Sighing harshly in the dark, Magnus flops over on his back. He blinks up at the ceiling, eyes burning, annoyed.
He wiggles a little to a more comfortable position, pulling the blankets up to just under his chin. Less than a minute later, he’s kicking them back down to the foot of the bed and turning over to his side. Pillow folded between his arm and head, he resolutely closes his eyes and wills himself to fall asleep.
Almost immediately, though, he’s struck by the silence of the room. His breathing seems too loud in the darkness and he swears he can hear the drip of the faucet in the bathroom. He shuffles over to the other side of the bed, turning his face into the pillow that smells like their shampoo and tries to let it lull him to sleep.
It doesn't work. Magnus scoffs in the dark. When does it ever?
Goddamnit, Alexander, Magnus thinks before reaching over for his phone where it’s charging on the nightstand.
The glow sears into his retinas and sets him cursing again. It’s after midnight and he has a meeting with a group of High Warlocks in Canada bright and early tomorrow.
He does not have time for this.
Alec was out on patrol tonight. Magnus doesn’t know what the hell his husband was trying to prove after all these years, but every week he insisted on adding himself to the patrol rotation. It was only one night a week but it had quickly become the bane of Magnus’s sleep schedule.
It chaps his ass but it appears that Magnus can’t fall asleep without those adorable little snores he likes to tease Alec about so much.
It’s inane and completely ridiculous. Magnus has never had trouble sleeping without a partner. No, for centuries he’s prided himself on being able to sleep just fine on his own. He enjoyed having full access to his own fucking bed, being able to sprawl out without having to worry about being a blanket hog.
To his eternal ire, however, it looks like that’s come to a screeching halt. Every Thursday night, Magnus goes to bed and just lays there. He’s tried tea and warm milk-- which was a goddamn disgrace of a beverage, he thinks with a grimace. He’s tried bedtime yoga and reading before bed and he’d even gotten a white noise machine a few months ago, all to no avail.
No, it looks like Magnus just can’t fall asleep without Alec. Well, he can, it just won’t be until the middle of the night, far closer to dawn than dusk.
Privately, Magnus has seethed at the prospect of Alec ruining him for anyone else. Oh, he thinks with a wry twist of his mouth. If only people could see how low he’s sunk. The fucking High Warlock of Brooklyn, unable to fall asleep unless he’s wrapped around his husband, whose snores sound like a goddamn generator ringing in his ears.
It’s soothing, the weight of Alec over him, around him, his warmth seeping into Magnus. Oh, Magnus likes to complain about Alec’s icy feet and that he is an unrepentant blanket hog but he loves it. He can’t think of a better way to wake up than with cold ankles and Alec’s nose against his throat, hand buried between him and the mattress.
Sitting up, Magnus rakes a hand through his hair before he stands and reaches for the robe draped over his chaise.
Throwing the robe on haphazardly, Magnus makes his way out of the bedroom, flipping on the hallway light as he goes to the kitchen.
He hums a little to himself as he brews a pot of tea. The kitchen fills with the scent of Chamomile and he pours a mug, adding a dollop of honey. Taking his cup, Magnus walks over to the living room until he’s standing in front of the french doors.
Looking out at a dark New York City, he marvels for the thousandth time at the way his life’s turned out. He’s been married to Alec for five years next month and he still finds it hard to believe that they’ve made it through everything.
Bringing his cup up to his mouth, Magnus blows across the surface to cool it before taking a sip. His eyes catch on the dull glint of his ring and he sighs a little, this time content.
There are worse things than waiting for Alec to come home in one piece, after all.
He watches the sky, wonders how long it will be before Alec will come stumbling into the loft. Turning on the scene in front of him, the couch beckons and so Magnus heads over and sits in the corner, drawing his legs up as he reaches for a book on the coffee table and flipping through it absently.
He realizes soon enough that it's one of Alec’s and Magnus is just about to set it back down-- he lived through Shakespeare when the Bard was alive, thank you very much, and he does not need a repeat-- when a note scrawled in the margin makes him stop.
Show Magnus this next date night-- add flowers?
Heart warming, Magnus skims over the passage in question. His chest aches at the sonnet. It’s something frilly and sweet, the language overwhelming. Magnus can appreciate the sentiment even if there’s no love lost for the author.
And so, Magnus passes the next hour flipping through pages. He skims through writing he knows by heart and stills every time he sees a note in the margin. It’s just like Alec to do this, to read something so romantic-- downright sappy-- and come to Magnus later, reciting words with a soft voice and dark, earnest eyes.
Magnus will never understand Alec’s streak of whimsy but he’s long ago learned to accept it and the truth is, he revels in Alec’s mile wide romantic streak.
His head is just drooping, sleep threatening to pull him under, when he feels the wards come to attention. He feels Alec’s presence, always so steady and steadfast, as he steps out of the elevator. It’s just a second later that the door to their loft is swinging open.
Alec’s shoulders are hunched in exhaustion but he looks up as he toes off his boots, pulling his quiver over his head to rest against the wall under the coat rack.
“Hey,” he says, face breaking into a soft smile. “What’re you doing up? It’s after two.”
Magnus just shrugs and echoes Alec’s smile. “What can I say? The bed feels too empty without you.”
He sees the way his husband rolls his eyes, though he also detects the faint flush and pleased smile that betrays Alec’s far from annoyed.
“Come on, then,” Alec says gruffly, walking over to where he’s still sitting on the couch. He holds a hand out before continuing, “You look two seconds from passing out and I know I can’t wait to collapse into bed.”
Letting his hand fall into Alec’s, Magnus stands, hiding a yawn in his other. “Lead the way, darling,” he says lowly.
It’s only now that Alec’s home, safe and sound and within reach that Magnus can fully relax and the weight of exhaustion threatens to pull him under. He follows Alec to their bedroom where, to his bemusement, he’s taken right to his side of the bed and urged to lay down.
Magnus climbs under the covers and looks up at Alec, eyes laughing. “Join me?”
Laughing a little, Alec just leans over him and plants a quick kiss on his mouth before straightening.
His voice is a touch hoarse as he replies, “Yeah, babe, just give me a minute to grab a quick shower and then I’m all yours.”
The words wrap around Magnus and he curls into their warmth. His eyes close without his knowing as he turns his head away from the light that shines through the open door.
“Hurry then, Alexander,” he murmurs. “You know how I hate to be kept waiting.”
He thinks he hears Alec laugh again but he’s halfway asleep and just knowing that Alec’s so close is doing wonders for his ability to sleep. Turning over to his stomach, Magnus smashes his face into a pillow and keeps an ear out for sounds of Alec’s progress. He hears the water turn on and Alec curse as he-- from the sounds of things-- knocks over a whole shelf of toiletries. He can just barely make out his husband singing, horribly off tune, to a Top 40 hit that’s been on the radio for the past few weeks and finally, finally, the water’s shutting off.
It’s just a few minutes later that the door to the bathroom is opening, though Alec must’ve already turned the light out since he doesn’t flinch from a bright light.
Soon enough, Magnus feels the bed dip as Alec climbs in and almost immediately, he’s sliding over and resting his head over Alec’s heart.
He hums in the dark and turns boneless.
“Perfect,” Magnus whispers, wrapping an arm around his husband's middle and hugging him imperceptibly closer.
He feels Alec sweep a hand down his back to rest low on his hip before kissing the top of his head.
“Love you,” Alec says, pulling the blankets up a little to cover them better.
“I love you, too, darling.”
He feels the steady beat of Alec’s heart but while sleep drags him down, Magnus waits. Just for a few minutes, at most, before he hears it.
Alec starts snoring and the sound wraps itself around his heart and squeezes his chest. It’s undoubtedly strange and unexpected but Magnus and Alec rarely spend a night apart. They’ve both made it a priority to end the day together and are almost zealous about preserving the tradition. That’s not to say that work doesn’t occasionally pop up or that they go to bed together every night but most of the time, their respective days end just like this-- wrapped around each other with Alec filling the silence, chasing away the shadows with his warmth and, yes, his adorable little snores.
They sound like comfort and safety and security.
They sound like home.