Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Magnus watches the Shadowhunters step into the portal as one, mind whirling a thousand directions. The portal glows bright purple before spitting out this reality's versions of Clary and her blond boyfriend - thankfully unconscious - at Magnus' feet. 

His magic is buzzing underneath his skin and responds to his call as he shuts the portal from his end, pulling at the sticky threads that rebel at being unmoored from their long time resting place. A stronger blast of navy blue magic disintegrates the portal shard and along with any remnants of the open doorway. 

He feels a pang at destroying the only access he has to life how it used to be - brimming with magic, Downworlders, and potential. A whisper of his father's voice mocks him for letting go of such power - imagine the heights he could take his magic if he could draw on the power there. On Edom. 

But his Father and his sinuous whispers are locked away and in a world absent all traces of Shadow World influences - save in the myths and the occasional nod of acknowledgement to other immortals - there is no use for that kind of power. Not that he would risk destabilizing the balance of multiple worlds for his selfish need. The fact that his magic is awakened again, enough under his control to be able to create and destroy portals - once his favorite bit of magic, created shoulder to shoulder with Henry - well, like he told Clary, this is gift enough.    

Magnus takes a second to shake himself out of his thoughts, catch his breath and look around at the unconscious couple, the monstrosity on the table. 

One down, two to go. 

He doesn't know how long the two will stay unconscious, how long the noise from the party will cover the ruckus in the basement, how long his magic will stay under his control after decades of dormancy - he has to work fast. 

Fighting the slight lightheadedness, he kneels in front of Clary and the other one, arranging them into a more comfortable position than their graceless sprawl. He's hesitant to dive deep into the memories, to extract all the disordered events and misunderstandings, the glimpses they might have gained from the other versions. He's even less confident in his ability to be able to replace these with a believable series of events - memory magic being fickle and unpredictable at best. He could just remove the memories of the past few hours, but that would leave gaping holes in their minds, with no recourse.

Plus, with the boost his magic has gotten from the portal shard, he's wary of any brute force measures, lest he leave the version of his savior and her paramour a drooling mess. 

It's easier to blast an Asmodei with a burst of power than perform the equivalent of brain surgery on unconscious, unconsenting humans. 

He does the simplest thing he can, creating a barrier to prevent access to memories between the time Magnus accosted Clary and the departure of the Shadowhunter versions of themselves. He leaves a series of simulated images - a flash reel of the couple going down to the basement for some frisky fun. It'll be more difficult to explain their unconsciousness but given the hints of suggestion and with a lack of a better alternative, their mundane minds will come up with an explanation.  

It's inelegant but it should hold until Magnus gets a better chance to alter the memories, once he's not feeling exhausted down to his bones. 

Not that it would matter if he doesn't. They wouldn't know to go to a warlock - not that they would find any, at least not in New York - and Magnus can just stay out of their way when the barrier weakens; which would probably take a couple of months, if not years. It's not like anyone would believe them anyway.

It would have been what he did earlier, back when he was the High Warlock - especially for Shadowhunters. No service provided free of charge. But even by that logic, he's heavy in debt - at least to Clary. And he always pays his debts. 

He goes the extra step to cast healing spells on both to take care of any bumps and bruises and ensures there is no remnants of demon venom in Blondie, thankful that the flesh wound can be healed quickly without even a scar. 

As he straightens, Magnus stumbles a little before catching himself on the shelves. It won't be long before he too joins the two angel-descended mundanes in oblivion. He's got just one thing to take care of and then he can portal to his flat and pass out in peace. 

He grimaces at the ugly dead demon who's starting to stink a bit, sulfurous and rotten. It's been a long, long, long time since he saw one of these creatures, and although no amount of time is enough to make him forget these buggers, it certainly has dulled the reality of their existence a bit. 

The only thing to do is to burn the thing and vanish the ashes - no way he's taking a chance at having any part of the demon present in this world. Especially given its origins in the other dimension. Who knows what would happen if pieces of the demon started floating around on underground black markets. Or worse, if someone tried to revive the thing. 

As he's about to set the thing on fire and wash his hands off the mess, he hears slight shuffling and a low-pitched groan. 

Seriously? This could not have happened at a worse time. 

Possibly he - and his magic - had been a bit too enthusiastic in their healing, the rush of being whole again and his own rustiness making it so that the unconscious parties were well on their way to waking. 

Magnus drops to all fours and scuttles under the table in a way so undignified he's sure he can hear Ragnor laughing at him somewhere. Panicking, he casts a glamour - cloaking himself and the table hoping to everything unholy that they don't bump into the table on their way out. He has to hold his breath to prevent breathing in the cobwebs and sneezing as he hears the two get to their feet, probably a little disoriented. 

"Wha- Clary?" 

"Jace, I - what - where...?" 

"I think we passed out in the basement."

"Base - oh, oh, shit. I can't believe we snuck out like that. I hope my parents didn't realize." 

"God, I hope not. Your dad's gonna kill me." 

"Alec is gonna kill both of us first if we don't get out of here," Clary responds a bit hysterically as they apparently make their leisurely way around the old statues and shelving units. Magnus hopes they hurry up because he's not as confident in his breath-holding capacity as he used to be.

"You think we missed all of it?"

"Only one way to find out." Two pairs of legs pause in front of Magnus' face. "May I, my lady?" From this angle, he can make out Blondie bowing a little and offering his arm. 

Clary giggles, something so unburdened in her voice that Magnus' dead heart aches for the other world's Clary. Despite her peppiness there was a weariness in her bones that came from fighting demons - both of the literal and metaphorical kinds.

Magnus counts down the seconds as they walk hand in arm towards the steps leading out the basement, thankfully steady enough to not bump into his - and the demon's - hiding place. 

"It's a damn shame we fell asleep before the main event." 

"Did you really want to stay for the speeches?" 

"No," Blondie says before whispering something in Clary's ear that Magnus is glad not to be privy of. Particularly by the way she blushes in response. 

It's not long after the door shuts behind them and Magnus can let out his breathe, feeling a little woozy after almost suffocating. He crawls out of his hiding space, patting away the dust on his knees and elbows. He really needs to get out of here. Although, given the timing maybe it's better they left before he could get to work on the demon. Lilith only knows what would have happened if they'd woken up in the middle of him setting fire to a demon's corpse. 

Alright, one last thing and then... to home. 

Magnus snaps his fingers and the corpse catches on fire, the flickering flames a putrid green color as it quickly eats away at the flesh, emitting the most noxious fumes that make him gag. It's only through immense willpower that he doesn't throw up the paltry contents of his stomach. 

He blocks his nose with his elbow, hoping the scent of laundry detergent and chamomile on his coat might help when he catches the notes of an expensive smelling, musky men's cologne. It startles him enough to distract him from the overpowering stink. 

Magus doesn't wear cologne - centuries as a warlock meant he didn't have to and then his olfactory system wouldn't take to it, despite the lack of hypersensitivity that comes with his magic. Plus, his cats weren't too fond of many smells and he didn't want to do anything to put Church off from coming near him that he could help. 

Where did this... ah. Magnus thinks of the beautiful man who had (possibly) flirted with him, thanks to whom he'd been able to get into the party in the first place. Looks like he owes more than one person for tonight.

They must have brushed against each other when the man - Alec, Alec Lightwood, his mind whispers curling around the syllables in pleasure - had offered him a drink. To us, he'd toasted and Magnus had been too twitterpatted to even respond.

It's been a while since he'd felt so affected like that, taken in by someone even if only for a few minutes before he'd had to make his undignified escape to get Shadowhunter Clary back to her dimension. 

Speaking of, the demon is gone now, a pile of grey ashes on the table that Magnus vanishes with a spiteful wave. 

And that's everything. 

On heavy legs he walks back to the double doors leaning on the railing for support. He hasn't been this physically and magically exhausted in a long time, his lifestyle leaving little need for this level of exertion. In one night alone he's exhausted the reserves of his strength. His magic is still buzzing under his skin, muted now, but still there.

Alive.

Restless.

Elated. 

Still, he might need to give it a moment before he does more taxing magic like making a portal to back home. Plus, call him superstitious but he's not gonna open another damn portal anywhere near the godforsaken Institute. He's wary of any traps the long-gone Nephilim might have left; he can only take so much excitement in one night. 

Slipping out of the doors he realizes that the party is on its tail end, a couple of people milling about, but the large heavily decorated venue is mostly empty. He doesn't spot Clary's bright hair - or any of her little group - anywhere and is glad they left before his presence could test the strength of this memory spells.

Involuntarily, his eyes also search for a talk, dark-haired, handsome man but he stops his exploration forcibly. There's no use nursing disappointment. There's a high chance he's left already, and a higher one that Magnus put him off with his awkwardness and by ditching the man for the entire night. 

Plus, it's not like he has the mental capacity or the time to even entertain anything remotely new - not after his life has already been upturned in the last twenty-four hours. This is the worst time to explore something - especially with a mundane. Someone he only met for a moment.

Even if in that moment, he felt seen in a way he hadn't for decades, nay, centuries. Even if his magic reared his head in interest when it happened. Even if those eyes drew him in like a magnet. 

Just get home. And then he can deal with the multiple breakdowns he feels cresting on the horizon. 

He picks his way carefully to the exit, every step feeling like he's dragging it through mud. He might have overestimated his strength reserve if he thought he might be able to make a block or two away before portaling. He might even have to give up on the portaling and take a cab. He really hopes he has enough cash. 

Magnus feels a dizzy spell hit and has to stumble a little off course to lean against a rectangular table - stark white and covered in the detritus. It's probably the one he abandoned his half-drunk teacup on and the lack of decent support is karma for littering or something. 

Once he feels less like throwing up, he straightens and tries to course correct before someone bumps into his shoulder, and it's possibly all his fault given his newborn foal-like gait but it still irritates him and he looks up with a glare. It's an employee as evident by the uniform, thankfully not the guy who stopped him at the door. Unfortunately, it's not his- the- beautiful stranger either. 

"Oops, sorry man. I - whoa, cool contacts," the man says losing the customer service smile for something a bit more genuine. 

"What?" The non-sequitur throws Magnus enough to pause him in his tracks. 

"Was it a take on the Cheshire cat?" 

The words pierce through the grey haze in his mind.

Contacts... cat....

Fuck. 

Magnus' heart plummets. He didn't think the mark would come back. Didn't think he'd not even realize it was out for everyone to see - to gawk at. "No - I - yes. Thanks," he sputters in panic, before turning his back to the employee, eyes squeezed shut. 

His anxiety calls on his magic anxiously to hide, hide, hide, and he feels a strong, familiar glamour settle in his eyes, taking away the extra sensory input from the cat eyes that he'd unconsciously adapted to in the basement. 

When he opens his eyes, the change in perception makes him dizzy, feels as if he's underwater and he takes two wobbly steps, nausea rising up his throat. 

He feels scraped raw and like his bones have turned to jelly. He might've over did it a bit with the glamour, he realises, as darkness seeps in from the corners of his vision. He could've let the glamour be. This was a themed party. There are no nephilim hunting his kind.

He needs to - needs to- his thoughts stutter as his legs give away and he lists sideways, cringing at the prospect of meeting the ground, hard. 

Well, at least pretty boy isn't here to see his lamentable state, is the last clear thought he has.

Chapter Text

Alec has just entered the venue after dropping some of the upper management members to their cars, when he spots him - Magnus Bane. The flighty, cute guy who disappeared after Alec so generously allowed him into the biggest event he'd planned. Of course, it wasn't purely altruistic. He'd been hoping to flirt with him a bit in between running around to make sure everything went according to plan, to finagle a date from the seemingly shy, reserved man. 

He would've taken a quickie in the bathroom too. He wasn't fussy. And after the months of preparation and high pressure, he deserved a goddamn break. 

Unfortunately, the next time he'd done a circuit of the room, he'd not seen Magnus anywhere. Probably bolted. He was so sure he hadn't read it incorrectly. His gaydar was impeccable and he'd seen the spark of interest, the smile directed towards him before Magnus had run away. 

He's almost given up, chalked it up to a missed connection when fate throws his conquest back into his path. 

Or rather, in the path of a table and then an employee. Alec frowns as he watches Magnus stumble, looking dazed. He hopes the man's not drunk. He hates sloppy drunks, no matter how cute they are. Still, he makes a beeline for the man where he's exchanging some words with one of the waitstaff, probably an apology exchanged for bumping into each other- hopefully, an apology. Another thing Alec doesn't stand is assholes. 

He needs to handle the situation whether it's a case of a messy drunk or someone in need of help - this is his responsibility. Especially since he let the man in as soon as he batted his pretty eyelashes at him. 

Magnus seems lost in his thoughts, not having caught Alec's approach, and that's probably why Alec can catch the devastation and fear on his face. It gives him pause, putting a stop to more uncharitable thoughts. He's near enough to see the unshed tears in Magnus' eyes when he opens them again. It sends a pang through his heart to see someone so... so lost. 

His protective instincts kick in and he walks faster almost there when Magnus sways in a way that speaks more to fainting than inebriation. Now that he's close enough to see, Alec can see that his skin has a grey pallor and he's about to meet the ground in a very painful way. 

He leaps the short distance separating them and catches Magnus in time, heart thudding fearfully in his chest. 

Oh god, please don't tell him something in his party killed the cute boy. Or gave him food poisoning. 

Magnus slumps into his arms, head resting against his shoulder, body boneless and drops of sweat on his upper lip. Even half-unconscious, he looks so alluring. 

This is so not the time, Lightwood, his conscience chastises. 

"Magnus?" he asks gently, ignoring the shouts of alarm that have been raised around him. 

Magnus' eyelashes flutter and he looks up at Alec with a dazed expression. He opens his mouth as if to speak before it seems like he loses his strength and grimaces instead. 

"Let's get you sitting, okay? You're about to pass out," Alec says grunting a little as he takes most of Magnus' weight and guides him slowly to the empty chairs. Magnus is solid against his chest, a line of warm muscle, and not easy to maneuver given his limpet status. Not that Alec is complaining at the chance of playing knight-in-shining armor. At the back of his mind he can hear Izzy's teasing at his "savior complex". 

It takes a glare at Raj gawking nearby to get him to push the chairs together into a makeshift bed. Slowly, he lowers Magnus onto the chairs, guiding him to lie down on his side in the recovery position, albeit with his legs spilling off the chair. He waves the other away when he tries to take Magnus from him.

"I've got this, Raj. Can you help out with the wrap up?" he says, more an order he expects to be followed than a request. Thankfully, Raj just rolls his eyes and leaves, muttering something about more trouble than he's worth that he summarily ignores. 

Instead, Alec grabs a third chair and lifts his legs to position the chair to support them. Magnus groans a little, his eyes fluttering open - still a bit hazy and confused - and he tries to get up. Alec puts that to rest with a hand on his shoulder.

There's no more resistance. Rather, Alec feels Magnus sigh, the tension in his body easing a little. He doesn't think he's passed out - there's still a furrow in his brow.  

"I'm gonna get you some water," Alec says softly, falling into the old patterns of a caretaker. "I hope to god you don't try to disappear before then. Again," he teases gaining a distracted hum from Magnus, nothing else. The frown deepens into a scowl and Alec hastily makes his way to the bar grabbing two bottles of water before Magnus throws up. Or gets worse.

His mind's running a mile a minute as he casts a glance around. There's a lot that needs done. Thankfully, all the dignitaries and VIPs have long taken their leave and there's only a couple of stragglers, probably waiting for an Uber or something. He needs to oversee the dismantling of the venue, sign-off on the final accounts for the vendors, secure the building so that it can return to the efficiently run Institute come Monday. As much as he likes to oversee - micromanage, according to some - the details of his assignments, the bulk of the work is done and his team is competent enough to handle things for a short while until he rejoins them.

All of that, however, falls to the wayside at the sight of Magnus shakily attempting to push himself up. 

He closes the distance between them quickly, moving the bottles to one hand as he supports Magnus' shoulders and helps him sit up. Kneeling in front of him, he keeps his grip firm yet gentle as he nudges at Magnus' cheek with the cool bottle of water. 

"Hey, I got you -" 

"A - Alec?" Magnus asks, squinting slightly at him before his eyes widen. "You - what -?" In any other situation the confusion and stuttering might be cute, adorable even, but Alec feels like this has more to do with his situation than any dazzling effect he's having on the other man. Although, he wouldn't say no to exploring opportunities to make that stutter happen again - possibly in better conditions. 

"Yep, glad you remember me. Why don't you have some water while I call you an ambulance?" he slowly brings the bottles in Magnus' line of sight, easing up a little when he stabilizes without support. 

He gingerly takes a bottle before frowning. "Am - No, no, I'm fine, I don't need to - I just need to go home." 

Alec frowns a little, "You almost passed out and you look like you're about to throw up. At least let me get you a cab to the hospital." 

Magnus grimaces, his fingers crushing the bottle slightly. Thankfully, it's not open and doesn't spill on them. "No hospitals," his voice is firm yet the look in his brown eyes is almost pleading. 

Alec swallows down his arguments. This isn't his sister or Jace. Or any of the troublemakers he's responsible for. For all intents and purposes, this is a stranger who might not take well to Alec's brand of forceful care. "Drink that water first and then decide," he urges. 

When Magnus' fingers tremble as he attempts to open the bottle, Alec can't stop swiping it and opening it for him, holding it out with a slight smile. Magnus looks between the bottle and Alec for a minute before conceding and taking a few sips that turn into desperate gulps - a clear sign of dehydration. 

Alec diverts his mind from the sight - the long expanse of the olive-colored neck, the bob of a defined Adam's apple as Magnus swallows, the narrow stream of water that escapes the side of his mouth and runs down his jaw -   and refocuses on running through the basics of first aid. His earlier concerns of alcohol poisoning are disproved by the fact that he can't smell any booze on Magnus. Rather, there's almost an ozone-like scent in the air, like the smell of the air before lightning strikes. He's not been close enough - or paying enough attention - to isolate the other scents underneath that. 

The bottle crinkles loudly as it collapses in Magnus hand, empty of even air. Magnus lets his hand fall and breathes out a sigh before opening his eyes again. It's a little pathetic that the small snatches of times he's had them closed have made Alec miss them every time. 

"Feeling better?" he asks, a little amused but not mocking. He wouldn't be able to live with himself if he was an ass - even by accident - to someone he'd been looking to get to know better. Especially when they were obviously sick and vulnerable. 

"I - thank you, Alec," Magnus says, clearing his throat and wipes the excess water off his lips with a callous swipe of the back of his hand. For a second, Alec is jealous of it. 

"I've got another bottle of water but I'm gonna advise you to sip on it slowly," he replies, forgoing the first four things that came to his mind in response. 

Magnus hunches a little, murmuring a soft thank you as he allows Alec to exchange the empty bottle with the full one he picks up from the ground where it'd fallen in the rearranging. 

Alec rests backs on his heels upon seeing him cognizant and losing the pained look. It settles the little pit of anxiety in his stomach. 

He's burning with questions about what happened in those couple of hours between when they'd met and now to leave Magnus in such a state. He'd ruled out alcohol, and Magnus hadn't looked sick when he came in so it probably wasn't a flu. It looked too sudden to be something like food poisoning. And was all the wrong symptoms to be an allergic reaction. A dreadful thought occurs to him and he glances quickly at Magnus to find him looking at him with an unreadable expression, open bottle hanging loosely in front of him, a quarter the way empty. 

"Magnus... did someone - did you happen to drink something someone handed you?" Alec asks delicately, unsure if he should pursue this line of thought, if Magnus would even be able to answer that. 

"Uh, yes, I did, actually." 

The pit in his stomach opens into despair and though he registers the incongruous tone of the response - confused or amused, maybe? -  he can't think straight for the rush of sudden anger he feels at the thought of someone taking advantage - maybe even - he clenches his jaw against finishing the thought. 

"Who?" he bites out, knowing as it escapes that it's the wrong question. He should be asking after Magnus' wellbeing, offering to take him ho- to the police station, looking at CCTV footage, convincing him to go to the hospital. 

Magnus blinks at him in confusion, holding what's surely an intense stare by Alec. "You," he replies, and the word falls in between them like an anchor. 

Alec is dumbfounded for a second, unable to comprehend and a nervous chuckle breaks the silence. "You offered me a drink when I came in. I didn't - I haven't had anything else. This isn't -" Magnus waves a hand, "an allergic reaction. I just..." he trails off when Alec sighs with his whole body, bowing forward with the weight of his relief. 

Okay. Okay, so it wasn't - wasn't that. Even if Magnus probably misunderstood his line of questioning. 

Alec huffs at himself and looks up to find Magnus' cheeks a little pink. It's sure as shit a better sight than the clammy look he'd been sporting. A part of him wishes to push to see how he could get that to deepen, see where it goes. 

He's never had this much trouble focusing before, rather he's known for his almost militant levels of focus at work. 

"Sorry, my mind went elsewhere. Are you feeling okay? I wasn't sure what happened and you refused to go to the hospital."

"I'm fine. It was nothing - just a little lightheadedness." 

"Is it low blood sugar?" 

Magnus squints a little before nodding, "Sure, yeah. I must have lost track of time, forgotten to eat," he waves a hand again before dropping it unceremoniously. "I'm sorry I made a scene. Thank you for -" 

"What can you stomach?" 

"Excuse me?" 

"Let me get you something to eat. That should fix it, right?" Alec asks giving him a reassuring smile. He has a feeling that the last round of thank you was a bit too much like a goodbye and he latches on the first thing to prolong the moment. Also, he's not really sure if Magnus is even in a state to leave. He still looks exhausted, the poor thing. 

Magnus pauses, his eyes falling to Alec's lips before he swallows audibly and looks up. A vindicated part of Alec crows in victory at the obvious sign of interest. 

"No, I should go -" as he shifts his weight to get up, both their attention is drawn to the hand Alec still has pressed to Magnus' firm bicep, his thumb rubbing absently over the fabric of his cheap brown suit. 

They look at the point of contact in unison before their gazes snap to each others' like magnets and hold. Magnus' eyes are gorgeous, his chocolate brown eyes wide, highlighted by the slight flush that's back on his cheeks, and if this were any other time, Alec wouldn't hesitate to close the gap and see those eyes flutter shut in pleasure. 

He doesn't have enough willpower to pull away from the electric feeling between them, to break the stare and it seems Magnus isn't willing either. 

It takes a loud clang of one of the set pieces being dismantled that shakes them both out of their reverie, Magnus zeroing in on the noise, only relaxing when he catches sight of the team working on the standees. 

Alec slowly withdraws his hand, unfolding from his kneel and dragging a chair to angle it so that he can face Magnus as he collapses onto it, drawing Magnus' eyes back to him. He's slightly achy from being on his feet all day and then on his knees for the past however long. He's gonna have to up his leg day workouts since he doesn't want something as silly as soreness to stand in the way of him and kneeling for Ma- Nope, stop it right there, you pervert.  

"You didn't answer my question. And since you owe me for disappearing on me, I'll let you call it even if you do." 

Magnus bites his lower lip, "Trust me, if I had a choice...." he trails off, looking pointedly around, "I don't think there's any food left. I can just grab something when I get home." 

Alec really goddamn hopes that he meant it the way it sounded. "Can you handle some crackers? There's always leftovers from the catering and they usually leave them behind for us. I could offer you a meal too but I'm not sure if you could stomach it right now," Alec bypasses the refusal easily. 

There's no way he's letting this alluring man leave before he at least gets a number, if not a date. Especially not after the blatant hints being dropped at his feet. 

"Sure," Magnus sighs, "But I really must -" 

Alec raises a finger stopping just short of touching Magnus' lips to stall his protests. "Why don't you work on that water I gave you while I come back with the crackers?" 

Magnus looks between the finger and Alec with somewhat of a bewildered - almost offended expression which Alec unfortunately for him finds adorable instead. He shoots the other man a cheeky smile before getting up and heading to the pantry where the unused ingredients and emergency rations were kept.

He makes quick work of grabbing a sleeve of salted crackers and a banana. Jogging back, he casts an assessing glance at his team and the part-timers milling about, working in accordance with the plan.

He's a little surprised no one has bothered him with something inane yet - which they very well could have gotten from the multiple briefings and the exhaustive dossier -  when he spots Underhill at the centre of the ballroom. When the blond catches his eye, Alec gives him a grateful nod and makes a note to look into increasing his bonus. 

Thankfully, his small detour hasn't resulted in Magnus disappearing into the wind. He's still sat there, almost having worked through his water, now frowning at his phone. 

"Here, got you a banana too. I've heard it helps," Alec says, holding out the paltry offerings and feeling a bit like a kindergartner giving his crush his juice box.  Magnus puts away his phone and accepts them with a small smile putting aside the bottle and tearing open the silver foil of the crackers to pick one out and nibble at it, almost as if he knows that Alec would want to see him eat before he even thinks about letting him go. 

Alec sits by him, pulling out his own phone to skim through the work group chats, shooting off a message or two as needed. He keep Magnus in the periphery of his vision but knows that maybe he should give him a little space. It's all about the push and pull, and Alec dare he say, is an artist at it. He only looks up when Magnus clears his throat. 

"Thank you, again. I've taken up too much of your time and it's gotten really late," he breathes out. "I've eaten and I really am feeling okay now." 

There's not enough of a dent in the food but Alec knows better than to push. He's choosing his battles wisely and he feels there's gonna be a bit of a pushback against his next move. 

"Trust me, Magnus, it was no bother at all," he says, sliding his phone into the inside of his suit jacket and leaning forward slightly, testing the waters slightly, "It was my absolute pleasure." 

Magnus' gaze falls on his biceps, his chest, and slowly back up again, and Alec tries not to preen too obviously. "Well, I won't keep you from you work," he says, but makes no move to get up. 

"Let me at least call you a cab?" Alec implores, leaning closer still, his elbows on his knees, hands clasped loosely in a picture of nonchalance but only he knows how often he'd practiced this pose to highlight some of his better assets. "I wouldn't feel right if I don't make sure you got home safe." 

Something flickers on Magnus' face at that and Alec wishes he could read him better. For now, he ignores it in favor of keeping his face free of the nerves he feels. 

"I called one already. You can walk me out, if it'll make you feel better," he concedes after a few seconds and Alec is careful not to look too smug at the concession. 

"One more thing," Alec says standing up and pulling his phone from within his jacket, "I need your number." 

Magnus' surprise is evident on his face as he stands up as well, a little shaky but nowhere near as unstable as he'd been earlier. It soothes Alec to see the improvement, some of which he's definitely taking credit for. 

"Why do you need my number?" 

"So I can check in on you. And see if you might be up for a date sometime over the weekend," Alec says, holding out the phone expectantly. 

"I - uh- are you serious?" there's something almost sad about the incredulous question - as if that's not something Magnus is asked often. Huh, their loss. 

"Deadly. I was hoping to get to know you tonight. I thought you'd left the party even though I vouched for you at the door." 

"I had to - you know, it doesn't matter. I don't know if I - I can't - Really, thank you for everything but I really have to get home now," Magnus says, avoiding Alec's eyes and slipping past him, with a waft of the ozone scent clinging to him. Alec stands frozen for a second as he looks at Magnus power walking to the main entrance, a death grip on the banana and crackers Alec had given him. 

Before Alec can make good on his promise to walk him out, he's accosted by Raj for something and it's only a miracle - or Underhill's shrewd intervention - that allowed him this respite to talk to Magnus, to take care of him. 

His gaze keeps flitting to the main doors, as if he could catch a glimpse of the elusive man so determined to run from him, from the something blooming between them. From Alec's experience, this is a bit more than just playing hard to get. Magnus Bane might be an enigma, but he is definitely not uninterested.

Skittish.

This might need a softer touch.

Chapter Text

Magnus blinks awake groggily, squinting at the beam of sunlight assaulting his face from where he'd forgotten to close the curtains completely last night. For a minute, he's disoriented and floating in the murky pools of sleepiness before the events of the last night come rushing back in snatches. 

The overtaxing of his magic and his body, the rush of power as his magic roared in response to his call, the anxiety and panic panic panic of his mark being exposed, the haze of almost slipping into unconsciousness, the pretty boy coming to his rescue - for the second time that night - as if summoned by his thoughts... 

Magnus groaned, hiding his face behind his hands as the rest of the night filtered in. The way he'd been so weak, barely able to stand forcing Alec to leave whatever important work he had to be doing to - to babysit him. And he'd been so kind despite Magnus' grumpiness and general awkwardness in front of the gorgeous man.

It had been a little startling to see the worry, no one had worried about Magnus in so long. 

Magnus rubs his eyes as if trying to erase the memories of his insipid stuttering, the way his brain stalled at the heat of his gaze.

Speaking of, clarity strikes him about why Alec seemed so disturbed at the question of Magnus ingesting something handed to him. At the time he'd chalked it up to an odd response but now it's obvious that Alec thought someone had drugged him. The look in Alec's eyes, that anger - righteous, raze down cities kind, it makes something warm curl low in his stomach, a frisson of arousal. It had only stayed for a moment but even through his confusion at the time, that look had jolted him.

Now, knowing that the protective anger was for Magnus... 

He turns over and buries his head in the pillow with another groan of embarrassment. He can't believe he'd almost implied that Alec might've been the one to hypothetically drug him. At least the man hadn't taken offense, taking his dumbass reply in stride.

He remembers how easily he'd been bulldozed over, he who once could run circles around anyone, how he'd stuttered and almost let slip a few truths about how much he didn't want to leave despite his attempts at the same. 

Stubborn, stubborn Alec Lightwood. It's all his damned fault for not letting him leave. To ask him on a date. There must be something wrong with the man, he decides.

There's no way he saw the incompetent, helpless, brainless version of Magnus and was actually interested. Maybe he was just being nice. 

He did say he was serious, you coward...

Magnus buries his head under the pillow now, clamping it shut at the sides of his face, hoping that would stop his ping-ponging thoughts.  

What is he even doing, flopping about in bed like an angsty preteen. He should be taking stock of his magic, should be making a potion to replenish his strength, should be... waiting for a call? 

An impulse has his hand reaching out to grab the phone from where he'd thrown it. He feels the phone meet his hand as if snaking closer at his demand.

He'll have to get this residual magic leaking from his pores under control if he wants to cast another spell without blowing up his loft. Or himself. 

He shifts his head from under the pillow to crack open an eye. He's only looking at the time, really. There is no way he's waiting for a call. 

The phone is dead, just his luck but before he can throw it away and go back to his cocoon of misery, Magnus catches sight of his reflection in the black surface. 

The smudges don't provide much of a clear reflection but the shine of a golden pupil is more that enough to have him sit up - literally- and notice. 

Forgoing all thoughts - and the way his head spins slightly at the sudden elevation change - Magnus forces his eyes open wide and holds out a hand to conjure a mirror. He gets a split second's warning to duck and roll off the bed, falling onto his shoulder and hip on the hard floor as a rectangular body-length mirror falls onto the bed just inches from where Magnus sat. 

At least nothing is broken.

Magnus uncurls from his position on the ground, slowly nudging the mirror into a better position. It's just an ordinary bloody mirror. Reflecting his half-naked, disheveled cat-eyed self in his full glory. 

"Alright. No spells until that is fixed," he pants, heart still racing at his near-miss. 

He can go through a day waiting for his magic to settle. The wild pendulum swing from decades of dormancy to using more magic than he has in centuries - well, it was bound to have some side effects. 

Having his magic back is worth having to cancel all his appointments even the high paying ones, to have magic leaks, to feel drained yet buzzing with energy at the same time. 

It's even worth having his warlock mark exposed, the cat eyes that were the source of such strife, such pain in his entire long life.

It's not like anyone's coming to see him. Or that he can't handle a few hours sequestered by himself, waiting for his magic to settle into something more malleable. 

A thought strikes him like a kick in the ass when he reaches for his phone charger - or rather, it reaches him flying through the air. 

I never even gave him my number.

~

Alec wakes to the loud ringing of his cell phone shattering his deep sleep. Groggily, he grasps at the phone and squints at Izzy's name flashing on the screen. 

"'Lo?"

"Hey, big brother. Still not up?"

"Had a late night," Alec says muffling a yawn. "You need something or can I go back to bed?"

"Grumpy. Just wanted to invite you to lunch!"

Izzy's excited tone filters into awareness. Usually his sister and friends know better than to disturb him the day after a big event - whether it be a successful deal or an organization-wide milestone. He needs the time to unwind and recharge his social battery. 

"Is there something special?"

"We're celebrating Simon's first big break" Izzy pauses dramatically before continuing, "And, us moving in together!" 

"Mm, congrats, Iz. I'll be there. Wh't time'sit?"

"It's at two. Gives you more than an hour to get your ass to Roberto's."

Alec grunts in goodbye, hanging the phone over Izzy's nagging to set an alarm. Now that his REM cycle is broken, there's no way he's falling asleep again. 

He rubs his eyes, staring at the recent calls displayed on the screen after the call cut a little despondently. Izzy's contact sits at the top over a series of work contacts, interspersed with Simon's - which again was for work. It's an indication of how the anniversary celebration had taken over his life in the past few weeks. 

He knows if he scrolls down he'll find an unsaved number or two - fuck buddies that he doesn't bother giving space in his contacts list. Their arrangements are casual, with no expectations and no obligations. An itch to scratch. 

As pathetic as it is, the fact that his contacts are still missing one makes him feel a little empty. 

He wouldn't have realised it if last night hadn't happened - taking it as normal, being satisfied with the status quo - and turned him upset down. A pair of chocolate brown eyes framed by pretty eyelashes had dragged him down the rabbit hole. Alec snorts at himself, he's been spending too much time with Val. 

Shaking his head, he heaves himself out of bed and stretches. After quickly freshening up, he decides to go for a run to clear his head. 

He'd much prefer an early morning workout session but he doesn't have enough time for a satisfying session and he doesn't think Izzy would be too happy if he ditched them. Especially not since she'd been so worried about their relationship not moving to the next level. 

His usual circuit has him dodging more traffic than usual due to the lateness of the hour but blasting music through his earphones helps filter out some of city's noises. The sun seem unusually bright today, throwing everything in glaring technicolor. 

By the time he makes his way back to his apartment, he feels a little less like snapping. Your face could curdle milk, an ex had told him once. He's hoping he looks a bit more sociable by the time he gets to lunch. 

Roberto's is slightly crowded but thankfully the gang is already seated, waiting on just him, apparently. He spots Clary's bright red hair, Jace's broad shoulders, Izzy's gesticulating gestures, Simon's besotted smile. It's funny how these people wormed his way into his hearts - well, Izzy was already there ever since Mom brought home a tiny bundle from the hospital. The rest had trickled in as their group expanded and now, despite the rough starts with Jace, Clary, and Simon, Alec can count them as family. 

By the time he reaches the table, taking his seat next to Izzy, he realizes that he's the only single on the table. Hopefully, not for long. That is if he can track down Magnus.

Alec lets the conversations wash over him, even if he doesn't respond as much or as enthusiastically but no one holds that against him. 

As happy as he is for his sister, he feels a pang of longing at the thought of him having something like that - an ephemeral future. If he were willing to be more honest, he'd acknowledge that the phantom man he imagines in times like these looks a lot like a certain someone. 

"So, what gives?" Izzy asks, leaning close and nudging his bicep. "Did something happen after we left last night?" 

Alec can see the healing bruise over her eye from yesterday's ill-timed kickboxing class, partially hidden under a coat of concealer. Maybe Izzy should take tips from Clary. The redhead had worked her magic to hide it completely. 

"I met someone." 

"Oh my god, that's amazing! What's his name? Where did you meet? Are you gonna call him?" Izzy asks, almost vibrating with excitement. 

"His name's Magnus and I-"

"Wait, did you say Magnus? I think I saw him at the party last night. Is that where you met?" Clary pipes in. 

"You know Magnus?"

"No, I - not really. I think I saw his commercial on TV a few times." 

"On TV... like cable?" Alec would be hard-pressed to find anyone without a Smart TV in their field. 

"For someone revolutionizing the tech space, your dad can be weirdly old fashioned," Jace huffs, echoing Alec's latent thoughts. 

"It's how geniuses are, they all have their quirks," Izzy defend.

"Like the Mad Hatter obsession," Simon adds sagely. 

"Did you not hear him tell the story a thousand times last night?"

"Hold up, time out. Back to Magnus. What commercial, Clary?" Alec holds up a hand when he feels the conversation derail.

"Oh, his psychic business. It's kind of a corny commercial but I'm pretty sure it's the same Magnus." 

"Psychic Business?" 

"Wait, did you not know what he does for a living?" Jace crows with laughter at Alec's expense, "How quickly did you convince him to come back to yours?"

"It's not like that." Alec says, a little more sternly than the situation requires. But he could be excused. Because he never would have imagine cute-yet-suprisingly-built boy he met last night was a psychic. Quirky, sure but a corny cable-TV-advertising possible con man? 

Alec looks up to find four pairs of eyes staring at him, hungry for details. He rolls his eyes in annoyance, unsure how much he wants to share with the peanut gallery. 

"You sound serious," Jace comments.  

"I don't know. I don't even have a number." 

"Do you want me to track him down?" Izzy asks, almost rubbing her hands villainously at the prospect of electronically stalking Alec's runaway not-date. 

"No. He's - I'll handle it." 

It takes a few rebuffed questions before they drop the topic, but they do drop it. 

By the time he reaches home, unfortunately, he has no ideas on what to do with the Magnus Dilemma. 

There's no doubting the spark, the mutual interest, between them. And, he'd liked the glimpses of he'd gotten of Magnus' personality - snarky, shy, sweet, stubborn by turns. He'd been a bit taken aback by the choice of profession; he'd expected teacher or artist or something.

Despite being gay and growing up mostly in New York, Alec couldn't care less about astrology or tarot. Despite being partially raised by a grandmother who told tales of supernatural beings and mythical wars of good and evil, he never really believed in anything he didn't have evidence for. 

Was the career path enough to put him off Magnus completely? 

Alec thinks about it, about letting this connection go, about returning to his life of work, exercise, hanging out with his family, and sporadic hookups. Already his thoughts were consumed with Magnus the whole day. Would he want the empty spaces that purging those would leave? 

No way in hell.

Maybe something whimsical is just what he needs. 

Unfortunately for him, Magnus is fucking impossible to track down. Despite owning his own business, his web presence is close to nill. There's no website, no YouTube channel, no blog, no Instagram, no Twitter... nothing. There are no copies of the TV ad on YouTube or any of the hosting sites either. It was probably a localised campaign. 

He's a little frustrated, and more than a little unsettled. He works in a tech company. It shouldn't be this hard to find someone. And there's no way someone around Alec's age would have zero internet or social media presence. Especially a business owner. Even if his name was a chosen name or something he changed later in life, it wouldn't discount a Facebook.

Briefly he entertains the possibility of Magnus being part of some nefarious underground dealings. Then, he dismisses the thought. There's no way. 

After sifting through multiple search results - bloated by Latin translations of the name itself which, for a man dressed like a substitute teacher Great Destruction was a very unfitting name - Alec finally stumbles upon a forum mentioning a consultation with Magnus. 

He scours the website for any more mentions and finds a shitty resolution photograph of a classy business card - gold cursive print embossed on a plain black card stock - from about three years ago. 

ALEC: Can you call this number and tell me who picks up??

IZZY: Gimme a sec
IZZY: It reached his voicemail
IZZY: Go get him, tiger! 

Alec open his contacts, saves the number and, hovering over the message icon under Magnus' name. 

Twenty-two hours is long enough, right?

Chapter Text

Twenty-two hours is too damn long!

It had taken Magnus a while to adjust to the perceptual shifts, the increase in peripheral vision, the enhanced night vision. He'd had to shut most of the curtains in the loft after the headache he'd gotten squinting in the bright light for an hour. Thankfully, once he'd adjusted, the headache had vanished too. 

Seems like despite the leak of residual magic, the self-healing was still active. His magic seemed to be close to bursting, flooding his every thought with intent.

When he'd finally made it out of the bedroom in the morning, his desire for tea had the kettle turning on by itself, whistling loudly in seconds; even unplugging it didn't make a difference. The cups in the kitchen vibrating and launching themselves out of the cupboard and crashing at his feet. Standing in the midst of porcelain shards and misbehaving kitchen appliances, Magnus had to meditate after a long, long time to call back the tendrils of magic and focus on centering it within himself. 

The first thing he'd done was barricade himself on the terrace after ensuring there was enough food and water for his cats. There was no way he was risking the lives of his tiny - only - companions.

His magic was manic, bursting out as if in celebration at finally being untethered. He couldn't pull it back with force, didn't want to force his magic down like a disobedient mutt. His magic was serving him still, albeit a bit too enthusiastically - and he felt guilt at being unable to call it back on his own accord.

Instead, Magnus strove to relearn his control, falling back onto centuries old lessons. 

It had taken the considerable part of his day, hours of Tai Chi where he gathered his magic into a deep blue ball, interspersed with meditative trances where he reacquainted his body with his magic - strengthening the connection. 

By the time evening hit, his body was exhausted. Even lifting a finger felt like a herculean task. 

But he'd finally reestablished the connection, got his magic synergised with himself. At least there won't be any more accidents like the one from this morning. 

On the other hand, his warlock mark had still refused to be glamoured away! 

Oh, he could call the glamour but the moment his concentration slipped, the cat eyes were back in full force. The frequent shifts between his more mundane sight and the full force of his cat-eyed vision left him nauseous so, he'd just done away with the glamour.

It's not like there was anyone he had to hide for. 

His magic almost purred in contentment at the thought. Tired of hiding. 

Inevitably, once he let go of the glamour, his exhaustion came back full force and Magnus fell into a light nap. 

The chirping of his phone awoke him - he'd probably forgotten to put it on silent mode after last night's party. Belatedly, he realized that he hadn't gotten around to charging it but the phone still displayed a cheery full battery. Along with a text from an unknown number. 

UNKNOWN: Hi Magnus, this is Alec from the party last night. Took me some time to track you down or I would've texted sooner. Wanted to know if you got home okay?

A small thrill shot up Magnus' spine, heart hummingbirding in his chest at the text. 

Alec. Alec Lightwood. 

He'd be deceiving himself if he said he hadn't thought about his tall, handsome, kind savior from last night. At the worst moments, he'd even imagined how wonderful it would be to have strong arms to retreat into. To have someone slowly feed him snacks, fetch him tea, hold his hand as he worked on getting his magic under control. 

Invariably, those phantoms were all suspiciously Alec-shaped. 

His phone display turns off after a minute of inactivity and Magnus glimpses his golden eyes, almost flinching away from the sight. What in Lilith's name had he even been thinking about. He couldn't have a normal, mundane relationship. Not when he was still like this. 

But at the thought of ignoring the text, he felt a little pit of despair, an ache of missed opportunities - as if he were turning away from something momentous. 

Groaning in frustration, he exited out of the messaging app and opened the search engine. He couldn't do anything without some information gathering first. 

Alexander "Alec" Lightwood. 

High up in the Institute's managerial structure, the website used some fancy words for someone managing the personnel and day-to-day functioning of the Institute itself. As far as Magnus knew, it was rare for someone so young to have such a high station. 

Although, from the business articles and company news feed, it was apparent that Alec - Alexander - was competent yet affable, his charming smile gracing the screen often in these puff pieces. There was also a hint of a commander in his bearing - gleamed from the shots where he was in the corner of a frame, caught unawares. 

He was only a few ladder rungs below the CEO & CTO - Valentine Morgenstern. 

Morgenstern, Lightwood, Branwell - Nephilim names. Despite the centuries since Shadowhunters lurked around New York, the Institute is still dominated by Nephilim. Only now it's a tech giant. By virtue of class exclusivity and keeping things in-house, the angel-blooded became a social elite group - like the Kennedys - rather than the stern, oppressive warriors of the past. 

It was another complication - despite the lack of anything remotely angelic manifesting in the world since the sealing of the demons, he is still wary of associating closely with the descendants of Nephilim. Not that he's had any close contact with Downworlders either. 

He can't even remember the last time he spoke to Ragnor or Catarina. 

Alec's social media profiles are public, providing carefully curated feeds of aesthetic pictures, interspersed with social outings with a bunch of recurring people - a young sister easily identified by the similarity of their features, a shaggy haired wide-smiling boy who sticks close to the aforementioned sister, Clary, and her boyfriend - Jace, apparently. There's a sense of camaraderie in the pictures, the easy comfort of long-lasting friendships and love. 

He feels a sense of loss, the grief of his own connections withering away as he shut himself from the Shadow World once his magic went dormant - the reminders too painful. 

He should try and track his friends down. If nothing else to apologise. And a tiny part of him also wants to show off his newly awakened magic. 

His investigation is stopped kind of suddenly by the app prompting him to sign up to view more and he's a little tempted to give in to his curiosity and cave to making an account. But he doesn't know the first thing about social media. And he doesn't want to inadvertently alert Alec to his snooping. 

Plus, he got the answers he needed - an image of the smart, competent man with a surprisingly open heart. And the lack of any obvious romantic entanglements - although in his experience with his clients, philandering men rarely needed to broadcast their dalliances on public platforms. 

Not that he cares. Alec can flirt with or associate with anyone he likes. It's not like Magnus has any claim on him. 

Another text pings on his phone, almost as if summoned by his thoughts. 

UNKNOWN: Sorry if I came on too strong at the party or earlier with the text. I've been kinda worried about you. 

Magnus can feel the subtle nudging to respond, but also the lack of demands in the text. Only concern. And maybe a slight hope. It's actually kind of sweet. 

It's maybe this sweetness that throws his heart into overdrive. It feels harder to dust the cobwebs off of his social skills than his magic. What can I even say?

Should he just give a simple acknowledgement? Should he try to play coy? Should he ask questions? Should he ignore it and hope Alec loses interest sooner than later as he is bound to - once he finds how boring he is compared to Alec's dazzling personality. 

That last option feels the safest despite being the one he wants the least. He wants... 

A blue spark dances from his fingertips to the screen, opening the reply box with its blinking cursor as if waiting impatiently for him. His magic feels much the same - like a cat swishing its tail, waiting, watching. 

If nothing else, he has to ensure that he can run into Clary and Blondie once he got his magic under control. He had to check on their memories. And if given the chance, make sure they were never brought to the surface.  

MAGNUS: i'm doing much better now thanks for checking in 
MAGNUS: hope i didn't delay your work too much 

ALEC: I'm happy to hear that! And no, don't worry. It really was my pleasure. 
ALEC: I'm just glad that it really was your number I found. 

MAGNUS: yes how did you find me

ALEC: Can't reveal all my secrets just yet. Have to preserve the mystery. 

MAGNUS: right of course 

ALEC: So, when can I expect you to keep your promise? 

MAGNUS: what promise 

ALEC: To let me walk you to the cab. 

MAGNUS: but i'm home 

ALEC: You didn't let me last night. So you kinda owe me. 

MAGNUS: owe you a walk to the cab I already took? 

ALEC: I was thinking you let me walk you back home this time, maybe after drinks or coffee? I have to collect interest on that promise. 

MAGNUS: is this 
MAGNUS: are yuo being coy?? 

ALEC: I don't do coy. 
ALEC: But I am asking you on a date. If that's what you're wondering. 

MAGNUS: what happened to not coming on too strong 

ALEC: It got you talking to me. Thought you'd appreciate some directness. 

MAGNUS: i m sorry i ca 
MAGNUS: UES
MAGNUS: asfjkn

ALEC: All okay? 

MAGNUS: sorry that was my cat 

ALEC: You have a cat? 

MAGNUS: 2 

ALEC: Cute. So about that date? 

MAGNUS: im not sure when i'll have time my week's a bit busy 

ALEC: What about Saturday? 

MAGNUS: maybe 

ALEC: Can I check in on Wednesday? You can choose the place, if it helps. 

MAGNUS: sure 

ALEC: And can I text you in between that? 

MAGNUS: why 

ALEC: Is that a no? 

MAGNUS: no 
MAGNUS: I mean yes 
MAGNUS: you can if u want 

ALEC: Cute. 

MAGNUS: pardon 

ALEC: You should sleep. It's getting late. I'm glad I got to talk to you 

MAGNUS: me too 

ALEC: Goodnight, Magnus

MAGNUS: good night Alexander

Chapter Text

Monday morning brings with it a slew of work and a pile of paperwork burying Alec's desk. He's still riding high from the short conversation he had with Magnus last night. It had taken everything in him to not cave and call just to hear his voice again, to see if he was a bit more open on call or if he stuttered as cutely as the night of the party. 

Despite his head in the clouds, Alec manages to get through the first half of the day in his almost militant way. It's only when lunch brings Izzy to his office with her bag of takeout and a slew of questions about his "new flame" that he allows himself to replay their conversation and look for any hints that he might have misses earlier. 

"How creepy would it be if I booked an appointment with Magnus?"

"Oh my god, big brother. Look at you all smitten!" Izzy crows, pointing at him with her disposable fork. Alec grimaces and leans back to avoid any unseemly splatters. He also pulls his lunch - homemade, thank you - out of range.

"I'm serious, Izzy, I don't think I can wait for Saturday."

"You never know, he might think it's romantic!"

"I forgot I'm talking to the girl who stalked Simon through his gigs in every bar in the Tri-state area."

"Rude! At least I didn't make a spreadsheet of my crush's mood based on her coffee order like Jace."

"Jace has never made a spreadsheet in his life."

"You get the idea. Us Lightwoods -"

"and Herondale - "

"- we love hard. And we go a little crazy. But with the right person, it wouldn't matter. They can handle our crazy."

"If you're trying to convince yourself that Clary and Simon are the sane ones then you're definitely losing it."

"Well, they compliment our crazy. Maybe Magnus can match yours."

"I don't wanna spook him. It's - this feels important," Alec confesses mostly to the dregs of his chicken breast and steamed veggies.

"Aw, I never thought I'd see you like this."

"First time for everything. I feel like I'm losing all my coolness just thinking about it."

"Oh, Alec. You've never been cool," Izzy said solemnly, patting his shoulder. She leaves a small greasy smudge on his shirt. 

Somehow, he holds out until the evening. A part of him had been hoping that Magnus might make the first move. But, this early on he doesn't mind doing the chasing. Especially since he isn't getting any signs that it's his approach that is unwelcome.

Magnus' resistance seems more to do with certain circumstances or maybe an unfamiliarity with being pursued- although Alec finds that hard to believe. Who wouldn't look at Magnus and not be drawn into his orbit. 

ALEC: So, I don't remember telling you what Alec is short for. 
ALEC: Did you look me up? 

It's a bit risky sending the flirty text which could easily be misconstrued. But the hints of snark he'd gotten from Magnus during their last meeting have him wanting to uncover that sharp tongue. Plus, even if over text, it's a little fun to tease Magnus, prod at him a little, see what Alec would get - the fumbling or the brattiness.   

It's only a few minutes later that his phone vibrates with a notification. Alec's not ashamed to admit that he almost pounces to read it. 

MAGNUS: Had to make sure u weren't a serial killer...

ALEC: Do I give off that kind of vibe? 

MAGNUS: Serial killers are often charming 

Alec can't help smile at Magnus' response. This is him flirting, right? He seems in a better mood today than last night. And his punctuation is improved which is definitely a good sign - the sloppiness might've been a bit cute but over time Alec knew it would get on his nerves as it had with an ex before. At least Magnus hadn't used too much text speak or too many abbreviations. Or weird emoticons. 

ALEC: So you found me charming? 

MAGNUS: I think you think you're charming

There's that snark. Alec feels a thrill he hadn't in a while, an almost giddiness that comes with the getting to know you stage. 

ALEC: Ouch, that hurt, Magnus. But I'll let it go this time. 
ALEC: You didn't answer my question. 

MAGNUS: I think it was implied I did 
MAGNUS: Look you up that is...
MAGNUS: Is that a problem? 

ALEC: Not at all. Find anything interesting? 

MAGNUS: I didn't look too deep 

ALEC: I tried to look you up too. I had much less success than you did. 

Alec waits for ten minutes but his text remains read but unanswered. Did he touch a nerve? 

His mailbox pings with an e-mail just as he's about to double text and with a sigh Alec puts away his phone to focus back on work. His week has been - and will be - relatively busy and he can't afford more than a few minutes of playing hooky. Hopefully, by the time he can check his phone again, Magnus would have replied. 

MAGNUS: I'm not really a social media person 
MAGNUS: or a tech person really... 

ALEC: Old fashioned, huh? That's charming. 
ALEC: I meant to ask before you distracted me but are you feeling better today? 

MAGNUS: I'm fine 

ALEC: You sound a bit better than last night.
ALEC: I'm glad.

MAGNUS: I didn't think it was that obvious 
MAGNUS: Yesterday was rough. Today is better 
MAGNUS: Thanks for asking though

ALEC: Of course. Any more clarity on what your week looks like? 

MAGNUS: My week? 

ALEC: For our date. I know I said I would check in on Wednesday but since I have you here, thought I'd take my chances. 

MAGNUS: Um 
MAGNUS: You said saturday right?

ALEC: Or before if you're free. I might only be able to do late evenings though. Dinner if you like or a drink. 

By the time Magnus replies, Alec has already finished washing up and is almost ready to tuck in for the night. 

MAGNUS: A drink sounds good 
MAGNUS: When?

ALEC: Great. Friday? I can get out of the office by 6:30 and can meet up by 7:30. 
ALEC: Would you like to choose the place? 

MAGNUS: I haven't been out drinking in a while 
MAGNUS: Do you have any recommendations?

ALEC: There's a bar my friends often meet up at. It's got some live music sometimes. Nothing too loud or disruptive. The crowd is decent and decently priced cocktails. 

MAGNUS: Sure 
MAGNUS: I'll be there

ALEC: Amazing. I'll text you the location. 

MAGNUS: Thanks 

ALEC: No, thank you, Magnus. For giving me a chance. 
ALEC: I am gonna turn in for the night now. Talk to you soon?

MAGNUS: Sure
MAGNUS: Goodnight Alexander 

ALEC: Goodnight, Magnus. Sweet dreams. 

The week passes dreadfully slow yet at the same time in the blink of an eye. Alec is caught up in the drudgery of operations and logistics, of post-event debriefs, roadmapping the upcoming months and catching up on the things that had been pushed to the side to focus on the anniversary celebrations. 

He barely has time to pester Magnus too much, his own replies being staggered. His work has a tendency to take over his life sometimes and it hadn't gone over well with some of his previous connections.

They do text a little, mainly by Alec finding excuses to initiate, sending him the location, confirming the date and time, the likes. The seeming lack of effort from the other end would bother him usually but inevitably every time he texts, the conversation flows naturally enough.

Magnus' replies get a bit longer, involve a bit more details about his day or his cats, ask more questions about Alec - inane stuff but it still excited Alec to engage in the small talk. 

It's been a while for him too though and as charming as he might be, he's been in a bad habit to skip the tedious conversations and keep his hook-ups transactional - especially after the disappointments of his handful attempts at a "proper" relationship. 

And, it helps break the ice. Hopefully making Magnus more comfortable. The last thing Alec wants is for Magnus to feel strong-armed into the date. Or relationship, if there is one in the future.

Plus, it would be a huge disappointment if the date was an awkward, uncomfortable mess. Maybe he's putting too much faith in a momentary connection but Alec kinda wants to see where this goes. Being raised by shrewd businesspeople and following in his parents' footsteps, he can recognize the potential in any investment. 

Callous as it might be it's worked for Alec for so long. He knows when to cut his losses. This though - Magnus - feels worth the time. 

The prospect of the date on the horizon to close out his working week - well, barring the few hours on Saturdays he inevitably ends up working - carries him through the days. 

Come Friday evening, he is out the door by 6:45, attracting a few curious glances. He usually clocks out closer to eight; seven if Izzy drags him out by the ear for a get together. Taking the subway to avoid rush hour traffic, he makes a pit stop at subway restroom to freshen up and quickly change his shirt in the stall to a less stuffy one, reapply his cologne before making the walk to the bar. 

He reaches the bar by 7:29. Just in time...  Thankfully, Magnus isn't there yet. 

ALEC: Hi, I'm here. I can wait for you outside if you're close or grab us a table if you'll be a while. No worries either way. 

MAGNUS: Hi
MAGNUS: Almost there

ALEC: Awesome! Waiting for you outside.

Alec takes a deep breath, trying to tamp down on his goofy grin. Suave, be suave, Lightwood.

It's as he looks up from his phone that he spots Magnus, meandering around the people populating the busy street. The breath he took is caught in his chest at the sight. 

Magnus looks.... gorgeous. He's wearing a deep maroon shirt with a mandarin collar, tucked into a pair of grey slacks that hug his thighs deliciously. His hair is a little more windswept than the strict styling of the party but still neat. 

He's unreasonably annoyed at the crowd hiding bits and pieces of Magnus as he makes his way. A sight like this should be unimpeded. 

When he finally gets closer, it's like the red sea has parted, leaving just the two of them in front of each other, unheeding of others.

"Magnus, hi," Alec's breath rushes out in a decidedly not-suave greeting. At least his body kickstarts his breathing again. It would suck to go into cardiac arrest just at the sight of his date. 

Not that he can be blamed. Now that Magnus is closer, he catches the delicate gold embroidery on the shirt and is that fucking eyeliner? 

His eyes are stuck on Magnus', lined with a thin black line of kohl. It draws the attention but not glaringly - it's almost coquettish in how it draws the eye highlighting the shape of it, complimenting the chocolate brown irises. 

"Alexander," Magnus replies, and he raises a hand in an adorably awkward half-wave. 

For some reason the mental image of one of Simon's video games declaring "Critical hit!!" flashes across Alec's mind.  

The dorkiness while looking like that is a paradox Alec didn't know he needed - hitting all his buttons in such a fucking accurate way. 

Alec clears his throat trying to jump start his brain. By some accounts, he's a fully functioning adult. He's ways away from the awkward closeted highschooler who couldn't look at a cute boy without blushing. 

"You look amazing." 

Magnus blinks and smiles shyly, ducking his head a little, breaking their staring contest stalemate. "You too. Should we..." He trails off as he catches Alec's gaze again. 

"Right, we should head in and grab a table," Alec smiles and steps to the side, holding the door open. "After you." 

"Thank you," Magnus says as he walks past. The same ozone scent as at the party wafts over as he does, as if hugging his clothes, his hair. It's unlike any cologne Alec's smelt - like the aftermath of a thunderstorm- and it ignites his curiosity. Somehow, it suits Magnus completely - like lightning in a bottle. 

Electrifying. 

I'm in so much trouble...

Chapter Text

I'm in so much trouble... 

Magnus looks despondently at his wardrobe. The lack of social invitations left a big gap in his sartorial choices, his options limited to comfy cardigans, sensible pants, and a brown suit that he'd already worn at the Institute's anniversary party. No matter how strapped for choice he is, there is no way he's repeating the outfit in front of his dishy date. 

He pulls out a nicer cardigan, a shirt to go with it and a pair of grey slacks. There's no use trying to change who he is - who he has become. It's not like he wants to impress Alec. This is just - this is just so that he would get the itch under his skin quiet, so maybe he could sneakily inquire about the unsuspecting duo whose memories he'd altered. 

His affirmations fall short of convincing himself. If that were the case then he should've, would've, stopped texting Alec within the week, not been as inquisitive about his life, asking questions, desperate for that little thread of communication. 

He'd been parched and the steady stream of texts had been a trickle of water that provided relief. 

There was something about Alec that felt like an electric current, that felt like warmth in his chest, that felt like... yes, him. Magnus is about 90% sure it wasn't just his magic. 

His magic has settled, seeped into his bones, every molecule of his being - something at once familiar and exhilarating. His Mark is under a constant glamour, no unwanted surprises anymore (mostly) - it still flares up a little when he exhausts his magical reserves.  

There is no real reason to call out of this date.

Well, other than the fact that it has been a long, long time since he's been on one. He doesn't know how to interact with a mundane in that way - especially one with angel heritage. 

Long before he got his magic back, romance had not been on the cards. His solitary life with two cats and suggestible clients was - well, it wasn't good but it was safe. The betrayals of the past, the heartbreak, the discomfort of the world moving along without him, the feeling of being a relic of the past - too many reasons to close off his heart. 

And, then there's the whole thing about trying to use Alex to get closer to Clary and her boyfriend so that he can check on their memory spells. 

His heart has been in his throat all day and he's thought up of too many excuses ranging from the normal to the absurd to try and cancel this. 

He needs to think like a warlock, dust off the cobwebs on his strategic brain and treat it as a heist. There's no other way he's going to get through this if he keeps fixating on tall gorgeous hazel-eyed brunets. 

What would he have done? Magnus Bane would have swanned in ready to seduce the shadowhunter and extracted the info he needed, surreptitiously checked on the two mundanes, and broken things off cleanly. Although, Magnus Bane would never have been in the situation to need to follow up after his spellwork. He'd always had immaculate results. Well, mostly. External forces notwithstanding. 

Sighing to himself, Magnus glances skeptically at the outfit laid on the bed. If this were a Hollywood movie, now would be the time he would be calling up his friends to receive encouragement, disparaging remarks about his outfit and teasing banter. They would then help him with a better outfit and push him out the door, throwing him into Alec's lap. 

Maybe once this would have been possible. If he'd maintained contact with Cat, with Ragnor. Maybe they'd be on a video call with him right now. Well, not Ragnor - the man will never catch up to technology of the era. 

Surviving for so long on his own, it's not the first time he misses his friends. But the exact shape of this longing is new. He'd resigned himself to his fate only for a redhead Shadowhunter to smash through everything and force him into new situations at his decrepit old age. 

In the privacy of his home - and mind - Magnus can admit to himself that he's been scared. Scared to reach out to the withered connections he'd tried to make do without. Scared to face the recriminations of his stubbornness, his resentment at his peers still chugged along with their magic. Not to the glory they had at their prime but enough to still qualify as a warlock. While he, the son of a Greater Demon, was essentially mundane. 

In a fit of frustration, Magnus vanishes the outfit and pulls out his clothes, a whirlwind of pants shirts sweaters hoodies cycling around him. There is no use being so fucking melancholic. He's got to be better, got to do better and sitting here feeling sorry for himself is getting kinda old. 

Who says an old dog can't learn new tricks? Magnus is still Magnus Bane. And it's time to show up for himself. 

His magic pulls at all his outfits, articles of clothing being rejected with a wave. Too dull, too boring, too drab. He needs something new, a change but not too much of one or he'll spend the whole night uncomfortable in his skin, even more so than he will now. Something, something that says he's put in effort but isn't too eye catching. He's used to going under the radar now and too much attention might just make him combust.

Fancy that, Magnus Bane the attention whore afraid of attention.

There is a maroon shirt. It's rarely been worn - an impulse online purchase because he liked the way it looked on the model. A linen shirt with a mandarin collar. The material is a little scratchy, his skin sensitive to the feeling; regaining his magic has made him hypersensitive to stimuli. It only takes a snap to change the material into a softer, more elegant silk. His magic rushes out exuberantly and he notices the additional embellishments only once he's put it on. There is a delicate embroidered pattern in gold, the fitting is slightly more fitted than his usual outfits. 

Scared to make any more serious alterations to his everyday clothes, he decides to just go for a muted pair of slacks and his usual hairstyle. Even this slight change is probably the loudest he's dressed in this decade and he's already feeling a little out of place. 

Would he past muster? Is this too much? Alec seemed like a refined upper-class Manhattan boy. Would he want his dates to look like hedge-fund babies too? Would he balk at something too campy? At being in public with someone who looks too.. potentially bisexual? 

His phone pinging a text breaks his musings. 

ALEC: Hi, I'm here. I can wait for you if you're close or grab us a table if you'll be a while. No worries either way. 

Fuck. Nothing to be done now. This is what he's getting. 

A little feeling of rebellion rises from deep within Magnus' heart. 

A snap and his eyes are neatly lined with kohl. 

Let this be a test. For both him and Alec. 

He steps out of the portal in a deserted alleyway half a block away from the bar. The Friday evening crowd swallows his as soon as he steps onto the sidewalk. 

Maneuvering through, he catches sight of his destination and in front of it... Alexander. 

He looks slightly less dressed down than the party, but no less alluring. He's on his phone, head bent slightly but not slouching - his back is straight, drawing the eye to the shoulders, the flexed bicep, the lines of his back, the strength of his core. Weight evenly distributed across his long legs, he looks almost in parade rest. A fleeting image of a battle commander overlaps his in Magnus' mind. 

And then, he looks up and catches Magnus' eye. 

He'd been deluding himself if he thought his motives for agreeing to go out with Alec were purely calculating. 

Almost enthralled, he makes his way as if pulled by a magnetic force. 

"Magnus, hi," Alexander greets with a slight lopsided smile and Magnus can feel his heart somersaulting in his chest. His magic purrs beneath his skin and he can't guarantee that shaking Alec's hand wouldn't cause it to electrocute the man. 

He waves a little, returning the greeting and suddenly feels like a huge loser. But, that thought has no room to land cause Alec is smiling wider, his eyes on Magnus like he's delighted. As out of practice as he is, Magnus can still read desire. Something must be working for him. It thrills him, scares him and he can't help but want to escape. 

"You look amazing." Alec's voice is a little husky but it's a genuine compliment. There's little artifice here and it settles a small part of Magnus. Still, unused to compliments as he is, he can't help but escape Alec's honest gaze, trying to not curl into himself. 

"You too. Should we..." He trails off as he catches Alec's gaze again. It's like he never looked away from Magnus.

"Right, we should head in and grab a table." Alec smiles and steps to the side, holding the door open. "After you." 

Chivalrous. Cute. 

"Thank you," Magnus says as he walks past, his shoulder brushing Alec's.

Would the scent of Alec's cologne transfer onto his clothes again? 

Would he be able to smell the traces of him again when he's back home? 

Would even this tiny, seemingly inconsequential, moment with Alec leave its mark on Magnus? 

It almost seems inevitable.