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Office Hours

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Alec might have a small crush. That isn’t actually all that small. In fact, it’s pretty big. Ginormous. It might be all Alec can think about.

Professor Bane.

“Alexander?”

Alec’s a little too distracted with the way Professor Bane’s lips are moving to pay attention to the words. He flounders, looks down at his notes and realises he hasn’t written any. They’re thirty minutes into this lecture and Alec has no idea what it’s about. And now the Professor is asking him a question and all Alec can do is give an apologetic shrug.

Professor Bane shakes his head, Alec thinks it’s in disappointment, before addressing the rest of the room.

“Can anyone help Mr Lightwood out?”

Maia raises her hand and Alec slides further down in his seat, wishing the ground would just open up and swallow him.

Alexander. Alec’s always hated his full name, but the way it rolls off his Professor’s lips is sinful. Or to Alec it is. It shouldn’t be. Still, Alec might have that soundbite stored away in his memory.

The thing is Alec tries to concentrate, he really wants to ace this class, if only to impress his crush. No, actually he really needs to pass this class. But then the lecture always starts and Alec just gets lost in the sultry tones of his professor’s voice. Alec never thought someone could make history this exciting for him. He really only took the class to make up some credits and now it turns out he’s probably going to fail.

Alec packs away his things when the lecture winds down and begins to shuffle out with the rest of the class.

“Mr Lightwood,” comes his professor’s voice over the hubbub of students.

Wonderful, Alec thinks, he really doesn’t need to be reprimanded as well right now.

“Can I have a word?”

“Sure Professor.”

“Please. I’m not some stuffy fifty-year-old yet. It’s Magnus.”

Magnus. Alec knows his professor’s name, he possibly looked it up one time. Plus, a stuffy fifty-year-old Magnus absolutely isn’t. Alec isn’t sure what he expected his history Professor to be like, but this. Young, attractive, funny as hell, is definitely not it. It does give Alec a moments pause because Magnus can only have a few years on him.

“I can tell you’re having difficulty with this class.”

Shit.

“I’ve spoken to your other professors and you don’t seem to be having any problems.” Magnus perches on the edge of his desk, hands clasped together, an expectant smile on his face and he asks, “So how can I help you?”

Magnus wants to help Alec? Could he maybe not wear a shirt as fitted to their next class then, because Alec’s been enamoured with the way it moulds itself to Magnus’ body all lecture. Alec can’t really say that though can he? He can’t say: I’m trying but every time I look at you I get so distracted I can’t even remember my own name.

Instead, he shifts awkwardly on the balls of his feet, scratches the hair at the back of his head and tries to think of something.

“I just,” Alec can’t look at Magnus. He really needs to stop thinking of him as Magnus and go back to using Professor, because it’s just too familiar. “It’s taking me a little longer to get it.”

That’s not the truth, but it’s not really a lie either.

Magnus. No. Professor Bane places a hand on Alec’s arm. It’s supposed to be reassuring.

“If you need me to talk through some topics with you, please, use my office hours. I’m here to help.”

Alec stutters out a thank you, a yeah sure, and somehow manages to flee.

But the thought of those office hours is a temptation.