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Alec feels barely conscious as he makes his way up to Magnus’s loft, too exhausted by tonight’s activities to do much else except stay upright. He doesn’t even knock before entering through the front door; Magnus knows he’s coming over, and tends to leave the door unlocked.
Alec heaves a tired sigh as he heads inside, rolls his neck, pulls off his jacket and tosses it onto the nearby couch, feels his muscles uncoil slightly in the comfort of Magnus’s home. It’s odd, but this has somehow become his favorite place to be.
“Alexander?” Magnus’s voice floats through the apartment. “Is that you?”
Alec grunts in reply, and soon Magnus is in his line of sight, heading towards him. He looks unusually casual, dressed in something similar to what Alec remembers him wearing the very first time Magnus made him a drink, right in this room. Sure, Luke was also severely injured in the next room, and everything was generally being turned upside-down, but Alec remembers the drink-part incredibly clearly. He realizes, in hindsight, that it started the chain reaction that eventually led him here, and that everything about that night will therefore be forever preserved in his memory. He can’t say he minds.
Alec takes a few steps forward to meet Magnus halfway, but stops when Magnus suddenly does. It surprises Alec, because the warlock looks completely taken aback, as though unable to quite believe what he’s seeing, and it takes a moment for Alec’s exhausted brain to put together the reason why.
“Oh,” he says, ducking his head self-consciously, gesturing vaguely at his face, at the black, smokey eyeliner his sister so expertly put on earlier that night. Blending in, she called it, as though partygoers at the club she, Alec, Jace and Clary were checking out would actually notice. The others went all-in, even Jace, and Alec suspects this whole mission was just an excuse for them―especially Izzy―to get dressed up and party, while trying to call it work. As it turned out, the night did end up resulting in a pretty big fight, and it did get pretty rough, so Alec can’t imagine what a mess he must look like right now, all sweaty and gross. Thank god Izzy only insisted on the eyeliner; she reasoned that at least Alec was already dressed the part, with a black tank top and his perpetually messy hair.
“It’s, uh―” Alec says. “It’s Izzy’s fault.”
He has no qualms about so readily throwing his sister under the bus; she put this ridiculous stuff on his face, she brought it on herself. But Magnus doesn’t react quite the way Alec expects him to. Instead, he tilts his head, eyes narrowing slightly, and Alec shifts uncomfortably where he stands. He felt silly before, but now it’s worse, and the way Magnus studies him so intently isn’t helping. Magnus tilts his head a little further, so as to more easily eye Alec up and down, slowly, in a way that makes Alec seriously consider that maybe warlocks have some kind of x-ray vision he isn’t aware of, and he swallows hard.
“Remind me to thank her,” Magnus says, voice low in a way Alec hasn’t really heard before. Well, except on certain occasions. Occasions that generally involve tongue and hands and heavy breathing and okay, maybe he’s having a slightly visceral reaction as he realizes that. He clears his throat, suddenly wide-awake.
“For what?” he asks dumbly, even though he’s pretty sure he knows what his boyfriend is referring to. Magnus smiles, meets his gaze. His eyes’ glamour slip away, revealing the bright yellow underneath, black slit-pupils watching Alec intently, and shit, Alec should not find it as hot as he does, but he can’t help it, something which Magnus is very aware of. It wouldn’t be the first time Alec is reduced to a dazed mess at the sight of them, combined with this very charming, glittery man he may or may not have given his heart to, looking at him the way he does.
“It suits you,” Magnus says, moving in even closer, slowly but determinedly placing one hand just below Alec’s waist. “Not that you aren’t always stunning,” he says with a quirk of his eyebrow, as well as his mouth, “but I do like this.”
He moves his other hand up to Alec’s face, runs his thumb along the skin just above his cheekbone, and Alec’s heart stutters.
“Yeah?” he says, a little hesitantly, not quite sure if Magnus is being serious.
“Yes,” Magnus says. “It’s a good look.”
He lets his gaze slide down Alec’s neck, his collarbones, his bare arms and strong shoulders that are on display thanks to his lack of sleeves, and it makes Alec feel confident and self-conscious all at once. Magnus Bane tends to have that effect on him.
“Yeah, well don’t get used to it,” he says, making Magnus’s cat eyes drag back up to his face. “It probably won’t become a habit.”
Magnus pouts, frowning, and it’s adorable, but Alec’s endearment is replaced by something far less innocent when Magnus’s mouth curves into a smile instead.
“Then I suppose I’ll have to make the best of it,” Magnus says in a purr, and as he presses his mouth against Alec’s and pushes his tongue past his lips, Alec closes his eyes, slides his hands down to the small of Magnus’s back, and thinks that maybe Izzy’s idea wasn’t all bad, after all.