Work Text:
It was lucky Alec didn’t know what Jace and Clary were up to that night, or he would have insisted on going with them when they faced Valentine and freed an angel. And if he’d known what was happening with Isabelle, he never would have left her side when she was battling her yin fen addiction and gave in to temptation. But in the end, everything turned out well. No one was lost, no one broken. And Alec didn’t have to regret that he hadn’t been there. Instead, he had spent the night in Magnus’s arms — the best night of his life.
Sometimes Alec wondered what it was about Magnus Bane that had caught him so completely. He was unlike anyone Alec had ever met, be it Shadowhunter, mundane or Downworlder. Not that Alec had truly known many Downworlders before, but Magnus was different even among them. Flamboyant. Exasperating. Infuriatingly handsome. Always so confident, so maddeningly in control. And very set on winning Alec over. Alec had wanted to run from that at first. And yet every time Magnus walked into a room, Alec’s breath caught. He wanted to be closer. To feel the warmth, the pull, the impossible gravity of him, just as the warlock had told him.
It had never been that way before. Not even with Jace. Jace was comfort, loyalty, a bond carved into his soul — but never such longing, not like it was now. With Magnus, Alec wanted to know what his lips tasted like, whether his hair was as soft as it looked, what it would be like to be seen and wanted by the warlock in return. He had buried those thoughts, told himself he couldn’t want them, as he always had during his whole adolescence. Family, duty, tradition — all walls he had never believed he could climb.
And then came his wedding day. Standing at the altar, Lydia at his side, Alec had been ready to accept the rune. Ready to bind himself to someone he didn’t — and never would — love. And then Magnus walked into the room. He didn’t laugh, didn’t tease, didn’t throw a spark of magic his way. He just stood there. Waiting. And Alec, breathless all over again, finally chose to follow his gut. To follow his heart. Walking to Magnus and kissing him hadn’t been a rebellion. It had been the most natural thing in the world.
The road after that hadn’t been easy — his parents’ anger, the whispers, the backlash. But Alec hadn’t regretted it. Not for a second. Because it had led him here: into Magnus’s arms, into something real, fragile, and stronger than anything he had ever known. Being with Magnus felt good. Not just because the warlock opened doors – or rather portals - to exciting, unknown places, or the spark of magic that followed the warlock wherever he went, but because of him. Alec loved spending time with him, talking about things he’d never shared with anyone else. Magnus made him laugh. And more than that, he liked the way Magnus looked at him—as if he were someone special, as if he mattered. That was new, and it meant everything. It still didn’t explain how he’d fallen for someone as impossible as Magnus Bane in the first place. But one thing was certain: he wanted more. With him.
He enjoyed kissing Magnus. He had never kissed anyone else before (family kisses didn’t count), and from the very first moment, it had felt so unbelievably good. For a while, the kisses had been enough. But not anymore. Alec wanted more. He wanted all of Magnus.
He had expected Magnus to make the first move. But Magnus had been patient, endlessly patient, sensing Alec wasn’t ready yet. Other people might have teased him about his lack of experience. Magnus never did. Just as he never once flaunted the details of his approximately seventeen thousand lovers. Alec had the feeling Magnus was exaggerating that number the same way he did with his name-dropping. Still, Alec didn’t want to picture what—or who—had come before. None of it mattered. In the here and now, Magnus wanted him. Only him.
Alec could still hear Magnus’s voice from the day they had first met: “Pretty boy! Get your team ready!” At the time, everyone—including Alec—had thought Magnus was speaking to Jace. Magnus’s correction had made his chest tighten in a way he couldn’t explain. Magnus not only thought he was pretty; he saw him as a leader.
And Alec remembered another moment too. “You’ve unlocked something in me.” Magnus had said it with such quiet intensity, as if Alec had reached a part of him few other people ever had. That had meant more than any flirtation or compliment. It told Alec that Magnus wanted more than just his body.
Alec didn’t know Magnus Bane well yet. Not really. But he wanted to. He wanted to uncover the man behind the reputation, the one who didn’t give his heart easily. He wasn’t sure yet if he was in love with Magnus—he set that question aside for later. For now, the only thing he needed to know was whether he was ready for the next step.
And whether he was bold enough to make the first move.
So he went to Isabelle.
After all, his sister was far more experienced when it came to the physical side of love—especially with a Downworlder.
Isabelle had told him not to overthink it. At first, Alec had scoffed—he didn’t overthink. But then, under her raised eyebrow, he had admitted that maybe he did. And just like on his wedding day, and the moment he chose Magnus despite their differences, Alec decided to follow his heart. To do what he wanted—what he hoped Magnus wanted too.
He made his way to Magnus’s apartment, as he had so many times in the past weeks. It still felt strange to spend his free hours away from the Institute, away from training or sparring with Jace. Stranger still how little time he and his parabatai shared these days, even with Jace living in one of Magnus’s spare rooms. If Alec was honest, Jace’s presence often felt like an intrusion – even though he would have never told him. He savoured the rare, quiet moments he got with Magnus, moments that were theirs alone.
So he sent a silent prayer to the angels: let Jace be busy elsewhere—with elves, with anyone—just gone.
For once, the angels seemed to listen. Magnus was alone when Alec arrived.
Alec shoved every rational thought aside. Before he could second-guess anything, he surprised himself as well as the warlock when he nearly attacked Magnus with a passionate kiss. Only then did Alec realize he wasn’t the only one overthinking things.
“Hey, what’s this all about?” Magnus asked when he pulled back, breathless but still composed. “I mean, I’m not complaining, but…”
“I… I just thought… I thought… we could take the next step,” Alec managed, still dizzy from the kiss and his own boldness.
“The sex step,” Magnus replied, a knowing glint in his dark eyes.
“Yeah.” Alec’s throat went dry. He barely had time to steady himself before Magnus’s hand came to rest gently on his shoulder, grounding him.
“Alexander. I may be experienced… but it’s rare that I’ve ever felt this way about someone. I worry that once we…” Magnus’s voice softened as he turned away, “…that if we rush into this, that I may lose you.”
The sight of Magnus’s frown made Alec’s chest tighten. Lose me? The thought irritated him more than he expected.
“What? Why would you think that?” he demanded, moving closer, unwilling to let the distance remain.
Magnus hesitated, then met his gaze again. “Look. You’re not the only one who feels vulnerable.”
Alec couldn’t help the small, certain smile tugging at his lips. “Magnus.” His voice carried more confidence than he felt, but it was the truth. He stepped forward, pushing Magnus back—until, almost without realizing, they were at the threshold of Magnus’s bedroom. Strategic positioning for once worked in his favour.
“You have nothing to worry about,” Alec assured Magnus, catching hold of his shirt collar and pulling him in close. His voice dropped, steady and raw: “I want this.”
He pressed his mouth to Magnus’s again, and this time his lover didn’t hold back. All resistance melted into a kiss that was equal parts fire and surrender.
They stumbled into the bedroom, half-laughing, half-kissing, their hands fumbling at fabric as if every second was too precious to waste. Alec’s shoes went first, then his shirt and Magnus’s jacket; followed in a tug of limbs until they collapsed onto the bed in a breathless heap.
“That was graceful,” Magnus teased, Alec sprawled beneath him.
“Shadowhunter,” Alec shot back with a crooked grin before claiming another kiss. Sharing a bed with Magnus didn’t feel like shame or secrecy, as he had expected. It felt like pride. It felt right. But he had never thought he would be proud of his heritage in such a moment.
They kissed and touched with growing confidence. Alec dared to slip his hands under Magnus’s shirt, brushing warm skin, tracing the curve of his back. The sound Magnus made in response sent heat rushing through him. But suddenly the warlock pulled away, sitting upright at the edge of the bed. His fingers pressed hard against his eyes.
Alec blinked, startled by the abrupt distance. “Did I do something wrong?”, he asked a bit uncertain.
“No such thing,” Magnus murmured, though he didn’t turn back around.
“Do you not want to?” Alec asked, more uncertainty creeping into his voice. He wasn’t sure if he was more afraid of rejection or of hurting Magnus without meaning to.
“No. I mean, yes. Of course I do.” Magnus’s voice was low, hesitant, his back still to Alec.
Concern overcame desire. Alec shifted closer, placing a steadying hand on Magnus’s shoulder. “Magnus… what is it?”
Magnus drew in a shaky breath. “It’s just… sometimes I lose control.” Slowly, he turned, and when his eyes lifted to Alec’s, they weren’t the familiar dark brown anymore. They glowed gold, slit pupils like a cat’s — unmasked, unhidden.
For a heartbeat, fear hung heavy in the air as they just gazed in each other’s eyes. Fear that Alec might flinch, might pull away.
But Alec only smiled, gentle and certain. He lifted his hand to Magnus’s jaw, thumb brushing against his skin. “Magnus. They’re beautiful. You’re beautiful.”
Magnus’s lips slowly morphed into a faint smile of his own. He covered Alec’s hand with his own, holding it there as if anchoring himself to the truth of those words.
Slowly, Alec raised his other hand to cup Magnus’s face, drawing him into another tender kiss. Magnus answered without hesitation, letting Alec guide him back down into the sheets. He only pulled away long enough to shrug off his shirt, the fabric sliding to the floor.
Alec’s breath caught. His eyes roamed across smooth, caramel-toned skin stretched over lean muscle, the kind of body that seemed carved for both elegance and strength. Magnus didn’t train with weapons the way Shadowhunters did, he didn’t fight physically, yet he looked every bit as powerful. Maybe it stemmed from magic, maybe not—Alec realized he didn’t care.
Tentatively, he reached out, pausing until Magnus gave him a small, steady nod. Alec’s palm pressed against Magnus’s chest, feeling the warmth and the steady heartbeat beneath his fingers. Magnus let him explore, patient and quiet, as Alec traced lines across skin and muscle, then bent to press soft kisses along the same path. Each touch drew him deeper into this new, intoxicating world.
But when Magnus’s hand slipped to his chest in return, Alec stiffened. The sharp edge of insecurity cut through his desire. He was twenty-three years old and still a virgin. What could he possibly offer someone as experienced as Magnus Bane—a man who had admitted, with a casual shrug, to lovers spanning centuries, sexes and species?
Magnus sensed the shift instantly. “Hey,” he said softly, his voice pulling Alec back from the spiral. “Alexander—look at me.”
Their eyes met, and Magnus’s gaze was steady, grounding. “There’s only you and me in this bed. No one else. Forget the past and the future. Just… be here. With me. Right now.”
Alec let out a shaky breath that melted into relief. “Yeah,” he whispered, and surrendered to Magnus’s next kiss.
Magnus was right. There was no room here for parents, parabatai, the Clave, or seventeen thousand ghosts of lovers past. It was just them. And Alec would be damned if he let anything take away from the comfort—and the wonder—of this moment.
“Only we decide what’s wrong and what’s right,” Magnus continued, his voice low and steady. “I’m giving you permission to touch me however you want. If there’s something I don’t want, I’ll tell you. But I expect the same from you. Okay?”
“Okay.” Alec nodded, a little breathless. Magnus always had that effect on him.
Relief loosened his shoulders, and he allowed himself to let go. Magnus leaned in, covering him with kisses and feather-light touches. His lips lingered at the curve of Alec’s neck, tracing the deflect rune with reverence, before trailing downward in slow, deliberate exploration. Alec’s thoughts, usually so quick and relentless, quieted one by one until nothing remained but sensation.
He trusted Magnus completely. Trusted that every touch, every kiss was meant to please them both. If Magnus noticed Alec’s stillness, he gave no sign of frustration. On the contrary, he seemed content—almost indulgent—as he mapped Alec’s body with hands and mouth. His cat’s eyes glimmered, still present, and Alec took it as a sign of truth: Magnus wasn’t hiding himself and was just as much in the throes of passion as Alec was.
When heated fingertips began to trace patterns across his skin, followed by a teasing coolness from Magnus’s breath, Alec’s pulse stuttered. He hadn’t expected magic, but the added sensations only deepened the wonder. Even the brush of cool metal from Magnus’s rings or the faint drag of a necklace against his skin became part of it, a surprising pleasure he hadn’t known to anticipate. He discovered parts of his own body he had never thought twice about, now brought alive under Magnus’s touch.
There was a storm somewhere outside—he could hear the rumble of thunder—but the tempest inside him drowned it out. The world beyond Magnus’s lips, his hands, his body against Alec’s, might as well have ceased to exist.
Magnus was a passionate lover, but he was as attentive and tender as he was ardent. Alec had expected nothing less — and he wouldn’t have trusted Magnus otherwise. The experience gently dissolved whatever nerves remained; Alec surrendered to him without reservation, accepting each touch, even the most intimate, with a kind of surprised delight. There was no shame, no fear left — only joy. It wasn’t simply about losing his virginity; it was about being impossibly close to the man he cared for, about two people learning one another in the quiet, sacred space between heartbeats.
Later, panting softly and grinning, Alec lay curled in Magnus’s arms. Magnus pressed a feather-light kiss to his forehead and murmured, “Thank you. Thank you for trusting me to take care of you.”
“I will always trust you,” Alec answered, solemn and steady, folding in closer. “Always.” He wanted to thank Magnus in return—for treating him like something precious—but the words tangled in his throat. Instead, he pressed an intense kiss to the spot just above Magnus’s heart, hoping his lover would understand. The tender, amused chuckle that followed, and the way Magnus’s arms tightened around him, told Alec that he did.
Wrapped safely in Magnus’s arms, Alec finally let himself drift into the kind of peace he hadn’t believed was meant for him. Outside, the storm went on, but inside the apartment, there was only warmth, trust, and the steady rhythm of Magnus’s heartbeat.
