Chapter Text
Tuesday 12:34pm
Magnus has been gone for two weeks.
Two long, very boring, very drawn out weeks. And Alec is growing increasingly restless with the lack of information he's being given.
Even Izzy seems to know something he isn’t privy to, and the way he keeps catching her watching him from his peripheral when she thinks she's sneaky enough does nothing to quell his nerves.
What the fuck is going on?
“– and then I was like bwowowow, and the other guy was like blee-deedle-ee, and it was totally awesome.”
He turns his attention back to Simon whose arms have finally settled back onto the table where his nearly finished bowl of Chicken Alfredo pasta sits. It’s lovingly contained in Alec’s tupperware, because despite Magnus being gone for so long, Alec stills brings him lunch just in case. He knows it’s silly, knows that Magnus would let him know when he’s back, but it comforts him now to make a little extra food and portion it out for someone who will appreciate it more than anyone else will.
Pasta makes him miss Magnus.
Simon is staring at him, his eyes huge through the thick lens of his tragically unappealing glasses. He should get contacts, Alec thinks, passingly. Oh, he’s waiting for a response. Alec thinks hard, compels his brain to sift through the previous bits of conversation until he remembers – ah, right. Simon was telling him about some ‘totally sweet jam sesh' with some other local band he met this weekend.
He smiles, as much as he can muster with the heavy fog of concern in his head and the pasta in his stomach that threatens a repeat visit back to the bowl in front of him. “Sick,” he offers, enunciating the word the same way he’s heard Simon in the past, but he can tell it doesn’t come out right because now Simon’s shaking his head, pressing a dramatic finger to his temple.
He wants this day to be over with.
This whole... however-long-it-takes-for-Magnus-to-come-back thing to be over with.
Simon’s next words are slow, and careful, quiet among the chatter of their coworkers around them. “Alec, if you need to talk about anything, I’m here for you, man.”
It makes him smile – well, half-smile at least – because Simon always seems to have the best intentions at heart, but he’s also been very vocal to Alec about their situation when he even has an ounce of belief that Alec is listening to him.
And also, because Simon won’t stop referring to him as Magnus Bane, with so much emphasis one would think Magnus is an evil Disney villain. Which he isn’t.
...hopefully.
Alec shifts in his seat, uncomfortable in the stiff plastic the company provides them with for “comfort”, unused to the attention of Simon’s bug eyes that shimmer up at him. Simon has been his lunch companion most of the days that Magnus has been gone, although it’s more for the benefit of Simon who apparently never brings food to work and only survives off of the Cheetos and Dr. Pepper from the vending machines. Learning that had made Alec feel so bad he couldn’t help but shove the extra bag of food in the crisp paper bag opposite his own rumpled one across the table at Simon with a grumbled shut up and eat.
Now look at what he’s gotten himself into.
Simon sighs across from him, frustrated because he’s been trying to get Alec to open up to him about Magnus for the past two weeks, and shovels the pasta into his mouth carelessly before he leaves to wash the bowl. Small miracles, he thinks as he watches Simon with a fond smile that he’ll never show him to his face.
---
The clack of typing in the silence is soothing, and Alec feels more relaxed, stops feeling much of anything when he’s focused on work. As boring as it can be, the monotony of it all is fitting for someone like him, someone who prefers routine and the simple things in life. He doesn’t need much to be happy really, doesn’t entertain himself with thoughts of silly schemes or grand adventures, and his greatest ideas flow into his cooking. It’s in the middle of a long string of numbers when his phone buzzes next to his keyboard, the last of it flowing out of his fingertips before he gives the message any attention.
Are you at work?
His heart thumps angrily against his ribs when he sees Magnus’ name, and he scrambles to unlock the screen to fumble out a reply that he hopes doesn’t come out too eager and desperate.
You’d know if you were here.
Okay, well at least it’s not eager or desperate.
Fair point. Can I walk you home?
You’re back?
No, I just like to make plans I don’t intend to keep.
Yes, I’m back. How much did you miss me?
Ask me again when you walk me home and I'll show you.
Alexander, are you flirting with me?
Yes.
What a little deviant. Get back to work!
He’s smiling, knows he looks like a deranged fool, but he doesn’t care because Magnus is back. Two weeks of sparse text messages at random times of the day can’t possibly compare to Magnus in front of him, touching him, kissing him, showering him with words in his ears that bring out all these emotions he didn’t know he was capable of. There are a few minutes of elated silence as his head floats off with daydreams of Magnus, before he begins to feel pulled down by the irrational fear that he’s not prepared.
Quickly, with such force that his chair squeaks harsh and high inside his cubicle, he looks down to take in his appearance for the day. He’s not dressed properly for Magnus. No, definitely not dressed for anyone really, with his very crisp white shirt and Ill-fitting trousers that are all he had left because he was too busy moping around the apartment to do laundry.
He checks the time – 4:21pm – and realizes there’s not nearly enough time to sprint home and change. Not that he has anything to change into that’s work appropriate, but that’s beside the point.
A sigh escapes him, defeated and drawn out, and he resigns himself to the fate of his too-tight pants.
---
At 4:57 Alec finds himself in an intense stare down with the clock in the bottom right corner of his computer screen, uses every force in his body to intimidate it into moving faster. It doesn’t work, but he doesn’t give up. Eventually he’ll have won, because that’s life and he’s fighting with a clock.
When his victory comes it’s all he can do not to shove his coworkers out of the way to be the first to the elevator.
Actually, it’s the severe glare and stern warning of Raphael Santiago’s face his mind conjures that forces him to stay at least an arms-length away from everyone else. Alec thinks Simon would be proud of his spontaneous flair for drama, because the way he says Mr. Santiago’s name is relatable to that of Simon’s Magnus Bane.
Magnus isn’t there when he arrives, so he waits inconspicuously behind a pillar outside, keeping a keen eye on the entrance to the building so he doesn’t miss him. It’s a random day for Magnus to be back, mid-week and odd timing, but then again when has Magnus adhered to the structure of normal? The homeless kid is watching him, he notices, but then he looks past Alec and that’s all the signal he has for Magnus’ arrival.
“Waiting for someone?”
It’s the familiar purr he hasn’t heard in a few weeks, the sound that’s so heavily embedded into his heart that it kicks it into gear and makes his blood pump a little bit faster. He wonders if Magnus will ever not have this effect on him, but he thinks: probably not.
Magnus looks like he’s just walked out of a photoshoot, the elegant dark gray jacket with gold embroidery on the shoulders, vivid red shirt and the same belt Alec remembers him wearing on their taco date. Was it a date? A lunch date. There’s a shy smile on his lips, and Magnus looks... nervous? Alec has seen him fiddling with his ear cuff before, but this is a different kind of fiddling, not the charismatic swoop of his hands to bring attention to the accents in his attire, but the kind where he’s resorting to comforting tells.
“You’re back,” Alec finally responds, and immediately chides himself because he already knew Magnus was back, they had literally just texted earlier. He coughs, shifts his satchel higher on his shoulder, and stares hard at the ground, refusing to let the annoying blush show on his face. “You - ah, you look nice.”
Alec’s gaze is firmly on the ground and he has no intentions of changing that, because the soft laugh that Magnus offers doesn’t help the thumping in his chest or the heat that’s becoming too obvious to hide. Magnus’ shoes catch his eyes first, black and shiny against the dull concrete beneath them, then his hand that sparkles in the low sun. Lastly, his face, as breathtaking and perfect as Alec remembers from Saturday weeks ago in his apartment, and he’s so lost in Magnus he doesn’t notice they’re kissing until he pulls away with a shy smile.
They’re behind the pillar, but still in plain sight and Alec’s first instinct is to look around and make sure nobody can see them. But Magnus brings his attention back with a gentle pressure against his chin. “Can we go somewhere else?”
Alec nods and they walk in silence, Magnus reaches for his hand, his palm smooth against his already clammy one. Neither of them comments on it, and Magnus leads him down a familiar path, passing food vendors that wave at Magnus as they walk past. It’s sweet to see the way Magnus has worked his way into so many people’s lives, the way his compassion has garnered so much affection from these people he’s connected with over something as small as food. Just like me, Alec thinks, and it’s with a full heart that he waves along with Magnus as they pass the taco truck he remembers so well.
It’s not long before they’re at the bench, less spectacular than he remembers, but still a treasured memory. Magnus sits, beckons him down with a pat at the spot beside him, and Alec follows, setting his satchel off to the side.
They’re quiet – Magnus is quiet – and the sounds of birds chirping, cars honking, babies screaming off in the distance and (maybe) a gunshot are the only sounds that fill his ears, but none of them are what he wants to hear. He wants answers because, while he’s happy to see Magnus, Alec feels like he still has no clue what’s going on.
Part of him is afraid, he realizes. If everyone has been so cryptic about this whole situation, is it really something that Alec wants to hear? Does he really want to know that it’s all been some big joke to Magnus, that he was just bored and needed an outlet and Alec happened to be there, the idiot who brought him lunch every day? How many nights did Magnus laugh to Catarina about the stupid things Alec had said or done?
There are hands on his face suddenly, warm pressure from Magnus’ fingertips with the cold of his rings to anchor him in. “You’re thinking.”
There’s a flash of anger, small but sparked to life with Magnus’ words because all he’s been doing is thinking. He hasn’t had any answers, hasn’t had any sort of hint as to why Magnus and Catarina have been gone for two weeks, still has no fucking clue what Jace was wound so tightly about. And it’s not fair.
“Just tell me what’s going on,” he sighs, finally.
Magnus seems to mull over his choices of what to say, and Alec watches the way the glitter around his eyes glint as he squints in thought. The words he lets out are whispered so softly that their close proximity is the only reason it reaches his ears. “I quit, Alexander.”
It takes a moment, just a few quick breaths for his brain to catch up, before Alec is pulling away from Magnus. “Wh-What? You quit? Why?”
There’s a mixture of feigned calmness and nonchalance that flits across Magnus’ face, carefully placed as he pretends to inspect his polished fingernails like he didn’t just announce the end of his very successful and lucrative career. “Why not?” he offers with a shrug.
I quit.
Why not?
That spark of anger burns brighter, fueled by the seeming indifference Magnus has towards this life-altering change, and Alec stands immediately, pacing the small space in front of the bench Magnus remains seated on.
“I’ll quit. I'll quit and that way we don’t have to worry about it anymore, I – I’ll find something else to do. I’m smart enough, I have a good work ethic when you’re not around, I can – I can do it.”
Okay, he’ll need to find a new job immediately. Something with numbers would be easiest, but he did pretty well in school, maybe something physical? Maybe he could be some sort of tutor, he’s not bad with children. But that would be a massive pay decrease, not that he’s loaded from his office job, but it’s stable. And Izzy—
Alec!
Alec?
He realizes that’s Magnus’ voice, strong and urgent and pulling him back in, fingers curled around his wrist that tug him back down onto the bench. Magnus looks stressed, brows furrowed in a way Alec has only seen when he talks about his father, a stress that’s been there years before Alec was even a blip in Magnus’ world. The temptation to reach over and smooth the lines out of his face almost takes over, but the anger that’s kindled inside of his stomach is still there, still keeping him idled where he sits, waiting for answers. “Where have you been the past two weeks?”
“Tying up loose ends,” Magnus has always been cryptic, and today is no exception. “As much as I appreciate your offer to quit on my behalf, this was always the end result for me. I hate this job,” Magnus sighs, and Alec feels that straight to his core. “It was always my father’s plan for me to take over for him, but when I became good enough, when he trusted me enough, he used me as a way to branch out and expand his company.”
Alec doesn’t say anything, there's nothing he can offer, and Magnus takes in a deep breath before he continues.
“I’m not going to lie and say that you didn’t affect my decision. It was already a plan I had put into motion before you came into my life, but having you around certainly made me speed it along. I’m just sorry it took me so long to come back.”
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
Magnus watches him, twists idly in his hand one of the rings around his fingers before he speaks. “I didn’t want you to stop me.”
“Magnus I—” He’s cut off by the raised eyebrow and amused smile, because okay yeah, he would have. “You’re more valuable than I am, and you’ve got a lot more to lose,” Alec grumbles out.
“Alexander, you’re more valuable than you give yourself credit for,” Magnus says wistfully, before shaking his head. “I’m not losing anything by leaving. I’m not happy here, I haven’t been for a long time... not until you came along.” It sounds cliché, god, does it, but coming from Magnus it makes Alec fluster and his heart race.
“Why was Jace so upset with you?” he blurts out, because he’s embarrassed and needs a distraction from Magnus’ declarations. The tense of his shoulders doesn’t put confidence in Alec’s mind, but he waits anyways.
“He told me I wasn’t being fair to you, that it was funny when it was just messing with your lunch, but now that it’s serious I was putting you in situation you weren’t prepared to deal with.” Alec opens his mouth to respond, but Magnus holds up a finger, stopping him. “It’s nothing I haven’t heard from Catarina, or thought for myself. I was very unfair to you, and I’m sorry if you ever felt like you couldn’t say no to me.”
“I never felt like that,” Alec says immediately, his back stiff and chest puffed out in what he hopes Magnus can take as assurance. “I still don’t, if you’re worried.”
It’s quiet, the screaming baby is gone, the gunshot are just echoes drowned out by the faint call of police sirens, and Magnus’ breathing is all Alec wants to focus on.
“Do you regret it?” Alec asks, carefully. He shifts in his seat and plucks at the seam of his trousers that are becoming uncomfortable with how tight they are against his thighs. He should have just gone home and changed.
“Do I regret us?” Magnus repeats, and Alec nods. “No, I’ve never regretted anything less. I do wish I would have waited, though.”
Alec stops picking at his pants to turn to Magnus, who looks thoughtful. “Waited?”
“I wish I would have waited until I wasn’t your boss to kiss you.”
Oh.
Suddenly Alec’s eyes are drawn to anything but Magnus. They take in the foliage that sways in the light breeze, the shadows that are fading in intensity with the setting of the sun that’s not far off, and the rush of people that surround the taco truck off in the distance. He remembers how bright it was, how sparkling and magnificent Magnus had been that day, tacos and Alec’s heart in his hand. The sun had been too hot, the people too noisy, and Alec was horribly plain beside Magnus, but it had been perfect.
And it almost hadn’t happened.
“I wouldn’t change any of it,” Alec says firmly. “And you don’t have to quit your job.”
There’s a hand on his shoulder, sliding up to the back of his neck where the tips of Magnus’ fingers thread into the hair there. It sends a chill down his spine, and he leans closer. “I’m happier now. I feel like all of this pressure, this part of me that I’ve locked up can finally be free. I’ve spent so many years catering to my father’s wishes, every weekend schmoozing the people he paid to keep an eye on me to make sure I was doing his bidding. I’m still young, and I already feel like I’m a hundred years old. Now I can do what I really want to.”
“What’s that?” Alec inquires, perking a brow at Magnus’ last words.
“I was thinking of trying out for a band,” Magnus smiles, teeth bared and stunning. “Have you heard of this guy named Simon Lewis? From what I hear he’s kind of a big deal.”
Alec scoffs, shoves at Magnus with his shoulder playfully. “I think I’d flee the country if you did that.”
“We could run away together,” Magnus says suddenly, the laugh falling from his voice. For a moment Alec wonders if he’s serious, wonders if that’s really something Magnus would do.
He’d be lying if he said it wasn’t tempting.
Alec could never leave Izzy and Jace, but he doesn’t get to dwell on the thought much longer because the way Magnus is looking up at him with adoring wide eyes that are searching for just as many answers as Alec has questions is enough to bring him in. It’s a soft press of lips, hesitant and unsure where they stand with each other, scared to push too far after the words they’ve shared.
When it changes it becomes deeper, something meaningful and twisting in this... thing they’ve gotten themselves tangled in. When the sun sets around them, they finally stand and head towards Alec’s apartment, shy fingers seeking each other out as they bump in the space between their bodies. And it’s okay that Alec still feels a little lost. Not every question needs an answer right away, and when Magnus kisses him goodbye outside his apartment door later that night, Alec knows that they’ll figure them out together.
---
Thursday 7:57am
Oh, hell no.
Alec stares at the decorated bag in the fridge, absolutely taking up his spot on the shelf, ostentatious and unnecessary in its presentation because it’s just a lunch bag.
Part of him hopes it will burst into flames with the might of his hate, he knows it’s not going to, but stranger things have happened. So he reaches for it, tries not to appreciate the smooth texture of the design on it because it doesn’t belong here, and shoves it over.
He’s not expecting the paper taped to the shelving when he lifts the bag, or how his eyes catch on the familiar loopy scrawl that makes his heart dance something awful, and with shaky fingers he reaches for it.
Mon petit chef -
It is with a heavy heart that I must bid our lunch-time meetings adieu.
I’ll always remember the tasty meals you’ve shared, and I hope that this dish I’ve prepared for you is payment enough for all you’ve done for me.
Thank you for keeping me well-fed!
xo
Fuck.
Magnus made him lunch?
He can’t do this. He can’t sit here all day with this sitting in the fridge, with thoughts of an empty office two floors up that has become so comfortable and familiar, that he’ll never have a reason to see again.
With a quick motion Alec pulls out his phone, punching words into it with urgent thumbs.
Where are you?
It’s less than a minute before Magnus responds.
I’m grabbing a couple things from upstairs.
In a flurry, Alec is out of the break room and rushing to the elevators, and he barely hears Simon’s ‘Dude, you almost ran me over!’ over the pounding in his ears. He has places to be, Magnus’ to kiss.
The elevator moves entirely too slow for his liking. He feels like he’s got so much pent up nervous energy because this will probably be the last time he rides up to the fifth floor, and it’s such a bittersweet feeling that he never thought he’d have the misfortune of experiencing. This office that used to be boring and monotonous with the only excitement being from the overheard chatter of parties his coworkers threw or attended, now holds so many crucial moments and memories for Alec, from first meetings to goodbyes.
Maia calls his name as he rushes by, but he offers her hardly more than a quick wave before he’s swinging Magnus’ office door open. He pushes down the errant thought that it’s not Magnus’ office anymore, because it makes his chest ache and Magnus is standing near one of the enormous windows that bask him in the bright Brooklyn sun, face turned towards Alec over his shoulder.
“I want to request vacation time!”
In the silence he can hear the erratic pounding of his pulse, the harsh breathing that leaves him in huffs, and Magnus slowly lifts a brow.
“Vacation... time?” he questions slowly.
Alec nods, searches the room quickly, and tries not to let the pang in his chest grow because the room is so empty and devoid of the quirks that made it Magnus’.
“Alexander,” Magnus laughs, confusion tinting the sound. “I’m not your boss anymore, and you’ve never gone through me to request time off before.”
“So that means you’re free then?”
“Free for what?”
“To go with me on vacation. And to date – ah – I mean, uh, for dinner. Tonight. A – A dinner date.” He feels like an idiot, fumbling over words as simple as this, but he’s never asked anyone out before, never asked Magnus out. For clarity, because he wants there to be no misunderstandings about what he wants, he adds: “As my boyfriend.”
Magnus is quiet, but he turns to face Alec with a gentle smile. “I’d love that,” he says, barely above a whisper.
“Perfect.”
Perfect.
Alec tries to stop his face from looking so stupid the whole way down to his floor, tries his damn hardest to stop smiling and keep the skip out of his step. Catarina’s eyes are on him, three-to-the-right-two-down, and when he looks at her, she smiles back at him with a laugh. Lydia is focused as always, and it’s 8:13 so she’s already settled into her groove of numbers and furious typing.
The breakroom he expects to be empty, but is honestly not surprised to find Simon in there with sugar spilled around his mug of coffee and milk, a clear disaster, his morning muttering surrounding him with damn sugar who even leaves it open all the way like that, just what I needed...
“Simon,” Alec says, low in an attempt to not scare him.
There’s a jump anyways, sugar that sprinkles the floor of the break room with an overly dramatic motion that you’d think only happens in movies, unless you know Simon Lewis.
Simon pushes up his glasses, gives Alec a swift nod, and scoops up his mug to show his casual disregard for the fact that the floor is now slippery with sugar. Alec doesn’t even care, doesn’t have the time or patience right now to deal with Simon’s misgivings.
“Sup, dude,” Simon draws out, elongating each word with a shaky tone.
“You can have my lunch.”
Simon blanches at that, nearly spits out the coffee in his mouth. “Woah! That’s a little extreme man, you okay?”
Part of him wants to be annoyed that Simon thinks something’s wrong just off the pretense that Alec doesn’t want his lunch, but he’s kind of been a stickler about his food, and he’s not gonna apologize for it. What’s wrong with proper nutrition?
“I’m going on vacation,” he offers simply. He grabs the bag off of the table where he’d left it, thankful nobody has touched it, and swaps it out for the elaborate one in the fridge, the one that makes his heart flutter just looking at it.
Simon’s smiling when he looks back at him, a toothy grin that’s unflattering on his face, but endearing nonetheless. He smiles back.
“Say hi to Magnus for me.”
Alec appreciates the effort Simon gives to refrain from saying “Bane” at the end of Magnus’ name. They stay like that, quiet for a second, and Alec wonders what he did to deserve someone like Simon in his life. Someone to dull the edge of the workday with his enthusiastic and over-dramatic tales of his life, someone who will stick up for him and keep an eye out for whatever trouble he might get himself into, despite the fact that he’s an even hotter mess than anyone else on planet Earth.
When he walks out with Magnus several minutes later, lunch bag in-hand, he thinks of Izzy with her delighted squeal at the sight of Magnus in their apartment last night. Thinks of Jace, who called him after Izzy’s text about Magnus quitting his job to congratulate him and apologize to Magnus again, who responded with a “Don’t ever apologize for looking out for Alec,” to which Jace had just laughed and said “Same.”
He’s not sure how he got so fucking lucky that Magnus saw him of all people, that Alec’s routines got him into such an interesting predicament that turned out so right.
Alec doesn’t know what it’s like to take a vacation, doesn’t know the first thing about relaxing anywhere that isn’t his and Izzy’s apartment. He doesn’t even know if he’ll do anything but hole himself up with his two favorite people and Magnus, trying out new recipes, or spending the nights drinking terrible margaritas and judging singing contests until two in the morning.
Whatever he does, he’s not going to do it alone, because Magnus is here beside him, running his thumb along the back of his hand as they walk through the early morning of Brooklyn. His lunch thief, who has stolen far more than Alec’s lunches, more than either of them could have expected.
Today wasn’t so bad, Alec thinks.
Tomorrow looks even better.