Thrusting the small silver key into the lock, Alec manages to wedge the door open with the brute force of his shoulder- making a mental note to remind Magnus to repair the irksome thing- and he trudges into his boyfriend’s apartment on weary feet. Immediately he calls out for Magnus, fatigue ringing evident in the timbre of his voice, but Alec receives no response in return, the apartment is undisputedly vacant, the silence acutely deafening and the absence of a certain vivacious, witty warlock makes the usually warm, intimate space feel enormously empty. Magnus must still be in a meeting with one of his clients, Alec concludes, crestfallen. And he’s so exceedingly exhausted, every muscle in his body feels heavy with physical strain, debilitated from the mission Jace had coerced Alec into joining him on, and all he craves with a vehement ache, is to be wrapped up soundly in the safety of Magnus’ arms.
However, as he can’t indulge in that particular desire right now, Alec supposes he will have to settle for the next best thing. The promise of a blisteringly hot shower awaits him, and hopefully the intensity of the heated water will soothe the tendrils of weariness wreathed around his limbs.
So he pads softly through the deserted apartment, gaze flickering over the array of home decor magazines strewn across the coffee table, a collection of Magnus’ favourites that he had implored Alec to read, with animated exuberance, earlier that morning. Alec’s heart swells affectionately at the memory of his giddy boyfriend confessing his utmost love for ornate Persian rugs, lively sapphire sparks crackling from his fingertips with guileless excitement, like a child at Christmas time. Alec had tried to keep up with all the confusing sounding furnishings, nodding along and chuckling fondly, falling deeper and deeper in love with every passing second.
As Alec emerges into the bathroom, his reflection in one of the outlandish mirrors catches his eye for a startling moment. And usually Alec never feels comfortable with staring at his own face for more than a handful of seconds, always too painfully self conscious and overly aware of his multitude flaws.
(Which is when he really starts to question why Magnus choose him- ordinary, monotonous Alec- when he could’ve had his pick of all manner of exotic, ethereal creatures and humans alike.)
But even Alec can’t miss the blooming swell of crimson and violet splotched across the hinge of his jaw as it reflects distinctly back at him. The bruise doesn’t feel tender or sore, merely a nuisance niggling away at him, and Alec internally curses his parabatai for dragging him out on such a futile mission, as it was simply an ego boosting endeavour for Jace to blow off some steam.
Alec rapidly undresses, tearing away layer after layer of grimy, sweat soaked material before he steps into the shower, an elaborately luxurious walk in shower of course, hissing faintly as his bare feet come into contact with the icy floor. With some difficulty, (normally Magnus is here showering with him), Alec manages to conduct the orchestra of various knobs and buttons correctly, coaxing a fast, pounding stream of water from shower head, as it begins to shroud the entire bathroom in a billowing cloud of steam. The lashings of water beat down onto Alec’s skin, a steady thump, thump, thump that relaxes the whirring thoughts thundering around in his head and aids to relieve his bone-deep exhaustion. It’s thoroughly blissful; a mind-numbingly perfect escape from the outside world and Alec allows the sweltering torrent to cascade over him with a muted smile tugging at his mouth.
After a few minutes of stillness and serenity, Alec begins to lather himself in an expensive looking bottle of citrusy body wash that he’s certain is Magnus’ favourite, as whenever Alec decides to use that particular fragrance, Magnus seems unable to contain his urge to plaster himself along the Shadowhunter’s back, burying his nose into Alec’s neck and inhaling deeply. Something about the fresh scent never fails to get Magnus delightfully worked up, or perhaps it’s just the mere thought of Alec foaming up his naked body with Magnus’ own products that leaves the warlock thrumming with eager arousal, like he’s claiming Alec as his. That burning thought sends a thrilling ripple of lust down Alec’s spine, and his cock stirs avidly but he isn’t willing to work a deft hand over his length to get himself off alone, he wants to wait for Magnus to get home first.
Thus, once the slippery, green liquid turns rich and frothy, the intense aroma of lime overpowering his senses, Alec hastily washes away the soap and shuts the shower off before his skin begins to crease and wrinkle. Drying himself off with one of Magnus’ plush towels, Alec wanders into their bedroom, rifling through his own drawer until he locates a pair of comfortable pyjamas, something simple to laze around in for a while until Magnus returns. He tosses his grubby, sodden clothes and used towel into the hamper in the far corner of the room, making a quick mental reminder to do the laundry in the morning.
Alec halts beside the foot of the bed, peering around the room with vague uncertainty, wondering what he should do to pass the time, yet the idea of watching TV by himself in the large, open expansion of living room seems exceedingly unappealing right now, he longs for the intimacy and comfort that being with Magnus constantly gives him.
Instead, Alec clambers onto the impressive mountain of throws and blankets on the bed, flopping face first into the sponginess of the pillows, situating himself until he’s finally comfortable and his eyelids waver heavily before closing. Pleasantly relaxed and snug, surrounded entirely by Magnus’ rich, earthy scent, Alec hadn’t planned on dozing off but he’s powerless to stop it from happening.
Soft fingers skim lightly over his temples, down the bridge of his nose, across the curve of his bottom lip and Alec can’t quite grasp if he’s awake yet or floating in the hazy, illusive state between sleep and consciousness. A gathering of gentle kisses dot over the same trails as before; attentive, feathery brushes of damp lips as Magnus hums happily into Alec’s sleep-caressed skin. His eyes blink open slowly, revealing his most favourite sight in the world- his gorgeous, radiant Magnus, curled into the heat of his side, running adoring hands up and down Alec’s back.
“Well, hello there, Sleeping Beauty,” Magnus beams, the hushed fondness in his words enkindles tremendous warmth inside Alec’s soul.
“Hey, babe,” Alec murmurs quietly, voice still husky from his slumber.
“You’re hurt, darling. What happened?” Magnus queries, thumbing the skin underneath Alec’s subdued bruise gently, his eyes creased with blatant agitation and concern.
“I’m fine, honestly. Jace and I had a run in with a few lesser demons,” Alec explains, wanting to ease his boyfriend’s increasing panic. “We killed them easily, Magnus. Don’t worry.”
Magnus frowns, sincerely upset, but he leans forward with avid determination, placing the most delicate, loving kiss Alec has ever experienced over the bruise, and his cheek tingles pleasantly as Magnus’ healing magic sings through his veins. Alec smiles gratefully in return and whispers I love you with profound, overwhelming adoration that he feels with every fibre in his being.
They begin to converse in softened tones about Magnus’ meeting and Alec grumbles disgruntled about his mission, until a soothing state of tranquillity settles over the room. And Alec cherishes how irrefutably comfortable they are in each other’s company, that they don’t always need to fill the easy silences with mindless chatter.
Soon the decadent indigos and lavenders of the slumbering night sky spill in through the curtains as the moon gleams vividly, bewitching and calm, stray beams of light illuminating Magnus’ face and Alec’s breath hitches in his throat at the exquisite vision. A glazing of charcoal glitter is smudged across the warlock’s eyelids, tapering off into a precise point; those high, cutting cheekbones are dusted in what looks to Alec like golden star dust and his lips are painted glossy and plush. Magnus looks otherworldly, strikingly beautiful, almost as if he doesn’t belong somewhere as dreary and ordinary as earth, but would fit in perfectly residing alongside the Angel Raziel, Alec surmises with unyielding belief.
Endless minutes have tricked by, unassuming and neglected by both men, as they dwell on the huge, lavish bed, bodies woven together like the intricate lace of a web, their content gazes never truly leaving one another. Simply staring, peaceful and comfortable, and Alec doesn’t feel vulnerable or exposed like this, instead he knows he is safe and protected in Magnus’ presence, his hands, his heart. It’s numbingly serene, and Alec feels like he’s floating on an expansion of mild, lulling water, weightless and utterly content.
Soon enough, the stillness shifts as a hushed, soft grin tugs at the corners of Magnus’ mouth, cheeks pushing upwards with bright happiness and his eyes crinkle with dazzling affection. A breathy, delicate laugh bubbles past the seam of his lips, the sound is charmingly contagious and Alec can’t help but join in with the radiance and infectiousness of the noise. Magnus is always able to bring out the playful side of Alec; he does so effortlessly, naturally, like the most imperative thing in his life is making sure Alec is buzzing with happiness no matter what. And Alec loves his wonderful warlock, loves him with everything that he is and more.
Their mouths gradually gravitate towards each other; Magnus’ lips are slightly slick, velvety and ever so pliant under Alec’s, allowing the Shadowhunter to take control of the kiss and influence the pace determining the rest of the night. Alec parts his lips, breath stuttering out and ghosting over Magnus’ keen mouth, before he winds his hand around Magnus’ neck, tugging him closer, closer, and slides their tongues together. It’s all yearning nibbles, slurping and devouring, simmering fires rising and intensifying.
Alec can detect the hint of intoxicating cranberry and vodka Magnus must’ve been savouring before, tracing his tongue along the roof of the warlock’s mouth and flicking behind his teeth. Magnus shivers subtly in response, the tremors rolling through Alec too, bodies entangled tightly, all smouldering heat and urgency. He secures Magnus’ hip in a large, warm grip, pushing the tips of his fingers into the supple flesh, leaving behind white indents from the biting pressure and Magnus arches beautifully into Alec’ chest.
“Alexander!” Magnus gasps, his eyes wide and alight with arousal, but Alec swallows the breathless sound with an overexcited mouth.
The embrace morphs into electrifying and frenzied, needy fingers pull at sheer layers of clothing, fervid lips slick and slide, bite and tug, restless hips grind teasingly, unrelenting in search of more friction. Alec swiftly rolls on top of Magnus, despairingly craving more of his skin, his heat, his everything.
Crowding Magnus’ slight, lithe body into the contours of the mattress, Alec skirts his greedy mouth along the tendons of Magnus’ neck, drawing dainty shapes with quick flickers of his hot tongue, suckling desperately over his throbbing pulse point. A flash of teeth dig harsh and demanding into Magnus’ bottom lip, a muted whine falls soft and inviting from his mouth and Alec applies increased pressure to the sensitive, abused slither of skin worn over Magnus’ pulse, beating in frantic tandem with Alec’s own heart.
Alec begins to peel Magus’ shirt up and off of his chiselled, sweat speckled torso with deft fingers, he tosses the garment onto the floor, silently hoping it isn’t one of Magnus’ most beloved or expensive pieces, but the warlock doesn’t appear offended, as a look of unadulterated desire colours his face. Alec engulfs one of Magnus’ nipples with the slick heat of his mouth, rolling the pebbled flesh between blunt teeth and gives a gentle tug that extracts a stunning, high pitched moan from Magnus’ throat. He grazes further smears of gleaming salvia down Magnus’ abs, brands the fire on his tongue over the indents of those alluring hips, humming over Magnus’ skin like a prayer.
Unbuttoning Magnus’ sinfully snug jeans, the ones that cling gloriously to the muscles of his thighs like a second skin, Alec yanks them down the length of his legs with minor difficulty and finally discards them somewhere across the room, untamed urgency vibrating in his fingertips. Magnus’ underwear rapidly follows his jeans, his thick, flushed cock smacks wetly against his stomach with an audible thwack that has Alec’s mouth watering and sends blazing heat raging up his spine. With a definitive, instantaneous snap of his fingers, glimmers of blue flash strikingly against the dark backdrop of night, Magnus rids Alec of all his clothing, his wanton whine trembling low in his throat as his eyes rake appreciatively up and down Alec’s bare skin.
Alec captures the defined line of Magnus’ jaw between eager yet clumsy fingers, tilting his face upwards as they gasp into each other’s mouths, exchanging fevered gusts of breath. Magnus seizes the swollen flesh of Alec’s bottom lip with gentle teeth nipping gingerly, suckling with avid hunger and Alec’s groan resonates loud and clear throughout the room. By the angel, he wants this man desperately; his need has become a physical ache, pulsating through his nerve endings and coiling strictly around his burning muscles.
Their harsh pants echo noisily off of the walls as Alec clasps Magnus’ cock in a solid grip, rigid and ruthless, tugging at the heated length languidly, dragging the calloused texture of his palm over the flesh and a stream of winded curses tumble from Magnus’ lips. The warlock tries to strain his neck back against the pillows but Alec’s fingers clench around his jaw, locking him in place, their gazes trained solely on each other, concentrated and fierce, and Alec feels like he’s staring straight into Magnus’ soul. He’s momentarily stupefied by the immense fondness, the pure, undiluted love overflowing in Magnus’ eyes, luminous and clear, and Alec has to will everything inside him to suppress the sob lodged in his throat.
“Alexander, darling, please,” Magnus begs, writhing gently under Alec’s hands.
“What do you want, baby?” he asks, voice deep and gravely. “Tell me what you need.”
“I want you to sit on my face,” Magnus starts, a little breathless with explicit arousal. “I want you to grind your beautiful ass on my mouth as I lick you open.”
It should sound obscene, the way Magnus is coarse and blunt with his desires, but Alec trembles giddily at the low, husky pitch ringing in Magnus’ voice, blistering and impassioned, licking flames through his veins. It’s something they’ve done a handful of times in the past, each time Alec’s orgasm is devastatingly intense and he always comes harder than he ever has before.
Magnus encloses swift fingers around Alec’s wrist, quietly drawing him closer, and Alec scoots further up Magnus’ body on unsteady limbs quivering with zealous anticipation until his thighs bracket the warlock’s flushed face.
Magnus situates himself perfectly underneath Alec’s waiting hole- twitching with willing expectation- as those strong hands spread Alec’s cheeks apart, and he arches his spine desperately when a steady stream of air gusts over the puckered muscle. Magnus is utterly magical with his mouth. Sloppy yet divine flickers of his tongue, skilfully using the fervid tip to streak patterns of saliva around Alec’s rim, sucking lewd and wet at his hole until he’s dripping. A warm, tender kiss follows, a stunning contrast to the unrestrained, filthy brushes of Magnus’ tongue and a delicious tremor ripples through Alec’s feverish body. It’s mind-numbingly exquisite, overwhelming, paralysing Alec with furious, blatant need.
Gnawing his lips raw with ardent greed, Alec gapes at the blazing wonderment and all-consuming desire alighting Magnus’ eyes as they stare back at him just as fiercely, feasting on every tremor that racks Alec’s body. His own eyes soon flutter closed, overcome with so many extraordinary emotions and Alec feels like the heat inside him is expanding, blooming brightly like a daffodil in the midst of spring. And Magnus is earnest and focused on massaging his tongue over Alec’s rim, the tip probing into his hole wickedly, jarring every nerve, every fibre in Alec’s body.
The Shadowhunter hisses through tightly clenched teeth, anchoring himself onto the headboard with pressing urgency, pins and needles purring in his fingertips and thighs shaking wildly. That unremitting, masterful mouth groans, vehement and guttural, resonating over Alec’s hole and the sound throbs through his bones like an electric current. He gasps harshly, his throat and lungs rough with friction, constricting and suffocating with delirious lust. Magnus yanks at Alec’s hips with demanding fingers, pulling him even closer, almost impossibly so, until Alec is seated firmly on the warlock’s mouth. And he is powerless to quash the aching moan wrenched from somewhere deep inside his core, grinding his ass recklessly over Magnus’ tongue, craving more, more, more.
“Magnus, fuck-“Alec heaves hysterically, his words drowned out by his filthy whimpers.
A fevered shade of crimson prickles along Alec’s skin, scorching hot blood gushing south to his cock as it continues to stiffen, heavy and rigid like an iron rod, and he oozes a ceaseless surge of precome all over Magnus’ face. Although Magnus pays no attention to this, his concentration wholly absorbed by licking Alec open wet and loose.
There’s a muffled sound of shameless, yearning hunger spilling from Magnus’ lips, he kneads possessively at Alec’s hips, singeing his fingerprints into the skin, hauling the Shadowhunter down with endless insistence. Alec feels inebriated; the onslaught of devastating pleasure clouds his head, dizzying his senses until all he knows is the desirous tongue coaxing him open in this unfaltering rhythm.
“So close,” Alec gasps, barely able to string together a full, coherent sentence.
With unexpected and alarming speed, Magnus flips them over with a flicker of his magic, and the air whooshes out of Alec’s lungs as he lands gracefully onto his back, blinking with wide, dazed eyes up at Magnus, momentarily disorientated with the change of positions. And before Alec can even begin to catch his breath, Magnus has already coated his fingers with a fine sheen of lube and he smirks down at Alec, charmingly smug.
“You’re going to come from my cock, sweetheart,” Magnus mumbles heatedly into Alec’s lax, gaping mouth.
A solitary finger, gleaming faintly under the subdued lighting of the room, eases into Alec with forgiving gentleness; the cool slick of the lube soothes the aching fire raging on inside him. Magnus allows Alec a merciful moment to adjust to the intrusion, to relax around the throbbing stretch, before he crooks his finger just right to drag teasingly over Alec’s prostate. His own wrecked, rasping moan is licked straight off of his tongue, the air sucked right out of his lungs, and Alec is utterly consumed by Magnus. It’s heady, invigorating, and Alec wouldn’t have it any other way.
Head hazy with potent lust, Alec barely notices the leaking cock rubbing furiously against the smooth line of his hip, and he wants to help relieve some of Magnus’ feverish desperation, yearns to tug and pull at the pulsing length, but his limbs are uncooperative, clumsy. Instead, Magnus soon adds a second finger into the tight heat, his pace rapidly increasing with vibrant need and Alec thrusts upwards, higher, faster, to meet the heavenly push of those dexterous fingers.
“Nngh,” Alec exhales, raking fanatical, rosy tracks down the defined muscles of Magnus’ back. “So good- yeah right there! Fuck, I need more, Magnus.” And he couldn’t care less about how wanton he sounds; he’s positively delirious by now.
Magnus plunges his two digits deeper in answer, curling them into a come hither motion that has Alec’s spine bowing sharply, almost breaking in half with severe force as he swallows around a resonant groan, a chorus of please, yes, ah weighing thick on his tongue. That unrelenting thumb sweeps trails of incandescent pleasure around Alec’s loose, quivering rim, and Magnus exhales shakily, breath stuttering over Alec’s slack lips, as if he’s the one with two fingers buried in his ass, and he seals their mouths together. The kiss is beautifully sloppy, easy brushes of tongue, lingering nips with dull teeth and their synchronised sighs ring loud with contentment.
All too soon, Alec becomes fidgety with sweltering anticipation, unwavering arousal twines like branches around his muscles until his body feels entirely heavy, languid, and it’s all too much, he feels like weeping into the comforting stretch of Magnus’ chest.
Magnus shushes him softly- Alec hadn’t realised he was actually sobbing, meek and quiet whimpers cascading from his lips- so the warlock stamps adoring kisses along Alec’s neck, over his heart, whispering hushed endearments into his skin that alleviates some of the tension.
“My love, it’s okay,” Magnus murmurs, understanding and tender, skimming his fingertips lovingly over Alec’s face, across his cheekbones, smudging under his eye. “I’m gonna fuck you now, darling.”
Alec nods frantically, gripping onto Magnus’ shoulders with manic desperation, as the warlock wraps long fingers around his own cock loosely, smearing a lustrous ring of precome around Alec’s rim with the tip, before he pushes the head past the taut muscle, slowly, carefully, like he fears Alec might shatter into pieces if he rushes this. The stretch is gradual, an addictive, spine trembling burn that ignites a dizzying flicker of flames in the pit of Alec’s stomach, a torrent of arousal bursting through his body with irrepressible intensity. Magnus’ dick edges further and further inside, as both men flush from head to toe, skin bright and ruddy, rivulets of sweat trickling down their heaving chests.
When Magnus is buried firmly in Alec’s ass, every glorious, thick inch enveloped in tight, scorching heat, Alec stammers over a wrecked moan, he feels staggeringly split open, ripped apart at the seams. And yet it’s utterly divine, a pleasurable ache simmering between his thighs and it’s a sensation Alec craves constantly.
“Christ, you’re amazing, Alexander,” Magnus slurs dark and damp into Alec’s skin. “So tight, so good for me.”
Ravenous teeth scrape teasingly down Alec’s neck, quick nips digging into his flesh, and he arches into a stiff curve, the sudden movement causing Magnus’ dick to slip impossibly deeper. Both men dissolve into shuddery groans, exhaling roughly through swollen, buzzing lips and Alec needs Magnus to move, to do something, before he vibrates out of his skin with frenzied desire.
Sensing his hysteria, Magnus drags his hips back with scarcely restrained enthusiasm, fingers searing white hot imprints into Alec’s skin as he slams forward, forcefully, vigorously, and Alec’s bones rattle with an electrifying jolt. Magnus repeats the action, over and over, powerful thrusts ramming wild and frantic into Alec, brazen arousal roaring brilliantly in his golden eyes. Alec attempts to match the ferocious rhythm, but he is completely engulfed by Magnus, caged in between strong, flexing biceps, pressed firmly into the sheets by a broad chest and all he’s able to do is flow with the force of the tide.
Alec whines, noisy and shameless, when a precise, brutal thrust strikes his prostate and Magnus grins, all radiant smugness at Alec’s response, before he continues to pound into him at the same heavenly angle, bruising the delicate bundle of nerves with deadly accuracy and fervour. Alec’s spurting an unfaltering stream of precome all over himself and Magnus, dotting the bed sheets a darker colour, as ivory and caramel skin glistens wetly. By the Angel, they are filthy but it’s absolutely perfect.
A thrilling shiver jars through Alec’s limbs, a cluster of yes, more, please flutters on his tongue but they die off into an abandoned whimper as Magnus seizes Alec’s dick in a deliciously rigid grip, jerking reckless tugs on the painfully hard length. It’s a merciless, scorching attack on his senses, on his body, and he can’t breathe through the overwhelming need, the devastating heat clenched like a vice around his throat. And Alec can taste the beginnings of his orgasm on the tip of his tongue.
Magnus’ sweet lips chase the ghostly slithers of moonlight dusted across Alec’s skin, the pace of his thrusts turning erratic, fatigue evident in his movements, and he’s endlessly tugging at Alec’s cock, squeezing tightly until Alec simply shatters.
Frenetic surges of fire burst through his veins, alighting every muscle and nerve ending in his body, that blinding, exhausting inferno engulfs Alec entirely and he feels like the whole world has gone up in flames around them. Thick, saturated webs of come shoot across his chest, tickling under his chin, and Alec wails, embarrassingly noisy, wave after wave of pleasure quivering through his limbs until the blood thundering in his ears drowns out every other sound in the room.
Alec can barely force his eyelids to stay open in order to see Magnus come, but when he does, it’s a beautifully euphoric sight to behold. The warlock throws his head back, mouth slack and gasping around a mesmerizingly wrecked moan, the sound ricocheting off the walls, and his cock seems to expand inside Alec, throbbing hotly as he spurts fat ropes of come into his ass.
Carefully, Magnus slips out and rolls off of Alec, his pliant, serene body spread starfish across the bed as he pulls Alec into his embrace with soft fingers and a tender smile colouring his face. Alec spares a glance at their entwined bodies and notices the heated crimson stains, from eager lips and dull nails, scattered across their skin, a striking contrast against the runes that mark Alec in black. And he loves the promise of those imprints of passion, the feverish, possessive secrets they hold.
Alec nuzzles his head in the gentle slope between Magnus’ neck and shoulder, lacing his fingers into the gaps between Magnus’ as the warlock presses warm kisses across his forehead. And this is the part that Alec loves more than anything, this blissful, undisturbed tranquillity, their mellow synchronised breathing, and their bodies entangled perfectly, utterly at peace.