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“There’s always time for indulgence, Alexander,” Magnus purrs in Alec’s ear as he sets a heaping plate in front of Alec.

It’s a Thursday and Magnus has made pancakes for breakfast. Blueberry with fresh whipping cream and slices of strawberry on the side.

But it’s Magnus himself who holds all of Alec’s attention.

There are beams of sunshine cascading through the windows of Magnus’ loft, illuminating flecks of dust that dance around Magnus’ graceful movements as he slides into the chair next to Alec.

Magnus wears one ring—an ornate gold band set with a rectangular cut tanzanite—which Alec picked out on a whim when he was on a mission. It’s the only piece of jewelry Magnus never takes off.

The facets of the blue gemstone catch the light as Magnus waves his hand. He’s speaking about strategy and plans—things Alec doesn’t want to think about right now. Plops of whipping cream drop from the fork Magnus is loosely holding between his fingers.

But Magnus is oblivious to the mess he’s making. His cat eyes focus solely on Alec.

Alec deftly sweeps the topping off the table, and leans forward to place a kiss on Magnus’ cheek. “I have to go now.”

He tries to stand, but Magnus tangles his hands in Alec’s shirt and pulls Alec onto his lap. Magnus’ hands delve under the hem of Alec’s shirt, and he whispers in Alec’s ear, begging him to stay for just five—“Okay, maybe ten”—more minutes.

Alec holds back a smirk.

“We’re at war,” Alec reminds him.

“Better that we go into battle stress-free then,” Magnus says as his hands grip Alec’s hips.

“Another indulgence?” Alec asks.

Magnus’ lips are sweet, his hands warm. The press of his fingers insistent.

So, of course, Alec stays.

It’s the only decision that day he doesn’t regret.