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“Darling,” Magnus purrs, rasping his knuckles against the bathroom door, “I’m sure you look ravishing.”

“I do not,” Alec’s voice drips with irritation and the Warlock can hear him muttering about Why is this shirt so damn tight?, “No one will take me seriously with all of this glitter in my hair.”

The immortal chuckles in response and rests his hand on the handle of the oak door separating him and his lovely Shadowhunter. “You’re too self-conscious, cantik.”


“It means beautiful, darling.”

The Warlock can practically hear the embarrassment in the younger boy’s voice as he exclaims, “I am not beautiful!” A pause. “You call girls beautiful. Men are supposed to be handsome.”

“Would you rather I call you handsome then?”

The door opens, and if Magnus hadn’t sensed his love on the other side, he would have gotten smacked in the face with it. That would have ended badly, he thinks with amusement, my makeup would have been ruined if that door hit its intended target.

“I would rather you speak like a normal person.” Alec mutters with a roll of those gorgeous blue eyes of his. No person, no matter their race, should have eyes that are that-- “Magnus, are you listening to me?”

“Hm?” The Warlock gives the younger a curious look. “Did you say something, darling?”

The Shadowhunter groans and presses his palm against his forehead, an irritated expression marring his face. “I was saying that I rather you speak like a normal person, but I can see that’s not going to happen.”

Magnus’ eyes glint as a catlike grin spreads across his face. He takes in the light blue shirt with a hint of sparkles, the skin tight leather grasping the Shadowhunter in all the right places, the eyeliner that brings out his eyes, the slight sprinkle of glitter in his hair, and whistles. “To think, you were against dressing up.” He drops a glittery wink at his flushed boyfriend. “You look fabulous, almost as fabulous as I am.”

The pink that stains Alec’s cheeks turns to a light red and he looks at his hands, teeth chewing on his bottom lip a bit. “These clothes feel weird,” he says after a minute of silence, tugging at the collar of his shirt.

“Yes, well, I suppose they would to someone who’s used to holey jeans and black sweaters,” the Warlock murmurs in a teasing tone. He saunters over to the Shadowhunter, placing a loving kiss against Alec’s cheek. “but I still stand by when I say you look fabulous.”

Alec lets out an amused sigh that’s tinged with a hint of embarrassment before he rests his head against Magnus’ chest. “Don’t expect me to do this again,” he says, his voice barely above a whisper, “You’re lucky I did it once.”

“I know that, darling.” Magnus answers, wrapping his arms around the Shadowhunter. “Once was enough.”