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Magnus could have been anywhere else this Christmas. He could have gone to Winter Wonderland in London, or to literally any other country in Europe that has beautiful displays of Christmas lights and traditional food. He could have gone somewhere else entirely, enjoyed the Christmas time while lounging on the beach in the southern hemisphere.
Instead, he is in New York. And not even in Times Square or anything impressive like that. He is at his club in Brooklyn, which, even though he had made sure to have festive decorations put up, felt like not enough.
He is well aware why he needed to be there. There have been rumors about ex Circle members coming out of hiding again and if that was the case, Magnus doesn't know when one of them might target his estate. Pandemonium is an establishment Magnus takes pride in, a place where Downworlders can have fun and feel safe, and he knows that if the Circle was ever thirsty for blood again, that would be one of their first stops to find many Downworlders in one place.
Nevertheless, if he had gone anywhere he would only be a Portal away, considering he is after all the High Warlock and able to travel back and forth with ease should anything happen. But there is something else keeping him in New York that night, something Magnus can't quite decipher but that he can't really fight.
He is enjoying his margarita at the bar when a fire message appears in front of him. A picture of his good friend Ragnor Fell in front of the London Eye, gorgeous lights all around him, with the message ‘Wish you would come visit more than once every few decades.’
Magnus shakes his head and puts the picture down on the bar as he takes another sip of his drink.
He sits there, thoughtful for a moment, until he realizes something is off. Along with the loud music, up until a moment ago, he had been able to hear a lot of lively chatting and flirting and mingling. But now it has all died down.
As he starts turning around to check for the source of this sudden change in atmosphere, the reason steps right in front of him. There, at the bar, is a Shadowhunter.
The only reason Shadowhunters ever come to Pandemonium is if there is any danger like a demon or any rogue Downworlder. However, Magnus made sure to do a thorough background check on every single one of his guests tonight and to put up protective wards against demons just to assure the night would go smoothly so that is most certainly not the reason for the Shadowhunter's visit.
The Nephilim doesn't look like he is on a mission either. He isn't really wearing gear, just an old, horrendous Christmas sweater and some worn-down jeans. He isn't armed, as far as Magnus can tell, which is rather careless and unusual for a Nephilim, too.
“Um, can I just…get a beer?” the Shadowhunter asks, sounding unsure. The bartender, a vampire named Cole, looks over at Magnus with a raised eyebrow and the warlock considers the newcomer for a moment before deciding the Shadowhunter doesn't seem like he came there looking for a fight. And he definitely looks too young to be a Circle member, considering the Circle was formed around 20 years ago and he only looks about 20 himself. Reluctantly, Magnus nods at Cole as to signal his permission to serve the other man.
After a moment, the Shadowhunter is handed a tall glass of beer. He looks at the drink curiously as if he doesn't know what to do with it and he lets out a long sigh before taking a big gulp. After swallowing, he starts coughing hysterically.
Magnus can't help himself at this point. “Not much of a drinker, are you, Shadowhunter?” he asks, looking the other up and down. He has dark hair and hazel eyes that seem to be looking right through Magnus. His eyes widen at the question.
“How do you…” he starts, not finishing the question.
Magnus tsks. “Oh my, I thought as a Shadowhunter you would recognize the High Warlock of Brooklyn when you see him.” He blinks once, revealing his cat eyes as both a way to make a point and a silent warning to the Shadowhunter so he knows who he's dealing with.
Realisation dawns upon the brunette's face. “Oh. You're Magnus Bane.” To the warlock's surprise, he doesn't even flinch when he sees his warlock mark. He doesn't look at him any different than before after finding out, actually, which is… odd. Most Shadowhunters will take any opportunity to flaunt the fact that they have angel blood in front of demon-blooded creatures like Magnus. In his 400 years being alive, he's encountered very few who are different.
Magnus simply nods and he expects the other to introduce himself too, but instead the Shadowhunter picks up his glass of beer again and downs it all in one go. He makes a face, clearly not enjoying it, which means he's there for one reason: to get drunk.
“I'm Alec,” he finally says after a long time. “I get it if this is a Downworlders only club or something, I just walked into the first place I saw. I can just leave,” he quickly adds and Magnus finds it very peculiar that a Nephilim feels the need to explain his presence to a warlock. It's not something you see every day.
And maybe that is the reason why instead of doing what he would usually do and asking Alec to leave, Magnus shrugs. “Suit yourself.”
Alec seems just as surprised at the response as Magnus feels about it himself. After a long moment, the Shadowhunter turns back to the bartender. “Hey, can I get whatever it is he's having?” he asks, pointing at Magnus's drink.
Magnus raises an eyebrow. “I should warn you this is way stronger than a beer.”
Alec nods. “Good. Yeah, that's what I need.”
After the original shock, the Downworlders in the club quickly start ignoring the Shadowhunter, either having too much fun to care or realizing that an intoxicated Shadowhunter is the furthest thing from danger.
And was this guy drunk.
Magnus has been sitting next to him the whole time as he kept ordering drinks and wanted to cut him off a few times but saw no reason for it since Alec hasn't been violent or anything.
They make some small talk, as much small talk as a warlock and a Shadowhunter can do. The situation is comical really.
Alec seems to keep to himself for the most part, just like any typical Nephilim. But with every drink, his shoulders loosen a little bit more and so does his tongue.
After his fifth drink or so, Alec starts crying.
And Magnus is…not sure what to do about it. He knows how to take care of a Shadowhunter causing trouble. A Shadowhunter who is drunk and crying is kind of new territory to him though and for a moment he wishes he was fighting Alec instead. It would definitely be easier.
“By the Angel, my life’s a mess…” Alec sniffs, speech slurred, head in his hands. “’m spending Christmas Eve at a bar tryin’ to get away from…my own family.”
Magnus eyes him curiously. He hasn't bothered to ask Alec how he had ended up here but that makes sense. Or actually it doesn't, considering how much blood means to Shadowhunters.
“What could your family possibly have done?” Magnus asks, wondering if a shoulder to cry on will help Alec stop crying or if the question was so intrusive that it would make things worse.
The Shadowhunter looks up at him as if he is surprised Magnus had actually listened to him. For a moment, he looks so scared that the warlock thinks he might take off, but then Alec looks around and leans closer to Magnus, so close that Magnus can smell the vodka in his breath.
“It's not what they did…but what my parents will do when they find out…” Alec says, so quietly that Magnus almost doesn't hear.
“Find out what?”
Alec struggles to find the right words and Magnus can't help them, since he is really not sure what Alec is getting at here. The Nephilim has surprised him quite a few times tonight.
“That I…can't do what they want me to do. I can't live the life they want me to live.”
Magnus is even more confused. “But don't Shadowhunters always have the same lives? Serve the Clave, get no paid holidays and no sick leave?” he points out and that actually gets a laugh out of Alec. Magnus finds that the Shadowhunter is unfortunately very beautiful when he smiles.
Alec looks down at Magnus's lips for a moment too long, most likely too far gone on the alcohol to try to be sleek about it. “You're pretty,” Alec blurts out.
Oh.
Oh.
Now it all suddenly makes sense, considering Christmas has always been a celebration of family and bloodlines to Shadowhunters. Alec is talking exactly about that, continuing the bloodline. Or perhaps his inability to do so in the literal sense.
Before Magnus can double think this, Alec speaks up again. “I wish I could say things like this without havin’ to be…” he looks over at his glass. “Blackout drunk for it. Wish I could call you pretty just like Izzy calls men pretty and doesn't get disowned.”
“Who's Izzy?” Magnus asks, trying to complete the puzzle.
“My sister.”
Well, that confirms the warlock's suspicions. Alec is queer and probably got tired of hearing all the regular Shadowhunter family talk around Christmas time. All that crap about how important it is to pass on the family name and make sure everyone upholds the honour of whatever family he belongs to.
Before the warlock can say anything else, Alec speaks again, all inhibitions apparently gone. He's been staring at Magnus's lips for almost a minute without even caring. “By the Angel, I wanna kiss you soooo bad,” Alec groans, looking defeated.
As charming as this one Shadowhunter might be, Magnus reminds himself of one thing.
“You're drunk, Alec. You should go home.”
Alec laughs, but his smile doesn't reach his eyes like before. “Are you really sending me back there? I don't wanna be home, Magnus. I'd much rather be here. With you,” Alec says, and for a moment he sounds so genuine that Magnus wonders whether he's actually as drunk as he seems.
But then a pair of werewolves cause a little bit of a commotion right behind Alec's back. Magnus has an eye on it the entire time and it's just two friends pulling each other's leg, but the Shadowhunter doesn't know that and he quickly turns around in his chair, holding his arms out as if to protect Magnus.
Before Magnus can even acknowledge the gesture, Alec loses his balance and falls off his stool, landing in a sitting position on the floor.
He seems shocked by how his attempt at protecting Magnus went, but shrugs it off pretty fast and a goofy smile appears on his face at that. “Oh would you look at that?” he mutters and then looks up at Magnus. “I fell for you.” He giggles and Magnus definitely doesn't find the sound endearing.
Magnus decides that enough is enough and that he can't let this handsome Shadowhunter flirt with him like that any longer. Not considering the circumstances.
Not like Magnus would consider Alec's words genuine in other circumstances. He's a Shadowhunter.
“That's it,” the warlock says, looking over at Cole, the bartender. “I am cutting him off for the rest of the night.”
Alec whines from where he is sitting on the floor, probably unable to get up. “Really? ‘m fine,” Alec says but he barely gets the words out.
Magnus offers him a hand to help him up and Alec takes it. He is surprised at how soft his skin is considering this man grew up holding Seraph blades.
He is getting distracted again.
He needs to do something. Say something.
“You are not fine, Alec. I am flattered that you find me attractive. But you came here to drown your problems in booze. Believe me, I understand and I have been there. And I am not asking you to go home and tell your parents that you're gay and asked a warlock to kiss you. Definitely not both at once. Definitely not when you are drunk because you will regret it in the morning. But you are a vulnerable Shadowhunter in a room full of people who hate Nephilim so I think the safest place for you now is the place you ran away from.”
Magnus is truly not used to being the voice of reason in any situation ever so he is very surprised when the words come out. He is even more surprised at the fact that he cares so much about this one Shadowhunter’s safety.
He is certainly very surprised to realize he hasn't let go of Alec's hand the entire time he's spoken and when he does, he lets go and takes a step back.
Alec stares at him for a long moment and Magnus wonders how much of that he was actually able to pick up on. After a moment, the Shadowhunter says something almost inaudible. “Do you hate Shadowhunters, Magnus?”
The truth is… Magnus does hate Shadowhunters. He has every reason to, considering how many of them have tried and failed to kill him. How many have done worse, torturing him or verbally abusing him just for being the son of a demon.
But the truth is also that he doesn't hate Alec. Alec didn't flinch or curse at him when he saw Magnus's eyes. Alec wasn't there during the Uprising or during other time periods when Shadowhunters would behave towards Downworlders with downright brutality and Magnus can't blame him for the errors of his ancestors. But he doesn't think saying that aloud is a clever idea.
“If you still remember this conversation by tomorrow, come back here and then I will answer your question, okay?” he finally says, thinking that that would be the wisest course of action and guessing that it would never come to be anyway.
Alec seems more than happy with the answer, because he starts smiling like he's just seen a puppy.
Magnus can't help but smile back at him.
“Let's get you home, Alec.”
Magnus looks around to make sure everyone in the club is still minding their own business and they are. No one even bats an eye when Magnus opens a Portal for Alec and waves him goodbye as he watches the Shadowhunter step through it.
Once Alec is gone, the Portal closes behind him and Magnus sits back down on his stool, letting out a long sigh. This encounter was definitely peculiar, but the problem is that Magnus is pretty sure he will be thinking about it for some time. He hates that about himself.
He is about to order another drink to distract himself when he hears a whooshing sound behind him, followed by a strong breeze. Another Portal opening.
He stands up and spins around, calling upon his magic, blue sparks igniting at his fingertips but he lets his guard down when he sees no one other than a confused Alec step through.
Magnus blinks. “You were supposed to go to the Institute.”
Alec shrugs and shifts from one foot to another. “Couldn't focus on the Institute, all I could think ‘bout was being back ‘ere,” he says and he stumbles a bit, unable to keep his balance.
Magnus urges himself to ignore any thought that makes him feel like this is adorable. He tries to push away the thought of how Alec had a free Portal to go anywhere where he might be happy and he just ended up back here.
He needs to be the reasonable one here.
And the only reasonable solution he can think of is accompanying Alec. This time he got lucky being sent back to Pandemonium but if Alec steps through again in his state, he might end up in another country or in limbo and that's something Magnus doesn't want. That shouldn't be Magnus's problem or concern though, but for some reason it is.
“Alright, pretty boy, I am going to walk you home,” he says, as he takes a hold of Alec’s elbow and opens another Portal with his free hand.
“You think I’m pretty?” he hears Alec ask as he leads him through the Portal. Magnus doesn't answer.
When they step out, they are met with the cool night air. Magnus couldn't risk portalling them inside the Institute as that would sure raise some alarms and he would rather not report to the head of the Institute that one of their own stumbled into his club. No Nephilim would ever believe that. So just outside the building will have to do.
“Can you manage from here?” Magnus asks, looking around to make sure no one sees him. He has a reputation to uphold and being seen helping a lost Shadowhunter wouldn't help.
Alec still seems dazed, but he nods. Magnus then lets go off his arm and he expects Alec to walk right off, but then the Shadowhunter steps into his space, so close that Magnus feels like he should be pulling away. But he stands there frozen, hating the fact that Alec is a few inches taller than him.
Alec leans in, placing a small peck on Magnus's cheek and drawing back a second later. “Merry Christmas, Magnus.”
Magnus smiles. “Merry Christmas, Alec.”
“See you tomorrow,” Alec says and and almost trips over a tree branch because he's walking backwards still looking at Magnus.
And for a moment Magnus believes him.
But then tomorrow comes around and Alec doesn't show up. Of course.
Magnus isn't stupid, though. He's done his research on the current residents of the New York Institute in the meanwhile and he knows now that Alec must be Alexander Lightwood. And Lightwoods have always been more trouble than they're worth.
So he tells himself it's for the better.
And he keeps telling himself that until he can't anymore. He keeps telling himself that and he almost manages to forget about their encounter until Alexander Lightwood is back in his club, looking for Clarissa Fairchild's memories. And the way Alec looks at him and the way Magnus's heart reacts to it soon makes him realize that keeping his distance was never his choice to make.