that I’d had siblings growing up. As annoying as Jace can be, I’ve always been a little jealous of Will’s relationship with his siblings.

“Fighting the patriarchy one whip at a time.”

"Damn straight." She looked past me down the sidewalk and quickly laid her head back down on my shoulder. "Now be good and play along." She patted my cheek and resumed her giggling. Before I could ask what the hell she was talking about, I heard a voice calling her name from the direction she'd looked in. She made to stand up, then sat right back down, as if she was having trouble staying upright. I looked up at her quizzically as the voice, and the body it belonged to, walked up beside us.

Alec.

The butterflies began fluttering like mad in my stomach.

That sneaky little devil. She could've at least given me a heads up so I could check my make up!

"Izzy, are you okay?" The concern in his voice was so touching. It was obvious they cared about each other a lot. Too bad she was using that concern to her (well, my) advantage and making him worry for nothing.

Izzy was still giggling, unable to speak.

"She's alright. I think she may just need some steadying. I'm sure the heels aren't helping." I said to him as he tried to pull her up.

He looked over at me as if he'd just realized whom I was. Which he probably did. I looked a lot different tonight than I had in class Wednesday.

"Oh, um, right." He looked completely shocked at my presence there and his cheeks were turning pink as his eyes took in my appearance. It made me feel a little self-conscious, but seeing as how he looked as if he'd just rolled out of bed, I tried to ignore the feeling.

Not that that made him any less attractive. His hair was unkempt, but somehow infuriatingly sexy, and his beautiful blue eyes looked sleepy along with surprised. He had on a pair of holey blue jeans and a ratty old blackish sweatshirt that was zipped up in the front. A thumb stuck through a hole in the cuff. My mind supplied the word “adorable” to add to the growing list of adjectives I had for him.

"I don't think she had that much to drink, and you probably don't have to worry about her getting sick. She just needs a glass of water and a long nap." And to stop faking because I know you are you little liar!

"Okay. Um, I should probably get her home." He reached for Izzy's arm, which she slung over his shoulder, and I moved to step out of his way, but was caught by her other arm wrapping over my shoulder as well. The height difference made this stance a little awkward, but it didn't seem to faze her at all. I tried to lift her arm off to no avail. That girl has the upper body strength of a Strong Man champion.

"Why don't I help you?" I offered, taking Izzy's oh-so-subtle hint.

Apparently, she wanted me to walk to him to his car.

"Oh… Uh, no it's okay, I can carry her-" fingernails dug into my collar.

"No I insist." I pinched Izzy's hip before I slid my hand around her waist to balance her weight at what just so happened to be the same time Alec attempted to put his arm around her as well. Our fingers touched briefly, before he quickly pulled away, positioning his hand higher up on middle and mumbling "sorry."

I could almost feel Izzy rolling her eyes.

We walked the little ways to his car and helped her to the passenger side.

"You guys are sooooo sweeeet," she pretend-slurred, leaning up against the door and putting a hand on each of our cheeks. We both rolled our eyes. Alec took her arms and held her to him in a restraining and steadying hug while I opened her door. "I'm coooooold," she whined, tugging on his jacket zipper.

"Iz, stop it-" Alec chided, while she wrestled to get his jacket off. "You could've just asked," he grumbled, now shivering a little himself, having worn only a ratty white tank top underneath. "Get in the car, Isabelle." He pushed her towards the door and our arms brushed momentarily as I stepped out of the way. The skin-to-skin contact set my body alight with electricity. His pale flesh was still heated from being wrapped in the warm black material, making me shudder.

I stood back and watched while he got her buckled up and hissed things at her that were too quiet for me to hear. There were those tattoos Jace had mentioned. Thick black lines twisted into numerous symbols, some large, some small, that curled around his biceps, swirled around his shoulder blades and peaked through the light fabric of his shirt. When he closed her door and turned to face me, I could faintly see a large, looped design on the right side of his chest, and the edge of something encircling his left hipbone.

The extent to which he was inked was unexpected, but I can't say I minded it. He looked damn sexy standing in front of me, and all I could think about was finding out when the rest of that mark on his hip went...

He shifted uncomfortably under my gaze and walked back over to his side of the car. I followed, still taking in the view of his gorgeous body. He leaned against the car door and ran a hand through that messy black hair, looking as if he wanted to say something. An unruly strand fell back into his eyes and before I could stop myself, I'd reached out and brushed it away.

His cheeks heated again and he looked at the ground.

"Sorry about that." He gestured to the car where Izzy was pretending to be asleep. Or maybe she truly was asleep. All of that acting must've been exhausting. "I hope she didn't make you miss out on anything...or, anyone." He practically whispered the last part, still not looking me in the eye.

I was inwardly smiling like an idiot. He definitely liked me. You'd have to be blind not to see that.

Outwardly I just shrugged. "Nothing important, I was about the leave anyway. My heart just wasn't in it."

"Oh," was all he managed as he opened the car door. I was sad he was running away so soon, but Izzy did tell me that I shouldn't get discouraged; he was just being shy. "Izzy said you'll be studying with us tomorrow?" He asked turning back to face me, this time actually looking at me and not the cracks in the sidewalk or the row houses behind my head.

By the gods, those eyes are amazing.

"Yup. That is, If that's alright with you." I stepped closer and heard his breath catch. Our bodies were inches apart now.

"Of course," he breathed, looking more nervous, but not breaking our gaze. I leaned my head down a little closer, and he swallowed anxiously.

"I should get her home before she starts drooling on the upholstery." He said, turning away quickly. I sighed and stepped back to give him room to get into his car, unsure of whether I could be as patient as it seemed I was going to need to be. "I, uh, I'll see you tomorrow," he stuttered as he fumbled around for his keys. I gazed longingly at him, waiting for him to look at me before smiling seductively and replying, "I'll be counting the hours. Sweet dreams, Blue Eyes."

I waved goodbye to a face a darker shade of red than I thought healthy, and made my way back home to take a very long, very cold, shower.

Chapter Text

Alec POV:

I felt like my heart was going beat out of my chest and, despite the fact that it was freezing outside and Izzy had stolen my jacket, my skin was on fire. I wiped my sweaty palms on my jeans and started the car, heading off towards my sister's apartment.

"You can open your eyes now, I know you're faking."

Isabelle stretched her arms out and forged a yawn. Rubbing her eyes she said, "What a lovely nap. Did I miss anything?" and smiled wickedly at me.

"Are you proud of yourself?" I demanded, not answering her question.

"Yes, very. Though, I am a little disappointed in you. He was trying to kiss you and all you could do was go on and on about the upholstery!?" She threw her hands in the air incredulously.

"He wasn't... I mean, I-" I was at a loss for words. He was – probably? – about to kiss me, and I'd chickened out. It was just happening so fast. Magnus Bane had been in my thoughts, and my dreams, all week. Seeing him tonight was a complete surprise, and surprises don't go over well with me – something Isabelle knew, but liked to ignore.

Especially not when all I could think about was how awful I looked compared to how amazing he did.

I hadn't even recognized him at first; I was too focused on Izzy's well-being, but then as soon as he spoke I’d realized who the person was sitting next to her.

"Did you know he was going to be there? At that party?" I asked, moving the conversation away from my ridiculous cowardice.

"Of course I did; I invited him." She looked so smug.

Before I came out to my family, I had been terrified that my secret would ruin my relationship with my sister and that she would never talk to me again once she found out. Sometimes, when she acted like that, however, I wondered if it would've been such a bad thing or not…

"What part of 'don't interfere' did you not understand?"

"I was just trying to help. It's a sibling's job to check out the potentials and report back." She pulled the visor down and started fiddling with her hair in the mirror.

I didn’t want to ask, but she was waiting for it and I knew she wasn’t going to give up the information until I did. If Iz learned anything from our parents, it was how to be a world-class manipulator.

"And?"

"And... he has my seal of approval. He seems like a great guy, you really should give him a chance. And more importantly," we were at a stop and she turned my face towards hers, giving me a stern look. "You should let him kiss you the next time he tries. He sweet, funny, and gorgeous, and furthermore, he's into you. Go for it."

I turned my gaze back to the road, trying to hide the blush that I could feel creeping up my neck. We were almost at her apartment; I only had to deal with her talking about this for a minute more.

"Why are you suddenly so concerned with who I date? I thought you'd given up on fixing me up with people."

“I didn’t give up; I just went on hiatus for a bit.” She shrugged. “Besides, he approached me, remember? I was going to be a pawn in this one way or the other; I just prefer it to be my way."

"The way of trapping and deceiving and calling people out in the middle of the night for no reason?" I parked the car and unbuckled, turning in my seat to face her.

"Exactly. Anyway, it wasn't for no reason. I legitimately needed a ride, which I thank you for by the way. I can't be blamed for knowing how to take advantage when a situation presents itself."

I shook my head, feeling a headache coming on. As I have said many times, there was no point in arguing with her when she thinks she's right. And I couldn't say that I was really all that mad. I had gotten to see Magnus, even if only briefly and while I looked like shit. Still. The sight of that man was worth hearing Izzy's I-told-you-so's 100x over.

"Go inside and get some sleep," I sighed. "I'm still expecting you to actually work on your French tomorrow, you know that right?"

"Yes sir!" She saluted me and stuck out her tongue. Sometimes it was so hard to believe that she'd recently turned eighteen. It was so much more like twelve. At eighteen I was starting my second year of college, focusing on getting A's and paying rent, not parties and boys. I couldn’t really say things had changed at all, almost two years later. I just didn’t have time for that sort of thing.

Except, maybe with Magnus.

I could make time to see where that might go, couldn't I?

Isabelle removed her seat belt and turned to go.

"Hey," I said as the passenger side door opened. "Thanks."

She leaned over and gave me a quick hug and kiss on the cheek.

"Anytime."

I had just woken up. About to roll out of bed when a strong arm snaked around my waist and pulled me back against the warm, muscular body it belonged to. Rays of sunlight bathed us in a warm yellow light, glinting off the silver rings on the hand that was placed flat and firm against my stomach, the shiny metal contrasting beautifully with the dark skin, almost shimmering bronze-like in this light. I leaned my head back against his chest, smiling.

"Don't go yet, my darling." He kissed my neck; soft at first, then sucked and nibbled, enjoying the low moans he elicited from my lips. His hand explored my waist, tracing my hipbone with long, gentle fingers, sending shivers down my spine.

"Magnus," I breathed in between helpless whimpers. His hand ventured further south while his mouth planted soft kisses along my jawline. I turned to face him, reaching up to tangle my fingers in the black hair that was sticking up in all directions from sleep. Our lips crashed together and he hummed into our kiss when my grip tightened as our hips met. I pressed myself against him, legs wrapping around him, our mouths battling for dominance. His hand slid past the elastic waistband of my boxers, teasing my hip, my thigh, until finally, finally...

I woke up.

My heart was racing and there was a hungry ache in the pit of my stomach that most definitely had nothing to do with food.

How long had it been since someone had actually touched me like that? No one since Sebastian, and that ended almost two years ago when he'd moved to Paris to go to college. That was the most intimate relationship I'd ever had and even then, we hadn’t gone all the way. I'd never felt ready with him and then, after he'd left, I really didn't have the time or energy to put into developing a relationship with anyone else.

I had Jem and Izzy for friendship and intellectual company and as far as the other stuff was concerned well, stress, anxiety, and occasional bouts of depression tend to push one's sex drive into nonexistence.

Not so anymore, apparently.

I would be seeing Magnus today at two o'clock. That left me with an agonizing six hours to fill, and all my brain wanted to do was think about what touching him would feel like, and how it would feel for him to touch me.

I needed to get out of bed. Those thoughts were too awkward to be having about someone was I going to see so soon.

Maybe a shower would help.

A very cold shower.

When I got back to my room after my frigid shower, my phone was blinking up at me from the nightstand indicating that I had a text.

It was from Izzy.

Hey, is it ok if we study at your place today? Clary is in hyper-rage mode because of the stuff with Jace last night. She's slamming things around & blasting Adele & Sara Bareilles as loud as she can. If I don't leave this place soon I am going to commit MURDER!

My fingers had typed sure no problem, before my brain could process the implications of her words.

My phone buzzed in my hand.

Thank you sooooooo much! Can I come over like NOW? She's getting dangerously close to the Taylor Swift stage.

I told Izzy she could come over and got dressed, not bothering to pick out anything particular. Knowing Iz, she had probably made the whole thing about Clary up just so that she could come over here early and chose my outfit for me.

I left my room and found Jem in the kitchen making himself breakfast.

"Morning," he greeted as I opened the fridge and pulled out the orange juice.

"Morning. Hey, just so you know, Izzy's coming over in a few and we're going to be studying here today. Magnus will be here at two." My stomach knotted thinking about Magnus being in my apartment.

Jem raised his eyebrows at me then turned his attention back to his omelette. I had told him about Magnus and everything that'd happened last night when I'd returned home. The new medication he was taking gave him occasional insomnia, so he was wide awake to listen to my pathetic story.

"That's fine. I have a physical therapy appointment at three so you'll have the place to yourselves." He flashed me a sly smile and I blushed at the implication.

"Izzy will be here too. We're all three studying together." I took a seat at our small round kitchen table. Jem plated his omelette and sat across from me.

"I'm sure those are precisely Isabelle's intentions," he said sarcastically.

"Yeah...I'm prepared for her to try to bail as soon as he gets here." I stared into my orange juice.

"Would that be such a bad thing?"

My head snapped up to meet Jem's soft gaze. "There are other things to life than studying Alec. And trust me; it's too short to just let them pass you by." There was sadness in his brown eyes and I tried hard not to think too deeply on those words. He wasn’t saying it for pity, just stating a fact, but I couldn’t help but think about how much more Jem had to offer than me, or honestly, anyone I’d ever met. It was so unfair that he probably wouldn't get to experience half the things that I would.

"Stop it," He ordered, poking my forearm with his fork.

"Ow! Stop what? I wasn't doing anything."

"You were feeling sorry for me. I can see it in your eyes. Stop."

"Sorry," I mumbled feeling embarrassed. I knew he hated it whenever I acknowledged his illness. He got that on a daily basis from nurses, doctors, family, hell even strangers. He didn't need it from me. "So you think I should give it a shot with Magnus?" I asked, changing the subject. 

"Yes. What's the worst that could happen?"

I had actually already compiled a long list of bad things that could come of this; starting with the not so horrible (I get up the courage to kiss him and chip his tooth on mine, or he tells me I got the wrong idea and never speaks to me again), to the more devastatingly horrible (I fall madly in love with him only to find out that he's sleeping with my sister or he's a fugitive who is only interested in me so that he can steal my identity).

"Alec, it was a rhetorical question. I don't need your actual list."

"I don't-" I began indignantly.

"How long have I been your best friend? I know you have one, Alec. You need to stop overthinking this."

“That's not exactly easy with Isabelle plotting and planning," I scoffed. I got up to pour myself a bowl of cereal and Church stole my seat almost immediately. Jem smiled and picked some of the ham out of his omelette, tossing it to the waiting cat.

I could feel Church's eyes on me as I poured my milk, so I got out a saucer and filled it so that I wouldn't have to deal with him trying to steal out of my bowl. Jem let that cat get away with murder.

The doorbell rang as I sat Church's milk on the table. "Speak of the devil." I muttered, going to the door to let Izzy in and leading her into the kitchen. My corn flakes were starting to get soggy, but I wasn't really in a mood to eat anyway, so I took two bites before dumping the rest down the garbage disposal.

"Morning, Jem. Did Alec tell you we're studying over here today?" Isabelle made herself right at home; putting a piece of bread in the toaster, she began to slice up some strawberries to put in her own bowl of cereal.

"Yes, we were just discussing it actually. As I told your brother, I have to be at the hospital by three so you'll have a few hours of silence."

"Yeah, because you're always so loud," I remark sarcastically, making Izzy giggle.

"Oh, that reminds me; I have another study group today so I'm probably going to have to leave a bit early."

I could see Jem trying to hide his smile. I just rolled my eyes.

"Of course you do. Why don't you just call Magnus and see if he can come over early, since you're already here? That way we'll be all finished up by the time you have to leave."

I didn't really have a problem with her leaving us alone (aside from being nervous as hell to see him again and the growing list of things that could go wrong running through my head); I just wanted to see if her first semester as a drama minor was paying off.

"He said two was the earliest he could make it," she said without missing a beat, making an 'oh well, too bad' face. "On the brightside, we have plenty of time to figure out what you're going to wear and do something with that hair."

I had no argument for her. I knew she'd end up getting her way in the end, so it was generally easier to give in early and save myself the time and headache.

"I will let you go through my clothes, if you can call them by their French names. And you can fix my hair if you can tell me how to say that in French as well." I was pretty confident my hair was safe (Izzy had a lot of trouble with the reflexive verbs), but I was almost certain that she'd memorized the entire fashion vocab list before she knew how to say hello.

"Deal." Izzy beamed with her success while she munched on toast.

By the time two o'clock rolled around Iz had settled on "un tee-shirt bleu" (one of the only colored t-shirts I own and one that's a deep, navy blue with a V-neck collar), and "un pantalon noir" (one of the few pairs of not faded black pants I had). She'd searched and searched for anything in a lighter shade, but the only pieces of light clothing I have are my socks and one white button down I wear when I go to interviews or funerals. She surprised me by correctly conjugating the reflexive verb se brosser, thereby winning the rights to mess with my hair. After much frustration, most of it having to do with the size of our bathroom and my lack of hair products, she finally exclaimed she was done and it was "as good as it's gonna get." I personally think that she made it look exactly the same as it had before I'd showered this morning, but who am I to judge her styling expertise?

She was in such a fashion frenzy that Jem had even let her help him choose what to wear to his appointment. In light grey slacks, a white button down with dark tie, topped with a dark grey cardigan, I thought he was going a little over the top for a meeting with his physical therapist, considering the fact that he would be changing clothes when he got there anyway, but I figured he was trying to help take the attention off me and for that, I was grateful. He was even wearing cologne, which he hardly ever bothered with. It was a subtle spiced scent that he'd gotten for Christmas one year and usually just sat at the back of our bathroom cabinet.

Izzy and I were taking a break from working on her pronunciations, which she was getting a lot better at, and we were all sitting on the couch watching the Animal Planet's Too Cute Kittens (it was the only thing the three of us could agree on, though Church looked rather disgusted whenever any of us 'awwed'), when the doorbell rang. My heart immediately started to race and I probably would have just sat there freaking out all day if Izzy hadn't elbowed me in the ribs.

"Aren't you going to answer that?"

I got off the couch and walked over to the door, feeling the stares of my comrades on my back.

"Hey, come on in." I said as I opened the door, before I'd actually had the chance to look at the man standing before me. It was a good thing I had too, because for a moment I forgot how to speak. I may have forgotten how to breathe as well, because I felt myself gasp when he stepped past me and into the apartment, brushing my arm.

I had to stop myself from staring at the tall, gorgeous creature taking a seat in my home. He was wearing a pair of blue jeans with a lot of holes in them, but where most of my jeans had holes because I wear them far longer than a person should, these looked like they had been made that way; 'distressed' I think is what Iz calls it. He had on brown leather boots, a tight baby blue button down shirt, and a black unbuttoned waistcoat, along with a pencil thin black silk tie. 

God that's sexy. 

His belt matched his boots and displayed some large silver buckle that I only glanced at. I didn't want him to notice me looking and think I was a creep. He had much less make-up on than he'd had last night; only a small amount of green shadow that made his eyes shine. His hair lacked the glittery spikes that I'd seen the last two times, and it looked so good. Not that I didn't like the spikes, but the way it looked down made me want to know what it felt like to run my fingers through it.

Magnus was introducing himself to Jem when I finally remembered how to walk back over to them.

"Alec, before you sit down, would you be so kind as to get me another cup of tea before I have to leave?" Jem asked me as I was about to take my seat. It was a little surprising considering that Jem hates people doing things for him, even something as simple as getting a drink.

"Oh, and can you get me a water while you're in there?" Izzy added.

"Sure. Magnus would you like anything?" I didn't want to leave our guest out, since I was playing waiter anyway.

"Tea would be lovely. Here let me help." He stood up to come with me to the kitchen.

"Oh, no it's fine, I can manage." I said hastily, earning eye rolls from both my sister and roommate.

"Nonsense. You have three drink orders and only two hands. Lead the way." He motioned for me to go to the kitchen so I did. I couldn't argue with logic.

As we left the room, I could have sworn I saw Jem wink at Iz out the corner of my eye.

"We have unsweet tea in the fridge and all of these" I opened the cupboard to reveal two shelves full of boxes of flavored teas. Jem and I had a habit of buying new kinds, having one cup, and then never touching them again. We each only had about three favorites and the rest just got pushed to the back of the cabinet. Jem liked to pretend that his tea habit was healthier than my coffee habit, and thus plied me with it every chance he got. I’d mostly made the switch, but there was still nothing that could beat a strong dark roast before an exam.

"Take your pick."

Magnus laughed as he sorted through the tower of tea, choosing a mandarin orange green tea.

I handed him a cup, smiling at his choice. It was one of my favorites. I put the kettle on to boil and put a spearmint tea bag in a cup for Jem and an orange one in Magnus's cup as well as my own.

"Thank you, for taking care of Izzy and everything last night. I don't know if I said it." I was trying to make some sort of small talk. Silence was too awkward.

"It was no problem. Thank you for agreeing to help with my French, I know you're very busy."

I almost burst out laughing, but caught myself. As if I'd had a choice. Not that he knew that – or needed to know that.

"I'm already helping out Izzy. Besides, you seemed to need it."

He made a mock hurt face and I realized how rude what I'd said was. Good job Alec. Less than ten minutes in and you've already insulted him.

"I'm sorry- that didn't come out right. I just meant... you, um, you seemed-" he put a finger to my lips, halting my rambles and causing chills up my spine. He was smiling down at me, standing close enough for me to take in his vanilla and sandalwood scent (I may or may not have taken Izzy's incenses out the other day to verify the fragrance).

"You're so cute when you blush." He spoke softly.

I felt my cheeks heat even more, but I didn't have the strength, or desire, to break our stare.

An hour, a day, a second later the kettle began to whistle. I have no idea how many moments truly went by. All I know is that I could stare into those eyes forever and never want to stop.

We fixed our drinks without another word and I grabbed Izzy a cup of water before heading back into the den.

Izzy and Jem were now sitting in the two chairs, leaving the sofa for Magnus and me.

Great, they’re working together now, I thought begrudgingly. It was a little hurtful that they thought I needed both of their help to get a date.

Though, to be honest, if it were completely up to me it was highly unlikely I would have even seen him again, let alone have him sitting next to me in my, soon to be empty, apartment.

Speaking of which...

Jem left as soon as he finished with his tea. Izzy stayed through a chapter 4 vocabulary review and then said she had to leave as well, making apologies to Magnus for having to bail. He seemed unfazed; either he'd picked up on her deceitful acting after last night's performance and didn't mind, or he believed her and didn't mind. Either way, he looked almost happy to see her go.

And then we were alone…

Chapter Text

Alec POV:

"She's not very subtle is she?" Magnus asked as soon as the door closed behind Isabelle, turning to face me on the couch we were sharing. I ducked my head and laughed nervously.

"Uh no, not really. Sorry." I didn't know what else to say.

"Don't be. Now we're alone." The grin on his face told me he'd definitely figured out Izzy's game; and was more than willing to play it.

I, on the other hand, was beginning to feel the onset of an anxiety attack. What was it about this guy that got me so worked up? It wasn't like I'd never kissed someone before; granted, it had been a while since it'd happened last, but still. I shouldn't have been that nervous.

Jem was right: I was thinking too much.

I cleared my throat, trying to get a hold on my emotions.

The finely manicured hand now resting on my thigh was not helping.

Magnus was moving closer and I was frozen. I couldn't move, couldn't talk. That list of horrible outcomes just kept running over and over in my mind.

The smile slowly faded from Magnus's face and his perfect eyebrows furrowed.

"Are you alright? Look, we don't have to do anything if you don't want to." He removed his hand from my leg. I wanted to put it back, but I still couldn't remember how to move. "I just thought after last night and the kitchen, and with what Isabelle said, that this was what you wanted, but I'm guessing I read all of that wrong?" He looked confused and a little… sad? Disappointed? That couldn't be right. No one in their right mind would be disappointed to not be with me.

He scooted back over to the edge of the sofa and began flipping through the pages of his French textbook, his shoulders stiff and gaze determined.

The distance hurt, but it was also good. It helped my brain and body start functioning as a cohesive unit once more, emerging from their fog.

A few moments passed before I managed to get out, "you didn't," in the form of a loud whisper.

He looked up at me quizzically, a little startled at my breaking the silence.

"Read the situation wrong, that is. I just..." I took a breath. Come on Alec, you can do this. You want this. I avoided looking at him as I finished. "It's been awhile since I've been out with anybody and I just, I guess… I have this bad habit of, uh, overthinking things." I looked down at my bare feet sheepishly, just knowing that I'd blown my chance with that amazing, sexy man sitting next to me and now he probably now thought I was neurotic or something. Once I'd started talking though, I felt like I needed to explain myself to him until he understood, or said something at the very least. "It just felt really...fast, and it's not that I don't, because I do; like you, I mean. I do like you-"

"Alexander, darling, stop talking." Magnus's use of my whole name had cut off my words even before his soft index finger pressed against my lips, effectively putting an end to my rambling. My name had never sounded so beautiful, and he was smiling at me. Not angry or upset or freaked out, but smiling.

I tried to say I was sorry, but his hand was in the way so it just came out as a mumble. He leaned down and lightly, ever so lightly, brushed my cheek with his soft lips.

"Let's just focus on the French for now and see where that takes us, okay?" He removed his hand so I could reply.

"Okay," I said, nodding like a stupid bobble head. He gave my hand a quick squeeze then pulled his book onto his lap, handing me his study guide.

We sat cross-legged on the couch facing each other, knees touching, for the next hour. Every now and then he would take my hand in his, or place his hand on my knee, or even steal another quick kiss on my cheek.

"J'ai vingt-deux ans. Quel âge as-tu?" He asked me around four o’clock as part of our chapter practice. Answering and forming questions in a timely manner had been the most difficult thing for me to start with in 101, so that's what I’d focused on with Izzy and Magnus. They would need the skills when they moved on to the upper levels.

It was also a good way to find out basic information about him.

So he was 22, about three years older than me. That wasn't too bad of an age gap.

"J'ai dix-neuf ans." He raised his eyebrows.

"Really? Didn't you say you were in your third year here?"

"Yeah, I had a lot of credits from high school, and I graduated a year early. I'll be twenty soon," I said uncomfortably. I hated it when people made a big deal out of my accomplishments, so I tried to play them down as best I could. It just made me feel awkward and I never knew what to say.

"Wow, that's incredible. You remind me a bit of my friend Will. So much drive and determination. I wish I'd had some of that..."

"Having to support yourself at sixteen is a pretty good motivator to get started with life," I replied bitterly, before I could stop myself. I hadn't meant to mention that. I didn't bring up my past with anybody. It was none of their business and I really didn’t enjoy the judgment people generally felt entitled to when hearing about my life, but it'd slipped out before I had realized what I was saying; I just felt so comfortable talking to him.

"What happened?" He looked genuinely concerned and I couldn't help it. Looking into those emerald eyes made me feel safe, unjudged. Like, I could tell this man anything and he would understand. “I’m sorry, that was incredibly invasive, you don’t have to say anything if you’re not comfortable.”

“Uh, no, it’s fine,” I replied, because, somehow, it was. I wanted to tell him in spite of having known the guy for less than twenty four hours cumulatively. A small part of my brain accused me of trying to sabotage things before they could even happen, but that wasn’t it, not fully. Especially not once I started talking. I gave him a small, reassuring smile, and told him the shortened version of what had happened. I told him about my parents kicking me out because of the incident with my neighbor, and the fact that I only ever talk to them during the holidays and on birthdays when they feel like it's their good Christian duty to acknowledge my existence for long enough to remind me that I'm going to hell. I told him how they've never even seen my apartment or met my roommate because they assumed that just because I was living with a guy meant that I was living "in sin" with the guy, despite the fact that I told them otherwise every time it was brought up. I hadn’t intended to share so much, but it felt good to talk about it with someone, and Magnus was a good listener. He gave me his full attention, intertwining our fingers as I spoke and, thankfully, pretending not to notice when I had a difficult time keeping my voice completely steady talking about the party my parents had thrown Isabelle when she'd gotten her own place for the semester.

When I was done talking I felt like even more of an idiot than I had about freezing up earlier.

"Was the kiss at least worth it? With your neighbor?" He asked after my silence.  

I laughed.

Of all of the reactions I had been expecting (dreading), Magnus somehow managed to do the unexpected. I felt my tension level ease down a notch.

"I wasn’t really expecting it, so I mostly just remember the feeling of surprise over anything else. So I guess that's a no. Is any kiss really that memorable though, they’re basically all the same," I shrugged and he looked at me with a mixture of pity and awe.

"Hopefully someday I can change your mind about that. If you'd want..." He spoke calmly. Trying to make sure I didn't freak out again I'm sure, but there was a spark in his eyes.

I wasn't freaking out. I wanted him. Wanted to touch him, kiss him, feel his body pressed against mine. All the things I'd been fantasizing about since Wednesday came flooding into my mind.

Before I knew what was happening I was leaning forward, closing the little bit of space left between us and pressing my mouth to his. He responded instantaneously, his own soft lips fitting perfectly against mine. 

So this is what it's supposed to feel like. 

He didn't seem to mind that I had kissed him without any warning. After a moment, his hand grasped the base of my neck, pulling me harder to his mouth, tips of his fingers entangling in my hair.

I had a brief moment of panic thinking about my own hands and what I was supposed to be doing with them. Should I touch his face? Place them around his waist? Neck?

Magnus brought my mind back into the moment when he nibbled my bottom lip, pulling from me an involuntary half moan, half whimper.

My brain didn't have the capacity to analyze and experience at the same time, so I chose to put my effort into the more enjoyable of my options; focusing on how his tongue felt sliding between my lips, brushing my own with its wet warmth. I moaned into his mouth again when he tightened his grip on my hair.

I had never thought I'd like that very much, my hair being pulled, but it ignited something inside of me, making my entire body tingle.

My hands eventually found their way; the first moving to rest on his hip, the second reaching for his tie, pulling gently while leaning back onto the couch. He needed no further encouragement. Our bodies pressed together as he lay on top of me, our legs intertwined. One of his arms supported his weight while the other continued to drive me crazy knotted in my messy hair. I untied the piece of silk around his neck and tossed it aside, my fingers deftly working to unbutton his shirt. I had finished unbuttoning and was pushing the fabric away, exploring the smooth surface of his chest when the non-reptilian part of my brain turned back on.

What the hell am I doing? 

If we hadn't been moving too fast before, we certainly were now.

He sat up a bit, just enough for himself to remove his shirt and waistcoat and for me to tug my tee shirt over my head and toss it across the room, then he was on me again. Our skin pressed together; he felt cool compared to the heat of my own body and I desperately wanted to be closer, to feel as much of him as was possible. His lips left mine and began to trace the line of my jaw, chasing all thoughts of slowing down out of my head temporarily. I gasped and arched off the couch slightly, pressing our hips closer together as I felt his teeth on my neck. He'd bitten me, hard, and was flicking his tongue against the spot rapidly. It had been painful for a split second, but after that, it just felt amazing. He moaned at the pressure of our closer contact and bit me again; this time lower, just passed my collarbone. There would likely be a mark there tomorrow, but I didn't care. I slid one of my hands into his hair, encouraging him to continue with the kissing and biting, the other hand was flirting with the waistline of his jeans, fighting with my logic about just of how far I wanted to take this.

We barely knew each other, and here I was, half-naked underneath (an also half-naked) Magnus, making out with him as if it were our last night on earth.

With no small amount of effort, I forced myself to keep my hands above his waist and decided that as long as he did the same, this could go on all night.

There was no harm in making out right? We were both consenting adults. Besides, that was what college was for – at least according to Izzy.

A few minutes (I think; it could've been ages for all I knew. Being around Magnus completely threw off my concept of time) went past and his lips were on mine again, his hand sliding down my torso, softly caressing every curve and dip of my body. I flinched when his hand got dangerously close to the button on my pants and I managed to pull back, breaking our kiss when I felt him start on the zipper. He immediately stopped, bringing his hand to my side once again.

"Too fast?" He asked, a little breathless. My eyes were closed, and I didn't want to open them to see the look of disappointment on his face. His thumb brushed tenderly across my cheek. "Hey." It was a request for me to look at him, and it was said so much in earnest that I couldn't stop myself from doing just that, even though I knew it was going to hurt, but when I looked up into those catlike eyes of his all I saw was concern. Maybe Magnus was good at hiding it, but I couldn't see a hint of frustration or annoyance in the way he was looking at me. His implicit respect and understanding for my personal boundaries was so shocking to me that I almost laughed.

It wasn’t a reaction I was used to experiencing.

Ever.

I smiled up at him, tracing his bottom lip with my index finger. It was pink and swollen from all of the kissing, making him look even more attractive.

If that was even possible.

"A little," I answered, self-conscious. "Can we just, stick to what we've been doing for a little while?" I bit my lip (which was a little sore from all the sucking and biting Magnus had been doing to it); waiting for a change in his expression or some other sign to tell me that I'd given him more credit than was due. Instead, he simply smiled back and kissed me softly.

"My pleasure," he whispered on my lips. A shiver ran through my body and we picked up where we'd left off. 

Chapter Text

Magnus POV:

I was walking on air when I left Alec's place. We'd spent ages on his couch making out and we had a date for Wednesday night after my class let out. A real date involving just the two of us, no more set ups or games; we were both firmly on the same page.

I must’ve not been the only one with half a week of pent up anticipation and sexual frustration, because by the time our frantic kisses turned lazy and languid, it was dark outside and it was nearing seven.

As completely cheesy and clichéd as it was, after we stopped kissing we just laid there on the sofa, side by side, staring into each other's eyes and talking softly into the quiet of the apartment. Alec had an adorable habit when he felt embarrassed of hiding his face against whatever surface was close and suitable – a pillow, the crook of his arm, or, more often than not, my shoulder. Which, it turned out, was close to half of our conversation.

I couldn’t say I minded too terribly.

I enjoyed having him curled up against me, warm breath ghosting over the skin of my shoulder, even if it was just because he was hiding. At least he wasn’t running away anymore, and he was talking, embarrassed or not. That counted as progress in my book.

"Hopefully some of that will be more memorable than your previous, inferior, experiences." I teased him after we mostly got our breathing and pulses under control, referring to his earlier (tragic) confession that none of his past kissing partner's techniques had ever made an impression on his memory.

His pale skin was already a delightful shade of rose due to our activities, but I had a feeling the heat I could feel in his cheeks as he nuzzled up against me had nothing to do with that and everything to do with my words.

That really shouldn’t have been as endearing as it was.

"I'm pretty sure I won't be forgetting any of that for a long time." I heard him say, slightly muffled. I laughed, surprising myself with how much his approval meant to me.

He took a breath in and paused, as if he wanted to say something else, but wasn't sure how to phrase it. I had an idea of what was likely going through his anxious mind, so I took mercy on him.

"Me either," I replied, softly against his skin. It was a reassurance, but definitely not a lie. It was certainly going to be a long time before I forgot that hungry, uncertain, determined look on his face when he'd leaned across the couch to kiss me. And I was positive my mind would be replaying everything that followed for a very long time; especially the way he pulled me on top of him and unbuttoned my shirt, all nervousness and hesitance lost in the moment. I would be dreaming of the way his body actually felt against mine (as opposed to my recent dreams that had been purely imagination, and not done justice to him at that) until I had the glorious chance to feel it again.

The feeling of his mouth curving into a smile against my chest was almost too much to handle. My heart fluttered in my chest and I had an urgent need to have that perfect mouth on mine again.

This was how the next half hour progressed; about a two minute conversation during which one of us would say or do something that made the other want to kiss him and then we would be at it again for at least as long as we had talked. I could've gone on like that all night, but just as I was gently scraping my nails across Alec's hip, making him breathe raggedly against my mouth, a siren alarm went off. I jumped and pulled my hand back; he looked up at me and laughed, reaching into his pocket for his phone.

"I really should change that ringtone..." he muttered, replying to the text message. “Jem's on his way back. We should probably," 'take this to the bedroom' were the words I wanted to hear, but sadly, "call it a night," was what escaped from those luscious lips.

"I suppose." I tried not to sound too disappointed, but I don't think it worked because he laughed again and kissed me briefly before placing his head on my shoulder once more. His breath was warm on my neck.

"We should, go out sometime. Like, to dinner or something..."

Shy was not a trait I usually went for, and yet… I found myself smiling at his fumbled words.

"Why Alexander, are you asking me out on a date?" I couldn't help but tease.

"I guess." he shrugged.

"Well try not to sound so enthusiastic about it..." I said, unimpressed. The shyness was cute, to a point, but I'd put a lot of effort into getting us this far, he was going to have to do some work too. "Ask for what you want or you won't get it," I said, matter-of-fact.

He sighed and then, removing his face from my neck, kissed me deeply and without warning.

I had half a mind to push him away and tell him that that wasn't exactly how you ask for things, but thought better of it. Honestly, he could ask me for almost anything that way.

After about a minute, he pulled away, keeping his face close and arm tight around my neck.

"Magnus Bane, will you go on a date with me?" I was impressed with his sudden ability to look me in the eye the entire time he spoke. Kissing me was obviously a good confidence builder.

"I thought you'd never ask." I smiled and place my lips against his once more. The kissing only lasted a couple of minutes though, because his phone went off again, ruining the mood, again.

"I should probably find my shirt; Jem will be here any minute," he said after we broke apart. I pouted a little, but relented. We had fun today today and I didn't want to push him too much further if he wasn't comfortable. I sat up and quickly did the buttons up on my shirt while he went across the room to grab his and put it back on.

"When are you free, for our date, I mean." He asked me while I packed up my things. He was trying to sound nonchalant, but there was a hint of nervousness behind his words, in spite of the fact that I had already agreed to go out with him. It was as if he thought now that we were standing and fully clothed I would change my mind about the situation.

I had absolutely no intention of doing so. Instead, I riffled through my mental calendar to figure out a time I was free in the upcoming week.

"I have a test Tuesday morning that I really should spend Monday studying for, and I work Tuesday night. I'm free after 640 on Wednesday though."

"Wednesday's perfect." My insides melted at the look of sheer relieved happiness on his face. "Oh, uh we should probably exchange phone numbers, in case something comes up or-"

"In case I can't make it until Wednesday without hearing your gorgeous voice?" I interrupted. It was very likely to be the case.

He looked away and got out his phone quickly, fumbling with it before unlocking it and handing it to me to type in my information.

And that was when I remembered that I already had his number in my phone. If he went to type it in, it would pop up; along with the affectionate nickname I'd given him.

I added myself to his contact list and handed the phone back to him.

"Do you not want my number?" He asked, confused.

"I, uh, already have it." His eyebrows raised in surprise, before a look of annoyance appeared.

"Let me guess, Izzy?"

Good, he was annoyed with her, not me. Still... I couldn't exactly lie and say she'd given it to me, because then he would yell at her and she would deny it. Did he need to know just how much effort I'd put into seeing him again?

Probably not.

"Let's just say a little birdie gave it to me and leave it at that." He looked as if he was about to pry some more, but luckily the door opened just then and his roommate interrupted whatever thoughts he'd been having.

"Hey Jem," Alec said, his cheeks instantly turning a bright carnation pink while the rest of his face and neck worked to catch up.

"Hey, I wasn't expecting you to be in here..." Jem said awkwardly, fiddling with the collar of his shirt as he closed the door, and looked back at his friend. Or rather, looked around his friend. Neither of the two men was looking at the other. "I wasn't interrupting anything was I? Because I can leave again-"

"No, no, I was just about to head out myself." I chimed in, unusually affected by the heavy awkwardness in the room. Typically, I'm the tension breaker since I have almost no sense of shame whatsoever, but this was getting very uncomfortable very fast. They both looked like a child caught with their hand in the cookie jar. I didn't know what Jem's problem was, but I hoped Alec wasn't going to start regretting our relationship before it even had a chance to actually become one. I told myself it was just his shyness since Jem knew, or at the very least had a very good idea about, what we'd spent the last two hours doing.

I gave Alec a little kiss on the cheek and nodded to Jem as I headed out the door, leaving them to their avoiding stares and silence.

When I got home Will was sitting on the sofa taking his shoes off, looking pleased with himself.

"You're back kind of late aren't you?" I asked, looking at my watch. It was almost eight. His shift usually ended by five.

"I had some back paperwork to file and then I stopped to get a bite to eat." Something about the way he answered made me suspicious. It sounded rehearsed.

"So how was your play date?" He changed the subject before I could focus on the possibility of deceit, getting up to follow me into the kitchen.

I was starving! Making out for hours involved a lot of calorie burning and on top of that, I had barely eaten any lunch.

"In a word: marvelous." I opened the fridge and searched for something quick and easy to cook, deciding pizza toast was obviously the best option.

"Spill. I want details, not single adjectives." Will hopped up on the counter, perched like a curious cat. My actual cat was standing beneath him, staring up longingly as if to say "why are you allowed to sit up there but I'm not?" Will grabbed the bag of treats out of the cabinet by his head and tossed some to Chairman Meow, one at a time making the little white fluff-ball run across the kitchen floor to get them. He loved to torture my baby with 'exercise', as he called it. "Do you finally succeed in kissing him?"

My lips curved into a wide grin involuntarily, answering Will's question.

"Aaaannnndddd? Was it worth the hype or did I waste my evening helping you out for nothing?" He was practically bouncing on the countertop.

I pulled the bread, cheese, and pepperonis out of the fridge and set them on an unoccupied section of counter, taking my time to answer.

"It was incredible. Definitely better than I'd imagined. I could tell he was pretty inexperienced, but not in a bad way, you know? In that sort of eager to please and figure out what I like, way." I laid the slices of bread out on a cookie sheet and started slathering them with pizza sauce.

"And did he?" Will inquired, wiggling his eyebrows at me suggestively.

I closed my eyes and sighed at the memory. "Oh yes."

Will laughed and I finished making my pizza creations, sliding them into the oven and setting the timer.

While the stove timer's 15 minutes counted down, I gave Will all the sordid details of my tutoring session, leaving out the personal conversation topics and sticking to the important bits, like how amazing Alec looked without a shirt on.

"And you should see those tattoos, mmm..." I told him as I pulled the delicious creations out of the oven. Will leaned passed me to grab a slice (even though he'd just told me he'd gotten dinner before coming home), and I got a whiff of cologne.

"Who do you smell like?" I asked suspiciously, brows knitted in concentration. I knew I'd smelled it before, but I couldn't place it.

"Abercrombie and Fitch... Same thing I've smelled like since I was fourteen." It was true, I could smell that ever familiar Fierce on him, same as he'd always had since the day he started wearing cologne. He credited that fragrance with getting him his first kiss, his first girlfriend, his first boyfriend when he'd decided to expand his horizons, and the loss of his virginity. I think he gives the expensive little bottle too much credit (he is decently attractive on his own, after all), but I couldn't deny that it smelled good.

That's not all I detected on him tonight though.

"I know that one. What I'm asking is who does that spicy scent belong to?"

Will pulled at his collar absentmindedly and shrugged. He shouldn't have done that, because he pulled the neck of his shirt down just enough for me to see the round, pinkish bruise that was forming on his collarbone.

"Oh, uh, it's probably something one of my patients wears. We work pretty closely you know; it probably just rubbed off on me or something."

"Was it the same patient that left that hickey on your neck? Cuz I'm pretty sure that's not part of your job description." I laughed as his hand flew up to his throat.

"That's not a hickey. It's just some bruise I got earlier; I need more iron in my diet."

"Uh huh, a bruise shaped like someone's mouth..." I pulled at his shirt to get a better look at the mark. "William, are you hiding something from me?"

He swatted my hand away, almost falling off the counter in his retreat.

"Hey, didn't you say you were going to wear a tie today?" He asked out of nowhere. I paused momentarily, distracted by my thoughts of Alexander taking it off of me and unbuttoning my shirt. I must've forgotten to put it back on...

Dammit.

Will used my temporary pause to run out of the room, shouting "I'm going to bed."

"It's not even nine yet!" I yelled back, running to catch him.

"I'm tired," was the response through the door that was so rudely slammed in my face.

I snorted. "I'll bet you are," I shouted back, laughing.

"Leave me alone!" I heard his door lock and loud music being turned on.

I would find out whom he was hiding from me, but I'd give him the evening. Besides, I wanted to bask in my glorious memories for a night.

After finishing my dinner and showering, I cuddled up in bed with Chairman Meow and my laptop. The plan was to get a head start on a paper for my journalism class. I managed just over a page before boredom got the better of me and I checked my phone.

I had a message from Blue Eyes time stamped 8:35 PM. My eyes went immediately to my phone clock. 10:04 PM. I'd had a text from him for OVER AN HOUR and I’d been wasting my time on that stupid paper instead of talking to him?! I made a mental note to check my phone more often in the future.

I opened the message and smiled at its contents.

Hey, it's Alec. Uh, Jem found your tie under the coffee table... I didn't even notice you didn't have it on when you left.

Well that must've helped add to the awkwardness floating around in that room when I left.

Sorry about that. I didn't notice until my roommate pointed it out either. Guess my mind was on other things... ;)

I had enough time to think I wonder if he's still awake, when my phone vibrated. 

That would be a yes.

It's okay. You know, you don't have to intentionally leave things over here; we're definitely going to see each other again.

Apparently he just needed to not be looking at my face in order to be confident. I could work with that.

Yes, but now I have a guarantee, whether you like it or not.

I think we both know that I like it. He replied almost instantly and it made me smile; no matter how confident you are, it never hurts to have the object of you affection make it 100% clear that they like you back. Not only like you, but want to see you again.

I don't know... Maybe you were just faking it to humor me. I couldn't help but taunt him, I loved hearing (or, reading rather, as it was a text message) him say it.

Ha, trust me when I say Izzy got all the acting genes in this family

And there are some things I can't fake on command.

I could just sense him blushing through the phone when he sent that.

Good. I like the effect I have on you :)

I do too ;)

I grinned widely at his words. Alec had a way of making things feel new and exciting, and I couldn't wait to see him again. I was even a little nervous about it, which never happened to me, not for a long time. I had learned back in high school that playing hard to get and acting uninterested in where things went worked for me – generally, because I was uninterested. But with Alec...

I can't wait to see you again.

"How desperate does that sound?" I chided aloud to the Chairman after I'd hit send.

A minute passed.

Then two.

"Good job Magnus. Way to be needy." The Chairman gave me a reassuring lick on the hand and I scratched between his ears as a thank you for being such a supportive friend.

At the four-minute mark, my phone vibrated once more and I eagerly opened the message.

Oh gods. 

He'd sent me a photo with the sarcastic caption: better?

I replied a bit just in case it earned me another photograph, but it was in fact, the opposite. That shy smile, tousled hair, and those sleepy blues eyes made me ache for him even more than I’d been before. I wanted that plump bottom lip between mine to nibble; wanted to trace my fingers over those enigmatic markings that covered his exposed shoulders in that black tank top that made the paleness of his skin stand out even more.

You look delicious. I added before he'd replied again. Fuck it, no point in hiding how smitten I was. Especially not since I'd told him earlier that he needed to ask for what he wanted. Sometimes you need to take your own advice. Besides, it would be criminal to not indulge him in that mood. It was incredibly sexy. I showed the picture to the Chairman and he mewed in approval. The cat's got good taste.

You are delicious. Came the reply. How unexpectedly forward of him. I was tempted to see how far he would go with this particular medium of communication, but I did actually have assignments to finish, and it would be much more difficult to keep things slow in person if we were moving at light-speed digitally. 

As are you my darling :) Now you must stop distracting me, as I have a paper that needs writing and the ideas you are giving me fit best on the pages of a Harlequin romance novel, not a journalism paper...

It was almost painful to voluntarily stop our conversation. Alec was quickly becoming a fix I couldn't get enough of.

It's probably for the best. I'll let you get back to work. 

Shit. I hated texting with people I didn't know that well. Was he upset? Angry? Or was he just usually this glib? I had no idea, but I didn't want to leave it on a low note, not when we'd started out so high. 

I will be counting the minutes until I get to see your gorgeous face in person again.

Minutes passed and i again wondered if I'd scared him off.  

Another picture message popped up, this one a bit more goofy, the expression on Alec's face that of a confused puppy dog. It was followed by a text. 

Since you seem to have already forgotten what my face looks like, here's a reminder. 

I smiled, pleasantly surprised by him for what felt like the thousandth time that day. What was I getting myself into? 

Just as gorgeous as I remember it, but do feel free to continue sending me reminders. I can't seem to recall what that chest of yours looks like...

Magnus. 

Alexander. 

Can't blame a guy for trying. 

You should be writing. He chided. He was right, but I was still disappointed to be done with our conversation so soon. 

I am ;)  

I'm officially ending this conversation; now get off your phone and finish that paper! 

Yes sir, professor Lightwood. Good night darling. 

Good night, Magnus. 

I got up and plugged my phone in across the room to curb temptation, then got stuck into my stupid assignment. And if there was a lingering smile on my face the entire time, well, nobody could prove it. 

Chapter Text

Jem's POV:

I arrived at the hospital a little earlier than I'd meant to, having left the apartment as soon as I'd finished enough of my tea to make it look like I'd actually wanted it. I'd only asked Alec to get it for me so I would have an excuse to get his crush and him alone in the kitchen while Isabelle and I changed up the seating arrangements. The plan had been for me to suggest Magnus go into the kitchen a pick a beverage rather than Alec list them all off, but turns out he didn't need my help after all.

Isabelle looked bored to pieces when I left and I had to assume she wouldn't be long in following me out. I was happy for Alec. He'd shut himself off so finally after that bastard Sebastian that I wouldn't have been surprised to see him single for years more. It was understandable - unhealthy, but understandable. Magnus seemed like he would be good for Alec, even if he wasn't Alec's type at all. Not that I was anyone to judge. The heart wants what it wants.

At the moment mine was longing for a certain tall, dark, and handsome nurse who was filling in as a PT aide due to staffing shortages.

It was foolish to harbor fantasies about something happening between us, intellectually I knew that, but I couldn't stop myself. It wasn't as if he was making it easy, either. He was constantly flirting and joking around; I had to keep reminding myself that it was probably just the kind of person he was and he didn't mean anything by it.

He was just so attractive. Physically, he reminded me of Alec a bit: black hair, blue eyes, sharp features. He was very fit, and tall. But that's where the similarities ended. His attitude and personality were so... addicting. He was confident (read: cocky) and sarcastic and I was positive he didn't have a modest bone in his body. He was also honest, even in times when others might have told white lies to make the situation seem better; he told it like it was, no matter what. I admired that in both a health care worker and a person.

I walked into the hospital and took the elevator to the third floor where my appointment was. The physical therapy that was part of my treatment was not like typical PT, and I would usually just skip most of my appointments - up until a few weeks ago when I'd been assigned a new instructor and actually had a reason to go. A reason named Will Herondale. 

It wasn't like I was recovering from any traumatic accident or anything, the doctors just wanted to make sure that I did regular exercises that would keep my muscles strong since my illness could cause deterioration. They preferred me to come to the hospital for that instead of an actual gym in case I had some sort of medical emergency that needed immediate attention. Something that my PT trainers in the past hadn't seemed to understand. They would always try to put me through some cut-and-paste routines that clearly were not for someone in the shape I am in.

Working with Will had been different though. He’d paid attention to my chart and at first, he’d mostly just left me alone to work out as I pleased, helping if I needed a spotter or something. That was until a week and a half ago when he noticed me going through some Tai Chi moves. He said he was into the art as well and asked if he could practice and learn from me. I was his only patient since he wasn't really qualified to work with the people who needed more hands on help, and was only there for a few hours at the end of his normal shift every day.

I, of course, said yes, and since then we’d practiced together my last four appointments – the most recent of which ended in drinks at the pub down the road and a lot of flirting. Rationally, my mind wrote off his flirting as being brought on by the beers and exercise high, but a part of me wondered if that was really the case. It didn't seem at all logical for a man who looked as amazing as he did to be wasting time on someone like me. I who, despite all of my protest against other people saying it, was frail and sick, and unlikely to ever be otherwise.

I shook my head to clear the unwelcome thoughts. No good came from going down that road.

I instead turned my attention back to the present, then silently cursed myself for being early when I realized that if he was still doing his nursing rounds and not here yet all of my time spent getting ready with Isabelle would have been for nothing. I crossed my fingers as the elevator dinged and I stepped off, walking ever so slowly to the east wing.

I needn't have bothered. Will was already over in the open floor space area where we practiced, doing some warm up stretches.

My God he looks good.

I couldn't help but stare. He was in loose black workout pants and a skin tight gray shirt. His muscles glistened with a light sheen of sweat, indicating that he'd been there for a least a little while.

He looked over to me where I stood staring and smiled widely, his eyes bright like the starry night sky.

"Jem!" He waved me over and I luckily remembered how not to trip over my own two feet.

"Hello, Will." I returned the smile and tried not to become self-conscious as he, quite obviously, looked me up and down.

"Lookin' good. Hot date, or did you get all dressed up on my behalf?"

I laughed at his bluntness.

"Neither. My roommate's sister came over this morning and decided to play dress up. …Unless you want to ditch our session and go grab some lunch. Then it would be both." There was something about Will's cockiness that was infectious and I played off of it easily.

"Well, she is to be commended on her fine work. And you can have a meal once you've earned it; now go get changed so we can work up an appetite." He winked at me before turning to go back to his stretches.

Did I just ask him out? I thought in awe of myself as I headed towards the patient locker rooms. And did he just accept?! I distractedly changed my clothes and made my way back to Will, uncertain about what I'd just done, but in no way regretting it.

Will's POV:

I was finding it extremely difficult to concentrate on our workout. It was the way Jem had looked, so self-assured when he made that offhanded lunch remark. I was sure he was just playing on the friendly drinks we had the other night, but still... How could I pass up a chance to go out with him again and see if I could make something out of it?

It was probably a bad idea. Okay, it was a really bad idea, dating a patient, but technically I was just filling in there. I hardly had any real medical responsibility for him, unless he passed out or went into cardiac arrest while we were working out, and truthfully, as a nurse, I had that responsibility for everyone.

It was hard sometimes to remember that Jem was actually ill. Aside from being a bit too thin for his frame and the premature silver streak in his hair brought on by stress, it was barely noticeable. He certainly didn't act ill, and I found his looks to be more charming than anything else. His hair was distinguished and his body, though frail, held a graceful strength that was especially noticeable when he went through the slow, fluid motions of Tai Chi.

I'd been mesmerized by the way he looked the first time I saw him doing it; so much so that he'd caught me staring and I had to make up an excuse about loving the art since I was a kid and wanting to learn it, asking him to show me some things. Once we’d started, I’d found that I really did enjoy it. More so whenever I was doing something wrong and he would have to correct me.

As happened to be the case only a few minutes into our session today. My mind just didn’t want to focus on the movements.

"Will, your posture is horrible; you're going to strain something," Jem reprimanded. He came up behind me and placed both hands flat on my back, one above the other on my spine. "You're too tense. Take some deep breaths and let your back rest against my hands. Adjust your posture until you feel my palms."

Yeah, this was not helping with the kind of tension I was feeling. I was starting to regret not taking him up on his offer to ditch this and go straight to lunch.

I tried to follow his orders though. Closing my eyes, I took a deep breath, enjoying the way his cologne mixed with the smell of his perspiration. I relaxed a bit and felt my spine curve into his strong hands, the heat of his touch radiating through my body from the contact point.

"Much better." When he spoke I felt his hot breath on my neck and my body tensed again. "Or not..." He chuckled throatily and I wanted desperately to lean back into him until our bodies were touching and his arms were around me.

Get a grip, Herondale.

"You're distracting me too much today; we should do something else," I quipped, breaking our contact by turning to face him.

"I'm distracting you?" He demanded incredulously.

"Yes. You purposefully came here today all dressed up and smelling great to throw me off so you could be better than me."

He laughed so hard for a minute that I thought he was going to need CPR.

"Trust me; I don't have to resort to distraction for me to be better at this than you. It's nothing to be ashamed of," he added when I opened my mouth to complain, "I've just been at it a lot longer than you. I'm sure there are plenty of things you're better at than me." He spoke as if he were reassuring a child and placed his hand on my shoulder.

"Probably a very long list of things actually." I removed his hand and crossed my arms. He tried to hide a smile as I did.

"Not that long I'm sure, but there have to be a few I suppose. Everyone has their strengths, and weaknesses." He executed a particularly difficult balancing move and I felt the childish urge to start tickling him so that he'd get off balanced.

Alright, fine. Two could play at that game.

Twenty minutes later I found myself sweaty and out of breath as I dodged the lightning fast strikes of my supposedly extremely ill and infirmed sparring partner. I wasn't entirely sure how it started, but one thing had led to another and the verbal sparring had turned physical. I'd held back a lot at first, thinking I might hurt him if I didn't, but I soon realized that if I didn't start to put some effort in he was going to hurt me.

I attempted a combat roll in avoidance, realizing too late that my move had been anticipated. Jem's leg intercepted mine, throwing me off balance, and causing me to land with a thud on my back. Jem laughed and in his moment of distraction, I caught him by the waist and wrestled him down to the mat, straddling him to keep him in place.

"Who's better now?" I demanded, forearm against his neck. Jem just gave me a look that made me acutely aware of just how much of our bodies were touching and before I knew it, I was being flipped over onto my back in my distraction with Jem on top of me, pressing my wrists into the floor.

For such gentle hands, they sure did have a tight grip.

I struggled to no avail and quickly stopped when I realized the only thing it was having an effect on was my libido.

"I'd say we're about even. How about you?" He face was inches from mine and I could see tiny beads of sweat forming on his pallid skin, making it glisten. We were both breathing hard, our bodies heaving to the same rhythm.

"I’d say, we should go grab that bite to eat." I smiled up at him and he released my hands, climbing off of me.

"Sounds good. I think I've earned it." He grinned at me, lending a hand to help me off the floor.

"Definitely. Meet you outside in twenty?"

"Yeah, sure."

I headed off in the direction of the staff locker rooms to get showered quickly and change back into my normal clothes. This certainly hadn't been how I was expecting this day to go, but I had no complaints so far. There was just that tiny voice in the back of my head that kept reminding me that it's a bad idea to get involved with someone I work with, and an even worse idea to get involved with a patient.

I chose to ignore that sensible voice for the time being.

Jem walked outside moments after I did. His hair was still slightly damp, giving it a darker appearance, bringing out the brightness of his eyes.

"Where to?" He asked when he spotted me.

"Same place as before?" I replied to his question with a question.

"Sure."

We walked off in the direction of the restaurant we had drinks at a few days ago. It was an old-fashioned Irish pub that looked like it had seen better days, but had the best food and atmosphere of anything in the area. The walls were covered with classic advertisements for Irish beers and every free piece of wall behind the bar had police patches on it. Many of the regulars were cops and one of the owners was a retired police captain for the city.

I was glad for the warmth of the pub, as I'd left my jacket in my truck, not expecting to need it, and the thin fabric of my t-shirt was no match for the unusually cold September wind. We grabbed a small table in the back corner (my regular spot) and placed our orders.

Nothing like fried food and beer after a workout.

I had the brief thought that perhaps I should stop lecturing Magnus about his eating habits as I took a long sip from my Smithwick's.

"That was probably the most fun I've had at that hospital...ever," Jem told me after the server left. He took a long sip of the more sensible unsweet tea he'd chosen to accompany his not-so-sensible dinner order.

"Me too, come to think of it."

"What made you decide to become a nurse?" Jem asked, making conversation. Last time we'd mostly talked about current events and the other hospital staff.

"Good pay and high job prospects with a minimal amount of time at school compared to other careers," I shrugged, answering honestly.

"That was not the honorable bullshit answer I was expecting," Jem noted with a snicker.

"Oh, don't get me wrong. I also do it to save the babies." This response earned an all-out laugh from him. I tried not to stare at the way it lit up his entire face and made his eyes shine with mirth. 

"Don't you think you'd need to work, oh I don't know, somewhere near pediatrics to achieve that goal? Possibly on the same floor, at the very least?"

"Hmm... hadn't thought of that. Perhaps I'll just stick to spending my afternoons with attractive men who try to beat me up." I winked at him, causing a little color to rush to those pale cheeks.

He regained his composure quickly though.

"Try? You must be referring to your afternoons with other attractive men, because there was no try. I did beat you up." It was my turn to loudly guffaw, earning us a few stares from the customers at the bar.

"It was a tie," I pouted, unwilling to give in.

"If that's what helps you sleep at night, we can call it a tie. Though, if I hadn't let you up, you would've been helpless beneath me for as long as I wanted." I knew that he hadn't meant that AT ALL the way it sounded, because his brain seemed to process the double meaning about a second after mine. I watched the flush of his cheeks from before turn darker and spread to his ears. It was adorable and intoxicating.

I leaned forward a bit and raised an eyebrow at him. "Was that a proposition or a challenge? Because, either way sounds too good to turn down." I bit my lower lip at the end of the sentence and watched a multitude of emotions cross Jem's face in about a second.

I had a brief moment of panic thinking that maybe I'd taken it a little too far this time, when he recovered and replied. "Perhaps not the best dinner activity; that's better suited for less public venues, wouldn't you agree?"

"Yes, I suppose I would."

I laughed and leaned back in my seat. Bantering back and forth with Jem was fun. It was easy, like joking around with Magnus or Jace, but much more suggestive and a little exciting/terrifying. Jem had the most convincing dead pan of anyone I'd ever talked to, and there were plenty of times I wasn't sure whether he was joking or not. There were also plenty of times, like right now, that I hoped it was the latter.

Our food came just then, providing a change of atmosphere and conversational topic. We chatted about his job and studies, and I told him a little about Jace and Cecy while we munched away at our guilty pleasures: fish and chips, fried to a golden perfection.

"I just don't understand," I said waving my fork around as I spoke, "how you handle a premed course load and work and all the hospital stuff. I mean, I had a lot on my plate for a couple years trying to get out of my aunt and uncle's house right after high school, but I knew it was short term. Yours is just going to get worse once you sign on for med school!"

"Have you ever thought about going into counseling? You're really great at pep talks," he gibed, putting his napkin on his now empty plate. "The course work isn't that hard, there's just a lot of it. And honestly, I barely work at all. My parents still insist on paying for most of my things. I think they feel like they ran me out of the house, so it's still their responsibility to make sure I'm taken care of. And the hospital stuff, well, if it gets in the way I just don't go. Simple as that." He shrugged at the end of his explanation.

"Well, as one of your healthcare providers, I really must advise you to change your attitude about that last part." Hearing people talk about things like skipping doctor's visits or not finishing their prescriptions always made me want to slip into lecturing RN mode.

"I don't skip the important things, just the extracurricular, overly paranoid parts. Like having me work out there instead of at a gym."

I wanted to argue that it wasn't overly paranoid, it was cautious, but instead I decided the Will approach would probably work better than the Nurse Herondale one would.

"Yes, but the hospital gym has something that no other one does." I said, matter-of-fact. Jem raised his eyebrows, questioning.

"And that would be...?"

"Me," I exclaimed, adding a 'duh' face to emphasize my point.

"Hmm, well, I've never missed one of our appointments have I?"

I thought about it and shook my head.

"Not yet. And you'd better not, or I would be forced to come find you," I told him sternly.

"But what if I had a really good excuse?"

"There is no excuse good enough to warrant standing up my magnificent self." We were both laughing when the server came to pick up our plates and bring us the check.

Walking back to the parking garage I had the strong urge to grab ahold of the hand that periodically brushed against mine, but the nagging voice in the back of my mind was still doing its best to convince me that I needed to end this before it started. I was so caught up in my battling thoughts that I almost jumped when Jem's voice broke the silence.

"Will, are you even listening to me?" He was leaning against what I assume was his car, with his arms crossed.

"What?"

"That would be a 'no'." He rolled his eyes at me and I rubbed the back of my neck, looking at him sheepishly.

"Sorry, I must've zoned out there for a minute."

"Well that says a lot for my company," he retorted. I immediately felt bad, even though there was clearly sarcasm lacing his words.

"You're exceptional company." That sensible, responsible part of my brain was quickly losing the battle.

Jem smiled and I felt myself moving further away from the land of reason, and closer to him.

"You're not so bad yourself."

"Psh, I am extraordinary company. Trust me, I know, I see me all the time. You just haven't experienced the full effects of my amazing presence yet."

Dammit. I was really bad at this whole not flirting thing.

"And what exactly is there left to experience?" There was a challenge in his eyes when he spoke and I knew that if I had any intention of not letting this go any further I needed to walk away now.

I closed the distance between us, leaving just enough room that we weren't actually touching, and looked down upon his beautiful, open face.

"More than you could possibly imagine." I placed a finger under his chin to tilt it upwards and met his slightly parted lips with my own; softly at first, just in case I'd taken our flirtatious bantering too far, then with more need when I was met by no resistance. His soft lips opened, granting my tongue permission to taste.

Gentle fingers slid under the hem of my shirt to caress the musculature of my lower back and stomach, tracing and teasing and making me moan into our kiss. I felt his lips curve into a smile against my mouth and I tensed a little, suddenly aware of just how much of an effect he was having on my anatomy.

Jem's mouth left mine and replaced itself on the soft flesh of my neck, just below my jaw. I tilted my head to give him better access, my hands sliding down his body to rest on his prominent hip bones while his changed position to caress my biceps. Our bodies worked well together, like our sparring match earlier; every movement was anticipated and reciprocated as if we'd rehearsed. Every time I thought to stop the sucking and light nibbling that was driving me crazy, because it was probably going to leave a mark, he would change position, making his way further down my throat, pulling at the neck of my t-shirt as he did. When he reached the area of skin that my shirt would usually cover, he didn't bother to stop himself; instead, his teeth sunk into my flesh, deep enough to leave a faint outline, but not pierce through. He did this in unison with pressing his hips firmly into mine.

"Jem..." I moaned as my fingers grasped at his thin hips; I'm sure leaving nail marks in the soft skin.

A hand reached up and tangled itself in my hair, pulling my mouth back to its previous position on his. His lips were warm on mine, our tongues moving seamlessly in a furious, passionate rhythm.

We were both breathing hard, neither wanting to stop to catch our breath, even though we needed to. At long last the need for air overcame our need for one another and we broke apart, panting slightly.

I ran a hand through my somewhat messy hair, speechless for probably the first time in my life.

Jem's POV:

It was a few moments before either of us could collect our thoughts enough to form coherent sentences after that kiss. My mind was still reeling with the shock and intensity of it, but I managed to say a quick "good night" and "see you on Friday." My knees almost gave out when he leaned in close and whispered in a low growl that sent shivers up my spine, "remember, you better not stand me up, or I will be forced to come find you."

I wanted to laugh at the absurdity of it – like I would ever stand him up – but instead I put my mouth close to his ear and teased, "maybe that would be more fun." His fingers tightened around my hip momentarily before he replied.

"You'll just have to wait and see..." He kissed me again; quickly, but with an urgency that made me thankful, not for the first time tonight, that I was leaning up against the car. I would surely have collapsed without its support.

He left before I could reply. Which was good, because I'd run out of clever things to say, my mind frozen at his words and the way he'd said them.

I texted Alec before returning home, not wanting to walk in on any intimate moments that may be happening in our living room. Of course, knowing Alec, it was equally, if not more, likely that they were innocently conjugating French verbs on opposite sides of the room.

He responded quickly and, noticing the hour for the first time (when had it gotten so late?), I figured Magnus had already left.

I wondered if Alec would want to talk about it. Talking about our love lives was not something we usually did unless one of us needed advice. Alec usually went to Izzy for the little things and me for the questions that were too uncomfortable to pose to a sister. We were both fairly busy anyway, so it wasn't a topic that came up that often.

He had confided in me about Magnus though, and I hoped I was steering him I the right direction. It was clear what Alec wanted; sometimes he just needed to be told before realizing it himself.

I was of two minds about telling him about my night. Flirting with my nurse had been one thing, but this? This was downright irresponsible. If someone at the hospital had seen us, Will was bound to get in trouble, and very likely to be reassigned, if not worse. I definitely didn't want that. Though, if he was reassigned there probably wouldn't be any reason for us to not be able to go out.

Aside from the fact that he deserves to be in a relationship with someone who can give him so much more than I can. At least more than a few years...

I shook my head as I parked in our building's deck. What was I thinking? Relationship? Years? All we did was kiss. Twice. Sure, it was amazing but it was hardly a proposal! We don't even have arrangements to see each other outside of our scheduled appointments.

I slid the key in our lock and walked in, expected Alec to be off in his room like usual and Magnus to be gone.

Awkward…

"Hey Jem." Alec's voice was a little shaky and I could see his signature blush creeping up his neck.

"Hey, I, uh, wasn't expecting you to be in here..." I wasn't sure if I should leave or go to my room or what. My mind was already spinning with thoughts of Will and what going to happen next, I didn't think I could be around company right now. "I wasn't interrupting anything was I? Because I can leave again-"

"No, no, I was just about to head out myself," Magnus cut in. He looked happy to leave and I hoped it was just because I'd come home and not anything to do with Alec. He didn't exactly have the highest self-esteem.

He gave Alec a kiss on the cheek, which I took as a good sign, then left.

Alec and I just stood where we were for a few moments. Not saying a word. He was biting his lip and looking at the ground and I occupied myself rubbing the back of my neck and surveying the room. Something black and thin and made of silk sticking out from under the coffee table caught my eye.

"Is that Magnus's tie?" I asked, breaking our silence, as well as the tension in the room. Alec put his hands over his face, but I could hear his laughing underneath them, between groans of mortification.

"I'll take that as a yes." I laughed too, as he carefully picked up the tie and went to set it in his bedroom. "I'm going to assume that means things went well then?" I yelled, walking into the kitchen to pour us two glasses of brandy. I still hadn't decided whether or not I wanted to talk about my day, but I needed to at least talk. I needed something else on my mind to distract it from my complicated situation.

Alec came into the kitchen beaming. "Yeah, you could say that." He took the brandy I handed him and took a small sip, wrinkling his nose at the bite of alcohol, before turning his attention to rummaging through the cabinets for food.

"So you still like him now that you've gotten to spend some actual time with him?" That had been one of Alec's major concerns; that he was building up an idea of Magnus in his head that the real man wouldn't live up to.

"So far. We talked a bunch, mostly about me though. I guess I'll have to be better at asking his questions on Wednesday." He spoke nonchalantly, but I could tell he was excited.

"Another tutoring session?" I inquired, sitting at the table with my drink.

"No, uh, an actual date."

I held my glass up to him and we drank a toast to his good news. The smooth liquid burning a little as it went down.

"How was your day?" Alec asked, never one to take the spotlight for too long. "I didn't expect you back so late. Not that it's not appreciated..." He quickly took another sip of brandy, cutting off his words.

"It was fine. I figured you could use the time to yourselves," I lied. It wasn't a full lie; I'd had every intention of staying out after my session with Will, I just hadn't planned on having company.

I sat in the kitchen with Alec while he had ate dinner and we shared another glass (or two in Alec's case) of brandy, before heading off for a shower and a night of studying around nine. I thought that talking with Alec and drinking a little to knock the edge off would help me focus on anything but the previous few hours, but my mind kept drifting back to the memory of those deep blue eyes hidden by long lashes and how his hot breath felt when he whispered in my ear.

Chapter Text

Alec POV

Making it to Wednesday wasn't so bad.

My work and school schedules were busy enough to pass the time, and I didn’t have enough time between our texts to let my anxiety take over and convince me to cancel our date.

I liked texting Magnus, it gave me a chance to be articulate, and, on occasion, impulsively flirtatious, something I didn’t know how to be face to face. It wasn’t that I was too insecure too – okay, it wasn’t just that – it was just so much easier for my brain to function at a relatively normal speed when it wasn't being distracted by how damn beautiful that man was. He was the living embodiment of the word “stunning,” and it didn’t leave much room for coherent conversation skills. Texting was a better form of communication.

Although, it did mean there was zero chance for our conversation to turn into something physical. Which was probably a good thing anyway. We hadn't even been on an actual date yet and it was all I could think about, my libido apparently making up for its previous year of non-existence.

Making it through Wednesday, however, was another story altogether.

I only had two classes Wednesday morning, French 300 at 9am and anthropological theory at 10am, followed by my internship.

Interning for Dr. Stevens was a loosely defined affair. Essentially, I did the work of a T.A., plus an administrative assistant, and worked on my own independent research that was looked over once a week. The few students I’d known who took his internship had hated it and resented him for dumping all of his busywork in their laps, but I enjoyed it. It gave me the chance to experience what being a college professor was actually like, all while earning three credits towards my degree.

The only downside was that it was unpaid, which meant I still had to find time to pick up shifts at the museum in between doing Stevens’ job, taking four classes, and studying to keep my grades high enough to keep my scholarships.

I wasn’t lying when I’d told Izzy, and everyone else who brought it up, that I didn't have time to date. It wasn't just an excuse because I didn't want to put myself out there; I barely had enough hours in my day to get 5-6 hours of sleep each night.

Maybe Magnus would be worth a few more yawns and dark circles under my eyes though…

The classes went by fast and they were important enough that my mind was able to focus on the material and not the impending date. Once 11am hit though, it became more and more difficult to think about anything else as the time dragged on.

Magnus and I had decided that he would pick me up around eight – apparently, he needed 'at least an hour to become magnificent' before dinner. I’d offered to pick him up, since I was technically the one who asked – which I still couldn’t believe I’d actually managed – but he’d said he had the perfect place in mind for our first date, so he'd pick me up and it'd be surprise.

I really didn’t like surprises, never had, but I couldn't turn down his offer, so instead I just asked about what I should wear and tried not to panic.

I'd done a good job of that for a little while, but my confidence was ebbing away with the hours. The longer I sat in Stevens' office, sorting through scantrons and late assignments, the more my nerves set in.

This was a date. An actual date; just the two of us, eating and talking for some undetermined amount of time at some undisclosed place. How was I going to manage carrying on a normal conversation with him in person, and worse yet, in public? I could barely handle it in my own home where I was most comfortable. Sure, I’d improved after a while, but that’d had a lot to do with the fact that most of the sexual tension that was shutting down my brain had been dealt with in the form of very heavy making out. Pretty confident that wasn't going to be happening at a restaurant.

"You do know that we have a paper shredder downstairs right? You don't have to do it by hand." It was a little after four in the afternoon and Dr. Stevens was sitting at the desk across from mine, looking pointedly at the document in my hands that I had absentmindedly been tearing to shreds. I felt a prickling crawling up my spine and starting cleaning up the little bits of paper that had gotten everywhere. Thankfully, it hadn't been anything important.

"Yeah, I guess I'm just a little distracted. Sorry about that," I mumbled, embarrassed that I'd let my personal life interfere with my work. I'd been letting my mind wander to the possible outcomes for the evening for the umpteenth time since I'd arrived; caught up in what to talk about in the car and what kind of food made you look the best when eating it.

"Why don't you head home after you've finished those scantrons? The late work can wait; the students certainly didn't make an effort to finish it on time, why should you?" He suggested, flippantly.

Stevens was a pretty cool guy when you got to know him. He was in his mid-sixties and very passionate about his work, he just wasn't the most interesting teacher in the world. His lesson plans for his 100-level classes weren't boring on their own, it was just that he'd taught the material so many times over the years that he’s become rather jaded, knowing that most of the time he would be dealing with large classes of students that didn't share his passion for the subject and probably never would. Anthropology 101 was a general education requirement for most majors. He could go off on some pretty fascinating tangents, as I had witnessed many times, but they were really only interesting to people who wanted to do it for a living and never had anything to do with testable material. Still, he was a kind and encouraging guy to work with and I had learned a lot from him.

"Are you sure? I'm really sorry about how distracted I've been today," I apologized, sheepish and self-conscious.

"It's no problem at all. I get like that sometimes on beautiful autumn days too. They make me long for a long walk and an apple cider with Molly." Molly was his wife, who I'd met a couple of times at a field school last summer. She was one of the lead archaeologists on the project and he was running the field school for students of the university. You could see how much they loved each other any time they were near one another, and I thought it was romantic, how close they were and how much they had in common.

Thinking about them made a tiny part of me worry that Magnus and I were too dissimilar for a relationship between us to ever develop into anything beyond physical attraction. He wanted excitement, travel, and adventure, whereas I would be perfectly happy to spend the rest of my life cataloging artifacts in the back of a dusty museum. He was loud and colorful; I was quiet and drab. I tried to push the growing list of opposites out of my head, my imagination running wild with reasons why I wasn’t what he actually wanted, why he would get bored of me.

I had to stop, I knew better than to start condemning things before I'd even given them a chance, I knew it could lead to me missing out on something great just because I’d created a scenario in my head where things went to shit and I’d preemptively cut myself off from it. I didn’t want that to happen, but it was hard to just shut it off. I’d never had a great handle on it, but once I was kicked out it was like there was no off switch. Therapy I couldn’t afford had helped me find that switch again, but it seemed to have turned into one of those switches that control nuclear detonations in movies, where you need two people to deactivate it. Luckily, Jem figured out how to be that person for me, and somehow didn’t seem to resent me for it.

I thought about what he’d say about my spiral, about my insecurities over my and Magnus’ differences.

It was surprisingly successful.  

Magnus was an unknown factor, and it made me anxious how little I could predict and anticipate with him. He was… mesmerizing. I couldn't get enough of him – even things I never thought I’d be attracted to, like the make-up he wore that made his tawny skin sparkle like sunlight reflecting off of sand, that made the green and gold of his eyes bright and captivating. No one had ever made me feel like that, and it was as terrifying as it was exciting.

What if it was only physical though? Did I want to stop seeing him if all we did was fool around? Could I just fool around with someone without strings attached? It wasn’t something I’d ever been able to do in the past, but I wanted Magnus, and he wanted me – or at least he had on Sunday. Maybe I could with him.

Or maybe I wouldn’t have to.

I knew from Sunday that I at least felt comfortable around him; comfortable sharing things that I told almost no one. That had to mean something right?

It was pointless arguing with myself about it, running all the different scenarios. I wouldn’t know anything until we spent more time together, all I was succeeding in doing was making myself more nervous, so I did my best to stop.

I finished up my work quickly, thanked Dr. Stevens - not bothering to correct his false presumption that my behavior was caused by the weather- and headed home. Maybe Jem would want to try out some more yoga or go for a jog. I needed some task to relax my mind and it was either that or sketching, and I really didn't want to have charcoal-stained hands for my date.

When I walked in the door, I thought for a moment Jem wasn't home, but as I kicked my shoes off I heard a strange sound coming from the kitchen.

Was that a giggle?

From the one-sidedness of the conversation I could hear the sounds of but not make out the words to, I figured he must be on the phone. I cleared my throat and called out "hey Jem," to announce my presence, not wanting him to think I was eavesdropping on him.

A few moments later, he walked into the den.

"Hey, I thought you were working today." He looked at me quizzically, taking a seat. Jem and I rarely veered from our schedules. We had too many things going on in a day to rearrange our plans without two weeks’ notice.

"I finished up early," I said with a shrug, deciding not to add that it was because I couldn't keep my mind on my work. "The gym has a yoga class starting in about half an hour, you want to go?"

The college gym is within walking distance of our apartment, so after Jem had agreed without hesitation, he and I changed clothes and jogged the three blocks there. Working out had always helped me focus my emotions, and the mindfulness – being in the present – that was a central emphasis of the yoga class had me feeling more calm and centered than I had all day. The class ended at six, so I decided to stay and lift some weights before going back to the apartment. I didn’t need any more than thirty minutes maximum to shower and get dressed for our dinner, and that was if I took my time.

My muscles were already aching slightly, more from the yoga stretching than from the weights, by the time I got home. Jem had left the gym before me and was in his room, so I hopped straight in the shower, quickly scrubbing away all the sweat and grime from my workout. I towel dried my hair (running my fingers through it, which exhausted my styling expertise) and applied some deodorant, deciding on cologne as an afterthought. I had to rummage around a bit before locating my almost empty bottle of Kenneth Cole black. Like Jem, I hadn't bothered to wear the stuff in a while. Not like I’d had anyone to impress.

Returning to my bedroom, I managed to find the pieces of clothing I'd already decided on wearing.

After consulting with Iz, I'd asked Magnus what sort of restaurant I should be dressing for and he'd helpfully replied, "nothing too fancy. You can wear jeans but only if they're not faded and don't have holes. Oh and bring a jacket; it's supposed to be cold out tonight."

So – after another consultation with Iz – I'd decided to go with my (only) really nice pair of dark blue jeans. They were practically new since I'd only worn them a handful of times since purchasing them. They clung a little too tight to my body a little for my liking, but they’d gotten Izzy’s vote, and I’d received a lot of compliments the few times I'd ever worn them in public, so I figured I'd give them a shot for the night. As for my shirt, I decided to go with a simple black button down, again, a little more fitted than I usually like, with the sleeves rolled up to my elbows. I took my leather jacket out of the closet to bring along in case it got as cold as the weather channel predicted. It was only September, but already the days seemed reluctant to rise about 60 degrees.

I grabbed a pair of socks and went to the den to watch some TV while I waited for Magnus.

I checked my phone.

7:46.

I had a new message as well. Magnus and I had been texting in between reps at the gym, even though he was supposed to be paying attention in class and I’d told him as much. He dismissed my concern, telling me he'd already read the lecture chapter and was taking notes on anything he didn't already know. Which was nothing.

The man certainly couldn't be accused of being modest.

I opened the new message, my mouth upturning in an unbidden smile, as it did every time I saw a text from Magnus.

He was letting me know that he would be over soon and reminding me again to bring a jacket.

I slid on my shoes and absently flipped through the channels, not really noticing anything that was on. My nerves were alight, a slight tremble running through my body. I couldn't wait to see him again.

After eight minutes that felt like an eternity, the doorbell rang and I jumped off of the couch eagerly.

Calm down.

I took a deep breath and turned the TV off with a click then went to go open the door.

Magnus smiled when he saw me and the effect of his wide grin coupled with the styled, lightly glittered hair and sparkling face made him seem almost angelic. Or perhaps fae-like. Either way, he looked like a magical creature: too amazing and special for human eyes to behold.

He was wearing a long sleeved golden shirt made out of some material in between cotton and silk, which matched the gold make up on his eyes. His pants were white and very tight and he had a dark brown jacket in his arms.

We could not have looked more different if we'd tried.

"Well, aren't we a dichotomy." I laughed, nervousness melting away at the sight of him. He looked puzzled for a moment until I made a hand motion indicating what I was wearing and what he was wearing. He laughed as well. It was a beautiful sound.

"As they say, opposites attract. Now come on, don't want to be late for our reservation." He took me by the hand, causing warmth to radiate through my body from even such a small point of contact, and led me to his car, opening the door for me before walking around to the driver’s side. 

I took advantage of the few seconds I had alone to place the back of my hands to my cheeks, trying to cool my flushed skin before he could see. Even his slightest actions, probably things he did for everyone and didn't think about, made me feel special. I wasn't used to it, or the unfamiliar butterflies his attention gave me.

He drove us about thirty minutes outside of the city. We talked about our day – I left out the part where I was so preoccupied thinking about him that I couldn't work – and about his French class. He and Izzy had apparently started meeting up for coffee after class each day to practice and we had plans for the three of us to meet again Sunday as well.

It was more than a little unsettling thinking about Magnus spending so much time with my little sister. She had a LOT of dirt on me...and photographs… and a penchant for meddling.

We finally arrived at a large ornate stone building, and I stared out the windshield for a moment once we parked, caught in awe.

The restaurant was at least three stories high with beautiful wrought iron work on the windows and door. The stone siding had ivy growing up it in numerous places, and in large golden cursive letters the sign above the door read: The Institute and Gardens.

The sound of my door opening and the burst of cool air pulled me out if my reverie.

"Come on," Magnus held his hand out to me and helped me out of the car, "it looks even better on the inside."

He led us inside and over to the host podium. While he talked with the girl there, I looked around. This was the most beautiful, decorative restaurant I'd ever been to, except for maybe the ones I'd been to with my parents for birthdays or special occasions when we were children.

The lights were made to look like torches lining the walls held in wrought iron fixtures and there was a large chandelier above our heads in the entranceway. A spiral staircase led to the upper floors, and there was an old-fashioned elevator a little ways to our left.

I was studying one of the large oil paintings on the wall when Magnus grabbed my hand (which seemed to be his favorite method of getting my attention for the night) and started following our host to our table. We were on the top floor. I expected us to be seated at one of the tables in the small dining room, but the host walked right passed them all, opening the large floor-to-ceiling glass doors that led out to what I'd assumed was a balcony.

It was a mixture of a green house, balcony, and dining room. All of the walls and ceiling were made of glass and some of the roof panels were opened to provide a better view of the stars, which looked magnificent – it was difficult to see even a handful of stars closer to the city where I lived. The lighting was low, a few "torches" by the door and candles lit on each of the tables. The tables were low to the ground, and instead of proper chairs, there were large, fluffy cushions to sit on. A few of the places had square columns behind them with cushions propped up against them to act as chair backs, and the entire place was covered in the most beautiful smelling and looking flowers. There were even a few butterflies fluttering around.

"Do you have a table preference? As you can see we don't usually have a lot of guest out here this time of year," our host asked.

I looked around at the tables and realized we were the only people out here. We could literally have any seat we wanted.

Magnus apparently had a preference though as he led us to a corner away from the door. The table was surrounded by beautiful purple-blue flowers and was directly under an open roof panel. It was also the darkest spot in the room.

The host handed us our menus and left, promising our server would be with us shortly.

"This place is incredible," I told Magnus, looking up at the constellations in awe.

"It's really out of the way, so most people don't even notice it's here, it's mostly just locals. I stumbled across it a few years back and fell in love. Especially with this part," he motioned around to indicate the garden area where we sat. "I only ever eat out here; even when it's cold."

I turned my gaze to him. He was smiling contentedly, smelling one of the flowers near him.

"I suppose that explains the dozen or so reminders to bring a jacket." I joked, trying not to openly stare at him.

"Yeah, I didn't want to ruin the surprise, but I also didn't want you to be miserable and freezing. That wouldn't have made for a very nice first date."

"I don’t know..." I shrugged, avoiding his eyes. It was easier to talk when I did that. "If I'd forgotten my jacket, you would've had an excuse to warm me up..."

It was so hard for me to be that guy. The one who's confident and cocky, and says what he's thinking, even if it might end in rejection. Even knowing that Magnus was interested in me, I was still nervous about making comments like that.

"Hmm... That is a good point. Maybe I can convince our waiter to turn the AC on." He winked and smiled at me, making me feel a little better about trying to be bold.

A small brunette in all black with a golden apron came over to our table and introduced herself. "Hello, my name is Sarah, I'll be your server tonight," she put on a fake smile for us that turned genuine as she recognized Magnus. "Magnus! It's been awhile since we've seen you around here. How have you been?"

"The busy season is starting to amp up, both at work and school. What about you? Is Charlie taking to pre-school all right?"

"He loves it, my little social butterfly. Speaking of social… I'm used to serving you at a table for one; nice to see you’ve finally got a cute guest to keep you company."

She winked at me when she described me as his "cute guest." I didn’t know what to say, but luckily, it didn’t seem like I was expected to say anything. Magnus grinned at me, the up at her and nodded.

Warmth grew in the pit of my stomach at the knowledge that Magnus didn’t frequently bring dates to the Institute, but I tried not to read into it and make it out to be more than it was.  

"Shall I get you your usual wine?" Sarah asked him after they'd exchanged a few more pleasantries.

"Yes. A bottle please, and the bruschetta."

She nodded and hurried off, not bothering to check my ID, which would have told her that I definitely wasn’t old enough to drink.

Magnus pointed out the best items on the menu, offering helpful suggestions about which dishes would go best with the wine he’d selected. I didn’t tell him I’d known how to pair a wine with a meal since I was a kid, or that my uncle owned a winery. Those things seemed irrelevant with Magnus leaning across the table, his hand brushing against mine in a deliberately accidental way as he pointed out the menu options.

Sarah returned soon and sat our appetizer down and a wine glass in front of each of us. She opened the bottle of Sauvignon Blanc, pouring it delicately. "Can I take your orders, or do to need a few more minutes to decide?"

We placed our orders, I'd decided on a crab cake dish while Magnus chose sushi, and she left.

"Here," Magnus picked up a piece of the tomato and feta covered bread and held it up to my mouth. I took a small bite, trying not to make a mess or a fool of myself. It tasted amazing, better than anything I’d had in a while. I finished chewing and took a sip from the glass he was now holding up to me. The combination of flavor was even better than I’d assumed it would be. The wine was a good vintage, a bit citrusy, but not overpowering, and it paired well with the sharp feta and acidic tomatoes.

Our appetizer conversation remained superficial, even though I had a million things that I wanted to learn about him. I wasn't sure how to ask without sounding like I was playing 20 questions or just being completely random. Luckily, he shifted to more substantive topics when our meals came, asking about where I grew up.

"I lived about twenty-five miles from where I live now, up in Idris, for my entire life until I was sixteen. My parents still live there with my little brother Max. What about you?"

"My family moved around a lot when I was younger; I was born in Indonesia, where my mother is from, but my parents moved to Spain when I was about five. I came to the states a few years later and moved into the same neighborhood as my current roommate, Will. I moved in with him last year."

"Do you still see you parents?" I asked, curious as to whether he had a better relationship with his than I did with mine.

"No. How's your dinner?" He replied shortly.

Well that was obviously an off-limits topic. His reluctance to talk about them made me instantly curious, but I wasn’t going to push. If it were the other way around I certainly wouldn’t have appreciated being pressured into sharing.

"C'est délicieux, yours?"

He grinned at my accidental slip into French. Sometimes it was hard to turn off on days I had class.

"Perfection."

I wanted to get the subject back on Magnus, so taking care to avoid the topic of family, I asked about his roommate, who he told me was an RN working at the city hospital, and about his cat, who sounded much nicer than the monster I had to live with.

Dessert was a "death by chocolate" brownie a la mode, and when it arrived at our table Magnus moved from his seat to sit next to me. The new closeness coupled with my two glasses of wine had the effect of making it suddenly too warm. I took my jacket off and took a sip of the large ice water I'd ordered with dessert.

The lustful look in the golden-green eyes that were slowly scanning my body gave me the feeling that the conversation portion of our evening was just about over.

Chapter Text

Magnus POV

Alexander looked amazing in black. It suited him, complementing the pallor of his skin, and making those blue eyes shine. The sleeves of his button down were rolled to his elbows, high enough that I could see the spidery bluish veins that stood out against his ghostly flesh. He’d looked good in the leather jacket too, don’t get me wrong, the leather was definitely sexy, but his dress shirt was tight and clung in all the right places.

"Vous êtes mignon," I told him, repeating the new vocabulary I'd learned this week. It was pretty obvious he had a kink for languages, and I planned on exploiting it as much as I could – which, to be fair, wasn’t much yet; at least not with French.

The question flickered in my mind of whether he’d enjoy the sound of Indonesian, but I immediately pushed it aside.

Alec smiled at my foreign language attempt, shifting his body towards me more.

"I think we're on more familiar terms than that aren't we?" He teased, referring to my use of "vous" instead of "tu."

Way to ruin a moment with technicalities darling.

He must've seen the change in my expression because he unexpectedly placed his hand on mine on the table, leaning in to say, softly, “Tu es un bel homme et je voudrais t'embrasser."

I was pretty sure that he called me beautiful, but I had no idea what the other words meant. I could tell he knew it too, because he was grinning at me, like he'd gotten away with something.

"That's not fair;” I pouted, “I haven't learned what that means yet."

"Maybe I'll teach you, later," he said, doing that thing where he avoided eye contact while flirting, which was both incredibly adorable and annoying at the same time.

If there was ever a motivation to do my French homework, this boy was it.

I scooped up a piece of fudge-smothered brownie and ice cream we’d ordered and held the spoon to his lips, granting him the privilege of the first bite.

His eyes closed as his lips wrapped around the metal spoon, and I was suddenly hungry for a completely different type of dessert.

He caught me staring while he licked the remnants of chocolate from his lips. Instead of the blush and averted gaze I'd come to expect, he bit his lip, more playfully than nervously, and picked up his own spoon. He trailed it along the outside of the brownie, scooping up some hot fudge and pecans. He brought the utensil to my lips, which parted willingly, but took it away before I could have a taste, watching my reaction as he savored the delicacy.

Alec reached for a napkin to wipe away the small bit of chocolate that trailed down the corner of his mouth, but before he could, I leaned forward and tasted the decadence on his flesh with my tongue.

It surprised him, but he quickly adapted. Soon our lips were touching and he was moaning softly into our kiss, raking his nails across my scalp, pulling me in deeper.

Just as suddenly as it started though, it stopped. The hand that hand been sensually sliding down my chest stopped and pressed flat against it, firmly pushing me back.

I was about to apologize when he turned his head and violently sneezed into the crook of his elbow.

"Bless you," I said when I'd recovered from the shock, chuckling a little.

"Sorry, allergies." He sniffled a little and looked back at me, embarrassed.

"Oh no, being allergic to my kisses does not bode well for you." We both laughed and he placed his head on my shoulder. "I'm sorry; I should've asked if you were allergic to the flowers before I brought you to eat in a greenhouse. I wasn't thinking."

"Don't apologize! This has been the most romantic date I've ever been on, and it’s not a severe allergy. I think I just stirred up some pollen when I moved; I’ll be fine. It was worth it, anyway. The whole night has been." He smiled and nuzzled his head against my neck.

"Really? You're not just saying that?" I'd spent since Sunday planning every single detail trying to make this the perfect evening; I hated the thought that an oversight like that could've ruined it for him. This place was so special to me, like my very own secret garden that I’d only shared with a handful of people, none of them dates. It was just too special to take just anybody.

But Alec...

Alec wasn't 'just anybody'. He was special. I could tell that already, even if it was ridiculously early to start having those sorts of feelings, and if there was anyone in the world who I wanted to share this with, it was him. I had just known that he would get it, that he’d appreciate the place as much as I did.

"Cross my heart." He made an X with his finger over his heart, then casually sat his hand down to rest...on my thigh. The subtle inexperience with which he did these sorts of moves excited my body into response much more than it should have. It was just so damn attractive.

I tilted Alec's face up towards mine, caressing the warm, rosy cheek with the pad of my thumb. Leaning down I brushed his lips with mine, softly asking permission to go further. His lips parted against mine and his tongue slowly and tentatively slid along them. His thumb was lightly massaging my thigh, possibly absentmindedly, and it, coupled with the pace of our kiss, was starting to ignite an ache in the pit of my stomach, and making me wish we were somewhere more private.

When he took my bottom lip between his teeth, nipping slightly, before sucking on it in a slow, deliberate manner I thought I was going to lose the little self-control I had left right then and there. I moaned into his mouth and felt a shudder run through his body, which only served to heighten my own arousal. The hand that wasn't relentlessly teasing my thigh, traced the line of my collarbone with calloused fingertips, stroking each curve and dip, up my neck, across my jaw, past my ear (which turned out to be an incredibly sensitive area, who knew?) until finally coming to rest in the gelled spikes of my hair, which by now were probably a tangled mess.

My heart beat rapidly, pulse thrumming in my ears. It was becoming too hot for my jacket and I effortlessly shrugged it off, the fabric pooling behind me, instantly forgotten. Just as his mouth opened wider, taking in my tongue eagerly, stroking it with his own, he pushed away again and turned fast to sneeze once more into his elbow.

"I think I might actually be allergic to your kisses. I wasn't sneezing before you came over here," He joked, more relaxed now than before.

"I can go back if you'd like." I made to get up, but his hand shot out and fingers wrapped themselves in the fabric of my shirt, pulling me roughly back.

"No, stay."

Gods I wish we weren't in a restaurant, I thought for the hundredth time in the past twenty minutes.

"Mmnhkhy," I managed to reply, hypnotized by the fierce hunger in those endless blue eyes. He released his grip on my shirtfront, fingertips electrifying the skin they contacted as he trailed them along my collarbone. His lips came to meet them with warm, wet kisses. I tilted my head back to give him easier access and ran my fingers through his hair, guiding his mouth to the areas that felt the best.

"Gods Alec," I moaned as his teeth grazed my Adam's apple. I was growing more deliriously aroused by the second, but I had the presence of mind left to reach across the table and place one of our glass coasters over the candleholder at the center. The flame extinguished slowly and, though there were still lights from the wall sconces, it was almost dark where we sat.

I pulled Alec's face away from my neck and our mouths met once more, this time all semblance of delicacy flying out the window. I pushed him up against one of the large columns behind us and climbed on top of him, straddling his lap. He made a sound as if to object, so I pulled back, pausing still on his lap, my hands on his chest. He was breathing hard, eyes searching my face for something – I didn’t know what – that he seemed to find after a long moment. Alec pulled me back against him, a hand sliding underneath my shirt to tenderly, but firmly, press against the bare skin of my back.

There was electricity in that touch, and I wanted more. Our position, pressed so bodily together, did nothing to alleviate that yearning; it only made things worse.

I moved my hips, pressing against him harder, and he moaned into my mouth, blunt fingernails pressing into the small of my back. I moved again and a whispered curse escaped his parted lips, before I recaptured them with my own.

I wondered what he’d be like in bed, whether it would be all cut off curses and silent pleas, or if he’d be loud when he came apart. I wondered if he even could lose control that completely. It was a challenge I was more than up for.

Not tonight. I knew from Sunday that he wasn't ready for that yet, but fuck, when he was… there were so many things I wanted to do to him. We hadn’t specifically talked about what the extent of his experiences was, but there was obviously some sort of barrier there. Whether it was past trauma or just virgin nerves, I hadn’t figured out yet, but either way, I didn’t intend to push farther than he was comfortable.

That didn’t mean I couldn’t think about it.

I gasped against his mouth when his hand moved from my lower back, sliding into my back pocket, cupping my ass and holding me impossibly closer, firmer, against him.

I deepened our kiss, trailing my hand down his neck and chest, feeling the hard outline of his muscles. Putting some space in between us, I let my fingers reach underneath the front of his shirt, brushing against the twitching muscles of his abdomen, playing briefly with the soft line of hair that started just above his navel and went down, down… Another strangled moan and a trembling hand took hold of my wrist.

"Magnus," Alec breathed, leaning his head back against the pillar for support. "We... You, can't. N-not here. We should stop."

I wondered fleetingly if that meant he wouldn’t have wanted to stop if we were somewhere more private.

I shook my head, trying to clear it of the sex-fog, and rallied up all of my willpower to climb off him.

I ran a hand through my hair, hoping to make it look more like a deliberate mess than a frenzied one, and tried to calm my breathing. Alec was still leaning against the wall, eyes closed, also taking slow, deep breaths.

When he finally looked over at me, his expression was not the blissful, bashfulness I was expecting; it was worried.

“I’m sorry,” he said, not meeting my eyes.  

“Don’t be, that was incredible. Besides, I started it.” I winked at him, but he was still barely looking at me.

“No, I meant- ”

I put a finger to his lips, silencing his unnecessary apology.

“Darling, never apologize for your boundaries, and please don’t ever hesitate to stop me if I’m going too far, okay?”

He nodded, but still looked apprehensive – a little less so after I placed my hand in his.

Sarah was, thankfully, an excellent and observant waitress who'd not been back since bringing the brownie over and only came to clear out plates when she was sure we were done with both the PDA and dessert, not mentioning the extinguished candle or the fact that I was now sitting in a different spot. She would be getting a very large tip.

I slipped her my credit card when I handed her the uneaten meal, suspecting that Alec would give me a hard time about paying if I let her bring the bill. Checking the time on my phone, I mentally cursed the universe.

Why does tomorrow have to be Thursday?!

I had to get up by seven at the latest and it was already pushing midnight. Not that the events that had kept us out late weren't worth it, because they definitely were. I glanced over at Alec, who was stifling a yawn.

When Sarah brought the receipt back he protested as I had imagined he would, but there was nothing he could do about it, so I promised he could treat next time and we left.

We listened to music on the ride back. He seemed lost in his thoughts and I wasn’t sure what to say to get us back to that comfortable place we’d been at before.

When we arrived at his building, Alec surprised me by taking my hand, interlacing his fingers with mine as we walked up the stairs to his apartment. He still seemed distant, and I thought he was going to go in without saying a word, but he turned to face me after getting his keys out of his pocket, before unlocking the door.

"I had an amazing time tonight," he said, smiling.

"Me too. Sorry, again, about all the flowers." And for not keeping my stupid hands to myself.

He laughed.

"Don't worry about it. Tonight was perfect." He blushed a little and stepped closer, tilting his head up for a good night kiss.

I tried to keep things soft and light, not wanting to get worked up again, letting him stay the lead this time. His arms wrapped around my neck and I rested my hands innocently on his hips while our mouths met in a slow, passionate kiss.

Kissing Alec was like having a conversation – so much conveyed in every movement. The varying pressures, the sucking, the biting, every bit of it spoke to my soul. Before, at the restaurant, he'd been speaking of desire and wanting, right now it was different. It was pure happiness and appreciation and connection. I could feel him getting as lost in me as I was in him.

It was overwhelming.

The last couple of years for me had been littered with one-night stands and relationships were either toxic or lucky to make it a month. Before that, was teenage lust and immaturity, but this… this felt different. Sure, there was lust; by the gods was there lust. But there was so much more I wanted from Alec. So much more I wanted to give him. I'd barely spent any time with this boy and already I was planning second and third dates, thinking about how he and Will would get along – and more importantly, how he and Chairman Meow would get along – picking out Christmas gifts... I was more than smitten and that sudden realization scared the shit out of me.

I broke our kiss, my thoughts getting too serious to continue. I tried not to show it though, and he didn't seem to notice. He bit his lip, looking like he was trying to muster up the courage to say something.

"Do you – would you like to come in..." His words were shaky, but his gaze never faltered from mine as he gestured towards the door behind him.

If only he'd asked ten minutes ago before I'd had time to think.

I wanted to say yes, but I couldn’t. I needed to figure things out before we went that far. Besides, he was looking more unsure with every passing second, and I could tell he still felt guilty about cutting off our make-out session short – I didn’t know how to fix that, but I knew saying yes would just make it worse. I didn’t want him just going through the motions, fulfilling some perceived obligation, and until I was sure he wasn't giving in because of my unintentional pressuring, I couldn't accept his invitation. For once, I didn’t want this to end with a one-night stand. I didn’t know how to make sure that didn't happen aside from just not having sex, so I would have to stick to that for now and figure the rest out later.

Not to mention the very real, very lame, factor that I had to be awake for school in a few hours.

His face fell at my lack of reply and I realized too late that it'd been a while since he'd spoken. I quickly tried to reassure him.

"It's not that I don't want to, because trust me I want to; it's just, I have class really early tomorrow and my teacher is a bastard about absences or being late.” It wasn’t a lie, and I tried to sound as earnest as I possibly could, but I could tell he thought I was just making up an excuse.

Why was this so much harder than it usually was?

"Oh, okay. Well, um, I'll see you soon?" He shoved his hands in his pockets and looked around, avoiding eye contact, a hopeful, insecure lilt lacing his words.

I reached out and touched his cheek, making sure he was concentrating on me when I replied sincerely, "Very soon. If that's what you want."

He blinked a couple of times before nodding resolute.

"It is. If it's what you want too."

I couldn’t fathom how he could possibly think after tonight that I wouldn’t want to see him again. I was being ridiculously obvious in my newfound affections.

I leaned in and gave him a short, simple kiss and, just in case he needed it spelled out for him, replied, "There's nothing I want more. Sweet dreams, my Alexander."

I kissed him again, feeling him smile into it.

"Good night, Magnus."

He unlocked his door and I made my way back to my car, feeling equal parts proud and frustrated with myself for walking away.

Chapter Text

Magnus POV:

The next morning came painfully early. I hadn't been able to get to sleep until excruciatingly late due to my own thoughts and my roommate's loud and obnoxiously angsty music blaring through the walls. I could only assume that whoever'd left that hickey on his neck had more recently left him in this state of disarray. I hadn't seen him since I gotten home and he'd been fine when I left, cheerful in fact, so something must've happened while I was away. I decided I would ask him about it after I got some sleep and he had time to chill out, otherwise we would both probably just end up snapping at each other.

I'd managed to tune the music out quickly enough, but my thoughts kept drifting back to Alec. Admittedly, my thoughts had in drifted that direction quite a lot in the shower, but once I was in bed, they were decidedly more PG and asking questions for which I didn't have an answer.

Such as: what was I getting myself into? Alexander was gorgeous, intelligent, and above all, focused; he knew what he wanted out of life and he was on the way to getting it. And yet, he was so inexperienced. We were mirror images, and as much as I would have liked to imagine that that meant we were a perfect match, I knew better. The Opposites Attract trope always worked better in movies than it did in real life.

Besides, I wasn't the relationship type; I never had been. Did I want to change that for Alexander? Did I want to commit to taking things slow and seeing where things could go between us?

Was he worth that?

I didn't need to think about the answer to that question for very long. Yes, he was worth waiting for, worth the effort it was going to take, and I was completely willing to do it – I just wasn't sure if I could.

The longest relationship I'd ever been in had lasted less than a year, and even that was difficult to maintain. People just get so...boring after a while. Once the novelty had worn off and the frequent sex dwindles what's left? Not much, in my experience. Granted, despite the clichéd-ness of it all, I did feel like it was different with Alec. While there was certainly no shortage of sexual attraction, I also felt as though he was someone I could see myself becoming friends with. It felt natural to be around him; I wanted to get to know him.

That scared me a little bit. I didn't want this to be another short-term relationship that left me with nothing to show for it, and I really didn't want to hurt him. I would never intentionally, but I had no control over my relationship attention span. What if my infatuation faded out after only a few weeks? What then?

I eventually fell into restless sleep, no more sure about my situation than I had been when I'd gotten home, waking a few hours later to attend class before heading to work.

It was going to be a long day.

I worked at a retail store that caters to the alternative crowd, thus September and especially October, being the month of Halloween, started the busy season for us. I had expected to be given a few more hours than my usual 12-16 a week, but when I walked on the back room to clock in and saw my schedule I nearly flipped out.

"What the hell is up with the new schedule?" I asked my manager, a petite blonde who used to be a coworker until recently. She and I had dated a while back when I’d first started the job almost two years ago, but it was a toxic mess that we were both better off ending. We'd both gotten bored and fed up after a very short time frame and hung on way too long, until it reached the point where we hated the sight of one another. She was also a cold-hearted bloodsucker who blamed me for “making” her cheat, so, there was that, too.

Still, we'd put our personal dramas behind us enough to get our jobs done, and, much to my friends’ dismay, had still fooled around on occasion when one or both of us was desperate and horny enough.

I hadn’t been that desperate in a while though.

"Tess is on vacation this week so you're getting her hours. I thought you'd be happy about it. You're always bitching that I don't put you on enough," Camille explained, filing her long, blood red nails into a point.

"It's not that I don't appreciate the hours Camille, I just wish you'd asked me about it first. I'm essentially working every minute I'm not in class or asleep." She was right that I generally wouldn't have minded, but I had been hoping to go out with Alec again soon and this schedule pretty much ensured that wouldn't be happening until next Friday, at the earliest.

"Well we don't have anyone else to cover it, so you'll just have to suck it up, buttercup. Now hurry up and clock in, I need you on register so I can get some coffee." Camille's attention went back to her manicure, missing the death glare I gave her as I swiped my card to clock in.

I took a picture of my schedule and sent it to Alec, not wanting him to think I was making up excuses not to see him after last night. I had enough of my own doubts floating around in my head at that moment, I didn't need his there too.

5:30pm: One of my coworkers is on vacation this week so guess who got ALL of her hours!

5:34pm: Wow, that's...a lot. I hope you don't have any tests this week. 

It was cute that he always put schoolwork ahead of any other concerns – or had seeing me again just not crossed his mind?

5:35pm: I don't. But more IMPORTANTLY, now I don't have any free time to see you until next Friday :'(

Subtlety has never been my strong suit, I didn’t see the need for it. I'd made up my mind this morning that I was going to give this my all, whether I ended up getting hurt or not. Some opportunities in life were just too good to let insecurities get in the way.

I took my place at the register and waited for his reply, keeping an eye out for customers. There were a few girls browsing the Playboy costumes and trying on wigs, but aside from that, we were dead. It was only 5:30pm on a Thursday, after all.

After a few minutes he finally replied.

5:40pm: :( 

That was it. Not a “that’s too bad” or an “ugh” or anything. Maybe he wasn't as upset about it as I was. That was a mood-souring thought.  

I fished, deciding that if his next reply had less than three words I would just give up and wait for him to make the next move; knowing full and well that that would likely mean nothing further would ever happen. I wasn't going to lose anymore sleep over this boy if he wasn’t going to put in the effort.

5:44pm: Would you want to go out Friday or Saturday?

One of the girls came up to the register and asked about our return policy and accessories. It took about fifteen minutes to help her find what she was looking for; all the while, I was dying to check my phone to see what Alec had said. The girl and her friends finally checked out, and as they walked out I looked down at my blinking phone. New message.

5:45pm: Friday is perfect. I get off work at 6.

I breathed a sigh of relief when I read it.

"Magnus, get off your phone, you know Corporate likes to drop by during October," Camille snapped, like she hadn’t been doing the same since I’d gotten there.

She walked out of the back room – where she took to hiding whenever there was someone to cover the register – dressed up in one of the costumes we had on display. Corporate had started the initiative last year, where employees could wear the costumes starting in September in order to help sell the accessories, and Camille had immediately jumped on board. She also sold a lot of costumes that way. Tonight, she was dressed in her favorite: the Vampire's Vixen Adult Costume. It was black and burgundy, made of fake lace and silk, with a corset, and pop-up collar, and very short skirt. The accessories – which could be bought at an additional price – were lacy arm warmers, fishnet stockings, a thick black velvet choker with a fake ruby pendant, dangly red earrings, and six-inch shiny black pumps. Her blonde hair flowed in ringlets, cascading down her bony shoulders, and red lipstick completed her look. She looked every bit the vampire she was.

"Yeah, yeah, I'll put it away." I texted Alec quickly to let him know I wouldn't be able to reply much, but he could text me all he wanted, and slid it back into my pocket.

"So who's the lucky girl? Or is it a guy this week?" 

Jesus she's annoying.

"I don't know what you're talking about." I busied myself with fronting the glow sticks on one of the end-caps near the register.

"Oh come on, I saw that giddy smile when you checked your phone. What's their name?" She was like a dog with a bone, but really it was none of her business and I didn't want to talk about it to her. Everything was too new and up in the air at the moment, and Camille had a way of corrupting things, especially things that meant something to me.

"Why do you care?"

"Because I'm bored and it's obviously making you uncomfortable." She cackled maniacally, walking over to stand too close to me. "Come on, we used to be so close," she was inches away from my body, her bright red lips pouting up at me. "You can tell me anything." I felt her hands on my hips and quickly stepped back. I was not falling into her trap.

"Cut it out Camille, you know I hate it when you pull that shit."

"Alright, I give up. I'll be in the back if you need me. Or want me..." She winked, still laughing, and retreated.

The seven o’clock rush hit hard, so it wasn't until two hours later, when the hordes had finally died down and I reached into my pocket to see if Alec had texted me, that I realized my phone wasn't there. I searched under the counter, in case I had sat it down and forgot, but I couldn't find it. I dialed my number from the store phone, realizing afterwards that I'd turned it to silent for work, so that plan was useless.

Then I heard Camille's laughter from the back room and my chest filled with rage. That sneaky bitch.

"Took you long enough," she said as I rounded the corner. I snatched my phone out of her hand and immediately checked my texts to Alec, hoping to every god I could think of that she hadn't been evil enough to text him. There weren’t any new messages to him in my log, but that didn’t mean she hadn’t sent something and then deleted it. I was furious.

"This is my property! You have no right to take things out of my pockets!" I practically screamed at her.

"Jesus Magnus, calm down. It's just a phone. It’s not like I took your credit cards and went on a shopping spree. I just wanted to see who you were talking to, and since you wouldn’t tell me, I had to find out for myself. He's cute; I don't know why you were so ashamed to tell me about him. I mean, sure he's as pure as snow, but I bet he'll catch on fast. Especially with a mouth like that." She winked at me, then rolled her eyes at how I cringed at the way she talked about Alexander.

I wished, not for the first time, that I knew how to get under her skin the way she got under mine. She didn’t care about anything, and that was the problem – there was nothing that I could hold over her.

"Fuck you, Camille. Leave my things alone or I'll tell district about how you open the store an hour late every Sunday because you're too hung over to get out of bed." I settled for petty threats, but we both knew she didn’t care one way or the other if she lost this job. She’d be able to find another within a week. Camille somehow always managed to land on her feet like that.

It irritated the fuck out of me.

"So grumpy today," she mumbled as I stormed back to the register with a death grip on my phone. I immediately changed my password to something that she hopefully wouldn't be able to hack so easily.

That was the problem with spending two years working/going out with someone, you kind of become easy to predict.

The rest of the evening went by quietly, with Camille staying in the back room as much as possible and me staffing the front of the store. She must have realized she crossed a line, because I didn’t see her at all until half an hour before we closed when the line got long enough that she needed to hop on a register.

We didn’t talk while we closed, and I worked as fast as possible so that I was away from her and home by a little past eleven.

I grabbed a bite to eat and a quick shower, mentally and physically exhausted. I just wanted the stupid day to be over. Every part of it had been one difficulty after another, on top of not sleeping well and Alec barely texting me all night, I could accurately say that it had been the worst day I’d experienced in a very long time.

I checked my phone one last time before bed: no new messages. I set my alarms and threw the offending device on my desk where I’d have to get up to turn it off in the morning.

I was done with the day. I just wanted to go to bed and forget about everything and everyone.

I woke up in the same sour mood, just with more energy to hate the world with. I had another long day of classes and Camille to contend with, and I was not looking forward to it one bit. I also wasn’t looking forward to another day of pining over someone who obviously didn’t want to talk to me, but a glance at my phone screen told me I’d probably been overreacting about that one.

I had five unread messages between when I’d gone to bed at midnight and when I’d woken up at eight thirty.

1:34am: Finally finished mine and everyone else’s work for the day!

1:38am: Are you okay? You haven't been very chatty tonight.

1:45am: I know you were at work and busy, but if I said/did something to upset you please let me know.

2:00am: You’re probably already asleep. I hope these didn’t wake you up. I’ll stop now. I’m about to pass out anyway. Sweet dreams Magnus.

6:55am: Good morning. Hope you slept well :)

I was touched by his concern, and also felt a little bad about jumping to conclusions, but he could have said he was busy instead of leaving me to think he just didn’t want to talk. Phones worked both ways.

I replied before changing clothes, not having the desire or energy to put into holding a grudge about it. It was a misunderstanding. We obviously had some kinks to work out, but, I reminded myself, he was new and we didn’t know each other’s nuisances yet. He wasn’t deliberately ignoring me, no need to get petty. He wasn’t Camille.

8:32am: Good morning, Alexander. I’m sorry I passed out before we had a chance to talk last night. I had a shitty day and I just needed to sleep it off. Hearing from you would have definitely made it better though, so feel free to text me as much as you want. You don't have to wait for me to be chatty.

Okay, maybe there was a need to be a little petty.

My phone buzzed while I was fixing my hair and makeup; I read his reply once I was done, unable to stop in the middle of my masterpiece creation.

8:38am: I'm sorry you had such a bad day :/ maybe today will be better. And I’m sorry about not texting either. I was busy and I didn’t want to annoy you.

I laughed out loud at his adorableness.

8:50am: Darling, it's never annoying knowing that you’re thinking of me.

I poured myself a bowl of cereal and a saucer of milk for the Chairman who was wrapping himself around my feet and mewling loudly. It looked as if Will had forgotten to feed him this morning before work and he was letting me know about it. He would likely let Will know about it when he got home later too. That cat could hold a grudge like no other.

I looked at my phone again as I munched on the lucky charms.

8:51am: If I texted you as much as I thought about you, there would be no time in my day to do anything else.

8:52am: You say the sweetest things.

I was much less unsure about giving this thing between us a shot after talking to him this morning than I had been yesterday.

8:55am: Just the truth :)

I made my way to class with a smile on my face, feeling slightly better about the day ahead.

Photography went by quick, as usual. We received a new assignment to make a portfolio of ten pictures capturing emotion by the Monday after next. It sounded easy enough to pull off, but they had to be candid and raw. It would be good practice for photo journalism so I was looking forward to it. If I could find the time to get it done with my new work schedule.

Isabelle was waiting for me outside of our French classroom when I got there ten minutes before class.

"Hey Magnus." She wave to me, smiling, and the sight inspired me. I still had my camera out since my photography class was just down the hall and I had been planning to review some shots before putting it away. I snapped the picture quickly before she had a chance to recognize what I was doing and pose.

"Whoa, you should warn a girl before taking her picture!" She put her hands over her face, but it was too late; I already had my gold.

"Sorry, you just looked so genuine. It's for my photography class; I promise you looked stunning, don't worry." She crossed her arms and scowled, but I could tell she was just putting it on. She liked the attention, and the compliment.

"Well, if you need any more modeling help, just let me know." Her expression changed to all smiles again at the prospect and she started playing with her hair.

"I might actually; I have a project that I don't have time for this week. I might need you over the weekend for some more candid shots, if you don't mind." Isabelle, like her brother, had striking features.

"I'd love to."

"Great." I made to walk into class, but she grabbed my arm.

"Wait a sec." She checked her phone and looked down the hall before looking back at me.

"Ooookkaaaayy... What's up?" I moved out of the way of the door to let the other arriving students in. Our teacher would be getting here soon, we only had a few minutes before class started.

Before she could reply we were joined by none other than Alec. I was so shocked to see him that I just stared at him while he handed Isabelle a Starbucks cup and she kissed him on the cheek.

"Thanks big brother, you’re a life saver. I'll see you for dinner?"

"Yeah, six thirty. Bring your French book; we'll go over it again afterwards." He hadn't looked at me yet, and didn't until she'd walked passed me into the classroom, leaving us alone in the hallway.

"Hey," he said awkwardly, turning to face me.

"Hey," I finally recovered enough to flash him my award-winning smile.

"Here," he handed me the other Starbucks cup in his hands, "it's the spiced chai latte. Iz said you like them." He blushed a little handing it over.

"You are quite possibly the sweetest person I've ever met." Definitely the sweetest person I’d ever been involved with. I took the drink, sipping it gratefully.

"I just finished up with class in the building next door and I wanted to see you before I left for work. I hope today goes better for you than yesterday."

He was so adorable and thoughtful and perfect. I leaned down and kissed his strawberry pink lips, they were soft and warm, and I wanted to stay in the hallway forever, melting into that kiss. But class was starting any second and I he had to leave too.  

"You've succeeded at making this day a thousand times better than yesterday. I wish I didn't have to wait so long to see you."

"Me too. I’m sure it’ll be worth it." He smiled at me, small and bashful, and I couldn’t help leaning down for one more quick kiss before he left.

“Positive," I whispered when my lips left his. I winked and his face turned a beautiful shade of rose. "I have to go to class now; thank you for coming to see me. I'll miss you."

"I'll miss you too. Have fun."

We went our separate ways. Alec's five minute visit had brightened my mood indefinitely and I felt ready to take on the world; not even Camille could upset me tonight.

Chapter Text

Jem POV:

Ring, ring, ring...

An unknown telephone number popped up on the house phone and I debated ignoring it in favor of staying where I was, camped out on the couch, elbow-deep in textbooks and empty tea cups, but the lure of a break won out over my abhorrence of telemarketers and wrong numbers.

I stood up, wincing. Time had gotten away from me, again, and I’d been sitting in the same position for far too long. I stretched while grabbing the cordless phone off the side table and walking into the kitchen with it.

Did I need food? When was the last time I’d eaten?

"Hello?"

"Hi, Jem?" I recognized Will's voice on the line. My pulse jumped from just hearing him, but I was curious as to why he was calling; he’d never done so before and we didn't have an appointment until Friday. In fact, I wasn't sure how he'd even gotten my number.

"Will?" I could think of nothing more intelligent than that to continue our conversation with.

"Yeah, hi, how are you?"

"Fine... You?"

"I'm good."

There was a long pause; apparently, Will hadn't planned out his conversation any further than hello’s. His awkward silence prompted me to speak.

"Were you calling for a reason or did you just miss my beautiful voice?"

He laughed into the receiver.

"A little bit of both possibly. What are you doing today?"

"What I'm doing every day: studying," I replied. It was, sadly, the pathetic truth.

"Could I tempt you into a break?" His voice took on a low and seductive tone, one that made me want to say yes to whatever he was plotting. But I didn’t. I had to make him work for it at least a bit.

I hummed, pretending to be thinking about his offer.

"That depends... What did you have in mind?" Spending time with Will vs. memorizing the names of all of the muscles in the hand... It wasn't a tough call as to which I would prefer. Unfortunately, the one I would prefer was not the same as the one I needed to be doing.

"I thought maybe we could have lunch?"

"Eh, that's not a very tempting offer; I have food here and diagrams of skinless hands too look at while I dine. You're going to have to up the ante," I joked, realizing after I said it that he might not remember I’d told him I was studying anatomy. I hoped I hadn’t just made him think I was some creepy, budding serial killer or something. He didn’t immediately hang up the phone, so I took that as a good sign.

"Well, that does sound difficult to beat. How about I take you out to lunch and a movie, and then you can study my living hands. You can even touch them if you'd like. Free of charge." I could hear the wink in his voice and I had to stop myself from rolling my eyes, even though I was enjoying the thought of his hands and the touching that could be done with them.

"That offer is almost too good to resist, but I really do need to get this stuff memorized by tomorrow morning.” It wasn’t a lie, but it wasn’t the only reason I had to refuse. What he was offering sounded an awful lot like a date, and that wasn’t territory I was eager to traverse. Sex was one thing, but dates led to feelings and that’s where things got messy. 

"Well... instead of going out for lunch, we could order takeout and I'll help you. I actually think I still have my old anatomy flashcards around here somewhere. I didn't take it that long ago, and I'm pretty sure the structure of the human hand hasn't changed much," he suggested, and I knew that any further resistance would be futile. I could survive taking a break for a few hours, especially since his revised offer sounded less like a date and more like a thinly veiled excuse to fool around. And anyway, if we did manage to actually get some studying done during that time, well, it’d probably be more memorable than doing it on my own.

Before I knew it, I was agreeing to an early dinner and providing him with the address to the apartment, laughing at the ridiculous innuendos he seemed unable to stop saying. I was struck again by how easy it was to talk to him, and how natural the responses fell from my lips. I had never been much of a conversationalist by choice, but talking to Will was a sport I could engage in all day.  

"Hey Jem!" Alec called through the den, breaking the spell that had encapsulated us. I ended the call in a rush, not needing or wanting for Alec to know about, whatever it was Will and I were doing. I wasn’t planning on it becoming a thing, so I saw no reason to bring it up.

I took a moment to collect myself, and then left the kitchen to greet Alec, curious as to why he wasn’t at work.

His explanation was telling in its lack of details, as was the tight set of his shoulders. He was obviously freaking out about his date – the first since his train-wreck of a relationship with the Bastard – so it wasn’t a surprise to me when he invited me along to a yoga class, seeking out something to calm his nerves.  I wasn’t particularly in a mood for yoga or planning to abandon my studies quite so early, but Alec had a notoriously difficult time in seeking out help, especially in the form of something safe and healthy, so I didn’t want to refuse and risk him taking it to heart. Besides, any refusal I made would have been eighty percent out of laziness anyway. It wouldn’t be a hardship to spend an hour toning and relaxing my body, especially before seeing Will later. My nerves were amped up in a decidedly different way than Alec’s, I was sure, but they were on edge either way, and I welcomed a bit of a distraction. 

After the class was over, Alec and I parted ways. I headed home to have a post-workout snack and shower off and he stayed behind to work on some strength training, of which I’d never been much of a fan.

I had just stepped out of the shower when I heard the doorbell ring. I looked at my phone; it was only 6:50. I'd told Will not to come over until later, after Alec would have already left for his date, so I assumed my friend had forgotten to bring his keys to the gym and couldn’t get in to our apartment. It wouldn’t have been the first time one of us had done so.

I dried myself off as quickly as I could, my hair still dripping rapidly cooling water down my neck, and wrapped an emerald towel around my waist, heading for the direction of the door as the bell was rung again.  

I glanced through the peephole and saw only the back of a head with black hair; he must've been leaning against the door waiting for me. I unlocked the deadbolt and opened it.

And nearly passed out from shock and embarrassment.

Will. It was Will, not Alec, who was waiting at my front door so impatiently.

It was Will, who I was now standing in front of wearing only a green towel that suddenly felt incredibly, excruciatingly small.

It was Will, who was staring at me with a smirk on his face and lust in his eyes.

"You could have just said you wanted me to come over so you could seduce me instead of making up that lame excuse about studying. I wasted thirty minutes of my life looking for these." He held up a hand, which contained a thick stack of flashcards with anatomical pictures on them.

"It wasn't an excuse. And I wasn't expecting you until later," I stuttered out. He raised an eyebrow and made a show of looking me up and down before replying.

"Then who, pray tell, were you expecting?"

I rolled my eyes, annoyed out of my embarrassment momentarily.

"I thought my roommate had forgotten his key; I just got out of the shower when I heard the bell."

"Well, are you going to invite me in, or would you like to stand here with the door open your neighbors to see you in all of your semi-naked glory?" he teased.

I groaned and motioned for him to come inside, closing the door hastily behind us.

Will was still smirking at me.

"Stop that," I snapped; annoyed at being caught so off guard.

"Stop what?" He sat his cards down on the side table, keeping his eyes fixed on my body.

"Staring. It's rude." I was starting to feel very self-conscious; I needed to go get some clothes on.

"Rudeness was not my intention, I assure you." He walked over to me and I felt my pulse quicken with the increase in proximity. “It would be rude not to admire such perfection standing before me.”

I resisted the urge to roll me eyes again, just barely.

"Well, I'll do you a favor and go get dressed so you can tear your eyes away." I intended to turn around and walk to my room, but I didn’t move. He was inches away from me, no longer staring at my body, but into my eyes, making it impossible for me to break the contact, impossible for me to want to.

"It won't help much; I can't seem to keep my eyes off of you even when you are wearing clothes." He reached out and placed a hand on the side of my neck, his thumb tracing a trail of water droplets across my jaw. I gasped, lips parting, and he moved in closer, head tilting ever so slightly as he slowly leaned in. His lips were soft and somewhat unsure until I put my arms around his neck and pulled him impossibly closer. Bolstered by my response, Will’s hands moved to my bare waist, right above where my towel was secured, encouraging me backwards a few steps until I could feel the cold wall pressed against my naked back. It reminded me that we were still in the middle of my living room – a living room I shared with Alec, who would be back from the gym any minute.

Will was surprisingly pliant under my directing touches, trusting me to guide us to my bedroom without once pausing his kisses. As soon as the door closed behind us, Will was pressing me against it and I was pushing his tee shirt up, breaking our kiss just long enough for him to tug it over his head and toss it somewhere across the room.    

"Will," I said, reduced to a breathless, whimpering mess by the hands exploring my naked chest. His calloused thumbs slid over my nipples at the same time his teeth raked across my earlobe and I thanked the stars for the sturdy door against my back, providing support where my legs no longer seemed able.

Will’s strong hands guided us to my bed, roaming over every piece of exposed skin within reach while steadily steering us. He overestimated the distance, causing us to both to stumble and me to fall back onto the mattress gracelessly. We laughed as I pulled him along with me, our bodies barely breaking contact.

My head fell back on the soft pillows, exposing my neck for Will’s mouth to take full advantage of. He sucked and bit at my flesh, moving lower and lower, and I let myself sink into the feeling. Usually by this point, I would have had the lights off and my shirt on. I hated the looks – the disgust at my pale skin that showed too easily acquired bruises and past scars, the flitted glances to crook of my arms and the array of needle marks on any given day, the horror and morbid curiosity. I hated being able to see how badly they wanted to ask, how much it distracted from the act. It was all they saw, the effects of my illness, marring my skin and tainting every encounter with its ever-lingering presence.

I hadn’t realized I’d closed my eyes and gone so far into my own thoughts until a particularly hard nip at my neck brought me back. Will pulled back, propping himself up on one elbow whilst cupping my cheek with his other hand. He was out of breath and his eyes held a slightly unfocused look to them, though he was regaining it fast.

"James?" He questioned, concern rapidly spreading across his face as my silence lingered on. “Do you want me to stop?” He looked like the question pained him to ask, but I knew that if I said yes he would, without a moment’s hesitation.

But I didn’t want to stop. Not with the way he had looked at me like I was something to be desired and devoured; the way he kissed me like it was an action necessary for life, the same as breathing and just so natural to him; the way he said my name, like a prayer on his lips, some sacred word unworthy of all other tongues.

I reached up and slid my fingers into his messy black hair, pulling his mouth back to mine so that we were barely an inch apart, my words being spoken directly onto his lips. “Don’t stop.”

 Will POV:

A small, tiny, minuscule part of me wished he’d answered differently, given me a reason to slow things down between us. This wasn’t what I’d called him for. Sure, I’d thought about it, I was only human, but I wanted to do this right. Everything with Jem felt too perfect to be real. I didn’t want to rush in a break the fragile spell surrounded us. But this, this felt too good to be denied simply for the sake of superstition.

Jem slid his hands down my back, squeezing my ass and grinding our bodies together, making me moan loudly into the crook of his neck. 

 "James."

His hands moved around to the front of my jeans, fumbling impatiently with the button.

“Off. Take these off.”

I chuckled at his demanding tone, but hurried to comply with his request. I didn’t want to break the physical contact between us, but it was worth it to be able to feel more of his skin against mine.

He watched hungrily as I shed the unwanted clothing.

"Like what you see?" I questioned, reaching my arms over my head in a stretch that did wonders for my physique.

(One may wonder how I know this, and to that I would answer: Full-length mirrors exist for a reason)

"It'll do," he replied calmly, though it was obvious that I was having an effect on him.

"If you're dissatisfied I could always leave..." I played along, pretending to reach for my clothes. Jem caught me firmly by the wrist and pulled me to the edge of the bed.

"The satisfying has yet to've begun." He spoke as he unwrapped the towel from his waist and dropped it to the floor.

He lay back against the mattress, trying to pull me along with him, but I resisted, needing to get my fill of the sight of his gorgeous body laid out before me. Silvery scars adorned his pale skin, like some ancient calligraphy that held a lifetime of stories, curving over the sharp angles of his form.

“We talked about staring.” Jem tsked, casually moving so as to subtly shield himself from me.

“Admiring,” I countered, kneeling on the bed and taking my time stretching out across him, dipping my head to kiss at various piece of exposed flesh as I moved so that we were once again pressed together, chest to thigh, our bodies contouring to one another like they were meant for it.

“Do you have a preference?” Jem asked, voice low and soft against my ear.

“No, but it’s been a while since I’ve bottomed. Or topped, honestly.” I confessed that last part fast and quiet, embarrassed, but for some reason compelled to honesty.

It’d been at least two years since I’d had sex with another man, back before my most recent relationship, and since that’d failed back in April, I’d only hooked up a couple of times to stave off stress and insanity. That relationship had kind of fucked me up, and I just hadn’t been into anything resembling another – or even just casual sex – since then.

Not until a few weeks ago, that is.

Smiling, laughing a little even, his gently nudged my side, maneuvering us so that our positions were switched and he sat straddling my hips. A sight, and feeling, that left me breathless.  

"Bú yào dān xīn," he spoke, slowly leaning down to place his lips upon my neck. (I had no idea what he had said, but it sounded beautiful and musical). His hands worked over muscles, fingertips tracing the rises and curves of my abs, the dip of my hips. His chest vibrated with a low chuckle as I bared my neck for him, mouth open in voiceless pleading, willingly giving myself over to his skillful touch.

"I'll be gentle... mostly," Jem added in afterthought, proceeding to run his teeth along my ear as his fingers found my cock. I arched up into his touch, losing myself in the sensations.

His mouth moved down my body, electrifying my skin with every wet, teasing kiss.

"Nǐ de shēn tǐ rú cǐ měi lì." His quick tongue drew patterns over my abdomen, breath cooling his mouth’s hot trail, as he shifted from straddling me to position himself between my legs. I’m not proud of the eager sound I made when he reached my cock, placing open-mouthed kisses up and down my shaft before dipping down and taking me fully into his mouth.

"Fuck...Jem." My hands clinched in the fabric of bunched sheets as he sucked forcefully. He hummed, the vibration of which set my nerves alight.

"Not quite yet..." He leaned across me, reaching into his nightstand to pull out a small bottle and square foil packet and return to his previous position between my thighs. His mouth resumed its purpose and his careful, slick fingers began the task of prepping me for what was to come. My breath hitched at the press of the first digit, too long unfamiliar with a touch not my own.

Jem, ever aware, noticed the discomfort I felt and worked to ease it, his tongue distracting and causing me to relax against the intrusion. I didn't need to say anything; it was as if he knew my body as well as I did.

“Breath,” he reminded, a second digit joining the first. My body tensed involuntarily and I closed my eyes against it, concentrating on breathing and letting go of anticipation and tension.

My legs fell further open to Jem as I grew used to the feeling of being filled and desire once more began to swell in the pit of my stomach. Jem took his time, muttering praise and encouragement, driving me insane with want. I needed more.

“James,” I growled, nearly begging. Jem’s lips curved into a smile against the inside of my thigh.

“Patience, patience.”

Slowly, far more slowly than required, Jem pulled away, and I watched eagerly as he rolled the condom on and slicked himself up.

He nudged my legs further apart, lining himself up and leaning forward. Soft hands traveled over my body, soothing and distracting; almost enough to ignore the sting and the too full feeling of him inside me, but not quite. It wasn’t unbearable, but it wasn’t yet pleasurable.

I watched his steady, calculated movements with lidded eyes and gave myself over to his complete control, trusting him to know my body as well as he’d already proven he did. Trust that was well placed, as no time passed before I was clawing at his back, pulling him closer with an ankle hooked around his waist.

His warm brown eyes stared down at me; face completely consumed with desire. The sight ignited the slow-building heat in my lower abdomen, and I could feel myself slipping into the beginnings of an orgasm.

Jem apparently sensed my desperation too, because his movements slowed and his hand moved to stop my own from reaching my cock. He leaned forward and tasted my mouth.

"I told you I would have you helpless beneath me for as long as I wanted," he said against my lips, punctuating the statement with a well-angled thrust that extracted a whimper from me that I hadn't intended to give.

If I could have come out of triumphant resistance, I would have.

(...There’s a sentence I’ve never thought before...)

Instead, I writhed beneath him in excruciatingly agonizing ecstasy.

"Please..." I begged, one hand trying in vain to pull him closer while the other struggled against his tight grasp. It was becoming too much; it felt too good.

He took mercy on me, letting go of my wrist, but not before placing my arm above my head, pressing into the pillow in wordless instruction to stay put. Then, he slid his own hand between us, thumb tracing circles on the head of my cock, lubricated by ample amounts of precum.

It still wasn’t enough, and he knew it.

"Please what?" He teased, nibbling my earlobe.

"Fuuucck! James!" His thrusts were becoming more determined and fast, the hand he was using to brace himself was beginning to shake. I wouldn't have to wait much longer; he couldn't.

I knotted my fingers in his hair, whispering, "make me come," in his ear before capturing his bottom lip between mine and sucking forcefully. He moaned deeply and set to work fulfilling my command.

Soon enough, I was biting down on his lip and arching my back, welcoming the waves of pleasure rippling through my body. His hand worked fast and erratic as his hips, squeezing tightly as his final movements sent us both over the edge; simultaneously crying out incomprehensibly, lost in the sheer bliss of it all.

 Jem POV:

When the world eventually stopped spinning, I collapsed on my back next to Will, who was breathing as heavily as I was. Neither of us speaking or moving, save to throw away the condom, for the span of a few moments.

Through the silence, I could faintly hear the sounds of a running shower; Alec must've returned home at some point. I hoped that he'd been under running water for a while; Will and I had been rather loud.

"That was..." Will began.

"Unexpected. And incredible." I finished for him.

Will rolled over into his side and slid an arm lazily around my waist, looking at me with sleepy eyes. It was an innocent enough gesture, but it jolted me nonetheless.

"You took the words right out of my mouth." He smiled and cupped my cheek with the hand he wasn't propping himself up on.

"Seems as though I'm rather good at that tonight," I teased. I was expecting some witty retort, but instead he simply leaned down and kissed me lazily, slowly deepening it. His tongue darted between my lips as his thumb gently stroked my cheek.

Everything started to feel much more... intimate.

That was not the kiss of a one-night stand or a friend with benefits; it held intensity and emotions and all those things that I desperately needed to stay away from. It was a kiss that signaled we'd gone too far and I needed to end this right now before it got out of hand any more than it already had.

I pulled back from the kiss, chest tightening with the reality of it all as illusion rapidly slipped through my fingers.  

“I’m going to need a few more minutes before we get started on round two,” I joked, hoping beyond hope that he would go with it and not say something to break the fragile delusion I was still clinging to that he was only interested in no-strings sex.

Of course, I couldn’t be so lucky.

“We’ve got all night. Besides, I wouldn’t dare take you away from your studies any longer,” he said in mock seriousness, peppering my skin with soft, light kisses in between words. “I can cook while you review, and then I’ll quiz you?”

No, no, no, no.

“You don’t have to pretend to still be interested in studying with me; we both know this is why you really came over.”

I tried again, giving him another out, another chance to take the hint and not push this any further. I’d known inviting him over was a mistake, but I’d foolishly, selfishly, given in anyway. Sex was fine, free of emotions or expectations, just acting on impulse and then it's over. No second dates, no sleepovers, no anniversaries.

No future.

No disappointing with what I didn’t have to give.

Will, of course, refused to cooperate.

“It wasn’t, actually. Not that I’m complaining, because goddamn that was incredible, but I wasn’t pretending to want to spend time with you.”

“I think it’s best if we don’t.”

Will looked at me, slightly confused and guarded. I sat up, disentangling our bodies and feeling the loss of his heat and weight far too acutely, as if he space between us were gaping miles instead of mere inches.

“With your job, and me being your patient – we shouldn't've done that; I shouldn't've let things go this far. I'm sorry-"

"Trust me; you have nothing to apologize for." He reached for my hand, perhaps thinking that guilt or a hurt sense of virtue had been my reason for speaking. It made what I had to do next all the more difficult.

"Will, don't." I closed my eyes and took slow, steady breaths, trying my hardest not to let the emotional tsunami that was raging inside of me show in my features.

"What’s wrong?" I felt him sit up, leaning in close. I swallowed hard, trying to keep my resolve.

If it's this painful now, just think of how worse it could be if you wait.

I had to remind myself that this was more for him than it was for me. He deserved someone else, someone better with a better future. I could already feel myself starting to care for him more than was smart to. It was so hard to ignore the connection we shared though; the way our bodies fit together, moved together, came together. It had been the most pleasurable sex I'd ever experienced, but that didn't change the fact that it could never happen again. It was, indeed, part of the reason.

I looked him in the eyes, those sparkling violet-blue, dazzlingly beautiful eyes, and deliberately placed his hand back on the mattress.

I tried to offer him a smile, but I could feel that it was a flat, meager attempt, and I knew he saw it too.

“This was fun, but we shouldn’t try to make it anything more than it was. You could lose your job if someone found out –”

“A fact we both knew this afternoon, and when we went out to dinner the other day. Besides, the PT stuff is just a temporary assignment anyway.” He shrugged away my concern.

"It would still be a problem, and it could affect your career in the future."

"Then we don't have sex at the hospital; I think that's an easy enough rule to follow..." He joked, his tone challenging me to counter.

This tactic obviously wasn’t working and I faltered, trying to find another direction to make my point with.

"You know it's not that simple."

"So what? You're saying that we should just continue our working relationship and forget any of this ever happened?" There was quite obviously a right and wrong answer to this question. Unfortunately, I had to choose the wrong one.

I took a deep breath, trying to work up the courage to say what I needed to say to get him to forget about me and move on.

"Yes."

There was a moment in which it felt as though all of the air had gone out of the room, then it all rushed back at once.

I thought that he might continue to try and fight my decision, but he didn't.

"You know, if you wanted this to be a one off, you could have just said,” he said, standing up and quickly pulling on his boxers and jeans, back to me. “I would have respected it. You didn’t have to make up shit excuses.” He grabbed the rest of his clothing on his way to the door before turning to face me.

“I expected more from you.” The look in his eyes was cold and disappointed, and it hurt just as much as the words that accompanied it. He left before I had a chance to respond, not that I had anything to say for myself.

I’d gotten the result I wanted, but I felt sick at the way things had played out, the way things had turned from so sweet to bitterly sour in such a short amount of time.

It was better this way. Better for him.

But I was suddenly feeling more alone than I had in a very, very long time.

I stayed in bed until the crush of reality numbed enough to move, then got dressed and picked up the violin that I hadn't played in a while. I was too busy for it; too busy for this, but it couldn't be helped. My chest ached and my brain was too full. The music was the only thing that dulled the pain; the only thing I could concentrate on aside from the cold look in Will's eyes when he'd left.

Chapter Text

Will POV

"Comfort food or booze?" Magnus asked when he got home from work Saturday night, leaning over the couch I had parked myself on hours previously.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I tried, futilely.

Magnus put a hand over his heart and looked down at me, offended.

“You know, it hurts that you think I wouldn’t recognize your suffering-in-silence routine by now.”

I groaned, wishing that for once he could have cared less.

“Jace wouldn’t have noticed.”

“Jace doesn’t love you like I do. Now answer me: comfort food or booze?”

"Both," I answered, resigned. I rolled onto my side and put the throw pillow over my head. I’d known this moment would be coming. After burying myself in work or the couch for three days straight, I couldn't not expect Magnus to notice and be concerned. I didn't want to talk about it, but that wasn't an option.

The only options were comfort food or booze.

Twenty minutes later Magnus came back home with hot pizza and brownies, and a bottle of soda – bonus of living in a college town: fresh hot pizza and brownies at all hours of the night.

One could never accuse him of not going the whole nine yards on these sort of things

He sat everything down on the coffee table and brought in two ice filled cups and a bottle of whiskey from the kitchen.

"Spill," he ordered while pouring us two Jack & Coke's. He pushed at my legs until I sat up, giving him room on the couch. I ran a hand through my mussed hair and grimaced. I needed a shower.

"What if I said I didn't want to talk about it?" I stalled, skipping the pizza and heading straight for a warm brownie.

"Then I would say you should have thought about that before I went out and bought all this stuff; and before you spent the last three days in nothing but pajamas or hospital scrubs and called in sick yesterday, even though we both know you never get sick. Yeah, I know about that,” he said to my shocked expression. I hadn’t realized he knew I’d called out. I just couldn't handle going to Jem's appointment and pretending like nothing had happened between us. “So spill. Who is this about?"

I sighed. Of course he would say 'who' and not 'what'. Magnus knew me too well.

I lay my head back against the pillows, defeated.

“I fucked up.”

“Fucked up like you said something you shouldn’t have and you feel bad about it, or fucked up like I need to call Raphael so we can start figuring out how to hide the body?”

That made me laugh in spite of myself. No one could ask for a better friend than Magnus.

“Fucked up like, I ignored my own advice and the consequences were instantaneous and painful,” I admitted.

“And which bit of sage William advice was it that you chose to ignore?” Magnus asked, reaching for a slice of pizza. He wasn’t going to let me off the hook until I spilled every last detailed. But that didn’t mean I was going to make it easy for him. There was always a chance that I’d frustrate him enough to give up the interrogation.

It was a small chance, but a chance nonetheless.

“The one with the great flame metaphor about how too little or too much oxygen extinguishes a flame, but just enough nourishes a raging fire.”

“Ah yes, I know it well,” Magnus nodded astutely.  

It was something my Da had told me when I’d gotten my first girlfriend – a girl named Jessie who was in fifth grade, a year above me. He warned me that a Herondale’s love is fierce and eternal, but we needed to make sure we didn’t suffocate the ones we loved with it. I didn’t really understand what he was on about when I was a kid, but as I got older, it was a piece of advice I’d tried to take to heart. It seemed like no matter how many times I reminded myself though, I was always dialed to one of the extremes, starving or suffocating, unsure of whether I’d ever actually learn how to find a balance.

“So who is this person, and why am I just now hearing about them?”

“He’s a physical therapy patient..." I started off, not really knowing where I wanted to take it from there.

Magnus blew out a breath and sat back against the edge of the couch.

“Will…”

“Look, I know, okay? But it’s not like he’s my patient; I’m just filling in there. The conflict of interest is practically non-existent.”

“So let me guess, you’ve fallen head over heels for this guy, but you can’t tell him because it’s an HR nightmare, so you’re wallowing in clichéd anguish.” As usual, Magnus instantly became much less sympathetic when he thought I was just being an over-dramatic martyr. “Where does the fucking up come into play?”

“You’re completely wrong. And I’m not wallowing, Mr. Sensitive.”

“Don’t even; you haven’t put product in your hair since Wednesday, and you’ve been taking up real estate on the couch almost every time I’ve seen you.”

“Moping, not wallowing.”

“Lack of attention to personal hygiene suggests otherwise.” He made a flourishing, up and down motion with his hand, indicating my state of disrepair.

“I showered yesterday!”

Magnus leveled me with a stern look.

“But did you?”

“Yes,” I said, second-guessing my recall now that he mentioned it. I didn’t want to admit it, but the past few days had started to all run together a bit.

“But did you?”

“I’m eighty percent sure that I did.”

“But did-” I put my hand over his mouth to stop the ridiculous spiral we were traveling down.

“We’re getting sidetracked.”

“You’re right, thank you for reminding me. So, tell me what happened then, if my assessment was so wrong?” He asked, offering a refill. I’d finished off my drink at some point and was already feeling its effects. Drinking on an empty stomach is always a bad idea. Don’t let anyone tell you otherwise.

I grabbed a slice of pizza, aiming to slow down the effects of the alcohol in my system.

Unfortunately, it didn’t work fast enough to halt the loosening of my tongue.   

“Alright fine, you’re a little bit right. But I’m not head over heels for him; I just…really like him. And the pining from afar thing lasted for about a week, but I swear to god he started it. It was just a little harmless flirting at first, I’m not the one who escalated it, well, not entirely, but then…”

“Then you came home with a hickey the size of Texas under your collar,” Magnus interrupted, poking at my shoulder.

“Yeah, that happened…”

“So what went wrong?”

That was the million-dollar question, wasn’t it?

“I have no idea. One minute things are great, and then next he’s kicking me out.”

“He didn’t give you any explanation?”

I shrugged.

“He said it was because of my job, and I tried to explain that it didn’t matter, but he was having none of it. To be honest, I think there’s another reason he didn’t want to say and he was just picked the most convenient excuse.” Like I was coming on way too strong and I fucking scared him off before we even had a chance to get started.

Well done, William.

“So why don’t you just ask him if he’d be interested if you two weren’t in a patient-provider situation and then get yourself reassigned?” Magnus suggested, as if it was the most obvious solution in the world.

“Well, for one thing, that would be logical, and we both know I’m not about that. And for another, I may have left things on not so great terms – on pretty final terms.”

“So instead of talking things out like adults, you heard rejection for the first time in your blessedly attractive life and shut down, is that about right?”

“Possibly,” I conceded, trying to recall the conversation between myself and Jem that I’d been trying desperately to forget. Was it foolish to think it could be that simple? Had I overreacted? Should I have stayed and talked it out? Leaving had felt like the right thing to do in the moment, but with hindsight I wasn’t so sure anymore.

“And you judge my love life,” Magnus huffed.

“Look, I was still in a sex-haze, okay? You can’t blame my brain for being a bit slow.”

“Wait, hold up. He said all of this right after you’d had sex?”

Whoops. I bit my lip, as if that could stop the words that had already spilled out.

“Yeah, did I forget to mention that part?”

“Yes. Yes you did. Forget what I said before, that’s a grade A dick move and there is no redemption for that. That guy can go fuck himself; he’s obviously not worth your time.” All teasing and playfulness was gone from his voice. He could joke when he thought it was me who’d fucked up, but the other way around? No laughing matter.

“It’s not as bad as it sounds, Magnus. You don’t get it, you don’t know him.”

“I know all I need to know. He’s a jerk and the sooner you stop thinking about him, the better.”

Magnus wouldn’t hear another word in defense of Jem, and in all honesty, he was probably right. I needed to let it go, let Jem go, but that was so much easier said than done. It wasn’t just that he was a good lay; it was everything about him. Just being around him made me feel… I couldn’t put it into words, and I couldn’t find a way to explain it to Magnus that would make him understand.

“Get up, get dressed; we’re going to Pandemonium,” he ordered, clapping his hands together to punctuate the finality of this decision.

“I’ll pass, thanks.” The last thing I wanted to do was go out to a night club.

“It’s not optional. Come on, I’ll be your wingman for once, instead of the other way around.”

“I’m really not in the mood,” I whined.

“Exactly, that’s the point. It’ll be fun.”

“Don’t you have to work tomorrow?” I was grasping at straws, and already moving to put the food and drinks away.

“I don’t go in until twelve, I’ll survive. Some things are more important than sleep.”

“Like clubbing?”

“Like proving to my best friend that there are plenty of other fish in the sea -”

“You know I hate that saying,”

“If you’d’ve agreed in the first place, I wouldn’t have had to use it,” Magnus said with a smile, following me into the kitchen to put our dishes in the sink.

“It’s already midnight.”

“They’re open until three, grandpa.”

I “accidentally” splashed soapy dishwater on him for that comment.

“As you so lovingly pointed out earlier, I haven’t showered and I’m a mess.”

“How long have we known each other? I know you can be ready by twelve thirty, so get your ass in the shower, and get to it!”

“You’re not going to let me say no, are you?”

“Nope. I’m going to go change. We’re leaving when I’m done, whether you’re ready or not, so I suggest you use your time wisely.”

Magnus retreated to his room to start his make-up – an activity that would buy me at least thirty minutes to shower and change clothes. I was unconvinced of the soundness of his plan, but appreciative of the gesture. He was only trying to help; the least I could do was give it a fair shot.

Pandemonium was a waste of time. All I managed to accomplish after a couple of hours was a significantly lighter wallet and a headache. Magnus, to his credit, was a great wingman. The opportunities were there, but the selection was… lacking.

Lacking that spark, that easygoing push and pull I’d had going on with Jem. No one had even managed to come close to replicating it at the club. There was only one person I wanted to be going home with. Magnus was frustrated with me, but didn’t give up his efforts until Pandemonium closed and we were forced to return home. 

It wasn’t a complete waste of time though, because I did end up having a good time, despite myself, and, as an added bonus, I got to watch Magnus come up with increasingly creative ways to turn down potential – persistent – suitors. It wasn’t something he was practiced in and his excuses became exponentially more outlandish as the night progressed and drinks added up. I wondered if Alec realized how lucky he was.

“I can’t believe I wore my expensive lipstick for you and you didn’t even try. Do you know how much this stuff costs? Wasted. Completely wasted,” Magnus admonished from next to me in the backseat of our Lyft.

“I’m sorry you wore your fancy lipstick and it didn’t get me laid.”

“It would have. You didn’t get you laid.”

“I thought the goal was to cheer me up, not specifically find someone to sleep with me.”

“It was. Did it work?”

“Yes, actually. Thanks.” I didn’t tell him I was in a better mood because I’d had a lot of time to think, in between dancing and karaoke, and I’d decided I wasn’t going to give up on Jem. Magnus had been right earlier – before he decided Jem didn’t deserve redemption. I should have talked to him more, figured out a solution instead of jumping to conclusions; should have apologized for assuming he wanted to go the relationship route. If he wanted to do the “just friends” thing, I could do that. It’d be hard, but I’d rather that than not have him in my life at all.

I couldn’t say that to Magnus though, because he’d think I was crazy and stage an intervention, but being with Jem was just too… good to let it go without a fight.

Yeah, like I said, crazy.

“So no more wallowing?” Magnus asked, pointing a perfectly painted nail at me, and I was only slightly distracted by the way the colors caught the light.

“No more moping.”

Magnus rolled his glitter-lined eyes at me, greatly exaggerated because of his inebriated state.

“Good, because plan B was reinforcements, and I know you don’t want that.”

“God no!”

Reinforcements meant Ragnor and Raphael doing the tough-love routine (insulting me and pretending it’s helpful) while Cat and Magnus ply me with booze and try to find me a rebound. I’d been through that before and, though appreciated, it was not my ideal way to spend a weekend.

We stayed up for another hour once we got back to the house, drinking enough water to stave off the impending hangovers and talking about absolutely nothing. I let myself forget about Jem for a while and just enjoy hanging out with my best friend.

By the time I went to sleep though, I’d thoroughly convinced myself that Jem was just being overly cautious and worried about the job thing and/or wasn’t looking for a relationship.

But that was fine. I could do that.

(I couldn’t actually do that, but I would try, for Jem. If he wanted.)

I had to at least give him the option, right?

Chapter Text

Alec POV:

In theory, a little over a week before I could see Magnus in person again didn’t seem that long. I had more than enough to do to fill my time and we talked plenty during downtimes. So it came as a surprise to me that by the time Friday finally rolled around, I found myself actually missing him. I’d never been like that before – counting the hours until a date. It definitely wasn’t that way with Sebastian.

We made plans to go out to a movie on Friday night, followed by dinner, and then on Sunday he, Izzy, Clary, Jace, and I were going to the park to help him out with his photography project. Magnus texted me Tuesday night to say he’d gotten the perfect picture to represent hate from his boss, Camille, and Thursday morning after he'd snuck up on Will, knocking out both the surprise and anger categories in under a minute. He just needed a few more shots, which hopefully we could all deliver on Sunday.

Besides missing Magnus, the majority of my time was taken up by work, school, and navigating around Jem. He’d been in a mood since Wednesday, but despite all of my efforts, he refused to talk about it or let me try to cheer him up. The most I got out of him was that it had nothing to do with his health, which was a reassurance I appreciated, but didn’t completely trust. Jem had a history of hiding that sort of thing. After two years of living together though, I’d learned that it was best to leave him alone and not push the subject, so I made sure the cabinet was full of his favorite teas and chocolate biscuits and let things be.

I handled the day of our date much better than I had the last time. I was less nervous and more excited. I concentrated on my classes and work just fine, only letting my mind drift when it wasn't busy and I had time to sneak a look at my phone or send a quick reply. Magnus was picking me up again, but I was choosing the movie – a new sci-fi action flick that promised a lot of violence and little to no awkward, sappy romance scenes.

I would've been just as happy staying in and ordering take-out for our second official date so that we could have more time just the two of us, but with how far we’d gone at the restaurant, it was safe to say that having actual privacy and being near my bedroom would lead to things I’d regret in the morning. Probably. We needed more time to get to know each other before jumping into bed together.

Right?

Right, no, of course we needed more time. We barely knew each other.

Not that that had stopped me from inviting him in last time.

I still can't believe I did that.

I got dressed for our date in a pair of black jeans and a gray thermal Henley. October meant the end of t-shirt weather. Magnus was on time – not that I was staring at the clock or anything because that would be pathetic – and looked amazing in emerald skinny jeans and a cream-colored long sleeved v-neck shirt. He kissed me in way of greeting and for a moment, I wanted to pull him back into the apartment and forget about our plans, but he pulled away before we could get too worked up. 

It's a good thing one of us has self-control.

"Hello gorgeous, I've missed you," he greeted, brushing a stray hair from my face.

"I missed you too," I replied honestly. Talking on the phone was nothing compared to seeing him in person.

I grabbed my jacket off the coatrack and closed the door behind me. Magnus took my hand while we walked to his car.

"How was work today?" he asked as we buckled up.

"Not too bad. I was in the back sorting through pieces of pottery most of my shift." I worked at the local historical society in the preservation department so most of my shifts involved sorting through pottery and cataloging it for the stacks.

"Sounds...interesting," he replied tactfully.

I laughed.

"It's okay, you can say dull. I actually don't mind it, but most people think its mind numbingly boring."

"So is that what you want to do with your degree? Work in a museum?"

"Angel no. Don’t get me wrong, I love my job, but I want to do something with my degree, make a difference. That sounds stupidly clichéd, I know, but anthropology has so many real world applications and I can’t stand the idea of just staying in academia and publishing papers that only a handful of people will ever read.”

“So what is it that you want to apply your anthropology to?”

“Ideally, something involving immigration and conflict resolution. One of my professors teaches classes at the medical college on understanding differences in cultural norms and how they affect patient care and response. I’d like to do something along those lines. What?”

Magnus kept glancing at me as I spoke, a soft smile on his face. It was making me self-conscious.

“Nothing. I think that’s an amazing plan.”

“I’m not sure if it’s actually realistic. Most grad schools I’ve talked to haven’t been encouraging of applied anthropology. My fall back is translating dead languages.”

Magnus laughed and asked me a few more questions about languages and I railed off on a tangent for the entire fifteen-minute car ride to the movies. Once I get started on Universal Grammar and Niche Construction Theory in regards to the evolution of language there is no stopping me. I had to give Magnus props for following through the whole lecture AND asking me clarifying questions that proved he was actually listening and not just nodding his head along to the sound of my voice (which I wouldn’t have blamed him for).

"So they can only trace language origins back 11000 years max?" Magnus asked, opening the door to the theater for me.

"Essentially. The Nostratic language hypothesis was put forth by Holger Pedersen in 1903 and he asserted that there was a common language ancestor for major language families of the world, such as the Indo-European, Finno-Ugric, Turkish, Manchu, Semitic, etcetera." Magnus shook his head, trying to digest the mouthful of information I'd given him.

"I've never actually given the origin of language or its innateness a second thought, but it really is fascinating. That may just be because you're the one telling me about it though." He winked at me, taking a place in front of me in line.

I attempted to order my ticket when he stepped away from the window, but he grabbed my hand and pulled me out of line, holding up two tickets.

"We agreed to pay for our own," I told him, rolling my eyes. He just shrugged.

"I forgot." He gave me a quick kiss on the cheek. "Most people love it when their date pays; you should just sit back and enjoy it." He was right, of course, but I'd grown so accustomed to doing things for myself that it just felt strange when someone did something for me. I just felt sort of, I don't know, helpless I guess. Whether monetarily or even something as simple as opening doors – which Magnus insisted on doing constantly – I hadn’t been able to depend on other people in a long time, it was going to take some getting used to.

We took our seats, avoiding the overpriced concessions that would ruin our dinner, and he immediately lifted the armrest so that he could snuggle closer to me. Despite my newly open attitude towards PDA, I was thankful we were in a dark theater, still weary of what other people might think. His fingers intertwined with mine and I had the urge to rest my head on his shoulder. I didn't do it, but I wanted to.

"I don't understand how someone can call that cinema; it certainly can't be called art." Magnus complained an hour and fifty minutes later. "The best part of that movie was the previews. Or the credits. I can't decide which."

"You're being too harsh. Yeah the script writers need to have their fingers broken, but the special effects were incredible, and the storyline overall was good," I defended.

"I suppose I can concede that there were some beautifully directed camera shots, and the scenery was nice. Maybe it would have been a good movie on mute." We both laughed at my horrible choice for a film and headed to the restaurant for a meal that would hopefully be better.

We went to a little Italian place within walking distance of the theater. It wasn't as amazing as The Institute, but I was positive nothing could beat that. Still, the Italian place was nice and had some delicious chicken parmigiana.

"So what exactly are we going to be doing Sunday?" I asked between mouthfuls of spaghetti, being extremely cautious with the unflattering and messy dish.

"Anything really. I want to get some shots of people having fun and such. I’m hoping to capture some great emotions between you and Izzy. Maybe I'll get something out of Clary, Simon, and Jace too, but I'm not too sure how that's going to go."

"Simon?" I hadn't heard the name before; I'd thought it was just going to be the four of us.

"He's Clary's best friend; Jace hates him but she wouldn't agree to do the shoot without him and I needed a larger pool of faces, so I told her to bring him along. Not to mention the bonus fact that anything that makes Jace mad is fully welcomed by me." He stabbed at his chicken Alfredo for emphasis.

"Why don't you like him? He's never been anything but nice whenever I've hung out with him. I mean, we mostly hang out to play sports, and he can get ridiculously competitive, but it’s all in good fun. He seems like a great guy." (He was also drop dead gorgeous, but I didn't think I should add that to the list of reasons to like him. It seemed an inappropriate thing to say to your date).

"Meh. He's an arrogant ass most of the time; he just turns on the charm when other people are around. If you’d ever had to share a living space with him, you’d understand." He didn't seem to take very well to my praise of Jace, so I changed the subject hastily.

"Well I hope you get the shots you need. Isn't it due Monday?"

"Yeah, I'm pushing it a little, but I really haven't had the time to get it done." He took a sip of his drink and continued. "You could always let me take some pictures of you after dinner... You'd make a beautiful model. And that blush would capture the sentiment of nervousness quite well," he added with a laugh as I turned red at his suggestion.

"Uhhh..." I couldn't think of a reply other than 'hell no', but I didn't want to put him off. I appreciated the offer, I did, I just dreaded the idea of being photographed one-on-one by Magnus. It was somehow too intimate of a suggestion, whether he meant it that way or not.

"Haha we can wait on a decision about that," he snickered.

It was only about nine thirty when we finished up with dinner, so Magnus again suggested we spend a little time working on his project.

"It'll be fun," he'd said when we reached his car, trying his best to convince me. I shook my head. "I'll make it worth your trouble, I promise. And if you hate the photos I won't use them." I bit my lip, contemplating the possible meanings for 'worth my trouble'.

If I said no the date was pretty much over, but if I said yes we'd get at least another hour together. However, that hour would be spent in awkward hell.

Decisions, decisions.

"Fine," I finally relented. He cheered and we got in the car.

"Where are we going?" I asked, realizing too late that I maybe should have gotten more details before agreeing.

"The park."

"You do know nobody's supposed to be there after dark right?" I didn't want to have to explain to a bunch of cops why Magnus and I were hanging around the park in the middle of the night taking pictures.

"No one cares. I've done plenty of shoots there after dark. As long as you're not drunk and don't litter no one minds if you're there."

The closer we got to the park the more butterflies I got, so that by the time we got there I thought I might faint.

I was standing next to the car, staring off into space when the first picture was taken. There was a bright flash coming from my left side where Magnus was getting the camera out if the trunk.

"Pensive," he titled.

"Blind," I retorted, blinking the spots in front of my eyes away.

"Sorry, the perils of night time photography. The moon's pretty bright though, so I can try a few shots playing with shadows and natural lighting." He looked around for the perfect spot and dragged me over to the swings where the moonlight reflected off the shiny metal.

"So, what do you want me to do?" I put my hands in my pockets, uncomfortable under Magnus's stare. He sat down, indicating I do the same and positioned me so that the moonlight hit my face just right.

"Just forget that I'm going to be taking your picture. Talk to me."

"About what?" My mind always went blank whenever someone told me to talk. I'd already exhausted the subject of linguistics and I doubted he wanted to hear about anthropological theory. I didn't even want to hear about that.

"I dunno. Tell me something I don't know about you." That was helpful. Not. That category covered just about everything. I ran a hand through my hair and heard the click of the camera.

"Well, what emotion do you want conveyed?"

"Any is fine. I'm guessing I'll get a lot of happy on Sunday, so not that, if possible, but you don't have to do anything that makes you uncomfortable." I glared at him pointedly and it took a second before my meaning sunk in. "Okay, you don't have to do anything that makes you more uncomfortable."

I thought for a minute, trying to block out the camera held up to Magnus's face and the occasional clicks from the shutter.

“It doesn’t necessarily have to be about you, if you don’t want. You can just tell me a story that makes you feel a strong emotion. Strong enough that it will show on your face.”

Well, I definitely had enough of those, but which one did I want to share with Magnus? Which one would make me seem the least fucked up? Now that was the real question. Obviously, that meant anything involving Sebastian was ruled out, and besides, I didn’t want to talk about him, not here with Magnus.

I decided on something a bit farther back.

“All right then,” I breathed deeply again and looked in the direction of the jungle gym, to the right of Magnus's shoulder. “Once upon a time, there were a brother and sister who loved to play hide and seek. They lived in an enormous house with lots of nooks and crannies, but even so, they eventually exhausted all of the best hiding places. One day, when the brother was down two-to-one, he decided to hide in the one place that his sister would never think to look because it was forbidden: their parents’ room. He went for the best hiding spot he could think of. Being nine, this obviously meant the closet. Their parents’ closet was huge with a partially slatted door, meaning he could hide in the coats and still be able to keep an eye out for his sister.”

I paused for a breath, making sure I wanted to go on with the next part. It might've been a bad idea to share such a personal secret with him because we really didn't know each other that well, but sometimes that made it easier to share. And I wanted to tell him. I wanted him to know everything about me and my past, eventually.

“After a few minutes, the boy heard someone open the door and he held still and quiet, barely breathing, trying not to draw attention to himself. But it wasn’t his sister. It was his mother, followed by his father. He tried even harder to blend in to the clothes around him – he was going to be in so much trouble if they found him playing in their room, so he waited, hoping they would leave quickly. Instead, they locked the door and started yelling at each other. It terrified him; he’d never seen his parents argue like that. He tried not to listen, because he knew he wasn’t supposed to, but he couldn’t help it. He didn’t understand most of what they were saying, but he understood that the woman in the pictures on his dad’s laptop wasn’t his mom. And she wasn’t wearing any clothes.” I trailed off, remembering the look on my mother's face as she held up the screen with the picture of the naked woman she'd found on my father's laptop.

The snap of a camera lens brought me back.

“After a lot of yelling and saying horrible things to and about each other, the boy’s parents decided that the best thing for everyone would be for his father to end things with his mistress and the whole affair would never be spoken of again, especially to the kids. And it wasn’t.”

“Alec,” Magnus said, pity evident in his voice.

I suddenly thought of something that hadn’t even crossed my mind. I reached out to Magnus, taking his hand and looking him in the eye for the first time since I’d started talking. The gold stood out well in the shadow that was cast over his face, giving them a magical cat-like appearance. “You can’t say anything about that to Izzy.”

“She doesn’t know?”

I shook my head.          

“I couldn’t tell her. Even after they kicked me out and I hated them. She’s always seen our parents’ relationship as the perfect model of true love. I can’t burst that bubble for her." I pulled my knees up to my chest and wrapped my arms around them.

"Of course. Your secrets are safe with me," Magnus assured me. “Wait, Izzy’s mentioned that you two have a younger brother, Max?”

“The other reason I never said anything. That story occurred about a year before Max was born. I always suspected he was a last ditch effort to save my parents’ marriage – which sounds so shitty, I know, but I would never say anything that would make him think that about himself. So you see, there was never any good reason to let anyone know that I knew. It would just hurt people who don’t deserve to be hurt.”

“Oh Alec, to carry such a big secret at such a young age… I don’t know how you managed it.”

“Not that well, actually. My relationship with my parents was never the same after that. I was angry and disgusted with both of them for a little while, but as I got older, I realized that my mom was just trying to keep everything together for her kids, and I couldn't blame her for that. I could still blame my dad though. Any time he made comments about my love life I just felt like decking him, because who the hell was he to give advice, you know? The man who cheated on my mother; on his family. It still kills me that he's going to be the one who teaches Max how to be a man. He doesn't deserve that privilege." I’d gotten more worked up than I’d intended, voice growing louder until the last bit, which came out as more of a disheartened sigh. A tear I was trying so desperately to hold back fell from my eye, down my cheek. My parents’ relationship problems didn’t bother me anymore, but thinking about Max, about everything I wasn’t allowed to be a part of, always got to me like nothing else. There was one more click and then arms were around me. Strong, caring arms that held me tight until I felt like I could breathe again. My head rested on his chest, unwilling to pull away and see the expression on his face; embarrassed by how vulnerable I’d let myself be with him.

Stupid.

Magnus, to his credit, just kept holding me, running his hands over my back, soothing me.

"I'm sorry," I whispered, pulling away and wrapping my arms around myself in a poor imitation of Magnus’s embrace.

"You have nothing to apologize for. I'm sorry. I shouldn't have asked you to do that." He looked genuinely apologetic and it made me smile, despite everything.

"You didn't. I mean, you said I could talk about anything. That's what I chose." Because I’m an idiot.

"Thank you."

My head snapped up to look, confused, at him. Thank you?

“For what?” Breaking down?

“For trusting me with that.” He looked down at my hands, which were now placed in his, when he spoke. "I'm sorry that you had to go through that without being able to tell any of them."

I half-shrugged, reeling from the fact that he wasn’t mocking me, that he wasn’t angry or annoyed that I’d made things so heavy with my oversharing. Was he even real?

"It's my own fault for eavesdropping and for not having the courage to confront them about it. By the time I was old enough to know I should've said something, it was too late; I'd kept quiet for so long and they both played the part so well. It would've been pointless to bring it up. I would have been the one ruining things at that point." That was what I had been telling myself since I was thirteen.

Magnus kissed my cheek where the tear had just been, then the other before softly placing his lips on mine for a too brief moment.

"It's not your fault. And it's incredibly sweet and brave that you protected your siblings from that for so long."

"Iz’ll kill me if she ever finds out," I told him, laughing a little through the pain. I would've hated her for keeping something like that from me, and I knew she'd feel the same, but I just couldn't bring myself to tell her and it seemed so pointless after all this time.

"I won't let her. You’re too cute to kill." He smiled down at me and I couldn't help but smile back. I wrapped my arms around his neck and pulled him into a deep kiss, wanting to be physically close after being so emotionally open. The fact that we were outside in the open where anyone could have seen us didn’t even cross my mind.  

When I eventually pulled back, I was struck by how incredible he looked. His dark, glittered hair sparkled in the moonlight along with his eyes, and his light shirt stood out brightly against his brown skin. His lips were parted slightly and he just looked so beautiful. I reached for the camera he'd left lying near to me, looking at the display screen to make sure I had it focused properly, and took his picture.

"Hey, I'm the photographer, not the model," he chastised.

"You looked too beautiful to not capture it."

He leaned in and kissed me, grabbing the camera from my hands.

"Funny, that's what I think every time I see you." He put his hand flat on my chest and pressed me back so that I was lying on the ground, then he climbed on top of me and placed his lips on my neck. I closed my eyes and let myself sink into the bliss that was Magnus Bane. He pulled back and before I could reach for him, I heard another click. My eyes popped open, horrified.

"Magnus!" I grabbed for the camera but his long arms and position on top of me made it easy for him to keep it away.

"Don't worry, that one's too good to go in the portfolio." He winked at me and my face ignited. He just laughed at my embarrassment and started clicking the camera again. I caught him off guard between photos and pushed him off me, pinning him as he'd pinned me and wrestling the camera from his hands. I managed to steal a kiss and take a few pictures before he had the upper hand again. We wrestled like that for a while, every now and then getting up and chasing each other around before one of us tackled the other to the ground. I found that I was much stronger than he was, but he was more flexible and could wriggle out of my grip surprisingly well. I didn't know how much of his memory card would be filled up with useless pictures of half faces or hands, but I didn't really care. I was having too much fun. The short sweet stolen kisses quickly turned into teasing bites and nibbles and groping. It was exhilarating and erotic wrestling with Magnus and for some reason, capturing his image while he was pinned underneath me was a much bigger turn on than I'd expected. I could feel that he was enjoying it too.

Eventually the camera lay next to us, forgotten, as our bodies pressed together, legs intertwined and mouths firmly fused. Magnus's hands slid under my shirt, shocking my warm skin with their coolness. I hooked a finger into his belt loop and pulled his hips closer into mine, eliciting a deep sigh from his lips.

"You know, I was never this much of an exhibitionist until I met you," I joked, sliding the hand that was just on his hip into his back pocket. He made a sound akin to a cats purr and licked just under my ear before sinking his teeth in. I was growing accustomed to Magnus's bites; more than accustomed, I craved them.

Clouds moved across the sky, shielding the moonlight. If my eyes hadn't been so well adjusted, I probably wouldn't have been able to see two feet in front of my face. As it was, all the darkness ended up doing was help to silence that little (almost nonexistent) part of me that reminded me we could’ve been seen by anyone walking around in the park. Granted, that should’ve been no one, but we were there without permission and there was the slim chance someone else could’ve been too. However, that thought lived only briefly in my mind before being replaced by sensations and fantasies. There was no room for logic right then. Besides, we'd managed to make our way out of the playground area and nearer to the tree line, meaning that if someone were to be in the park, they would’ve had to have been close by to actually see us. That was how I rationalized it, at least.

"God Magnus!" I moaned when he shifted hips, gripped my hair, and bit my neck all at the same time. The sensation made me arch against him involuntarily and I felt his breath catch at the motion.

"Dammit Alexander," I heard him mutter under his breath. Pushing our bodies apart, he lay on his back, breathing heavily, looking up at the stars.

What did I do wrong? I thought, panicked.

"You make it very difficult to be a gentleman, you know that?" he said, still not looking at me. I let out the breath I was holding, relieved that was what his change in attitude was about, and not that he didn't want to keep going.

I appreciated his restraint; Angel knew I didn't have any.

"Sorry," I muttered, more than slightly embarrassed. I closed my eyes and tried to calm myself down. His fingers caught mine and he brought them to his mouth, kissing each finger individually.

We lay in silence together for a few more moments before I tentatively scooted a little closer to him. He looked at me disapprovingly, but did the same until our sides were touching.

I wanted to say something; I felt like I should, but I didn't know what to say. Thank you? Next time don’t stop? I wasn't sure how to start the conversation we both knew needed to happen, and soon. Luckily, Magnus was apparently a mind reader and I didn't have to begin it.

"I want you to know that we don't have to go any further than you're comfortable with okay? I'm happy with what we have and I know I can get a little... overzealous sometimes, but I don't want to push you." He'd already proven that, but it was nice to hear it all the same.

"I know. Thank you." I kissed him gently and he pulled me into a hug. "We can... go further you know, just not... that far..." I managed to get out.

Way to sound like a mature adult, Alec.

I felt him laugh a little before kissing my cheek.

“Don't worry about it right now, there’s no rush. I should tell you though – and I’m not implying that this needs to be relevant to us at all any time soon but – I’m clean. I get tested every six months or so, just for peace of mind, and the last time was about a month ago, but if you wanted to go together I’m open to that. Whatever you’re comfortable with.”

I marveled at the way he could talk about that kind of thing without any hint of shame or reserve. Did it come with experience, or was that just how normal people communicated about sex? I had no idea, but it was my turn to talk and Magnus was waiting for a response.

“I’ve never… you know.”

That obviously wasn’t the answer he was looking for. He rolled over on his side so that we were face to face, propping himself up with one hand.

“Well that’s just irresponsible and honestly, there’s no excuse. The Well has free HIV and STI testing the first Wednesday of every month.” The Well was what our school called its health clinic.

I sighed and ran a hand through my hair, fingers catching on a stray leaf that must’ve got tangled there at some point when we were rolling around.

“That’s not what I meant.”

Magnus looked at me, questioning.

“I haven’t gotten tested because I’ve never needed to get tested.”

Magnus blinked at me.

Angel, he was going to make me spell it out.

“I’ve never had sex, okay?”

Magnus just shrugged; not the reaction I was expecting.

“I mean, that significantly lowers you risks, yeah, but there are plenty of nasty things you can contract orally... aaand by the look on your face I’m going to guess the rest of this conversation is irrelevant. Okay. Well. Okay. Okay.”

And there it was: the reaction I was dreading.

“Stop saying “okay.””

“Oka– sorry.”

“You’re weirded out.”

“I’m not weirded out. I’m just, surprised is all.”

The silence that followed was the most awkward thing I’d ever experienced. I wished for the ground to open up and swallow me whole.

“Are you not into it, or…?”

“No, I am,” I would have thought that much was obvious, “I just…” I didn’t know how to explain without going into too many details I wasn’t quite ready to share yet.

“Hey,” Magnus reached out and placed a hand against my cheek. “You don’t have to defend your choices to me. It’s nothing that needs explaining.”

“It feels like I need to explain.”

“You don’t, not unless you really want to. It’s fine with me.”

 “Thanks.”

He smiled and my mouth couldn’t help but reflect it.

“So, was what we did tonight okay, or was that too much?”

“Definitely not too much.” Or anywhere near enough.

“More?”

I nodded, heat pooling in the pit of my stomach at the idea of more.

“How much more?” His fingers trailed up my arm, giving me chills in the best possible way. I let out a shuddering breath.

“Can I – can I get back to you on that?”

“Of course,” Magnus said, lips brushing against mine. “In the meantime, if you ever want me to stop, just say the word and I will, no matter what.”

“I know.”

To my disappointment, Magnus pulled back – the opposite of what was good – and reached into his pocket for his phone, checking the time and sighing at the result.

"We should get going, it's getting late." 

I didn't want to leave. I wanted to freeze that moment and stay under the stars in the park with Magnus forever, but I was starting to get cold now that we weren't doing anything to heat us up, so I begrudgingly stood up from the chilly ground, wiping the leaves from my jeans and shirt. Magnus made sure his camera was clean before removing the leaves from his body and leading me by the hand back to his car.

"You're going to have a lot of pictures to delete," I told him as he put the camera in its case in the trunk.

"Doubtful. I'll just have a lot of pictures to sort through." He flashed me a wicked grin and my stomach did flip-flops.

"You can't keep them," I said, sounding more frantic than I’d intended, but less frantic than I felt.

"Sure I can.” He must’ve seen the panic in my eyes because he added, “I promise that you and I will be the only ones to ever see them. Just think of them as our own privately captured memories. That's the kind of thing you want to look back on when you're too old to remember for yourself; not boring Christmas dinners with the family and old school portraits."

The idea that Magnus would one day fondly look back on a memory of me made me relent all too willingly.

If he wanted to immortalize our time together, I certainly wasn't going to be the one to stop him.

Chapter Text

Magnus POV:

I spent the silent car ride from Alec’s house to mine replaying the evening over and over in my head. As hard as I tried to stay focused on the night’s highlights, my mind kept taking me back to our last conversation.

It was possible I wasn’t as cool with Alec’s little confession as I’d led him to believe.

And by possible, I meant I might have been freaking out a little.

A lot.

I was freaking out a lot.

 Will wasn’t home, and I didn’t really want to talk to him anyway. Over the past few days I’d gotten the impression that he thought Alec was too young for me, and this piece of information didn’t really do much to dissuade that argument. Even though we both knew sex had nothing to do with maturity, he would still use it as a point against Alec – especially in comparison with my own experiences.

I thought about calling Ragnor as I removed my make-up and got ready for bed, but the last time I’d gone to him for relationship advice he’d hung up and refused to take my calls for a week. I loved the man, but he had a tendency to be a prickly bastard and I didn’t want to deal with that tonight.

I just wanted someone to give me some real advice.

I checked the time then did some quick math to figure out if it was too early to call Catarina in South Africa. It was about six in the morning there, so I decided to take my chances on her being awake. I wasn’t sure what her work hours were – just recently starting her stint as a Peace Corps nurse – but it seemed like a safe bet that they’d be early.

She picked up on the second ring and I felt myself instantly start to relax. She would know what to say; she always did.

“Magnus! What a pleasant surprise.”

“Cat, temanku sayang! I miss you! When are you coming back to me?”

“It’s only been three weeks. You know this program is six months. So what’s up?”

“The usual,” I aimed for nonchalance while snuggling down into my pillows. The Chairman waited impatiently on my desk chair for me to stop moving and settle down so that he could take his rightful place on the pillow next to me.

“What is Will being unsupportive of now? Must be romance related, or you would have called Ragnor.”

Am I that predictable?

“Can’t I just call my best friend in the whole world without needing something?”

“I don’t know, I don’t think it’s ever happened before.” She pretended to be annoyed, but I knew she wasn’t. Besides, I’d just called her a few days ago to see how she was settling in and didn’t ask for a thing in return.  

“Oh hush, you know I love you and cherish your advice.”

“Which is why you’re calling me at… what is it? Midnight on the East Coast?”

I checked the clock on my bedside table while beckoning the Chairman to come lay down. I needed snuggles.  

“Give or take a few minutes,” I replied.

“So what is it, doll? What’s on your mind?” Cat’s playful tone turned softer to what the gang liked to refer to as her “counselor” voice.   

I took a deep breath and let it out. Here goes nothing.

“I met someone and he’s amazing,” I started, pausing for dramatic effect.

“But?” Cat supplied, well-practiced in my storytelling style.

“But he’s… different from my usual.” So different, and new, and excited…and terrifying.

“Different could be good,” Cat said, encouragingly. “Is he in school?”

“Yeah, he’s a junior.”

“Ooo points for ambition and not being a teenager.”

Well, she got one of those things right.

“Yeah, about that…”

“Not actually ambitious?”

“Not actually not a teenager…? He’s nineteen, but really smart, obviously, and mature, and-” I cut myself off, knowing how I sounded. Defensive. As if there were something I needed to defend. Which there wasn’t. Our age difference wasn’t what concerned me.

I could see Cat pinching the bridge of her nose and tilting her head back in my mind – her pantomime of the long-suffering mom, a role she took often with Ragnor and me.

“I thought we decided it was best to go in the other direction after that whole musician thing.” Cat refused to use Imasu’s name after she’d (and the rest of the gang) spent months putting me back together after he’d completely shattered me. Everyone hated him, but Cat’s hatred was particularly strong, since she’d been the one who found me at my lowest point and stayed with me until I finally remembered there were so many other – better – things to live for and that I had a lot of people who loved me – really loved me – and who were there for me.

Yeah, none of us liked to talk about the whole “musician thing.”

“We did, and I’m still holding with the spirit of the arrangement, just not the technicalities. Honestly, Alec is a capable, self-sufficient adult. And he’ll be twenty in a couple of months anyway.”

Cat made a humming sound like she was debating pushing the subject, but apparently decided again it.

“So if his age isn’t the problem, what is?”

"He's kind of, inexperienced. He’s only ever dated one other person.”

“Eh, that’s not that uncommon. He is only nineteen after all. Not everyone has as good of luck as you.”

“True, and I mean, as far as actual relationships go, I haven’t actually had that many. The thing is, I mean it when I say “inexperienced,” like, I’m fairly confident I’m only the third person he’s ever even kissed.”

“Oh, oh wow. In comparison, that’s…”

“Yeah.”

There was a pause while neither of us really knew what to say. Finally, Cat replied with what was essentially a vocal shrug.

“Does it really matter though?”

“I don’t know; that’s what I’m asking you. Does it?”

“Would you care if it was the other way around? If it was a bigger number?”

“No, of course not.” It wouldn’t matter to me if Alexander had slept with hundreds of other people, just so long as I was the only one on his mind right now.

“Then why should a smaller number matter?”

Well when you put it that way…

I shrugged, even though she couldn’t see me, disturbing Chairman Meow and earning myself a clawed squeeze on the shoulder. He was being very unsympathetic to my plight tonight.  

“I don’t know. I don’t think I’ve ever been anybody’s first… anything. What if I fuck it all up?”

“How could you fuck it up? He has literally nothing to compare it to. You are, by default, the best at everything.”

“That’s just it! What if he has all of these ideas and expectations that he’s comparing me to? What if he’s been saving himself for the perfect guy and I don’t match up?”

“Are you saying that you, the Magnificent Magnus Bane, are not perfect? I think I might die of shock right now.”

I waited for her laughs to die down before replying.

“Har har. We both know I’m perfect, so shut up,” I shot back, without any real venom. “I just mean, what if I’m not perfect for him?”

“Has he said or done anything to make you think that?”

“No,” I admitted.

“Then stop worrying about it. Expectations rarely match up to reality, and in most cases, reality ends up being better. So stop trying to meet his imaginary expectations and just be yourself. If he doesn’t like you for you, then dump him. It’s not worth the hassle. But sweetie, I’d lay money on the fact that you’re going to blow his expectations out of the water.”

“You think so?”

“How could you not?” Cat said, and her tone – as if it was the most obvious thing in the world – wrapped around me like a reassuring bear hug.

“Thanks Cat. I really do miss you.”

“I know, I miss you too.” She made an exaggerated kiss noise into the phone and I laughed, and then reciprocated. “So now that that crisis is over, tell me about him.”

“What do you want to know?”

“Everything.”

This was the reason I loved Catarina.

So I told her everything. I told her about how we met and my plan to find him; about the first time we kissed and how determined he’d looked leaning toward me on the couch. About the particular shade of blue his eyes were and how they looked under moonlight, like the ocean, deep and vast and full of wonder; about the way he bit his lip when he was nervous, and talked with his hands when he was excited.

“Oh Magnus, you are so far gone on that boy, aren’t you?” Cat cooed after I’d finally finished gushing about him.

“Completely,” I admitted, not even a little embarrassed about it.

“Does he make you happy?”

“Very.” I caught myself smiling just at the thought of him, an occurrence that was happening more frequently than not lately.

“Then go for it,” Cat replied simply.

“But Will –”

“Will is overprotective and if it were up to him you, Cecy, and Jace would all stay locked up in a tower for all eternity, protected from the dangers – and charms – of the world.” All true facts. I loved Will, we all did, but he could get intense about those sorts of things. Still, he was often right.

“You don’t think I’m being reckless?”

“Life requires a certain amount of recklessness, does it?”

“What if it’s a mistake?”

“Then it’s a mistake. You’re allowed to make those Magnus, to err is human. You can’t avoid relationships forever just because of a few bad experiences.”

A few was an understatement, but I let it slide.

“Maybe I’m just not cut out for the whole committed, long-term thing.” I said it lightly, but it was something I’d been afraid of for a long time. Maybe the Bane’s just weren’t destined for happily ever after’s.

“I don’t believe that for a second. You’ve just had some shitty luck is all; doesn’t mean you should give up. God you act like you’re centuries old, ready to throw yourself into spinsterhood – whatever the male equivalent of that is.”

“I do not,” I replied, offended by how spot on she was sometimes. “And I definitely wasn’t suggesting I give up on dating, just relationships.”

“Well that’s stupid. You are an awesome boyfriend and someone out there deserves you. Maybe it’s this guy, Alec.”

I took a second to think about her words, to think about Alec, and about what I wanted out of whatever it was we were doing. Relationships were messy, they took effort and required sacrifices, but they were worth it; having someone to cuddle and share secrets with, to sleep in with on lazy days, to come home to… gods how I wanted that with someone one day.

Maybe Cat was right, maybe that could be Alec.  

“I hope so,” I finally replied, truthfully.

“Me too, he sounds pretty great.” There was a beeping noise like the sound of a car horn and Cat yelled to someone away from the receiver. “Shit, I’m sorry, I have to get to work, but I’ll call you soon, okay?”

“Okay, Thanks Cat.”

“Of course. And the next time Will pulls that overbearing parent crap, tell him he can talk to me.”

“Will do,” I agreed, even though we both knew I wouldn’t, otherwise Will would be calling her on a daily basis. Besides, he only did it out of love, and I liked that I was included in his list of people he felt he needed to protect right alongside Cecy and Jace – even if he did get a bit carried away sometimes.

“Love you, Magnus.”

“Love you too. Bye.” I hung up, feeling better about everything, with the only weight left on my chest being a curled up Chairman Meow.

Chapter Text

Jem POV:

Knock knock knock.

Who could that be? I wondered, glancing up at the clock. It was 7:30 pm, Alec was at work, and he would just use his key anyway. I wasn't expecting company.

I scooped Church up off my lap and set him down lightly on a chair, then proceeded to walk to the door, entirely unprepared for what I saw through the peephole.

Will.

There was another round of incessant knocking and my heart sank into my stomach. I wasn't ready for this. I didn't want to face him, but if I didn't make him stop knocking soon the neighbors were going to get involved, and nobody wanted that.

I waited another minute, hoping he would just give up and go away.

No such luck.

I unlocked the door and opened it cautiously, looking everywhere but directly in his eyes.

"Will, what are you doing here?" I asked, trying to sound detached, even though I felt anything but.

“We need to talk; I shouldn’t’ve just left the other day, I’m sorry.”

Why was he doing this?

“Will, you don’t need to apologize, if anyone does, it me. I shouldn’t have – I should have said something, before things got out of hand.”

“I can’t say I’m sorry you didn’t,” he replied frankly.

“Will -”

“Look, is the only reason you don’t want this to happen because of my job or was that just an excuse?" he asked. His eyes were piercing through me like he already knew the answer to his question and was just waiting for me to verify it. I couldn’t do that though.

"Excuse me?" I sputtered, buying time for my brain to process what was happening, to come up with better excuses than I’d given him before. Obviously, those hadn’t worked.

"You heard me. I want the truth." 

The truth... The truth is that I haven't been able to concentrate on anything else since I kicked you out. The truth is that I regret every word I said because I can't stop thinking about the way your body fit with mine. The truth is that I am dying and you deserve so much more than I can ever give you and I wish you'd never walked into my life because now it hurts so much to keep you out of it.

"Yes," was all I said though.

"That was an either or question, Jem."

"Yes, it's your job," I lied.

"So the fact that I’m not helping out in the physical therapy department anymore… does that, change anything?” he asked, a hopeful smile on his face that was breaking my heart.

I hated this.

"Will, I told you I didn't want you to mess up your job for me." I stalled again, trying to build up the courage to just lie and tell him I wasn’t interested, anything but the truth to make him stop trying to pursue something between us. There was a stupid, selfish part of me that really didn’t want him to hate me, and I couldn’t convince it to let me speak the lie aloud.

"I haven't messed anything up, just switched departments. I’m not losing any hours; honestly, it’s not a big deal." His smile started to fade and his perfect brows knitted together.

Heavens he was a beautiful creature. His hair was a bit disheveled, as though he'd been running his hands through it, and, looking more carefully, I could see signs that he hadn't been sleeping. I hoped that I hadn't been the cause of his sleepless nights, but his actions told me I likely was.

“Look, if you aren’t interested in going out or hooking up again that’s fine, I’ve been friends with exes, I think we’re mature enough to get past a one night stand. I just,” he paused running his tongue over his upper lip. My eyes followed the motion eagerly. “I like you, I like spending time with you, and I don’t want one impulsive decision to ruin that.”

"Will I-" I searched for the words but I couldn't say them. I couldn't tell him why this would never work. It should've been obvious to him, but acted as if my illness didn't matter at all. "I can't do this to you..." I barely whispered.

“What are you talking about?”

I looked away. It was all too much to handle.

The sound of a neighbor’s door shutting reminded me that we were still standing in the entranceway, broadcasting my personal business for all the floor to hear – not that anyone was probably listening, but still, I didn’t want to have that conversation out in the open like that.

“Come inside, if we’re going to do this, it’s not going to be out here on the landing."

Will still looked confused, but complied readily. I walked over to the sofa and sat down; Will took a seat in one of the overstuffed armchairs. The small gesture hurt a lot more than I would have imagined it could. I ran a hand through my hair and took a deep breath, deciding how to begin.

"I don't want you to think that I didn't – that I don't have feelings for you, because I do, we just can't do this. It's not fair to you, and I don’t think I can be just friends with you."

"Is this the part where you tell me that your roommate is actually your wife and you can't go on lying to us both?"

I laughed loudly at the absurd accusation.

"My roommate is a nineteen year old guy."

"Well then, is this the part where you tell me that I'm too old for you because you are really in love with your nineteen year old male roommate?" His ridiculous guesses diffused the tension a little bit, making it easier to talk.

"No, this is the part where I tell you what you seemed to have forgotten, which is: I'm ill. Dying, in fact. There is not a future for you and me because there is not much of a future for me. You shouldn't be wasting your time on me and I can't let you. I like you far too much to let you do that." There was a full minute of silence where all that could be heard was a distant meow for Church in the kitchen.

Will stood up.

I thought he was going to leave, but instead he came over to the couch and sat down beside me.

"It's not really your choice who I decide to spend my time on, and I've decided I want it to be you, regardless of all of that." He put his hand on mine, but I pulled away.

"Will you not getting this -" I began, frustrated.

"No, what you're not getting is that I don't care. I've read your file, seen the statistics. I was your nurse first, remember? That stuff doesn't bother me, and you shouldn't let it get in the way of your life." He took my hand again and this time I let him, intertwining our fingers. Of course he'd seen my file; he had to know the poor prognosis, the short future of daily medications that don’t work, of deterioration, of endless hospital stays. Why the hell was he so unconcerned with it?

"Why?"

"Why what?"

"Why don't you care?" The only logical reason would be that he wasn't planning to invest emotionally; but I'd experienced firsthand that that wasn't the case. Besides, if he had been trying to keep it physical, he wouldn't have bothered coming back.

"Because I could get hit by a car on my way home tonight and die on impact. Or I could slip in the bathtub and crack my skull, or a million other possible day to day things could kill me prematurely. Life is cruel and often too short. I've experienced enough to tell you that much and I don't see any reason to put something off just because you're afraid of what might happen, because you know what? There's a strong possibility that it may never get a chance to happen." He spoke passionately, as if from very personal, first-hand knowledge. "I like you; you like me, I think... so why shouldn't we see where that takes us?"

It was a moving speech that rang true in many ways. I had taken that attitude towards my education and my career, why couldn't I take it towards my own relationships? Heaven knows I'd given Alec that same advice numerous times. I had no idea what the future held, good or bad; all I did know was that I liked being around the man sitting next to me very much, and if there was anyone I wanted to risk my time with, it was him.

"Okay," I replied after a moment.

"Okay?" he repeated, questioningly. He had just gone through a lovely monologue and all I had answered with was 'okay'. He probably deserved more of an elaboration, but I wasn’t feeling all that effusive just then.

"Okay, we can see where things go. But I don't want you to be exclusive."

"James, really?" He rolled his eyes at my request.

"Yes, really. You shouldn't be wasting your time with me at all, but if you insist on it, then the least you can do is keep your options open."

"Again," he scooted even closer to me, "that's not really up to you. I'm not going to see anyone else; if you want to..." he trailed off, but his tone said that it wasn’t an option he wanted to explore.

"I don't," I assured him honestly.

"Then it's settled." He grinned widely at me and leaned in for a kiss. I let myself sink into the action, thinking only of the here and now, the way he tasted of spearmint and smelled like that amazing cologne; the way his tongue swirled around in my mouth and his lips alternated between soft and hard pressures.

Will POV:

James Carstairs was a confounding man. An alluring, exciting, infuriating, tempting, frustrating, confounding man.

His reason for putting me through hell last week was noble, if not absurd. I appreciated his concern, even if he had gone about it all wrong, and I could forgive him. Maybe I was making a mistake, maybe Magnus was right, and he wasn't worth wasting my time on.

I didn't know, and frankly, I didn't care.

It didn't really matter; all that mattered was that I was genuinely happy for the first time since last Wednesday night and it was because I was kissing Jem again. It was reckless and one or both of us was probably going to end up hurt (again), but at the moment I didn't want to think about those things; worrying was for later, when I was alone. I had more important things to focus on in the present.

Jem was quickly on his back on the couch, legs pulled up at my sides as I pressed our bodies together in a way that made us both moan into our eager kisses.

"Will," Jem pulled away, breathing heavily. "I'm so sorry for, before. What I did, what I said." He looked at me with such earnest that I could barely breathe.

"It's okay," I managed to say back.

"No, it's not. Things were just getting to..." he searched for the words to complete his sentence.

"Fast?" I suggested.

"No. Well, yes we moved fast, but that part didn't bother me. It was just starting to feel a lot more, emotional, than I had expected." He blushed, but I felt strangely vindicated.

So it hadn't been just me. He'd felt it too.

"I'll try to be more stoic for you from now on," I joked, half-hoping that he would rebuke it.

"I'm not so sure you'd succeed. Or that I want you to now. I just -" He kissed up my bicep as he gathered his thoughts. "You shouldn't be wasting such emotions on someone like me."

I made him look me in the eyes before replying. "You," I kissed him softly, trying to convey my point before my words confirmed it, "are the only person deserving of such emotions."

His hands wrapped around my neck and pulled my mouth to his again, holding me with a fierce need; this time he was the one trying to convey a message without speaking. And it was coming through loud and clear.

Through a haze of passion, I vaguely registered and ignored the ringing of a telephone, but had to pull away once the message was finished.

"Hey Jem, I don’t know if you're home or not, but I just got off work and I'm gonna grab a bite to eat then head to the library to finish up a project. I'll probably be there all night so don't wait up. Bye. Oh, don’t forget to eat something. Okay, bye."

It must've been his roommate.

"Are you positive the two of your aren't married?" I teased, the heavy atmosphere broken with our kiss. He rolled his eyes and pressed his hands flat against my chest, pushing me off him.

"Jealous already? We've only been at this for what? Twenty minutes? Really William, you'll have to learn to control yourself better than that." It was as if the last week hadn't happened at all. He stood up and walked towards the hallway while he spoke, throwing me a 'come hither' look when he got to the part about controlling myself.

I arose and caught up with him as he reached the door to the bedroom I'd been in once before.

"Is that really what you want?" I asked, turning him to face me, firmly pushing him up against the door. "For me to control myself?" I dragged out the word 'control' while sliding my hand slowly between his thighs. He let out a gasp.

"Perhaps not..." He relented and I backed off enough for him to open the door and lead us into his room. He closed and locked it behind us, then grabbed ahold of my shirtfront and pulled. Our bodies crashed together, along with our mouths, and I felt his hands swiftly work the buttons of my shirt while his tongue slipped inside my mouth.

This hadn't exactly been what I meant when I'd said we should see where things took us, and it was probably wasn't the best idea to immediately jump back into bed with him, but I certainly wasn't going to start complaining, especially after what he'd said on the sofa.

I was up for whatever he was. Literally...

Jem's hands ran over my shoulders, slipping the white fabric off them and letting it fall to the floor. Fingertips explored the newly exposed skin and I inadvertently whimpered when they brushed across my hardening nipples. Jem grinned into our kiss, presumably at me revealing my weakness. Those soft, skillful hands pleasantly tortured me as he guided us over the bed and I worked to remove his clothing. The shirt had been thrown off into some unseen corner and I'd gotten the button of his pants unfastened when the back of my knees came in contact with the mattress. I sat down on the edge of the bed and Jem climbed onto my lap, placing one knee on either side of me, pressing our bodies together in a way that was both too much and not enough. I tried to concentrate on kicking my shoes off (which took a lot more mental power than expected) and after several failed attempts I finally succeeded, after which we moved further onto the bed.

We lay on our sides, legs intertwined, hands groping wildly. He tilted his head to give me better access and I sucked and nibbled at his pulse point; each graze of my teeth across his supple flesh caused Jem to grind our hips together more. My desire for him was growing too strong to be satiated with over-clothes fondling. I flipped him over onto his back and resumed my previous endeavor of removing his encumbering pants. They were quickly joined by my own, lying in a heap of the foot of the bed, lonely and unwanted.

The sight of Jem lying almost naked, aside from a pair of black boxers that contrasted sharply with the paleness of his skin, made my breath catch. I couldn't help marveling at the beauty of him, even though I'd already seen him before. His hair was tousled and his chest – tinged with a light pink flush – was rapidly rising and falling, matching the pattern of my own beating heart.

"If you're finished gawking," he rose up on his elbows, which showed off the definition in his biceps quite nicely, "I can think of a few other uses for that open mouth of yours." He reached down, hooked his thumbs under the elastic of his boxers, and pulled them down slowly, his eyes never leaving my face as I watched the reveal hungrily. He slid them to his knees and I finished the process for him before hastily removing my own.

I softly kissed my way up his thighs, enjoying the change in roles from the last time. Jem shuddered in anticipation as each kiss moved further and further up.

"William," Jem pleaded with that one word, begging me to move faster. I ignored him; instead positioning myself so that we were face to face.

"I want you to know that if you kick me out again there's only like, a sixty percent chance I will come back next time," I told him sternly, making a joke out of my very real insecurity.

"Well then, the odds are still in my favor." He smiled and reached his arm around my neck to pull me into a kiss. I resisted and Jem's expression turned serious.

"I am sorry."

"And?" I was still in need of reassurance that I wasn't being a complete idiot here. Jem ran his fingers lightly along my jaw, studying my features.

"And, from this point on, if it's up to me you won't be leaving my bed at all." His thumb traced the outline of my lips as he spoke. That was enough reassurance for me, but I couldn't help mocking.

"I thought we established earlier that your wishes carry very little weight in this relationship." His eyebrows rose at my use of the R-word, but he didn't correct it.

"I wouldn't say that; you are naked are you not?"

I had a feeling that I would be seeing the smirk that was on his face many more times in our future. It was a smirk that said: “You're really not as clever as you think” and “I win.”

And it was ridiculously handsome.

"Well if you're going to be so smug about it…" I sat up, making as if to leave. I couldn't set a precedent in letting him get away with it so early on. It wasn't as if I was actually going to go anywhere. I silently hoped he wouldn't call my bluff, or he'd learn just how easily he could wrap me around his finger.

Jem rolled his eyes and reached for me; one arm wrapped behind my neck, the other my waist, pulling my body on top of his. The hand at my neck moved upwards, grasping at my hair and guiding my face closer to his.

"Just shut up and fuck me," were the last coherent words spoken by either of us for a while.

Jem raised his arm over his head, his elbow bent. The way the sheet fell across the lower half of his body, his left leg bent over the side of it, exposed, his silver-specked hair messy and falling into his eyes, made him look like a model.

If my body hadn't been so newly exhausted I would have had a difficult time stopping myself from starting something. As it was, I was content to let my eyes wander lazily over the exquisite scene before me.

"What's this?" I traced my fingers along the large, thick black lines tattooed on the side of his ribcage. I'd wanted to ask him about it last time, but didn't exactly get the chance.

"It's a tattoo," he responded sarcastically. I vaguely wondered if there was ever a point at which the comebacks didn't come so readily for him, and if so, how I could get him to reach it.

"Really? I was sure it was an intricately formed birthmark." I continued to run my fingers over it lightly, moving further to the top of the piece, when he quickly grabbed my wrist and turned so that that part of him wasn't exposed anymore.

Someone's ticklish.

I filed that piece of information away for future use and went back to my question.

"I meant, what is it of?" He let go of my hand, but still lay in a defensive position, just in case.

"It represents fearlessness. My roommate and I got them when we first moved in here. It was his idea; I'd just turned eighteen and he was barely sixteen. We picked the most painful spots we could think of; being even scrawnier than I am now if you can believe that," I rolled my eyes at his description of himself. He was indeed slender, but definitely not scrawny by any means. There was a lot of perfectly toned muscle on that body. "I chose my ribs. He has boney feet so he chose the top of his left, I think. It may have been his right; it doesn't really matter. Anyway, it was supposed to be painful so that whenever we had to face something frightening, like moving into the city on our own, we could look back and think 'well, I made it through this, I can make it through anything.'" He laughed and ran his hand over the tattoo.

"And has it worked?" I inquired, finally allowed to put my arm around him again, though he was eyeing it suspiciously.

"In a way. I've been through a few things more painful than that, but this tattoo was the only one that I chose to put myself through. That in and of itself lends a small sense of power to it. It was like a rite of passage of sorts for us, a first step on making our own decisions and controlling our own lives. Whenever I'm feeling like I have no control over things, I remember that. I remember that I still have some choices left to me and that there was a point in my life in which I was fearless, if even for only a moment." He sighed and looked away, as if remembering less pleasant times when he'd needed the reminder. My grip tightened around his waist and I pulled him closer. It seemed to snap him out of his trance.

"Alec's gotten numerous other ones since then and has been trying to get me to get another, but I'm happy with just the one for now."

I didn't really care about how many tattoos his roommate had, in fact, I was getting a little sick of hearing about him. I know they live together and all, but I certainly don't talk about Magnus that much-

Wait a second did he say Alec?

"This is going to sound strange, but your roommate isn't by any chance Alec Lightwood, is he?" Magnus mentioned his tattoos just about every time he brought him up. They were black symbolic tribal looking things too.

"Yeah, do you know him?" Jem looked at me questioningly.

"Uh no, not formally, I know of him. He's going out with my roommate."

Jem raised an eyebrow.

Damn he is sexy.

"You live with Magnus Bane?" Jem sat back a little, his facial expression now masked.

"Yeah, we've known each other since we were kids; used to be neighbors. Have you met him?" I was hoping he had; maybe Magnus would be less harsh in judging him if he knew that he was Alec's roommate and friend.

"Just the once. He's very... Handsome." He sounded insecure. It was adorable.

"I suppose, if you're into that sort of thing. Personally, my preferences lie elsewhere..." I slowly raked my eyes down his body as I finished my sentence. I was rewarded with a blush and an eye roll.

"Good thing; I really can't pull off make-up." We both laughed and I grabbed him and started planting soft kisses all over his body.

He playfully pretended to fight me off until I reached his side; then it was no longer pretend.

"Will stop- I don't like that- WILLIAM!" He shouted at me while I dodged his slaps and tickled him relentlessly. I straddled him and grabbed both wrists, halting the onslaught of attacks. I pinned them behind his head with one hand and continued to tickle/torture with the other while he writhed beneath me.

"If you keep making this so enjoyable I may never stop." I smirked at him and he suddenly stopped the struggling that was grinding our naked bodies together, causing me to frown. "Let me rephrase that."

I leaned down and licked his slightly opened lips. "If you keep making this so enjoyable, I may have to stop."

He arched up and caught my mouth with his, sucking on my bottom lip before replying.

"I'll see what I can do..."

Chapter Text

Magnus POV

"Alright lovelies, here’s how this is going to work: essentially I just want to get some pictures of you guys goofing off and having fun. Don't look at the camera; don't even think about it. Just go hang out and forget I’m even here," I instructed the assembled group in front of me at the park. It was 2:00pm, Sunday afternoon and the weather was perfect to get my project done.

I’d told everyone to dress casually, whatever they’d normally wear to hang out outside. Alec was looking beautiful as always in an old faded black sweater and holey blue jeans. His sister was a little too dressed up for a day at the park, but I was sure it would look fine. Besides, those hot pink pants and silky cream-colored blouse looked adorable on her. The heels may have been a bit much for the grass, but they completed the outfit perfectly.

Jace was in nice fitted jeans and a tight t-shirt covered by a leather jacket and he’d spent a lot of time getting his hair to fall just right this morning. That was more for Clary than my little photo shoot though. The petite redhead had her hair pulled back in a long braid and was wearing jeans, converse, and a graphic tee with a long sleeved shirt under it. Aside from the scarf around her neck, she was dressed almost identical to Simon.

Jace had brought a football so they decided to play a game of 2v2 with Isabelle as referee, since she wasn't dressed for running around and tackling. She sat on the swing set and watched the game from a safe distance, yelling fouls whenever they were needed, or whenever she felt like picking on Alec. Jace and Clary were on one team, and my Alexander and Simon were on another.

It was like something otherworldly to watch Alec engaged in physical activity. He ran as fast as Jace, who'd won first place at every track meet in high school, and looked so graceful doing it. He also had an amazing arm for throwing, and catching for that matter. To be honest, it was really a game of football between Jace and Alec while Clary and Simon tried to keep up or simply distract one another from trying to intercept. Clary's height made it difficult for her to match the running pace and Simon's overall lack of coordination meant that the two friends spent a lot more time running around each other than anywhere near the ball.

I got some great playful shots of the two of them, Clary sticking her tongue out at a cross-eyed Simon, Simon pulling on her braid, dodging a slap.

I turned the lens back to Alec just in time to see him be knocked off his feet with a loud thunk by Jace, who'd rammed his shoulder into Alec's stomach. They both fell to the ground in a tangled heap of groans. I took a few shots while hurrying over to him, Isabelle not far behind. By the time we reached the pair, they'd rolled off each other, Alec clutching at his midsection, while Jace held his shoulder.

"Jesus, Alec are you okay?!" his sister yelled, kneeling by his side.

He laid flat on his back, arms still around himself.

"I'll be okay," he groaned, out of breath.

She reached for his hand to pull him up, but stopped abruptly at the queasy look on his face. He lay his head back down quickly. "I'm just gonna stay right here on this lovely flat ground for a minute or two. I think the shockwave from Jace's tackle burst all of my internal organs," he said it with a laugh, followed by a cringe.

"Yeah, well I think you dislocated my shoulder. What the hell do you have under that shirt, steel plates?" Jace moaned, sitting up while massaging his arm. I had very little sympathy for him; it was his own fault for being so reckless.

"They're called abs Jace," I snapped, annoyed that he was trying to take attention away from Alexander, who was clearly the victim in this scenario.

Alec laughed again, in the process of removing his sweater to reveal a loose white tee shirt underneath, groaning that it was too hot.

I couldn't help feeling smug and proud of how incredibly fit my – not yet, but hopefully soon to be – boyfriend was, even if he did still look likely to hurl at any moment.

Clary giggled and Jace glared at me.

"I know what they are, I am a stunning example of the six-pack," he lifted his own shirt for emphasis, looking pointedly at Clary. I heard Simon groan as he rolled his eyes. "I just wasn't expecting him to have any."

"What's that supposed to mean?" I asked, just about ready to smack him. That boy could get on my nerves like no other.

"Hey guys, I'm nauseous, not dead. I can still hear you." Alec looked at both of us and we immediately stopped bickering. "Now if someone could be so brave as to help me up, I will try not to vomit on their shoes." He sat up, taking shallow, careful breaths. “I make no promises.”

I slowly helped Alec to his feet; he still looked winded, but he said he was fine other than that.

"I think we’re done with football for the moment," Alec joked, motioning for everyone to disperse. Clary, Simon, and Isabelle walked off to give him some space and Jace came over and put a hand on Alec's shoulder.

I ignored the slight twinge of jealousy in the pit of my stomach.

"I really am sorry about that Alec. I wasn't expecting you to turn around and I didn't mean to hit you with that much force."

"Accidents happen, that's why it's called a contact sport. Is your shoulder okay?" He was such a caring person, putting other’s wellbeing before his own. I personally thought that the prolonged brushing of his hand over Jace's injured shoulder was a bit unnecessary, but I chose to ignore that too. Possessiveness wasn’t a good look on anybody, I knew from experience.

"Yeah, it'll probably take some heat tonight and be good as new by tomorrow. Don't worry about it." He finally removed his hand from Alec and walked over to Clary and Simon.

I moved to stand in front of Alec, giving him a cursory once over that I swear wasn’t just an excuse to put my hands all over his sweat-damp body.

"You're sure you're okay?" I asked him quietly. He stilled my hands with his own.

"I'm fine Mags, don't worry about it. And stop being so angry at Jace, it was just an accident."

I would have protested if it weren’t for the fact that I was too shocked about his creation of a nickname for me. It was a simple, probably unconscious, gesture, but it felt like we'd reached a new level of closeness; like he was growing more comfortable with me.

I realized I was standing frozen, smiling at him, and muttered out a reply. "If that's what you want. But I still say he was being reckless." My smile turned into a frown when I replayed the horrid scene in my head.

He reached up with both hands and ran his fingers over my forehead, then moved to the corners of my mouth.

"Frowns are unbecoming on you." He glanced back to where his sister was swinging with her back towards us now and leaned forward, brushing his lips against mine. I smiled into it reflexively, unable to stay grumpy in such a situation.

He pulled away and ran his thumbs over my cheekbones before speaking. "Much better. Now go and take some more pictures, I'll be over there with Iz." He let go of me and walked over to the swings. I tore my gaze away, even though I could have watched him forever, and tried to regain my focus on the matter at hand: getting good shots. I zoomed in on Jace, Clary and Simon or – as I had started referring to them in my head – the bickering trio.

I’d gotten some amazing photographs today. Not just for the assignment, but for my end of year portfolio as well. Even the weather was on my side. The sky was bright blue with white cotton ball clouds and the leaves were beautiful yellows, reds, and browns.

I took a break from my photography after a while and just looked around, taking in the beauty of it all.

Isabelle had removed her heels and was kicking her bare feet on the swings, trying to go higher than her big brother. They were such beautiful siblings – not just because they were both stunningly attractive, but because you could see how much they loved and cared about each other in everything they did. They were laughing and genuinely having a good time together. I used my zoom to get some good shots from far enough away that they wouldn't be distracted by my presence. I got an amazing picture when they jumped. Isabelle's raven strands blew around her face in the wind and she spread her arms out as if she were flying. Alec landed gracefully on his feet, a few inches past where his sister had come to a stop, also balanced. They talked for a few minutes, then started chasing each other. I could tell Alec was letting her win, ever the good big brother. She cartwheeled out of his reach and stuck her tongue out. He charged and grabbed her in a big bear hug.

"Nice acrobatics," I applauded, tired of the lack of interaction.

"Thanks." Isabelle flashed me a grin and went into a backbend, turning it into a flip.

"Impressive!"

Alec snorted at her showing off.

"Don't be rude, that's pretty amazing." I chastised, standing behind him and putting my arms around his waist.

"He's just jealous because he can't do them anymore," Isabelle informed me in a smug, mocking tone.

"Anymore? There was a time you could do that?" I asked, shocked. I was learning so much about my Alexander today.

"I can still do that, I just don't have occasion for it, like, ever," he half mumbled.

"I bet you can't," his sister goaded. He rolled his eyes, not taking the bait.

"Nice try."

"C'mon Alec, I wanna see," I prompted, pouting at him. He wiggled out of my grasp, realizing I wasn't his ally on this, but I was not about to let it go. Now that the image had been put into my head, there was no way I was letting him get away with not showing me.

Eventually, after many minutes of relentless pleading and prodding by Izzy and myself, he finally caved in to get us to shut up. He stretched a little then stepped away from us. He started off in a run, then did some insane flipping combination that left mine and Isabelle's jaws open, sticking the landing perfectly.

Laughing at the expression on our faces – especially Isabelle's – he then did essentially the same thing backwards, landing right back where he'd started.

"Holy shit that was amazing," I heard Jace yell from behind me. Alec's face was flushed, probably as much from the compliment as from the cold air. He shrugged, trying to dispel the attention.

"I can't believe you can still do that so well," Isabelle spoke in awe and disbelief.

"I was forced into those classes for five years; it's all muscle memory now."

"Yeah, but you have to have practiced since then. I took cheerleading all through high school afterwards and I'm still a little rusty sometimes." Isabelle sounded more than a little jealous at her brother's lithe acrobatics.

"So I practice sometimes at the gym; what does it matter?" Her questioning was obviously agitating him.

"It doesn't I guess. I'm just impressed is all." She dropped the subject and I took the opening to get some clarification.

"So I take it you two took gymnastics when you were kids?" I asked.

"Izzy took gymnastics for five years and I was forced to accompany her because my parents thought she needed her big brother there to look after her." Alec shot his sister a mean look, taking a seat on the ground against a tree.

"Hey, I don't know why you're still complaining about that. You had the best upper body strength of any kid in your class. And it wasn't ballet like I really wanted; you're the one who won."

"Oh yeah, because a choice between gymnastics and ballet for a thirteen year old trying to figure out his sexuality is really a win," Alec quipped sarcastically. That caused all three of us the laugh.

"Whatever. You know you loved it. Especially when you got medals."

"Wait a minute, there were medals?" I cut in, suddenly dying to hear the stories behind them.

"Okay this conversation is officially exhausted," Alec said hastily.

"No, it's definitely not," I countered, about to ask Isabelle to elaborate.

"Yes, it definitely is. Izzy stop talking; I have dirt on you too."

Isabelle mouthed: "I'll tell you later" behind his back, but conceded to his request aloud. I smiled triumphantly, barely able to wait for our next after class session at the Starbucks.

"I think I have enough pictures to choose from if you want to go ahead and leave," I told her, noticing the time. Alec, who’d had his eyes closed, opened them and looked at me questioningly. "Not you darling. I'm kidnapping you. But the girl is free to go." Isabelle giggled and gave us both quick hugs. "Thank you so much for your help," I said to her as she pulled away.

"No problem. It was a lot of fun. Let me know if you ever need me to do it again." She went over to Jace, Clary, and Simon, and I took a seat next to Alec on the ground.

"So what are your plans for me, oh kidnapper?" he joked, resting his head on my shoulder.

"Well, I don't want to ruin the surprise, but it involves a blindfold and some handcuffs..." We both laughed heartily, though I must say that could think of many a real plan involving a blindfold, handcuffs, and my favorite blue-eyed boy.

We sat together and watched as the rest of our group gathered their things to leave. Simon was trying to show Isabelle how to throw a football properly (which, was strange because from what I’d witness he didn't know how himself) and she was failing at it miserably. It may have had something to do with the fact that the entire time he was talking she was concentrating on flirting, not learning.

"They make a cute couple. Strange, but cute," I commented, watching as Isabelle finally grew frustrated of the football and chucked it at its owner while Clary and Simon tried to hide their amusement.

"I don’t know; I mean he's obviously into her, but she clearly only has eyes for Jace."

"I'm not sure the world could handle Jace and Isabelle as a couple. That much vanity in one relationship is bound to tear a rift in the universe," I teased, knowing that it we were probably talking about two different couples. He obviously hadn't been paying much attention to the scene.

"What?! Why are you talking about my sister dating Jace?!" Apparently, though he chided me for speaking ill of the golden boy, he didn't want him anywhere near his baby sister.

"I wasn't. I was talking about Isabelle and Simon. You said she wanted to be with Jace."

"I thought you were talking about Clary and Simon." He shook his head as if trying to clear horrible mental images from it. "Simon's not her type. He's too...nerdy. And infatuated with his best friend," he added, watching the four of them walk away, Jace with his arm around Clary, a brooding Simon and talking Izzy behind.

"You never know. Sometimes you don't fall for the person you're expecting to." I smiled at him while I intertwined our fingers. He blushed and smiled back.

"So what does the kidnappee want to do for the next few hours? I can't stay out late because I need to get these photos uploaded and organized, but I'm all yours until the sun goes down."

"I don't care as long as it involves some hot chocolate. It's getting cold," Alec declared, pulling his sweater back on and rubbing his arms. I chuckled and stood up, pulling him up along with me.

"Come on, there's a lovely cafe about a block from here."

We walked hand in hand to the cafe, musing over various moments in the day.

Our one cup of hot chocolate turned into two, and a plate of pumpkin spice scones, and two and a half hours of contented chitchat. He elaborated a bit on the story of his forced gymnastics training and explained his skill at football – apparently his middle and high school afternoons were spent on every sports team possible; trying to be the "man" his father wanted him to be. It was a wonder the boy ever slept at all during his adolescence, what with his advanced courses on top of that.

I loved listening to his stories about his childhood. Despite the occasional tint of sadness or disappointment – generally caused by his father – he’d had a rather full and joyous one. Something I myself hadn't been blessed with. I could relate to his high school days somewhat because that was when things had started to take a turn for the better; and yet we'd still had very different experiences there.

I steered the conversation away from my early childhood as much as possible, sharing tidbits of when I’d met Will and the hijinks we used to get up to in high school instead. I wasn’t ready to get into all of that with him. It wasn’t something that needed to be discussed, possibly ever, if I could help it.

I steered the conversation in a different direction when he the questions started getting too personal for my taste. Why talk about the past when the present and future were so, so much more interesting?

"Are you going to be busy tomorrow?" I'd had to suffer through an entire week with hardly any time to see or talk to him; I didn't care if it sounded needy, I wanted to spend all of my newly acquired free time with him, since midterms would be coming up soon and then we'd both be too busy breathe, let alone date.

"Sadly. I'm supposed to be making study guides for Stevens' midterms, which means that I will most likely be revising the half-finished tests that he's come up with so far. I'll probably be in the office all night."

He looked almost as disappointed as I felt.

"There's always Tuesday," I suggested.

"Possibly."

I glanced out the window at the sinking sun and grimaced. I really needed to get my project organized and finished. His gaze followed mine.

"Looks like our time is up," he sighed.

We gathered our things and walked slowly back to my car, milking every last moment together. We made tentative plans to see each other again Tuesday night on the car ride back to his apartment, then took our time saying goodbye.

After spending the bulk of the day watching him run around like a Greek god showing off his masculinity (and flexibility), a few heated kisses proved achingly ineffective at quelling my hunger for him, but it would have to do for the time being. I wanted nothing more than the opportunity to run my tongue over every single one of those taut muscles that my hands were currently caressing. The idea was making it difficult for me to force myself to stop.

Surprisingly, Alec's devotion to good grades gave him willpower that was lacking on our previous dates.

"You should go work on your assignment," he told me breathlessly as he disentangled himself from my grip. "I'll text you later." With a squeeze of my hand and a small peck on the cheek, he was gone and I headed home, unsatisfied and longing once again.

Chapter Text

Will POV:

"Hey, we’re going out to dinner," I “suggested” to Magnus when I got home from work Monday night. He was lying on the couch with that devil fluffball of his, watching What Not to Wear.

"All right," he agreed without pause, clicking the television off and turning his attention to me. "Are we celebrating, or do you just not want to cook?"

It was a fair question as there was an equal chance for both to be correct.

"Celebrating, in a way, and I'd like to spend some time with my best friend. That new boy toy of yours is monopolizing all of your time nowadays," I grumbled, kicking my shoes off at the door and plopping down into a chair. I'd been on my feet since 8 am and they were exhausted.

"Says the man who spent last week moping around in his bedroom, then stayed out ALL day Thursday, and snuck in late Friday night. Yeah," he added, catching the surprised look on my face, "I noticed."

"Midnight isn't that late; at least not for people without bedtimes." I recovered with a joke about Alec's age because I knew it got under Magnus's skin. He was only a few years younger than us, so it really wasn't a big deal, I just thought it was hilarious how touchy Magnus got when I pointed out that it was still two years before he could even legally drink. Or, as he reminded me every time, a year and a couple months.

I took a pillow to the face for that remark, but it was worth it. I was going to have to deal with the eventual fallout when this thing ran its course, so I figured I might as well start pointing out the flaws. The sooner Alec was out of his system, the better. I hadn’t met him yet, but something told me this one had potential to do a lot of damage, maybe even more than Camille – maybe even more than Imasu – and I wasn’t going to sit back and let that happen again. Even if it meant I had to play preemptively offensive.

"So are you going to tell me where you've been sneaking off to then? Hopefully to someone more deserving of your presence this time around."

I got up quickly and headed for my room; now was not the time to bring that up, I wanted to spend dinner talking Jem up in hopes that he would change his opinion of the man before I revealed that we were now dating.

"Over dinner. I'm going to take a quick shower; start putting on your make up," I yelled over my shoulder.

An hour later we were sitting at a high top in the bar sharing a bruschetta appetizer while we waited for our dinner to arrive. Honestly, it was a wonder of nature that Magnus was as lean as he was. I spent extra hours at the gym to work off my indulgences; he just went for a jog once in a blue moon and didn't gain a pound. It was the kind of natural gift that made you want to punch him every now and then.

We'd gotten dressed up for a night on the town, despite the fact that neither of us had intentions of picking anyone up. Magnus almost never dressed specifically for other people – he liked to impress, but that was a byproduct of his fashion, not the reason for it – and I was just enjoying being out of scrubs for a little while. I mean, if anyone could make scrubs – or as we like to refer to them: colorful shapeless sacks – look good, it was me, but occasionally it felt nice to put the effort in and watch all the hearts break.  

Magnus was in a cheerful enough mood to choose lemon yellow to be his theme for the night. The pants he wore would have been blindingly painful to look at one anyone else, but somehow the man pulled them off. They matched the new yellow streaks in his hair that would probably be some different shade by Wednesday; Magnus got bored easily and liked to match far too much to keep any one offensively bright color in for too long. His makeup was as loud as the pants and his shirt was essentially a second skin it was so tight, though at least it was a less blinding color.

I'd decided on a deep emerald button up with a white vest and similarly colored pants. We were quite a sight, if I did say so myself.

I took a sip of my beer and decided to test the waters.

"Hey, so you've met Alec's roommate, right?" I led in.

"Yeah, just the once."

"What did you think of him?" I hoped my casual tone wouldn't give anything away until I was ready. I wanted an honest opinion untainted by the events of the last week and a half.

Magnus took a sip of his martini and pondered for a moment.

"I don't know. Seems like the quiet, aloof type."

"Sure you're not confusing him with Alec?" I jested, just to get on his nerves as he munched on his fourth piece of bruschetta. He made an unattractive face at me.

"I don't think we've said more than a handful of words to each other. Though, I'm pretty sure he was in cahoots with Isabelle to get Alec and me alone for the first time, so he gets points for that. But he did also interrupt our evening by coming back home, so he loses points there. Why are you asking?" He seemed to have finally realized that this was a strange line of questioning.

"You know that patient I was telling you about?"

"The jackass?"

"He's not a jackass," I defended. This was not a good start.

"We can agree to disagree on that point. Continue."

"Well, they just so happen to be one and the same." Magnus almost choked on the food in his mouth.

"That's not possible. Jem seemed so... Nice. And quiet. And Alec talks about him like he's a saint. Are you sure it's the same Jem?"

"He is nice and yes, I'm sure. Though, he definitely isn't quiet..." Magnus grimaced at me.

"Eww. I didn't need to hear that."

"Just because you're not getting any doesn't mean I have to remain celibate in camaraderie." I didn’t actually mean to do it that time; honestly, sarcasm is just a reflex by this point. I definitely wasn't putting him in a good mood to hear Jem's case, as he now looked as if he was going to dump his drink in my lap. "I'm sorry, that was uncalled for. I actually do think it's good that you're taking things slow for once." I made my face look as apologetic as I could and he finally caved.

"Apology accepted. So, back to this Jem thing. You’re giving the guy a second chance? That’s very unlike you."

"I know, and generally I wouldn't, but Jem's... different." I wasn't sure how best to describe it without going into the whole story and sharing details that were private and not mine to share. I hoped Magnus could just take my word for it, but I knew better than that.

Magnus POV:

"Will, just because he's the first guy, the first person, you've been attracted to since Tessa, doesn't mean that he's anything special or that you should put up with being treated like that. I know it's been a rough couple of months, but you don't want to jump out of the frying pan and into the fire, as the saying goes." I saw him flinch at the mention of his ex-girlfriend's name, but someone had to say it. I couldn't help but feel that this whole thing with his patient was just a belated rebound that was going to do him more harm than good. And it was obvious to me that, despite that bullshit excuse about not wanting Will to mess up his job for him, Jem didn't have my friend's best interests at heart.

"It's not like that. I don't know how to describe it, but something is different with Jem. I felt more comfortable around him after two weeks than I did with Tessa in two years."

Our conversation was interrupted by the delivery of our entrees, so I held my tongue and eyed him suspiciously until our appetizer plate was cleared away and our server had left us to enjoy our meals.

"You seemed pretty sure of things during the first couple months with Tess too, if I recall properly. It's called infatuation."

"And you would be an expert on that, wouldn’t you?" He snapped back. I should have expected it; Will hated criticism, especially over matters of the heart, and discussing Tessa always put him in a bad mood. Yet, it still stung me deeply. Deeper than he realized.

I'd spent the last several nights pondering over that same question, wondering if what I was feeling for Alec was real or simply an extension of my lustful longings towards him. I couldn't believe that it wasn't real, especially since I was experiencing so many more emotions aside from lust. New emotions: jealousy, compassion, contentment... happiness.

That was the thing though; all of this was new to me. I wanted to tell myself that all of my fortnight long relationships had made me immune to the effects of infatuation, or at least had schooled me in it enough to know that this was different, but how would I know? Yes, I felt differently about Alec that I had about anyone else, but did that mean it was real or just that it was slightly more real than the others?

I tried to hold on to Catarina’s reassurances, but it was hard when Will was making such a good case for the opposite.

I was lost.

"It's not," I managed to get out in some sort of cracked whisper-like tone that I didn’t know my voice could do. Will, who'd been studying his steamed broccoli the whole time, looked up at me and his features immediately softened. He reached out and took my hand.

"Hey, something going on I should know about?"

I shrugged, not trusting myself to speak at that moment.

He scooted his chair closer and put an arm around my shoulder.

"You know I didn’t mean it; I just worry about you."

“I appreciate your concern, but I really don’t think it’s necessary this time.”

“You didn’t think it was necessary the other times either. I’m just looking out for you. Besides, you’re the one who came up with the “no one under twenty one” rule, I’m just the person you made swear to make you uphold it.”

“Yeah, but that was about maturity, not age. Age is an arbitrary number when it comes to maturity. It was a stupid rule.”

Will looked at me pityingly.

“You have to hear what you sound like right now.”

I did, but there wasn’t anything to be done about it. Why couldn’t he be like Catarina and accept my judgement?

I kept trying.

“Look, Alec is leaps and bounds more mature than anyone I’ve ever dated.”

Will laughed, a short burst of air through his nose that held more judgement than a courtroom. “That’s not as reassuring as you think it is.”

“Just, trust me on this, okay?” I pleaded. He was reducing me to pleading, for fuck’s sake. When did I lose control of this conversation?

“Trust you? Like when you said that Camille just liked to look, but she would never touch?”

“Alec isn’t like Camille, in any way.”

“And what about Imasu?” Will was pulling out all the stops tonight. Like Cat, Will never mentioned Imasu if he could help it, not after what I almost… not after that. It wasn’t a time period either of us revisited if it could be avoided.

“I learned my lesson about dating musicians. I don’t think Alec even knows how to play an instrument.”

I deflected, irritated at that comparison, even more than the one to Camille, Alec was nothing like Imasu, and our relationship wasn’t like that. This wasn’t a toxic obsession – even Cat could tell that over the phone a continent away! Why couldn’t Will see it?

 “You’re evading the point.”

“I’m not, you’re just trying to make a point where there is none to make. Alec is…”

“Different? Is that the word you’re looking for?”

I walked right into that. He looked so smug I almost got up and left on principal.

“Shut up.”

“I’m just saying, how can you expect me to trust your judgement when you won’t trust mine?”

“Because, my judgement is based on actual events, whereas you’re just preemptively hating on my boyfriend out of some misguided protective instinct.”

Will’s blue eyes widened, eyebrows raising as he sat back on his chair, staring at me. It wasn’t the reaction I was expecting and I ran my words back over in my head, trying to figure out what had caused his shock. Certainly not what I’d said about his instincts, Will was the first one to admit that he was overprotective. 

“Your boyfriend?”

“I –” Did I really say boyfriend? “I just meant…”

“When did it become official?” Will asked, cutting off my backpedaling.

“It hasn’t. Yet. I’m thinking about asking him soon though,” I admitted. Despite Will’s feelings on the subject, I couldn’t help the small part of me that craved his approval. I valued Cat’s advice and opinions, but I needed Will to get along with Alec. He was the closest thing I had to family and, if it came down to it, I couldn’t, wouldn’t, let somebody come between us, not matter how much I liked them.

I really hoped it wouldn’t come to that. 

“Isn’t that a bit fast?” Will asked, his tone of voice making obvious that he thought it was.   

“Is it? I don’t know; it’s not like it’s set in stone or anything.” I squirmed under his eyebrows of judgement. “He probably wouldn’t even say yes if I did ask.” I tried to make that last part exude a “devil may care” attitude, but by the change in expression from Will it was obvious I’d landed more towards the pathetic end of the spectrum.

“Well he’d be an idiot to turn you down,” Will assured me.

“So now you want him to be my boyfriend?" He was giving me conversational whiplash.

“No. I want you to be happy and with someone who deserves you. If he doesn’t see that you’re way out of his league and do everything he can to earn that title, then he’s not worth your time.”

“You’re ridiculous. I love the sentiment, but you know a comment like that would earn me or Jace or Cece a smack against the head and an hour long lecture.”

“Yeah well, I’m not talking about myself, so I can say it.”

I stared at Will, and he stared back, both of us challenging the other, but neither one taking the first step.

We were at a stalemate and we both knew it.

Finally, Will threw his hands up, sighing.

“Can we call a truce? We’re supposed to be having a nice dinner and all we’ve done is fight since we got here.”

My shoulders sagged in relief. I hated fighting with Will.

"You’re right. I’ll promise to keep your concerns in mind if you do the same, deal?” I offered, knowing it was the best either of us was going to get. We could either keep bickering all night and get nowhere, or we could stop now and get nowhere. The choice seemed obvious.

“Deal. Now come on, let's talk about something else, shall we? How’re you classes going?"

We launched into a conversation about the assignments I was looking forward to and the professors that bored me to death, leading Will to commiserate by reminiscing about his college days.

After an hour or so the server came to take our empty plates away and Will got up to go to the bathroom. He'd barely left when a girl, who was obviously more than a little drunk, came over to our high top and leaned against the table in front of me.

"Hi," she said with a smile, twirling a strand of hair with a manicured finger.

"Hey," I answered with a generic smile I’d learned from years of customer service, trying not to sound encouraging, but also not wanting to be rude.

"I don't usually do this," she began, her voice soft and steady, despite the strong scent of alcohol coming off of her. "But, you're really cute and I was hoping we could go someplace more private and get to know each other a little better." She leaned forward so that her bosom was practically spilling out of her top and she was biting her lip, which really didn’t work in her favor at all, because it reminded me of Alec and how cute it was when he did it. It was cute on her too, but she was a few weeks too late for it to not be wasted on me.

"I'm sorry, but I'm actually seeing someone," I told her, not wanting her to waste any more bravery on me. Coming on to a stranger takes guts.

Instead of leaving gracefully as I'd expected, she moved even closer.

"She doesn't have to know."

The implication made the contents of my stomach sour. She was suddenly reminding me too much of Camille. How many times had she done this while we were dating? It did no good to go down that road; it didn’t matter anymore.   

"I don't think he would appreciate that very much," I replied, with a bit more venom than I’d meant to.  She looked put out for about half a second, and then shrugged, still not leaving. This was going to take more effort, I needed Will.

I took my phone out and texted SOS to him.

"So how about it? A little harmless fun to stave off the boredom of a Monday night? You'd obviously rather be out drinking than back home, so why not kill a few more hours with me?" She gestured to the beverage in my hand, because of course that was the only logical explanation for being out on a Monday night. How silly of me to have not thought of that.

As I tried to come up with another way of saying no that she might actually listen to, I felt Will's arms slide around my waist.

Thank the gods.

I turned my head slightly and gave him a kiss on the cheek, whispering "thank you" in his ear as quietly as I could so she wouldn't hear.

"I'm gone for five minutes and you find a replacement! Whatever am I to do with you?" He tilted his head down and returned the cheek kiss and adding a nuzzle for effect. “You’re just too attractive for your own good.” His mouth moved to my neck, and the girl slipped away indignation hiding her embarrassment. Will laughed and let go of me, slinging back into his seat.

"Ick you should stop putting so much cologne on your neck, it taste disgusting." He took a sip of his beer to wash the taste away.

"Well I wasn't expecting to be on the menu for tonight, thanks for that by the way.”

“That’s what I’m here for. Now, what’s for dessert? Besides you, that is.”

I swatted at him with the dessert menu, and then searched through it for the item with the most chocolate. A night out was not complete without chocolate.

When we returned home some hours later, I was in a cheerful mood. I was still harboring some doubts about Will’s recent life choices, but talking about Alec, having to defend my choice to take things to the next level, had cleared up some things for me. Mainly that Cat was right (as usual), and I needed to give myself a chance to have something good with Alec, something that wasn’t just superficial.

That cheerful mood shattered, however, when I walked into the house and noticed the odd sight in Jace's open bedroom.

Alexander, my Alexander, passed out.

In bed.

In Jace’s bed.

In nothing but his underwear.

Chapter Text

Alec POV:

It was half past nine by the time I finally finished up with Stevens. I’d created study guides to all of his midterms, which also meant making his midterms in some instances, which was why I was there so late. And why I was starving. I'd barely eaten anything all day.

I stopped in at the first decent looking place I passed on the walk back to my car. It was a nice place, with booths and a bar and a little area for a live band. I'd never been there before, but I had seen how crowded it could get on a Saturday night, so I assumed it must be somewhat good. Honestly, I was so hungry that their menu could’ve consisted solely of hot pockets and I wouldn’t’ve cared.

Standing in the entryway, waiting for the host to call on me, someone by the bar caught my eye. I’d thought at first that it was Magnus, seated next to some girl I’d never seen who was leaning too far into his personal space to be platonic, but it couldn’t have been. I shook my head a little, I was hungry and exhausted, and now I was hallucinating.

Great, could this day get any longer?

I thought about texting Magnus just to tell him I missed him – obviously enough to be hallucinating him at random bars – but as I reached in my pocket for my phone, someone else joined the man at the bar. As the stranger’s arm slid around the man’s waist, he turned slightly, giving me a better view of his face.  

It was Magnus.

It was Magnus, with some guy’s arm around his waist, looking like it belonged there.

Suddenly I wasn’t hungry anymore; my stomach felt like it was full of lead.

Calm down Alec, maybe it's not what you think. Just go talk to him.

I had almost convinced myself of that too, when Magnus tilted his head up and gave the man a kiss on the cheek, whispering in his ear afterwards; the man said something that I couldn't hear and kissed him back, then put his mouth on Magnus’ neck.

I couldn’t watch anymore.

I turned and exited the restaurant immediately. I felt like I was going to be sick. My heart started pounding so hard that my chest hurt and I felt like I’d had a bucket of ice water dumped on me. I could feel the tendrils of an anxiety attack grasping at me.

I had to get away from there.

I started walking, fast, not caring where I ended up, as long as it was far away from that place.

Maybe there’s a reasonable explanation, I thought, grasping for something to calm me down, something to latch onto. In my state though, the only explanations I could come up with worsened the tightness in my chest and the stabbing pain beneath my ribcage.    

I tried to make myself take a deep breath, but the chill of the air was painful in my already overtaxed lungs. I needed to go inside somewhere.  

I made myself stop and read a street sign. Harrison. Okay, good. Taki’s was only a few blocks away in the same direction. Taki’s was a local favorite because the diner was open 24/7 in a college town, had super cheap, delicious food, and never carded.

I only cared about one of those things right then.

I picked up the pace, having a destination in mind, and tried, and failed, to not replay the scene in my head again, and again, and again.

I wrapped my arms around myself, gripping tight to my elbows, trying to stop the shivering that had nothing to do with the cold. My skin prickled everywhere, like a million tiny needles trying to poke through the surface. I squeezed my elbows harder and thought about the way my nails would bite into the skin if my jacket weren’t in the way. But it was, and just thinking it didn’t make the prickling go away, or the crushing weight constricting my chest lessen, so I bit the inside of my cheek hard enough to taste blood and prayed that today wouldn’t be the day Taki’s decided to start asking for IDs.

I walked faster.

This wasn’t happening.

This couldn’t be happening.

Except…

Why wouldn’t it be happening? my brain oh so helpfully supplied. Magnus wasn’t my boyfriend; we’d never discussed being exclusive, whether that was something he wanted, or was even willing, to do. I’d assumed that because I was, he was, but maybe we weren't on the same page about that. Maybe he was keeping his options open until we had something more concrete. Or maybe he didn’t do exclusive at all. I had no idea; we’d never talked about it.  

Look at him. He could have anyone, everyone, he wanted. What could you possibly have to offer to someone like him? Why would he ever want to give up all of that for just you?

I couldn’t help thinking that the only person I had a right to be mad about in the situation was myself, for ever believing that someone like Magnus would be interested in being with me. I wanted to hate him, but I couldn’t find it in myself to direct my anger any direction by inward. Izzy would have been able to find a way, but I couldn't stand the thought of talking to her about it. What if she confirmed out loud what I already knew in my head to be true – that I didn’t deserve Magnus, that he was too far out of my league, that I shouldn’t have been stupid enough to expect him to want to be my boyfriend. I didn’t think I could handle that. Not right then.

So instead of calling Izzy, I took a seat in the farthest corner of Taki’s and ordered the first thing alcoholic I found on the menu. The server didn’t ask any questions, just took my order and told me it’d be up shortly, leaving me to my misery.

You shouldn’t have told him you’re a virgin; the bitter thought twisted my gut. Yeah, I shouldn’t have told him a lot of things.

But Magnus wasn’t like that; he wouldn’t have said he was okay with it, with me, with us, if he wasn’t, would he? He would have told me it was a problem, wouldn’t he?

I wanted to believe he would have.

I mean, what we had done so far had felt extremely substantial to me, but it wasn't anything that could be considered fulfilling, especially not for someone like Magnus. But, he’d said he was okay with the pace I’d set.

Had he lied? Or was he okay with it because he was seeing someone else, someone more willing, more experienced; someone better.

That thought made my stomach ache worse and my heart speed up as if it were trying to compete with a hummingbird.

When my vodka came – something called a Crimson Coma that tasted like raspberries and soda and a LOT of vodka – I downed it in one sip and ordered two more.

The tension in my body eased up a bit once the alcohol kicked in. The anxiety attack was ebbing away – though I knew numbing myself with alcohol was only a temporary solution. Still, it was better than the alternative.  

I should have never let Izzy get involved in my love life. I shouldn’t have gotten my hopes up that it could ever work out between Magnus and me. I couldn’t do casual relationships like Izzy or Jace could; for me, it was all or nothing, and I was an idiot to think that someone as attractive, and funny, and charming as Magnus would want to settle for me.

I wanted to be grateful for the little piece of his attention that I did hold, to be happy enough with that; I wished that I could be, but I knew that I would never be happy sharing him like that and it wasn’t fair to either of us for me to pretend that I could be.

With that thought, my server came over and supplied me with more of the tools I needed to stop the invasive thoughts running wild in my head.

A few more mind-numbing drinks later, I heard someone calling my name from somewhere close. My arms were folded in front of me, cradling my head, and I didn't immediately recognize the voice, so I had to look up.

Room, please stop spinning, you're making me sick.

When my eyes came back into focus, I recognized the golden haired guy who was now taking a seat across from me.

"Hey Jace," I squinted at him, trying to keep the image in focus, and attempted not to slur my words. I failed. Not that it mattered.

I finished off my fifth (sixth?) Crimson Coma, wishing that it would hurry up and live up to its name. I just wanted to sleep and forget about everything, for as long as possible.

"Alec, are you drunk?" He looked surprised, but approving. He was always trying to get me and Izzy (and therefore Clary) to go out and drink with him. Something I’d always been firmly against in the past.

"Sadly, not drunk enough," I managed to mumble, looking forlorn at my now empty glass.

"Hey, what's wrong? You don't usually drink like this, do you?" He'd finally noticed how horrible I looked apparently. Good job Jace, very perceptive.

"Nothing. And everything. Just leave me alone." I shook my head and immediately regretted it.

"Do you want me to call someone? Izzy, or Magnus-" I grabbed his hand, harder than I'd meant to, when he reached for his phone.

"No! Don't you dare call him. Just leave it, all right?"

Jace being Jace, didn't just leave it.

"Why? I thought you two were hitting it off. He's your boyfriend, right?"

I glared at him with as much venom as I could muster in my state.

"Wrong. Magnus is not my boyfriend, because if he were my boyfriend he wouldn't be out screwing somebody else right now would he?" I practically growled through clenched teeth. I didn’t want to talk about it; why was he making me talk about it?

"Whoa, whoa, hang on a minute. What? Why do you think he's cheating on you? I've known the guy forever Alec, he wouldn't do that." Jace looked genuine enough in his statement, but I knew what I’d seen.

"It's not cheating. Can't be cheating when we aren’t even dating. You can’t break rules that don’t exist." My drunken mind explained. "And you're wrong. I saw him kissing another guy; he looked like me, but it wasn't me, therefore, he is not now, nor will he ever be, my boyfriend." My voice cracked on the end of my little speech, much to my dismay. This was exactly why I didn't go to Izzy's. I didn't want to talk about this. I didn't want to say it aloud because then it would be true and Magnus would be gone.

"I'm not sure what you think you saw, but you should just come home with me and we can get this all sorted out. I promise." He motioned for the server to get me my check, even though I hadn't agreed to that plan at all.

I didn't want to go home with Jace. Despite his getting-prettier-by-the-minute face and pleading eyes. I just wanted to stay there a wallow in my pain.

I couldn’t say I minded all that much when he reached into my back pocket to grab my wallet though.

I was heartbroken, not dead. And very, very drunk.

I let him lead me out of the diner and help me into his car. My racing heart had slowed to a dull thud; as long as I didn't think about him or hear his name, it wouldn't start racing again. I was feeling too hot now, instead of too cold; courtesy of the vodka, and my stomach was still doing somersaults, but that was to be expected.

Jace drove us to row house in the city. I vaguely remembered Magnus saying he lived somewhere around there, but even just thinking his name hurt, so I stopped, focusing instead on getting up the four front stairs without falling on my face. The firm grip on my arm helped me with that a lot more than my feet did. Jace unlocked the door and led me to the couch, going to the kitchen to pour us two glasses of water.

I laid my head against the sofa's back cushion and closed my eyes. The world was spinning and all I wanted to do was go to sleep. Forget about the past few hours and just let my mind go blank. I took a deep breath, trying to fight back the wave of nausea that was creeping up on me.

That's when I smelled it.

Jace’s couch pillows held the faint smell of sandalwood and vanilla. They smelled like Magnus.

It hit me hard, harder than it had a right to, but I wasn’t in a state to deal with that kind of sensory overload.

I pulled my knees into my chest and rested my forehead on them, not being able to stand smelling that scent anymore. The muscles in my stomach constricted painfully and I felt the familiar wave of coldness crash over my body, running down from my head to feet, stiffening my shoulders, numbing my fingers, stinging my spine. The world was closing in on me and it was all I could do to manage breathing.

I heard Jace say my name again and felt his arm around my shoulder, but I couldn't answer him. I couldn't speak. I didn’t have anything to say for myself, anything that would be worth hearing. He should have left me where I was, shouldn’t have bothered bringing me back to his house and wasting his time on me. I wasn’t Jace’s responsibility. I was pathetic.  

A hand was moving up and down my back, soothing and comforting. I leaned into it without agency, the heat and pressure of it felt too good. Jace was trying to talk to me, telling me to listen to him and not to be upset, but I couldn't make sense of what he was saying. I couldn’t focus, only hearing every few words. Why was he mentioning his brother? What did he have to do with anything? I assumed he was just trying to get my mind off things, but it wasn't working. The words were getting jumbled in my brain and I couldn't put them back in their proper order.

Everything was out of order.

I needed to cry, to scream, to...hurl.

I felt that telltale warning in the back of my throat; my mouth watering, stomach clenching.

My hand clapped over my mouth and Jace stopped talking.

"You okay buddy?"

I stood up unsteadily, and made my way for one of the doors in the hallway, grasping wildly for a handle that would lead to where I needed to go. Unfortunately, it was a bedroom, not the bathroom.

But there was a trashcan.

As I fell to my knees in front of it, I heard Jace yelling "Hey! That's my room!" as he followed me in. He cursed loudly when he saw me, but I really couldn't muster up the emotion to care.

I should've known better than to order vodka. It was the only alcohol I'd ever gotten sick off, and it burnt just as much coming up as it did going down. A few moments went by and I finally stopped heaving. My nose and throat felt like they were on fire and my stomach felt as if it had been turned inside outwards, but at least I wasn't nauseous anymore.

My head was throbbing though.

When I was sure there was no immediate risk of a repeat stomach emptying, I reached out for something soft to lay my head on and found that I was mere inches from a nice warm bed.

Now if only I had some way of getting all the way up there, I thought from my place on the floor.

I groaned, trying and failing to make my body move.

Jace looked down at me and huffed out a sigh, obviously regretting his decision to intervene in my life.

“Dude, you’re a mess. Hang on.”

He quickly removed the trashcan and replaced it with another, cursing under his breath the entire time, then scrubbing his hands thoroughly in the hall bathroom. He came back with a cup of mouthwash, which I somehow managed to use without gagging.

“Thanks,” I muttered, embarrassed, in pain, and longing for the world to just open up and swallow me whole already.

I must have looked as pitiful as I felt, because Jace was sighing again, looking at me, and shaking his head.

“Come here.” He bent over and helped me to my feet, where I promptly stumbled, almost falling over. “Sit down. Do you still feel like you’re going to puke?” he asked, helping me up on the bed.

Angel it was as soft as it’d looked from the floor. I wanted to sink into it and never get back up.

“No, I’m okay,” I managed to mutter, my eyes getting heavier by the second. I tried to lay down, but Jace reached out and grabbed me.

“No! Nuh-uh, not until you take that shirt off. Arms up, Alec.”

I looked down, confused. Why is Jace making me take my clothes off? Oh. Apparently I’d missed the trash can at some point and gotten vomit on my shirt. Great. This night couldn’t get any better. I was mortified, but too inebriated to do anything about it except mumble an apology and thanks, and raise my arms for Jace to help me navigate my way out of my shirt.

He removed my shoes and I was finally, finally, allowed to lay down. Jace pulled the blanket up around my shoulders, as I had begun to shiver again with so much of my body exposed.

I vaguely remember him tossing a clean shirt and me and leaving the room, telling me he was going to leave the door open in case I fell out of bed or something, and then I passed out.

At some point later in the night, I was woken up by banging and shouting.

"Jace Herondale, what the HELL is my boyfriend doing in your bed without his clothes on?"

I looked down at myself.

When did I take my pants off? The blanket had been thrown to the floor along with my jeans, though thankfully my boxers remained in place. I must've gotten too hot at some point. I couldn't remember anything about how I'd ended up in a strange bed without clothes for a minute. Then it all came back to me in a torrent and I wished I could forget again.

"He says he's not your boyfriend," I heard Jace reply casually.

I sat up and felt like someone hit me in the temple with a hammer.

I'm never drinking again.

I heard what sounded like someone running and then another voice I didn't recognize yelling stop.

"He saw you and Will somewhere and now he thinks you're cheating on him. He was too drunk to listen to me explain it, so I thought you could when you got home. He says he saw you two kissing, but I'm guessing he's over-exaggerating, because, eww. I didn't realize he was going to throw up all over my stuff and pass out in my bed. If I had, I would've directed him to your room." Jace sounded like he was yelling from the kitchen, but I could hear Magnus snarl at him from somewhere very near. "As for the pants thing, I had nothing to do with that. He was clothed when I left him. Mostly."

I needed to get up.

I needed to put my clothes back on, and get up.

There was a T-shirt crumpled up next to my head that I vaguely recalled was meant for me. I pulled it on and made a concentrated attempt to get out of the bed. I'd just managed to get my jeans on – zippers and buttons are for losers and people far more coordinated than I was at that moment; Angel only knew how I got them off in the first place – when Magnus walked in, closing the door softly behind him.

I swallowed hard. Acutely aware of the fact that I looked like shit. I felt like shit. And he was the last person on earth I wanted to see right then.

"Jesus Alec, how much did you have to drink?" Magnus looked concerned and came over to put his arms around me. I stepped back.

He looked – hurt? That couldn’t be right. Maybe he was offended? Part of me wanted to apologize, wanted to put my arms around his neck and tell him how much I wanted to be with him and how much I cared about him, but I didn't. It would have only made things worse.

"Don't," I said, my voice rough and harsh sounding after the night I’d had. I bent to pick my shoes up from the edge of the bed where Jace had left them, and the world spun when I straightened up. I tried to walk past Magnus to the door, but he grabbed my arm; my flesh felt as though it was burning where he contacted it.

"Alec wait, Jace told me what happened. You got the wrong idea." He let go of my arm, but stood in front of the closed door so that if I wanted to leave I had to get him to move.

"What idea exactly should I have gotten watching you kiss someone else?" I snapped before my brain caught up with my mouth. I didn’t want the answer to that; I didn’t want to hear him talk about it.

He huffed out a laugh. It was small, but it was no doubt a laugh.

I certainly didn’t want to hear him laughing about it – and why wouldn’t he laugh? It was ridiculous to imagine me being able to have him all to myself. My skin itched with the embarrassment of it all and I would have bolted for the door if I hadn’t thought the sudden motion of stepping forward and reaching out would’ve sent me into a spiral of nausea again.

"Well, that is the idea we generally want people to have, but not you. If I had seen you, I would've explained." He stepped forward tentatively and I was too dizzy to move out of his way again.

“I don’t need an explanation; in fact, I’d really prefer not to hear about it at all.” I started to shake my head, and then stopped immediately because it was an awful, awful idea. “I’m not mad,” he made a disbelieving sound and I kept talking, looking down or at the corner of the room or closing my eyes – anything to not look at him. “Okay, I am mad, but not at you. Technically, you didn’t do anything wrong. I shouldn’t have assumed. I just thought, after everything,” I ran a hand through my wrecked hair, breath hitching, “everything I told you at the park… that you would at least have thought to tell me – that you would have realized that I – but no, it’s not on you. This isn’t on you, it’s on me. I should have said something before, but I didn’t think… please let me go home, I can’t do this right now.” I was rambling, still mildly drunk and barely awake. I knew I had things I needed to say, but the words wouldn’t come out right.

I finally chanced a glance at his face and was met with bewilderment and confusion. Despite my request to leave, I took a step back and sat down on the bed, feeling like if I didn’t I would fall over any second now.

Magnus just stared at me, as if he were trying to process everything I’d just said. Good luck to him. I didn’t even know what I was word vomiting about.

“I’m not trying to force you to stay, but I really think we need to talk about this before you leave,” he finally said, stepping forward. I flinched reflexively when he got too close and he stopped, looking stricken. “What you saw, me and Will, it wasn’t – I’m not cheating on you Alec, you have to believe me, I would never, ever do that.”

“I know, it’s not technically cheating - ”

“It’s not cheating at all, technical or otherwise. Will and I are friends and that’s it; there is nothing romantic between us, there never has been and there never will be; he’s practically my brother,” he explained in earnest. I opened my mouth to protest – we had a very different definition of sibling if he thought that display I’d witnessed constituted as brotherly – but he cut me off, continuing.

"Sometimes when we go out and want to be left alone we pretend to be together so that we don't have to deal with being hit on all night, you know? Sometimes you just want to get dress up and have a good time without dealing with other people who think it’s for them. It started way back in junior year of high school and the routine just kind of stuck," he ran a worrying hand through his hair, ruining it’s perfect styling, but not making it look bad. I wasn’t sure it was possible for him to look bad.

It took a moment for my sluggish brain to out together what his words meant.

"So you're explanation is that the two of you are just so incredibly attractive that you can't go one night without people throwing themselves at you, so you pretend to be together so you can have a normal dinner?" I asked, not sure whether I was feeling hysterical or incredulous. He sounded entirely genuine and if I was being completely honest with myself, his explanation did make sense. He'd mentioned a Will before and Jace had said he stayed with his brother sometimes to get away from his aunt and uncle, so there was no doubt that that was who the mystery man was. And Izzy pulled the same routine with her friends sometimes when one of them was being hit on by a creep.

Still, it didn’t change anything. There was still no way that Magnus Bane would want to be my boyfriend – especially not after tonight – and this whole scenario had just proved to me what I’d already known: there was no way I could be in an open relationship with him. I just wasn’t cut out for it.

He gave a pained laugh and knelt down in front of me so that we were on eye level again. It sounded so beautiful and heartbreaking.

"When you put it that way..." He reached out to brush a piece of hair out of my eyes. My skin felt hot where he touched it, but this time I didn’t flinch away. "It's not exactly like that; not tonight at least. We were just having some drinks, talking about you I might add, when this drunk girl came over to our table and started flirting with me. I politely told her that I was flattered, but taken, but that didn't seem bother her so Will intervened so she'd take the hint. That was it. Neither of us thought anything of it and we certainly didn't mean to hurt you." His hands were clutching at my knees, as if he thought that if he didn’t hold on to me I would disappear.

“It doesn’t matter,” I half-whispered, looking at the ground.

“It does,” he said, not catching my meaning. “I’m so sorry I made you think I wasn’t being faithful, darling. I would never do that to you, I promise. Can you forgive me?”

He reached up and took hold of my face so that I was looking him in the eyes.

I felt pressure behind my eyes and that stinging sensation that came before tears. I bit the inside of my cheek to make it stop.

This was unbearable. I was starting to feel painfully sober again, and I really needed this conversation to end before I made any more of a fool out of myself. If that was even possible.

“I – I can’t do this, Magnus. I want to be with you; by the Angel I want you, and I wish that I could – that I could be, better at this, more… experienced and ready to – I’m sorry, I know that’s not, enough, that I’m not… enough, but maybe we can, maybe I can, I don’t know. Angel, just ignore me, I have no idea what I’m saying. Please just forget this conversation ever happened.” I couldn’t stop the words from stumbling out of my mouth. Nothing I was saying was making the remotest sense.

“Alec, what are you talking about?” Magnus looked about as confused as I felt.

I took a deep breath, taking a moment to collect my thoughts and formulate something coherent to say; and the nerve to say it.

“I can’t do causal, okay?”

“I don’t remember asking you to.”

I physically felt his words, like a slap to the face because no, he hadn’t. He hadn’t asked me to be anything to him, casual or not. Of course he hadn’t.

A familiar tingling sensation started in my spine and traveled outwards through my body at his words. I willed myself to be stronger than my situation and clasped my hands together so that I wouldn’t give in to curling them into fists and letting my fingernails dig into the flesh of my palms.

“Right, of course not. I’ll just, I should go.” I moved to stand up again. Magnus took a moment to react, his confused expression morphing to wide eyes as he made a desperate grab for me before I could get anywhere.  

“Wait, Alec, I didn’t mean it like that. I just meant that I don’t have a problem with being exclusive.”

That took a second to digest.

“You don’t?” Nothing was making sense anymore.

“No.” Magnus shook his head, smiling a small, almost shy smile.

“Why?” I blurted out, too shocked to even pretend that I had a filter anymore.

“Why what?” Magnus looked confused again, tilting his head to the side and staring at me like he was trying to decipher a foreign language. I elaborated.

“Why would you want to be with just me?”

“Oh Alec.” Magnus placed a hand on either side of my face, the metal of his many rings cool on my heated skin. He brushed a thumb underneath one eye, following the curve of my cheekbone. “It just so happens that I really like you, and, I think, you like me? Right?”

“Are you insane?” I practically yelled. Of course I liked him, how could he have not be completely sure of that? I was horrible at hiding it, hadn’t even really been trying to up to that point. “Sorry I just, yes, obviously, of course I like you.” Well done Alec, very smooth, very mature.

My lack of articulation didn’t seem to matter though. Magnus started to smile, bright as a sunrise over the snow.

“Well then, that seems like reason enough to give it a shot to me.” His smile faltered after a moment. “That is, unless you don’t want to, after tonight, I’d understand -”

“No! No, I want to. I didn’t think you would.”

“Well I do, very much.” Magnus leaned his forehead against mine, smiling again, before moving to kiss me on the cheek. “Are we okay?”

I nodded, the tension in my body finally starting to uncoil. My night had been a rollercoaster and I could already feel how my body was paying for it. My muscles ached, my head ached, my heart ached, but at least one of those was starting to get better. Magnus didn’t want to be casual; he didn’t want to stop seeing me.

I still had to make sure, I’d suffered enough over a misunderstanding tonight, I wasn’t going to let it happen again.

“Just so we’re clear,” I started, looking Magnus in the eyes. My hands were shaking again, in spite of what he’d just said. I was having a hard time wrapping my head around it. “You want to be my boyfriend?”

“Yes.”

“Exclusively.”

“Yes, Alexander. I want us to be exclusive boyfriends. What do you say? Wanna give it a shot?” Magnus replied with a wink, wrapping his arms around my neck.

I nodded, rushing forward to kiss him. “Yeah, yes of course,” I answered, between kisses, the leaden tension melting out of my veins for the first time in hours.