Archive of Our Own ^beta

1. 

In the grand scheme of things, when compared to marriages that spanned fifty years and childhood friends who went to the same nursing home, perhaps Alec hadn’t known Magnus Bane for very long. They were still getting to know each other, really. They were still learning each other’s superfluous fancies and deepest darknesses. 

But, in the months since they’d met, Alec thought that he’d learnt to read Magnus at least a little. Alec was good at reading people. And, as the eldest of four siblings, he was particularly good at noticing when people were in distress.

Magnus didn’t seem like anything was wrong. He’d smiled brightly when Alec had pulled up outside his condo, and given Alec a quick but passionate kiss hello that had rendered him almost unable to drive, and he’d taken Alec’s hand when they darted into the restaurant just as it began to rain. The waiter had offered them a window table in lieu of the table they’d reserved outside, but Magnus had pointed to the awning and said that they didn’t need to rejig their entire lunchtime reservations. The waiter had looked so relieved that Alec had wondered what sort of insanity some big-name celebrities demanded.

So there was nothing obviously wrong, but, as they were perusing the menu, having declined wine - Magnus because he wasn’t supposed to drink with his meds, and Alec in solidarity - Alec was certain that something was wrong. 

Maybe it was simply the aftereffects of Magnus’ recent resurgence of depression. It had knocked him out for a few weeks, and, in truth, Alec hadn’t been entirely sure whether he was helping or hindering, in his efforts to be there for Magnus in whatever capacity he needed. 

Across the table, Magnus flinched visibly. Alec’s brow furrowed in confusion, and he looked up from his menu. Magnus flinched again, this time closing his eyes and turning his head towards the restaurant building, resting his cheek in his hand. 

“Hey.” Alec ducked his head in an attempt to get Magnus to look at him. “Are you alright?”

Magnus smiled fleetingly at him. “Fine, Alexander, just–”

A flash of light in his peripheries caught Alec’s attention. Magnus’ nostrils flared and his jaw clenched, and he angled his body in the same direction as his head.

Frowning, Alec turned to look in the opposite direction. They were seated in the garden at the back of the restaurant, on a raised wooden veranda surrounded by dainty shrubs and potted flowers positioned along the edge of the deck. The garden was surrounded by a wooden fence, mostly concealed by a low hedge and several small birch trees, which someone had decorated with strings of fairy lights. Nothing out there would be the cause of Magnus’ distress, surely? Not unless he was frightened of the small birds chirping by the feeder.

There was another flash, more obvious, this time. Alec’s eyes scanned along the perimeter of the garden, lingering between bushes and behind tree branches, then darting up to the top of the fence, and—

His eyes widened, and he stared, lips parted, at the sight of two hands holding a camera at the top of the fence, which clearly belonged to either an exceptionally tall person, or someone standing on a large box—or perhaps a small ladder.

“What the fuck,” Alec said. He spotted another camera lens extending above the fence, a metre or so along from the other, and gasped. “What the fuck.”

Magnus exhaled. “I’m sorry.”

“What on earth are you sorry for?” Alec asked, turning back to Magnus. “It’s not your fault.”

A wry smile twisted at his lips. “Well, it is. They’re here for me.”

Alec pulled a face. “That doesn’t make it– Never mind. Give me that.”

He took the unnecessarily large menu from Magnus’ hand and held it up beside them, creating a barrier between them and the paparazzi. The flashes paused, and Alec leant out from around his makeshift shield to shoot the cameras a smirk. Fuck you, he thought, and hoped to hell it showed on his face.

Magnus was staring at Alec as though he’d never seen him before. Alec ducked back behind the menu, and opened it out double so that it shielded them both without him having to lean in so far.

“What are you doing?” Magnus asked, as though it wasn’t perfectly obvious.

“Letting us have our lunch date in peace,” Alec said. “They can’t exactly sell photos of a couple of headless bodies. How can they prove it’s you?”

Magnus stared at him for a moment longer; Alec wondered whether he’d done something wrong. Perhaps Magnus felt like he had to let them photograph him. Perhaps his discomfort had been an act. But then Magnus let out a laugh, and, within moments, he was laughing so hard he had to wipe tears from the corners of his eyes. Mystified, Alec raised an eyebrow.

“Sorry,” Magnus said, still chuckling. “I must seem like I’ve gone mad today. Just– It’s going to make them so angry.”

The glint in his eye suggested that Magnus didn’t mind the paparazzi getting irate over their unsolicited photoshoot plans being ruined. 

“Have you chosen?” Alec asked. “I can probably turn this around so you can read it without giving them a shot of your face.”

“I’ve chosen.” Magnus reached across the table and covered Alec’s free hand with his own. “Thank you. You don’t have to sit like that all the way through lunch. I’m not going to make you eat one-handed.”

Alec shrugged. “If I put it down they’ll just start again. It’s fine. I’m happy to do it.”

Once they’d placed their orders, the waiter not batting an eyelash at Alec’s unusual menu usage, Alec peeked out from behind the menu to see if the cameras were still there. Flashes began the moment Alec moved—and stopped just as quickly. Presumably, when they realised that he wasn’t Magnus. 

“I shouldn’t have brought you here,” Magnus said, sounding miserable. “There are always paparazzi waiting for a photo of someone famous here. Usually they’re kicked out pretty quickly. The staff must be busy today.”

It was hardly the first time people had tried to photograph them in the months since their relationship had first been exposed, and Magnus had confirmed it on Twitter. But it was the first time Magnus had reacted like this. Normally, he ignored them, or flashed them one smile and then told them to get lost, or once, when a group had been particularly persistent, he’d sent a text to one of his security staff to deal with them.

“Are you sure you’re alright?” Alec asked, not wanting to push but also not quite able to let it go. Not without checking.

A long breath left Magnus, and his eyes dropped to where his hands were loosely folded atop the table. Even with the thick grey clouds overhead, his rings glinted, catching what little light there was. His nail polish was new—the last few times Alec had seen him, it had been the same deep crimson, steadily chipping away. At some point in the last few days, he’d replaced it with a fresh coat of shiny black.

“No,” Magnus admitted, looking up at Alec with a small, wry smile. “I’m not in the mood to deal with people who want to sell photos of me trying to live my private life for thousands of dollars. And I’m really not in the mood to be photographed.”

“Well, that’s understandable,” Alec said, and shrugged one shoulder. “You’re trying to eat lunch.”

Magnus shook his head. “No. Well, yes, but not just that. I don’t... I don’t feel attractive right now. I don’t feel like the guy whose face is on billboards. I don’t feel like the guy who does sexy photoshoots. I don’t feel like myself again yet. And I certainly don’t want the rest of the world to see it.”

Alec inhaled through his nose, watching Magnus steadily and taking a few seconds to consider his words before he spoke. This was important. The moment felt fragile, stretched out between them like an elastic band ready to snap at the slightest tug. He didn’t want to say the wrong thing.

“Nobody would be able to tell,” Alec said, holding Magnus’ gaze. “From a photograph, nobody would be able to tell that you’re coming out of a rough spot. You look just as stunning as you always do.”

Magnus huffed out a laugh. “Alexander—”

“But I understand.” He paused, making sure the words sunk in. “I understand why you don’t want people harassing you and shining a spotlight on you when you’re still healing.”

Magnus’ expression softened. “Alec.”

Whatever Magnus might have wanted to say was interrupted by the arrival of their food. Alec thanked the waiter, and set about eating his food one-handed, checking every now and then to ensure that their menu-shield was still in the correct place.

Magnus refused to let Alec pay when the cheque came, despite the fact that, for once, they were in a restaurant Alec could - just about - afford.

“Are you ready to go?” Magnus asked, downing the last of his drink and quirking an eyebrow at Alec in a bizarrely enticing way. 

(Perhaps Alec was attracted to unusual things. Perhaps he was just very, very into Magnus Bane. Either way, it didn’t really matter.)

“Yeah, I think so,” Alec said, chancing a glance around the menu to see that the cameras were still there.

“They’re going to get a photo in when we leave one way or another,” Magnus said, sounding resigned. “You might as well give up now. There can’t be any blood left in your hand, you’ve been holding that thing for so long.”

“And what a waste it would be if I let them snap a picture now.” Alec shot Magnus a grin. “I’ll stand this side while you put your jacket on.”

Magnus shook his head as though he couldn’t quite believe what he was hearing. “You are one of a kind, Detective.”

Alec shrugged, standing in position with his back to the cameras and the menu held aloft to shield Magnus’ face.

They left the restaurant through the front door holding hands, Magnus gripping Alec’s a little more tightly that normal. No paparazzi had come out front, perhaps assuming that Alec would be walking around with a menu from now on to block their photography attempts, and they managed to get back to Alec’s car unscathed.

“I can’t believe you did that,” Magnus said, laughing as Alec turned on the ignition and switched the radio station to something he thought Magnus wouldn’t mind. Magnus’ taste in music was as eclectic and unpredictable as his taste in everything else, so it was hard to know what to play to impress him.

“It wasn’t bad, right?”

“No! No, not at all. It was brilliant.” Magnus snorted. “I almost wish I’d taken a picture so I could post it with some nice snarky caption.”

“Probably better for your manager’s blood pressure that you didn’t do that.”

Magnus smirked. “Oh, but that would have been so entertaining.”

Alec shook his head, smiling. “That poor guy.”

“I have no idea what you could possibly mean,” Magnus said. “I have never done anything wrong in my life. My manager can attest to that.”

“Mm. I’m sure that’s exactly what he’d say if I asked.”

“Shut that pretty mouth of yours,” Magnus said, and reached across the console to pull Alec into a kiss.

***

2. 

By the time Alec got home on Monday evening, after a weekend of pouring over old records in an attempt to get a lead in a case that was proving exceptionally difficult, he was so exhausted he could barely keep himself upright. He had to key in the security code three times before he got it right, because his fingers wouldn’t function, and, once he made it upstairs, he fumbled with his keys for several long seconds before managing to unlock the front door. 

He dropped his bag in the hallway and toed off his shoes, stumbling a little, before calling out to Magnus, wondering whether his boyfriend was home. 

“Hi, love.” Magnus appeared in the doorway looking like comfort personified, dressed in a soft pair of pants with his hair sticking in all directions. He looked like he’d just come out of the shower. Alec wanted to crawl into the circle of his arms and never leave. “Are you alright?”

“Yeah, fine,” Alec said, leaning in to greet Magnus with a swift kiss. “You?”

“I’m good.” Magnus reached up to cup his cheek in one hand, frowning a little as his eyes flickered between Alec’s. “You’re home late. Did Luke ask you to work overtime?”

Alec shook his head. “No, but I needed to. Sorry.”

“Don’t apologise. You just look tired, that’s all.”

“I’m fine,” Alec promised him. He covered Magnus’ hand with his for a moment, smiling. “I am starving, though.”

Magnus rolled his eyes fondly. “Dinner is your mother’s leftover lasagne from the weekend. There’s some in the fridge. I haven’t made anything.”

“I wasn’t expecting you to,” Alec said, pulling away from Magnus to head into the kitchen. He needed some food, and a strong coffee. He’d feel fine after that. 

***

Alec got home long after Magnus every day that week, which was, he wasn’t ashamed to admit, fairly unusual. Magnus often worked longer hours than he did, but right now, Alec was leading up a team on what seemed like an impossible case. But he had a victim who was counting on him doing his job. He had to put in the damn work.

It wasn’t until the following week that Magnus said anything about it. 

Alec had spent half of the weekend working, and he still felt like he wasn’t on top of everything, so he’d stayed late at work. Later than anybody else, in fact. Not that he minded. It was only short-term. Once they solved the case, things would go back to a more normal equilibrium. 

“God, Alec, sit down before you keel over,” Magnus said, before Alec had a chance to say hello. “You look dead on your feet.”

“I’m fine,” Alec told him, as Magnus took him firmly by the shoulders and steered him into the living room and down onto the sofa. “Just a bit tired.”

“A bit?” Magnus’ eyebrows shot up, making a valiant effort to meet his hairline. “You’re giving eighteen-year-old me a run for his money.”

He sounded a little angry, Alec realised, with a flash of surprise. Angry, and perhaps a little upset, judging by the bright discontent in his eyes. Upsetting Magnus was the last thing Alec ever wanted to do. 

He shook his head. “Magnus, I promise, I’m fine. I’m just doing what I have to do. I’m sorry I’ve been getting home so late, but it won’t be forever.”

A breath escaped Magnus, and with it, the frustration that had been oozing off him seemed to dissipate. Looking resigned, he came to sit beside Alec on the sofa and reached out a hand to squeeze his thigh gently. 

“I’m not upset that you’re not here enough,” Magnus said. “I’m upset that you’re not looking after yourself.”

Alec swallowed his immediate instinct to protest and dismiss Magnus’ assertion. That was how they got into fights. Alec had learnt that lesson enough times. But, still, he had to force himself to pause and take a breath before he responded.

“Alright, yes, I’m stressed,” Alec admitted. “This case is insane. We can’t seem to get a hold on anything, and we’re all desperate to solve it. It’s difficult. But that’s just life. Sometimes life is stressful.”

“I know,” Magnus said, with a sympathetic smile. He reached out to touch Alec’s knee, the hard bands of his rings pressing through the fabric of Alec’s pants. “But I don’t think doing your job should be causing you this level of stress. Not when it’s impacting your health.”

Alec raised his eyebrows. “My health? You mean my mental health?”

“No.” Magnus shook his head. “That’s important, but I meant that I’ve noticed the painkillers rapidly disappearing from the cupboard. And the caffeine pills. And I can’t remember the last time you slept for more than five hours.”

Alec didn’t quite know what to say to that. It was true. He’d been suffering from headaches that wouldn’t budge not matter what he tried, and he’d been raiding their Tylenol supply more than was probably ideal. But it was temporary. It was all temporary. He just had to get through it. 

“Look,” Magnus said, after a moment of silence, “I know as well as anyone that sometimes things are stressful, and sometimes we do have to work hard to get what we want, and it is just hard, no getting around it. But I also know sacrificing your health is a step too far.”

“What do you want me to do?” Alec asked, shrugging a little. “It’s not like I can magic more time into my day so I can relax. And I can’t stop working if I want to solve this.”

“Let me take you out somewhere on Saturday to take your mind off of everything. One day off. And I could pick up some of your chores, if you like. Just until you’re done with this case.”

“You’d do that?” Alec asked, unable to keep the surprise out of his voice. 

“Of course I would. Not forever, but if it helps.” He squeezed Alec’s knee. “Things aren’t particularly hectic for me at work right now. I can spare an extra few hours a week to help you out.”

“That’s– Thank you. That’s kind of you.”

Magnus smiled. “Of course. Now, turn around.”

Alec frowned in confusion, but did as Magnus asked, turning on the sofa to that he had his back to his boyfriend. He felt hands rest on his shoulders, thumbs skimming lightly up and down his neck, and he shivered at the touch.

“Tell me to stop if this hurts,” Magnus said, “but Cat did this for me once when I was suffering from headaches, and it was amazing.”

Alec opened his mouth to ask what Magnus was talking about, but he didn’t get the chance. Magnus dug his thumbs firmly into the muscles in Alec’s neck either side of his spine, massaging slowly up and down. 

Humming, Alec closed his eyes. It felt nice. The softness of Magnus’ hands on his skin felt nice. The warmth of his touch, the intimacy of feeling his breaths tickling his hair, the care in such a gesture—it was so damn nice.

Magnus’ thumbs shifted down half a centimetre, and Alec’s eyes flew open, a strangled moan falling from his lips entirely without his permission. 

“I can actually feel how knotted your neck is here,” Magnus said, conversationally, as though what he was doing with his hands wasn’t the best thing Alec had ever felt in his twenty-six years of life. “It feels like gristle. No wonder you’re getting headaches, love.”

“Magnus,” Alec gasped, staring straight ahead but not seeing a thing, all his senses focused on how unimaginably good it felt: Magnus massaging out tension that he didn’t even know he had.

Magnus’ hands faltered. “Would you like me to stop?”

“No! Oh my god, no, I can’t even describe how that feels.”

There was a pause, a beat of silence, before Magnus pressed his thumbs back in, lower this time. Alec felt himself begin to sag, as though all his stresses were bleeding out of his body with every careful push of Magnus’ hands. Sex held nothing on this, Alec thought. This was like pure, unadulterated relief. Relief he hadn’t even realised he needed.

They sat in silence for what could have been one minute or twenty, while Magnus kept up his ministrations. Eventually, he eased off, and leant in to press his lips to the nape of Alec’s neck. 

“Better?” he murmured against Alec’s skin.

“Yeah.” Alec exhaled. “Yeah, god. Thank you. That was amazing.”

He turned in time to see Magnus’ lips curl up into a bright, sweet smile.

“I’m glad,” he said, reaching out a hand to run his knuckles along Alec’s cheek. “I was worried when I saw I’d made you cry.”

“I– What?” Alec lifted his fingers to his cheek, and stared in confusion when they came away wet. “Oh. I didn’t even realise.”

“If you’d like me to do it again, just ask.”

“I will. God, how did I manage to snag myself the best boyfriend ever?”

Magnus snorted, unfolding himself from where he was sitting cross-legged on the sofa to stand.

“You know, most people make those declarations after a really good orgasm,” he said, offering Alec a hand up. 

Alec took it, fingers fitting between Magnus’ with practised ease. He didn’t stop moving once he was upright, and let the momentum careen him gently into Magnus chest, arms curling around his neck. 

“Orgasms are great,” Alec murmured, eyes dropping to Magnus’ lips, “but that was better.”

“If I’d known all it took to seduce you was a neck massage, I’d have offered you one the moment I saw you in Pandemonium.”

“And avoid my siblings embarrassing me in front of you at every possible opportunity for the next month? Yes, please.”

Magnus grinned at him and pressed a swift kiss to his lips. He pulled back far too quickly. Alec couldn’t help his slight pout. 

“I thought it was charming.”

“I’ll show you charming,” Alec said, swooping in to kiss him properly.

Magnus moaned, fingers tangling in Alec’s hair, and, if he weren’t busy doing far more important things with his mouth, Alec would have smirked.

Maybe orgasms were still up there. 

***

3.  

An agonised cry wrenched Alec from sleep.

He bolted upright in bed, eyes darting around and heart pounding as adrenaline rushed through him. It wasn’t the kids, because they were at Simon and Isabelle’s. Magnus and Alec had had a long overdue date night, and god, things had been hard, lately - not bad, and certainly not hard between them like they had been when Max was a baby - but last night had been a mostly successful effort to start making them better, and take some time for themselves, and—

He could hear crying.

Magnus.

Alec snatched at the robe hanging on the back of the chair in front of Magnus’ vanity as he rushed out of the bedroom in search of his husband. 

The moment he saw Magnus curled on the floor by the sofa, he felt his heart sink. He didn’t have to go and look to know what Magnus was crying over. If he’d been a little more awake and a little less exhausted, he probably would have known the moment he heard Magnus cry out the first time. It wasn’t like it was unexpected.

Well. Not to him, anyway. He hadn’t said anything to Magnus because it would have upset him. And, god, with how things had been recently, it probably would have made him angry, too. With Alec, and with the world.

When Alec approached, the sight of Magnus reaching out with a shaking hand to stroke between Chairman Meow’s unnervingly still ears shattered his heart. 

“Oh, Magnus, I’m so sorry,” he said, dropping down onto the floor beside him. He slid an arm around Magnus’ shoulders. Magnus turned, fingers clutching at the front of Alec’s robe, and pressed his face into Alec’s neck as his body shook.

Alec had taken their adorable little cat, who looked far too tiny to be old enough to have reached the end of his days, to the vet a few days before. He hadn’t lied to Magnus about it (unless neither of them bringing up the visit at all counted as lying) but Magnus hadn’t asked - whether because he was too busy to remember, or because he wanted to deny that his feline friend was nearing the end - and Alec hadn’t volunteered the vet’s assessment. 

“He’s always there, he’s always– Alec.”

“Shh,” Alec murmured, and pressed a kiss to his hair as he pulled Magnus closer, so they were curled around each other on the floor. “I know, baby. I know. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”

Magnus took a deep, shuddering breath that tore at Alec’s heart, and said, haltingly, “I know it’s stupid to be this upset about a cat, but I loved him so much.”

“It’s not stupid. I loved him too. It’s okay.” Against him, Magnus sniffled, and Alec felt tears prick at his own eyes. “I know.”

He still remembered the first time he’d met Chairman Meow. He remembered the way he’d leapt at Alec’s shoe and tried - futilely - to claw his laces off. He remembered Magnus’ assertion that if his cat liked Alec, he’d successfully passed the familial test. He especially remembered the way Magnus had spoken to the Chairman like he was an exasperating, misbehaving toddler who could understand his every word. 

“He had a good life,” Alec said, as gently as he could. “He was old. And he would have suffered.”

“That doesn’t make me less sad.” 

Magnus sounded a little angry, but Alec could forgive him for that. He ran a hand down Magnus’ back and then up again, repeating it over and over and over until he felt the tension in Magnus begin to thaw. 

Eventually, Magnus stopped crying. But Alec didn’t move. It didn’t matter that the floor was absolutely killing his knees, because Magnus was still gripping at him tightly, his lashes were still wet with tears, and he was still sniffling. There wasn’t a chance in hell that Alec would let Magnus go.

“You knew,” Magnus said, voice rough, after a few minutes of silence. He lifted his head from Alec’s shoulder. “Didn’t you?”

“I suspected. I asked, when I took him to the vet’s the other day.”

“That’s why you were taking all those silly pictures when we were playing with him at the weekend.”

“Yeah.”

“God.” Magnus dropped his head back to Alec’s shoulder, and let out a weak, watery laugh. “I don’t know what I’d do without you, you know.”

“It’s a good thing you’ll never have to find out, then,” Alec said, and kissed Magnus’ hair. “You’re not annoyed? That I didn’t say anything to you?”

Magnus shook his head. “No. It’s selfish, but I– I was happier, not knowing, I think.”

“You’re allowed to be selfish once in a while. It wasn’t like it did any harm.”

They were quiet. Then:

“Alexander?”

“Mm?”

“If I look, I’m going to cry again.”

Alec glanced over Magnus’ shoulder, and then back at his husband. “You can if you want to. I’m right here.”

“He’s so little.”

“He is.”

“I’m going to miss him.”

“Me too.” Alec closed his eyes and pressed his lips to Magnus’ temple. He stayed there for a moment, lingering, and then murmured again, “Me too.”

***

Max and Rafael picked up on how sad Magnus was about Chairman Meow in the sweet, instinctual way of children. They behaved, and they were particularly nice to Magnus, hugging him extra tightly at bedtime, and they cornered Alec to demand that he get Papa another cat to stop him being so sad. 

Alec left it four months before he acquiesced to their request. The last thing he wanted was for Magnus to feel like he was trying to replace his beloved cat, who’d been his companion for years before Alec had even met him. 

He took Max and Rafe to a rescue shelter, having told Magnus that he was taking them to see a movie while Magnus finished up some work at home on a warm Saturday afternoon, and let them look around while he chatted with the woman who worked there. 

Eventually, they returned to the loft with a small tabby, who was nervous around people but undeniably affectionate. Rafael had picked her out. It had taken her a minute of nervously darting away from his attempts to pet her, but, eventually, she’d curled up against Rafael’s ankle and purred lowly while he stroked between her ears. Alec felt certain that Magnus would adore her. 

“We’re back!” Alec called out, redundantly, as he unlocked the front door with one hand while the other held fast to the pet cage. 

“How was the movie?” Alec heard Magnus asking Rafe and Max as they ran into the living room, clearly excited to show Magnus their new friend. 

“We didn’t see a movie!” Max said loudly. Alec could imagine the grin splitting his face, and smiled to himself as he set his wallet and keys down on the side table and toed off his shoes.

“Oh?” Magnus asked, a note of surprise in his voice. “What did you do all afternoon, then?”

“We got you a present,” Rafael said, just as Alec rounded the corner. He leant against the doorway, holding the crate out of sight, smiling at the sight of his family. Designs were spread out across the coffee table, and Magnus sat on the floor, barefoot, with Max in his lap and Rafael curled up against his side. Alec wondered whether there would ever be a time when he wouldn’t be proud of how far Rafael had come since they’d first met him. 

“A present?” Magnus glanced up at Alec, one eyebrow raised. “What kind of present?”

“One we very much hope you’ll like,” Alec said, and brought the crate into view.

It was funny, really. He’d known Magnus for so long. He’d loved him, heart and soul, for so many years. They knew each other better than anyone else in the world. And, yet, some small part of Alec couldn’t help but be nervous that he’d made the wrong call—that maybe Magnus wouldn’t want another cat, because it would remind him too much of Chairman Meow.

Magnus’ eyes went wide. Alec held his breath. “Is that—?”

“It’s a kitty!” Max said excitedly, and Alec couldn’t help but laugh. 

Alec set the crate down and opened the door. For a handful of seconds, the kitten stayed huddled up against the back of the crate. Then, slowly, she took a few tentative steps forwards, and stuck her nose out into the open air of the loft. Magnus was watching with wide, glossy eyes, and Alec couldn’t look away from him. 

“Hi,” Magnus whispered, making no move to reach out to the cat, yet. “Hi, you. You’re beautiful, aren’t you?”

As had been the case every damn time Alec had ever seen Magnus interact with a cat, it took less than a minute for the kitten to pad over to Magnus, sniff his outstretched fingers, and deem him acceptable. She purred as Magnus scratched between her ears, and didn’t run when Max and Rafe joined in on the careful petting. 

“Oh,” Magnus said, voice fragile, as the kitten clambered over his ankles to sit on the thigh not occupied by Max. She meowed, looking up at Magnus with wide eyes, and Alec saw Magnus’ fingers tremble as he reached out to pet her again. She rubbed her head into Magnus’ touch and closed her eyes in obvious contentment.

“Do you like her?” Max asked, looking to Magnus for approval. 

“I—” Magnus’ voice came out rough. Alec straightened where he stood, uncrossing his arms. “Yes, of course I do. She’s—”

His voice hitched, quivering around the words as his eyes glistened. In sync, Alec saw the hopeful, excited expressions on Max and Rafe’s faces fall, and they both turned to Alec, clearly worried and having no idea how to react to an unusual show of vulnerability from their father.

Alec crossed the space to where his family sat and knelt down beside Magnus. He set a hand on his back and pressed a kiss to his temple, and Magnus inhaled deeply, eyes closing for a heartbeat as he leant into the touch, drawing strength from it.

“I love her,” Magnus said finally, voice steady. Alec squeezed his waist. “She’s perfect. Thank you.”

***

4. 

If someone invented a time machine and enabled Alec to go back in time to the man he’d been at twenty - doing a degree he was apathetic about, working two part-time jobs, and wondering how such an inconsequential thing as being gay could fuck up his life so much - and gave him a preview of what his life would be like in twenty years, he’d probably have laughed in their face and told them where they could shove their mocking.

But, apparently, he had pretty much everything he’d ever wanted.

As he stepped out of the bathroom, dressed in his work suit and wiping toothpaste from the corner of his mouth, Alec could hear Max and Rafael bickering in the living room as they got their things together and sorted themselves out for the day. There was a mug of coffee on the bedside table next to his phone and headphones that hadn’t been there when he’d gone for a shower. The curtains had been drawn, and there was no longer a warm, sleepy, gorgeous man in his bed, protesting at the prospect of getting up and moaning about how much he despised Mondays. 

All in all, it was a pretty standard morning.

He made a beeline for the coffee, bypassing Magnus where he stood in front of the mirror, entirely unclothed. Nobody had told him that having kids would encroach on his morning coffee-drinking time, but it did. Rather considerably. 

He glanced over at Magnus, noticing that he hadn’t moved, and was staring at himself in the mirror in a way that didn’t seem like his normal appraising.

“Are you alright?”

Magnus was frowning, lips pressed together. “I don’t know.”

Alec raised his eyebrows. “Have you found a grey hair?”

Magnus sounded a little absent when he replied, not looking away from the mirror. “No.” 

A frown settled itself on Alec’s face. He’d expected Magnus to say that he was worried about his muscle tone, or that he’d found a bruise in a bizarre place, or that he’d woken up with a funny pattern of crease lines on his skin, or any plethora of silly, normal things.

He hadn’t expected that sort of response.

Alec set his coffee down, pushed their bedroom door to - ajar, so he could still hear Max and Rafe, but closed enough to give them a semblance of privacy - and walked over to stand behind Magnus. He set his hands on Magnus’ bare shoulders and squeezed lightly. Magnus glanced up, meeting his gaze in the mirror. He looked a little shaken.

“What’s wrong?” Alec asked.

Magnus swallowed, and dropped his gaze down. “I just... Is that normal?”

“What, babe?”

Magnus jerked his chin at his reflection. “That.”

Alec looked over the length of Magnus’ body in the mirror, but couldn’t for the life of him see anything out of the ordinary. And he was fairly sure that he knew his husband’s body better than he knew his own—he could see all the bits on Magnus that he needed several mirrors (or fewer ribs) to see on himself. And he undoubtedly spent far longer checking out Magnus than he did looking at himself.

“I don’t know what you’re looking at,” Alec told him, as gently as he could, because, clearly, whatever it was had upset Magnus.

“Here—”

Magnus grabbed Alec’s hand and pressed his fingers into the flesh a few inches away from his hipbone, in the fleshy part of his abdomen. Alec probed carefully for a moment, wondering what he was supposed to be feeling, and—

“Oh.” Alec’s hand came to a rest, and his eyebrows drew together while he tried to work out what it was that he could feel. “That?”

“Yeah.”

He felt a little bit stupid, but he prodded at his own body in the same place, and then Magnus’ on the opposite side, and pressed his lips together. The lump was small, moved beneath Magnus’ skin as he pushed at it, and was undeniably alien.

“Probably not,” he admitted, lips turning down with abrupt worry. He let up on the pressure, and rested his fingers against Magnus’ hip. “Does it hurt?”

“No.” Magnus closed his eyes, throat shifting and jaw flexing. His voice sounded tight. “Alec—”

“Hey, don’t panic,” he said, rubbing at Magnus’ hip soothingly. “It could be anything. It’s probably a million things that aren’t what you’re thinking. You’re just thinking that because—”

“I’m thinking it because that’s what my grandmother had. Soft tissue sarcoma. Only hers was here.” Magnus rested his fingers just below his navel.

Alec hadn’t known that, not precisely. He’d known that Magnus’ grandmother had died of cancer, and had known exactly where Magnus’ mind would be, but not that it had been that. For a brief moment, he felt a flash of fear pulse through him, before logic overrode it.

“That doesn’t mean this is that,” Alec said. 

But he could see that Magnus looked deeply unconvinced. He could see the worry in his eyes as they darted around the room and back to Alec, always back to Alec, as though if he kept Alec in his sight, maybe it would be okay.

Alec exhaled. “You’re really worried about this, aren’t you?”

Magnus looked faintly sick as he said, “I know you’re right, I know it’s probably nothing, it’s just... I was their age. And it- it ruined my childhood. It ruined everything and everyone it touched, and I—”

A wounded noise that shattered Alec’s heart made its way up Magnus’ throat. He shook his head sharply and turned around, arms rising to Alec’s shoulders and face pressing into his neck. Alec held him tightly.

He understood. He understood that it wasn’t just that Magnus’ grandmother had died of a cancer that had been in almost the same place—it was that Magnus had been more or less the same age as Max when it had started and as old as Rafael when she’d died.

There were a thousand reassurances on the tip of Alec’s tongue. That, in all likelihood, it was nothing serious. That, regardless, medicine had moved on enormously in the last thirty years. That the fact that it didn’t hurt was a good sign. That Alec would be there, always, and that Magnus would never have to go through anything alone.

But, of course, Max choose that precise moment to yell for Magnus through the door. 

Magnus turned wide eyes on Alec and shook his head frantically. “You go.”

“Alright. Get dressed, baby.” Alec took Magnus’ face between his hands and reached up to press a kiss to his forehead, then headed for the door. “I’m going to call in sick, and we can book you an appointment after I’ve taken them to school. Okay?”

“We might not get an appointment that fast. There’s no point taking the day off for nothing.”

“It won’t be for nothing.” His hand rested on the door handle. “You’re really freaked out. I don’t want to leave you alone like this.”

“Papa!”

Max sounded impatient, but not like whatever it was was particularly urgent, in the grand scheme of things. Alec hesitated.

“Go,” Magnus said, wrapping his arms around himself. “Please.”

Alec pressed his lips together. “I’m serious, Magnus. I—”

“Papa!”

It felt like he was leaving a piece of his heart behind as he wrenched himself away from his husband. Magnus wearing such an awful, frightened look tore at his heart; he wanted so badly to protect his family from everything bad in the world, despite how impossible he knew that to be.

“What is it, Max?” Alec asked, emerging from the bedroom to see Max looking immeasurably annoyed, and Rafael exasperated as he picked up his packed lunch and zipped up his bag.

Max frowned at Alec. “I called Papa.”

“Papa’s busy. Can I help?”

“I can’t find my book.”

“Which book?”

“The one Papa read to me last night.”

“The one about the horse,” Rafael supplied, helpfully.

“It’s in the kitchen,” Alec said. “I can see it. By the toaster.”

“Oh!” Max’s eyes lit up, and, any other time, it might have made Alec smile. It didn’t then. “Thank you!”

“Are you two gonna be ready in five minutes?” Alec asked, arching an eyebrow at Rafael.

“Yes, Dad.” Rafael rolled his eyes. “I’m ready now.”

“Good.” Alec bent to press a kiss to the top of Rafael’s head. “Make sure Max is, too.”

Rafael narrowed his eyes. “Is something going on?”

“Papa’s having a bad morning,” Alec said, offering his eldest a small smile. “Don’t worry, kiddo.”

***

Magnus’ hand trembled in Alec’s as they followed a doctor through from the waiting room to an office. She held the door for them, smiling reassuringly when she caught sight of Magnus’ expression, and gestured for them to take a seat across from her. Alec squeezed Magnus’ hand.

She was younger than them, Alec noted. In her early thirties, he supposed, with long blonde hair tugged up into a ponytail and a capable sort of aura.

“Mr Bane,” she said, glancing down at a sheet as she slid it onto a clipboard. “What’s brought you in today?”

“Just Magnus is fine,” Magnus said, with a slightly wavering smile.

The doctor’s gaze flickered to their hands, and, presumably noticing their rings, or perhaps just their body language, said, “Is this your husband?”

Magnus didn’t look at Alec. “Yes.”

Alec had dropped his hand when they sat down, and he didn’t interrupt as Magnus spoke, explaining both what he’d found and why it had shaken him up. The doctor - Emma, she said - nodded along to what he was saying.

“How did you notice it?” she asked. When Magnus hesitated, she added, “If the answer is during sex, that’s really very common and not something to be embarrassed about.”

Alec nearly smiled. Magnus, embarrassed about sex? God. Not a chance.

“One of my kids kicked me in the hip, accidentally, and I was vainly examining myself for bruises. I was supposed to be doing a photoshoot tomorrow.”

“Is the lump in the place you were kicked?”

“No.”

“Does it hurt?”

“No.”

“Alright. Jump up on the bed and I’ll take a look, if that’s okay?”

Magnus sat down gingerly, as though he thought the bed might spring to life and bite his ass, and shedded his shirt as Emma tugged on a pair of gloves. Part of Alec wanted Magnus to look over and catch his eye, so that Alec could shoot him a reassuring smile, but he knew it was probably best that Magnus didn’t see the worry he was sure would be clear in his eyes.

He was worried. He’d played bravado to Magnus that morning, but he couldn’t help his fear.

“That feels like a lipoma to me,” Emma said. “Which is non-cancerous and not at all harmful, so it’s unlikely to need treatment. But given your family history, I’d recommend getting a biopsy, just to be on the safe side.”

“It’s not a sarcoma?” Magnus asked, and the helpless, terrified look on his face broke Alec’s heart.

“I really don’t think so,” Emma said, “and if it weren’t for your family history, I’d tell you to go home and not worry about it. Do you see how it can move under your skin? Sarcomas are much more stuck. It’s a bit deeper than lipomas are usually, but it’s not uncommon for them to be sat like that.”

“How long will a biopsy take?”

“It’ll take about twenty minutes. I might be able to get you one done today. You’ll have a local anaesthetic, and the sample will be taken with a needle, and it’ll only be a few days before you get your results back. You don’t have to do it at all, but—”

“I want to,” Magnus said. He curled his fingers into his shirt where it was balled in his lap. “I want to be sure.”

“Then I’ll go out and see if I can wrangle you a quick appointment,” Emma said. She smiled at Magnus, then at Alec. “You can get dressed. I’ll be back in a moment.”

Once the door swung shut behind her, there was silence in the room, save for the soft sound of their breathing. Magnus stayed immobile on the bed, both hands gripping his shirt in his lap, with his head bowed and his eyes closed. Considering the doctor had said that she didn’t think it was anything to worry about, he didn’t look a lot happier than he had when he walked in.

“Magnus,” Alec said, softly. “Talk to me.”

Magnus made a quiet, distressed noise; immediately, Alec stood, and walked over to stand between Magnus’ legs where he was sat on the bed. He reached down to loosen Magnus’ grip on his shirt, and tugged it from his fingers to help him put it back on. Magnus didn’t say a word. He let Alec do the buttons up without protest.

“Magnus,” Alec said again, once he was done, reaching down to tilt Magnus’ chin up. “What’s the matter?”

“That’s exactly what they said to her,” Magnus said, voice hollow. “I feel like I’ve got déjà vu. Only this time it’s me on the bed, and it’s you on the chair, and it’s Max and Rafe about to have their lives ruined.”

“Magnus,” Alec said sharply, more than a little appalled. “Don’t. Don’t say that. The doctor wouldn’t have said—”

“But they did. They told my grandmother to go home, because it was a lipoma, and then when she came back two months later because it hurt, they told her it was cancer and she was going to die.”

Fucking hell.

“I understand why you’re worried.” He laid his hand along the length of Magnus’ cheek. “God, I do. And I know it’s hard, but please, don’t think the worst-case scenario. Not when that’s also the most unlikely scenario.”

“But it was what happened to her.”

And, much as he hated it, Alec knew there wasn’t really much he could say to that. So he dragged his thumb across Magnus’ cheek, and pressed a kiss to his husband’s forehead, and he hoped, more than he’d ever hoped in his life. 

“I know, baby. Whatever happens, I’ve got you.”

Magnus circled his arms around Alec’s waist and fisted at his t-shirt and pressed his face into Alec’s shoulder. Alec held him, one hand pressed against his back, fingers splayed, the other curled around the back of his neck.

“I don’t want to die,” Magnus whispered, and Alec’s heart shattered at how fucking scared Magnus sounded. 

Alec felt sure, in his heart of hearts, that Emma wasn’t wrong. That she wouldn’t wrongly diagnose a lipoma. But god knew he understood why Magnus wasn’t quite thinking clearly. And, worse, he understood that it wasn’t impossible that she’d been mistaken. 

“I love you,” Alec said, tilting his head to kiss Magnus’ hair.

Magnus merely pressed closer.

***

However much Magnus and Alec both tried to act like nothing had happened, it was obvious that Max and Rafael weren’t buying it. They were subdued at dinner, both quiet where usually it took an enormous amount of effort to get Max to calm down, and they didn’t bicker.

Alec went to clear the plates, but Magnus stood before he could, resting a hand on his shoulder. Alec remained seated, shooting his husband looks out of the corner of his eye as he moved around the kitchen.

“Dad?”

Alec looked back at Max. “Mm?”

“Why haven’t you and Papa been to work?”

Alec and Magnus exchanged a look. “What makes you say that?”

“You’re wearing jeans,” Max said wisely. 

“Right.” Alec smiled ruefully. “We had a day off. Not to do anything fun, there were just too many things we needed to do.”

The explanation seemed to appease them, although Rafael shot him a suspicious look. He hated lying to his kids, but he and Magnus didn’t want to tell them and have them panic. Not when it was probably nothing. 

It was bad enough that Magnus was so shaken up by it all. Alec would be damned if he let his kids get upset over it too. 

That night, after they’d put Max and Rafe to bed, Magnus curled up close to Alec beneath their duvet, and tucked his head beneath Alec’s chin. Neither of them said a word.

As much as Alec tried to fall asleep, and forget about everything, he couldn’t. He could feel the tension lining every inch of Magnus’ body, and their conversations throughout the day kept playing over and over in his head. 

When he looked over at the clock, Alec exhaled. They’d been in bed for an hour, and he was wide awake. Wide awake and thinking himself around in circles and so, so damn close to panicking and freaking the absolute fuck out, despite how calm he’d tried to force himself to be all day.

Maybe that was why. Maybe it had finally caught up. God knew logic could only last so long, when pure, blind panic was an alternative option. 

“Babe, are you awake?” Alec whispered, tilting his head down towards Magnus, where he lay in Alec’s arms. Magnus had one hand resting against his hip, right where the lipoma (Alec was going to call it a fucking lipoma because that was all it was) sat beneath his skin.

“Yeah,” Magnus murmured. “I can’t sleep.”

“Me neither,” Alec admitted.

And, often, that would have been the cue for mutual orgasms, but Alec knew neither of them were at all in the mood for that. 

“Do you want to talk about it?”

Magnus shook his head against Alec’s shoulder. “No. I want to forget about it. I just can’t.”

“Are you going to work tomorrow?”

“Yeah. I can’t sit at home for the next week. I’ll go insane.” 

“You should really try to get some sleep, then.”

“Well I can’t,” Magnus snapped. There was silence for a handful of seconds, the faint sting of hurt rushing through Alec’s chest, before Magnus exhaled. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have snapped at you.”

“It’s okay. It was kind of a stupid thing to say, anyway.” Alec wrapped his limbs tighter around Magnus, as though if they assimilated into one person, everything would be okay. “I just don’t know how to help. I hate not being able to help.”

In the darkness, Alec couldn’t see Magnus’ face, but he felt the brush of a smile against his bare skin. It was the first time he’d seen Magnus smile all day. It only lasted a moment, a fraction of a second, but it was something.

“I know,” Magnus said. “I know you hate falling asleep with things playing, but can we put some music on? Something with no words? I just can’t bear the silence. All I can do is think.”

“Something classical?”

“Anything.”

Alec disentangled himself from Magnus, and reached up onto his bedside table to find his phone. He found a playlist on Spotify, turned on the little Bluetooth speaker he’d bought years ago, and set it playing quietly in the background. Somehow, it sounded better than the silence Alec normally craved at night.

“Come back here,” Magnus murmured, one hand brushing his leg.

“Coming, I’m coming,” Alec said hurriedly, turning off his phone screen and setting the music to silence after a couple of hours. 

“That’s what he said,” Magnus said, but it lacked his usual flirtatious mischief. 

Alec slid back into bed. “We can have sex if you want to. I just didn’t think you did.”

“You were right. I don’t.” A sigh left Magnus as they curled back together, the wash of the music making everything seem a little less lonely. “I’m sorry.”

Alec frowned. “What on earth for? Not wanting to have sex? Don’t be ridiculous.”

“No, no, not that. I just... I know I’m being a bit stupid about this.”

“Bullshit. You’re allowed to feel whatever you want to. Especially considering what happened to your mom. Not,” Alec added hastily, “that I for one minute think the doctor is wrong.”

Faintly, Magnus smiled against his collarbone. “I love you, Alexander.”

“I love you too, babe.”

There was silence for what felt like several minutes. Long enough for Alec to close his eyes and chase sleep and begin to feel that soft, lulling drowsiness. Then:

“Alec?”

Alec blinked his eyes open, but Magnus wasn’t looking at him. He had his face pressed against Alec’s neck. 

“Yeah?” Alec rasped, carding a hand through Magnus’ hair.

“Don’t leave me?”

A frown pinched at Alec’s face as he tilted his chin to look down at the man held firmly in his arms. He shook his head minutely.

“Never,” he vowed, voice low. “You don’t ever have to worry about that.”

Magnus exhaled, as though the words were a relief and he’d really thought for one fucking second that Alec would ever, ever leave him, and he relaxed a little in Alec’s embrace.

***

“Hi, Magnus,” Emma said, smiling as a nurse showed them into the little office. “Take a seat. I’ll get right to it.”

Alec didn’t want to try to psychoanalyse a doctor, who’d probably been taught exactly how to strike whatever the right tone was when beginning a consultation during which they’d have to deliver bad news of some sort, but something about the way Emma watched them as they came in and sat down made relief flare sharply in his chest.

There was only one chair in the room, so Alec gestured for Magnus to sit, and stood beside him, trying to make himself as inconspicuous as possible. It wasn’t his appointment, after all.

“Your biopsy came back negative for everything we were looking for,” she said. “No signs of anything malignant whatsoever. You’re in the clear.”

Beside him in the chair, Magnus exhaled. When Alec glanced down, expecting to see some of his own relief reflected in his husband’s face, he couldn’t quite work out what Magnus was thinking. It was a strange feeling. He prided himself on being able to read Magnus.

“What now, then?” Magnus asked. 

Alec set a hand on the back of his chair, touching his fingers lightly against his back in silent reassurance.

“Nothing, unless you want it removed for cosmetic reasons. It’ll most likely stay pretty much the same as it is now.”

“Right.” Magnus swallowed, and then smiled at the doctor. Alec saw right through it. “Thank you. I appreciate your help.”

After a few minutes of further discussion, Emma showed Magnus a section of the pathology report, explaining it briefly, and then showed them out with a smile and a promise to Magnus that he could come back any time if he was worried. 

Out of habit, Alec’s eyes scanned the corridor and the waiting room as they exited Emma’s office, searching for any reporters or overeager fans waiting to take photographs. Alec found some of Magnus’ fans extremely irritating and rather creepy, at times, but the reporters were worse. He despised nothing more than people selling photos of Magnus for extortionate sums of money. Especially at times when he was vulnerable. 

He steered Magnus through the hospital with a hand on the small of his back. Magnus was silent, which worried Alec, but he wasn’t going to initiate a private conversation in the middle of a busy hospital. 

In the parking lot, Alec located his car, which drew far less attention than Magnus’, and made a beeline for it. Once they were both safely inside, the blackout windows blocking them from view, he turned to Magnus and ducked his head to catch his eyes. 

“Talk to me.”

Magnus blinked as though Alec’s voice had startled him out of a deep reverie. “What do you mean?”

“You haven’t said a word since we left. You got the all-clear. You’re in perfect health. Why are you still upset?”

Magnus shook his head helplessly. “I don’t know. God, I don’t know. It’s like I can’t quite make myself believe it. I thought– I really thought—”

“I know, I know.” Alec reached across the console to squeeze one of Magnus’ hands. “Why don’t you get it removed, then?”

“You said it yourself. There’s nothing wrong with me.”

Alec shrugged. “No, but if you’re going to be reminded of your grandmother every time you see yourself, you could get it removed. Emma said you could get it taken out for cosmetic reasons. Why not this reason? We’re not exactly short on money, love.”

Magnus hesitated. “That’s...actually not a bad idea.”

Alec smiled, and leant over to kiss his cheek. “I thought so. Now, what do you say to a lunch date before we have to pick the kids up?”

Magnus smiled right back, and, for the first time in what felt like an eternity, it reached all the way to his eyes. 

“I would love that.”

***

1.

The sound of a key grating in the lock made Max and Magnus look up from where they were sitting together at the island in the kitchen, Magnus with his laptop opening replying to emails and Max doing his math homework. He was chewing on the end of his pen, frowning at his textbook, but when Magnus had offered to help, earlier, Max had rolled his eyes with such classic teenage disdain that Magnus was going to leave him to it.

“Hey, guys!” Rafael called out.

“Rafe!” Max perked up, homework forgotten, and shot Magnus a half-confused, half-pleased look. “You didn’t tell me Rafe was coming.”

“You were being grumpy,” Magnus told him, with a smile.

“Hey,” Rafael said again as he appeared in the kitchen. He gave Max and Magnus each a quick hug. “Is Dad working the weekend shift?”

Magnus felt his expression sour at the mention of Alec. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Max shoot Rafe a look. One of those looks they gave each other, sometimes, communicating silently in that way only siblings could. Magnus had lightheartedly complained about it to Alec, once, because neither of them ever knew what any of those looks meant. Alec had laughed, and said that it was a survival instinct for siblings needing to communicate nefarious plans or mutual annoyance under their parents noses. 

Magnus tried not to think about it too much.

“He’s gone to the gym.”

“Oh.” Rafael looked between Max and Magnus. “Didn’t you tell him I was coming?”

“No. He left before I got your text.”

Rafael frowned. “Papa, that was four hours ago.”

“They’re fighting,” Max supplied. “About Papa’s new project.”

Rafael’s eyebrows shot up. The expression made him look so much like Alec that Magnus had to avert his gaze for a moment, while Rafael pulled out a chair and seated himself at the end of the island. 

Because he was Rafael, rather than ask about their fight, he said, “What project?”

“Building homeless centres for LGBT youth. It’s a global effort. We’re going to start in Europe, to begin with, and see how things go. We want to build them with easy connections to LGBT friendly medical centres and social services. And I’m not just funding it, I’m going to be on the ground, doing the dirty work.”

“That sounds amazing,” Rafael said earnestly. “But what does that have to do with Dad?”

“Your dad does not think it sounds amazing,” Magnus said, and snorted. “In fact, I don’t think he could have made his disapproval any more obvious. He thought it was great when I first told him, but ever since, he’s been getting steadily more... I don’t know. He thinks it’s a waste of money, or thinks I should just be getting other people to do it, or I’m abandoning my family, or I’m just trying to go on an adventure to get out of my supposedly boring life here, or—”

“Hold on.” Rafael held up a hand, halting the increasingly rapid stream of words spilling from between Magnus’ lips. “Am I missing something, here?”

Magnus frowned. “What do you mean?”

Rafael looked over at Max with incredulity written across his face. Max shrugged.

“Dad actually said all of that?” Rafael asked, sounding a little horrified.

Magnus scoffed. “No, of course not. But it’s what he thinks. He doesn’t have to say it to make it obvious.”

“Okay.” Rafael cleared his throat. “Papa, excuse my language, but that is bullshit.”

Magnus arched an unimpressed eyebrow at him. “Oh, really?”

“Yes. There’s no way in hell Dad isn’t supportive of this. He’s your biggest fan. Everyone on the Internet who can recite the date of every award you’ve won is light years behind. He thinks everything you do is awe-inspiring and world-changing and genius. It’s revolting. Honestly, genuinely sickening. I’ve only just stopped being mortified by it.”

“I haven’t,” Max muttered, but the slight smile curling at the corners of his mouth let Magnus know that he didn’t mind too much.

Magnus’ lips twitched, but he couldn’t help the sadness that clawed at his insides. Once upon a time - god, a mere few months ago - he might have thought that was true. He might have agreed that he and Alec cheered each other on in everything, and were there for each other when things went wrong. They lifted each other up and were there to offer a hand when they reached rock bottom. 

But now...

Well. Alec had made his feelings about Magnus’ project abundantly clear. And, god, Magnus understood why, but at the same time, he hadn’t been so passionate about anything for years. It was about far more than business or fashion. It was about genuinely helping people, and being on the front line, rather than just donating money so that other people could do the work. The knowledge that Alec didn’t want him to do it hurt.

“Papa, maybe you should tell Rafe the rest before he starts having convulsions.”

Magnus exhaled. “It would mean I have to spend four months away. I’d be based in Paris, and flying around the world every couple of weeks.”

To Magnus’ surprise, Rafe merely pulled a face, and said, “So?”

“What do you mean, so? So, your father isn’t particularly keen on that idea.”

Rafael shook his head. “I don’t buy it. I’m sorry, but I don’t. I get that he’d be sad about not seeing you much, but I don’t buy that he wouldn’t support you if that’s what you wanted to do. He always supports what you’re passionate about. Unless there’s something you’re not telling us. Is it dangerous?”

“Of course not,” Magnus said, frowning at his son. “Do you really think I’d do something dangerous when I’ve got two kids?”

Rafael shrugged. “I’m an adult. I’m not your responsibility.”

“Max is,” Magnus pointed out, not willing to start the conversation about the fact that he and Alec would consider Rafael their responsibility even when he was fifty, “and I still wouldn’t take enormous risks when I’ve got a family, even if you were both in your thirties.”

“Then I don’t get it.” Rafael threw his hands up. “I don’t get it, and I don’t buy this at all. There must be something else.”

Frankly, Magnus didn’t really get it either. Alec had supported him through a lot of bullshit over the years. He’d supported Magnus’ whims, his unavoidable travelling when Max and Rafe were young, his months of paranoia after his cancer scare, his bouts of depression and moments of crippling insecurity. And, god, he’d put up with the endless people following them and wanting to know everything about their lives for twenty-five years. 

But, apparently, this was too much.

“Maybe I shouldn’t be talking to you two about this.”

In synch, Rafael and Max rolled their eyes. 

“We’re not babies,” Max said. “We can cope.”

“It’s not like we haven’t heard you two fight before,” Rafael added. “You know, when we were kids, whenever you used to go away and do things that got shown on TV, Dad used to spend the whole time gushing about how amazing you were. Always told us that we should try to find something we loved as much as you loved your job. That we should try things we’re passionate about, like you did, even if there was a risk it wouldn’t pay off.”

Warmth flooded Magnus’ chest, and he glanced down at the kitchen table. “I didn’t know that.”

“And then he’d go through Twitter and report all the hate comments you got,” Max said, eyes twinkling with mischief. “Like, all of them. He got so annoyed with someone once that he made an anonymous account just so that he could tell them what he thought.”

“He actually did that a few times,” Rafael added. “Pretty sure he still does it. I stalk the account sometimes. It’s good. He gets quite creative when someone’s being a real asshole.”

Magnus choked. “He what?”

“You heard.” Max grinned. “It’s fine. Nothing ever happened.”

“I hope you two have never done that,” Magnus said, staring at them both pointedly. Of all the things he’d warned Alec never, ever to do, when their relationship was young, all those years ago...

“Papa, that is not the point,” Rafael said. “And no, we haven’t. But please, focus.”

As Magnus threw his hands up, his wedding ring caught the weak sunlight attempting to break through the clouds. Its weight on his hand had always been a comfort. He’d never worn a ring on that finger before Alec had put one there, and no matter how bad things got, he always reassured himself that Alec was still his husband. Alec was still his. And they’d vowed for better or for worse.

It was silly, he knew. A ring didn’t mean anything. A marriage didn’t mean anything, really. Two people could be married and also be irreparably broken.

Except he knew Alec. And he knew that, to Alec, marriage meant exactly what it was supposed to mean, and nothing less. As long as they were married, Alec would be determined to work things through, just as they always had before. For Alec, marriage was forever.

Alec was Magnus’ forever. Even when it was hard.

“Then you tell me why he’s being so weird and sullen about this,” Magnus said.

Rafael shrugged. “I don’t know. But I do know that it’s not because he doesn’t support you. That’s just— No.”

Magnus smiled faintly. “I love you. Both of you.”

“We love you too,” Max said. “I want coffee. Do you want coffee?”

Magnus shook his head, lips twitching. “I blame Alexander for your caffeine addiction, you know.”

“Now that,” Rafael said, laughing, “is a fair criticism.”

***

As had become the uncomfortable norm over the past few weeks, on Monday evening, Magnus let himself into the loft and shut the door, without calling out. Max was out with friends. He could see that Alec was home - his shoes were by the door, and he’d dropped his coat haphazardly on the back of the sofa - but they were barely talking.

Which was ridiculous, when Magnus thought about it. They’d never have let Max and Rafe get away with not speaking to each other for more than a day when they lived under the same roof. 

He loosened his tie as he headed into the bedroom, planning on having a shower, starting dinner, and then sitting down with Alec to talk things through. Because even if Rafael was wrong, Magnus deserved to know why Alec was being an asshole about something Magnus wanted so much.

To his surprise, Alec was already in their bedroom when he walked in. He sat cross-legged on the middle of the bed, shirtless, a towel wrapped around his waist, hair damp and sticking up in all directions. In front of him, nestled atop the duvet, was a photo album that Magnus recognised immediately. The sight of Alec sitting alone, flicking through their wedding photos with reverent fingers and something sad swimming in his eyes, made his heart clench. 

“Hey,” Magnus said, softly. 

Alec jumped, and his head snapped up. His eyes were a little wide, a little ashamed, a little embarrassed, as though Magnus had caught him doing something he shouldn’t have been. 

“Hey,” he said, voice a little hoarse. He cleared his throat. “Sorry, I– I haven’t cleared up in the bathroom. I’ve left my stuff all over the floor.”

Magnus shook his head. He didn’t move from his position in the doorway. “It’s fine, love. I’m not in a rush.”

Alec dropped his gaze and swallowed visibly. Magnus wondered whether he’d spoken to Alec like that, without the bitter bite of a man scorned, at all in the last week. 

“Rafael told me about what you said,” Alec blurted out, and Magnus froze. 

Fuck. That had not been his intention when he’d confided in his kids.

“Alexander—”

“No, I—” Alec took a deep breath before he looked up to meet Magnus’ gaze. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to make you feel like that. I think this project is amazing, and I think you’re amazing for doing it.”

Magnus’ brow furrowed in confusion. He made his way over to the bed, and lowered himself down beside Alec. He left a few inches between them, but he set a hand on his husband’s back without hesitation. Sometimes, they were far better at expressing themselves through touch.

“Then what is it?” Magnus asked, softly. “What is it that’s made you so cold?”

“God.” Alec closed his eyes, and, to Magnus’ surprise, leant in to rest his head on Magnus’ shoulder. Magnus wrapped his arm more securely around Alec’s waist. “I’m sorry, Magnus.”

“Tell me,” Magnus requested. “Please. I need to know.”

“You’re going to tell me I’m being stupid,” Alec warned him, as he sat up and turned to face Magnus properly. He moved the photo album out of the way. 

“Only if you really are,” Magnus said, smiling faintly. 

“I’m going to miss you,” Alec said, and, when Magnus opened his mouth, he held up a hand. “Let me finish. I’m going to miss you, and I’m going to feel absolutely lost, because I haven’t spent four months without you since the day we met. But I’ll cope with that. That’s not why I was being unreasonable.”

“Is it about Max?” Magnus asked. “Because if it is, that’s not stupid. He’s sixteen. Four months is a long time to cope with a sixteen year old on your own when we’re used to being a team.”

Alec smiled, and shook his head. “No, it’s not about Max. For a sixteen-year-old, he’s pretty low maintenance.” His smile dropped away like a stone rushing towards the ground. “No. It’s– God, it’s so stupid I’m embarrassed even saying it.” He let out a self-deprecating laugh. “I feel insecure.”

Magnus frowned, and he searched Alec’s expression, desperate for clues as to what the hell that meant. He didn’t get any.

“I don’t understand.”

Alec sighed, and his entire body slumped forward. Magnus wanted to wrap him in his arms and never let him go. He also slightly wanted to shake him.

“About us.”

Shocked, Magnus stared at him in silence for a moment. Then: “You’re worried that our relationship won’t survive four months apart? Sweetheart, we’ve been very happily married for twenty years. Four months is nothing. Unless...” Fear twisted in Magnus’ stomach. “Unless you’re not happy?”

“Of course I’m happy,” Alec said, frowning over at Magnus. “It’s nothing like that.”

“Then what?”

“Magnus—” Alec shook his head again, a strange, twisted smile on his lips that made something nervous clench in Magnus’ stomach. “You’ve never really got it, but you’re you. You’re America’s sweetheart. You’re desirable, in every possible sense of the word. You’re rich and powerful and charming and absolutely gorgeous. And you’re going to Paris for four months. I know it’s to do charity work, and I know I’m an awful, terrible person for even thinking it, but—”

“Stop.” Magnus could hardly breathe. He felt faintly sick. “Let me get this straight. You think I’m going to go to Paris and have an affair?”

“No.” 

The vehemence with which Alec said the word loosened some of the horror tightening around Magnus’ throat. He exhaled in relief.

“Good. Because I would never, ever do that to you. You know that. I vowed it to you. God, I can’t think of anything more abhorrent than—”

“I’m worried that you’re going to go to Paris and be tempted. I’m jealous of all the talented, beautiful people who are going to be flashing you smiles and flirting with you and wanting you.”

“Alexander,” Magnus said, equal parts devastated and sickened and angry. “Christ, you must know that I love you more than that. You– I– God. I don’t even know what to say to that. How could you—?”

“I’m sorry.”

“No, I– Clearly I’ve been doing something wrong, somewhere along the way, if you think that.”

Alec pressed the heels of his palms into his eyes, and mumbled, “I’m not explaining this right.”

“Then please, try to, because I don’t understand. I love you. I’ve always loved you, so much that sometimes I look at you and I don’t know what to do with it all. I love you with everything I have. I thought you knew that. I thought I’d shown you that.”

“You have, and I do know that,” Alec said. He swallowed. “It’s– It’s not about you. I know you love me, and I know you’d never betray my trust like that. But the self-doubting part of me thinks that if you spend four months free, you might want to, even if you never would.”

“Free?” Magnus repeated, aghast. “Want to? No, I would never— No. Not ever. We all see people that we find attractive, but I would never want them. Not like that. The only person I want is you. The only person I’ve wanted since the day we met is you.”

A bitter, self-hating sort of smile flashed across Alec’s lips. “It’s not the day we met, though, is it?”

Magnus frowned at him. “What are you talking about?”

“It doesn’t matter.”

“It very clearly does,” Magnus retorted, voice sharp. “Have you always felt like this? Every time I’ve gone away, is this what you’ve always thought?”

The mere idea of it made Magnus feel like his lunch was going to make a reappearance. That Alec could have been carrying around such an awful, choking insecurity for all this time...

“No. I did at the very beginning, but that wasn’t particular to you travelling, that was just my constant, base-level insecurity about us. This is...new,” Alec said, and Magnus felt a split second of relief that was quickly followed by a bottomless well of confusion. 

“Then why now? Did I say something? Do something? Because if I have, then darling–” he reached for Alec’s hand, and squeezed gently when Alec curled his fingers around Magnus’ without hesitation “–I am so, so sorry. If I’ve done something to upset you, to make you feel like this—”

Alec shook his head. “No, of course not. You’ve haven’t done anything.”

He had his eyes fixed on his lap, and he looked so fucking miserable that Magnus felt a little lost. He knew he’d do anything to wipe that expression off Alec’s face, but he didn’t know what he could do. He didn’t really understand what was wrong, let alone how to make it better. 

Magnus felt his own expression darken as a thought hit him, sour and nasty. “Has some asshole paparazzi said something to you? Have they got in your head? Have they published something diabolical?” His jaw tightened. “I swear, Alexander, one word from you and I’ll have them for breakfast. I will make them weep and tremble, and they will rue the day they dared to upset my husband.”

A smile - a genuine one, this time, small and fond and amused - twitched at the corners of Alec’s lips.

“Not exactly,” he said.

Magnus frowned, pursing his lips. “That still sounds like there’s someone I can blame for my husband suddenly feeling so insecure.”

Alec made a grumbling sound in the back of his throat. It was adorable, and, at any other time, Magnus would have wasted no time pointing it out, if only to elicit that glare that belied how pleased Alec always was when Magnus complimented him.

“That word makes me sound like a teenager,” Alec muttered, and then sighed. “There was some dumb article I saw online. About...hottest male celebrities over forty-five, or something like that.”

Magnus couldn’t help the way his eyebrows shot up. “Because that’s your normal reading material on your morning commute?”

“I only read it because you were in the preview,” Alec said, glaring at him. Magnus melted, and felt his mouth curl up into a shameless smile. God, still, Alec managed to make him feel so absolutely charmed. “Anyway. It just...made me think. About how you still look stunning and how I lost it after I got my promotion. Five years ago - god, two years ago - I didn’t care about all these beautiful, talented people who are eternally itching to snag you, because I felt beautiful and talented. I don’t now.”

Oh. Oh. Oh, god, now it made sense. Magnus should have realised before. Alec had never been so worried about fucking something up as he had been about his new job, and it had brought with it a surge of anxiety that had caught Alec by surprise infinitesimally more than it had Magnus. Making it to the gym three times a week and eating well had ceased to be a priority, for a while. The Alec of the present was getting back to it, slowly, but—

God, it made sense now.

“Alexander,” Magnus said, reaching over to cover Alec’s other hand with his. “Darling, having a low point and consequently putting on a bit of weight and losing a bit of muscle tone is not going to push me away. It is certainly not going to push me into the arms of somebody else. Nothing will ever do that. Nothing.”

“I know.” Alec sounded annoyed with himself. “Logically, I know that. That’s what I told myself. But I can’t– I’m sorry. I can’t help it, I’m just worrying.”

“I understand,” Magnus said, because he did. “But let me assure you, you don’t need to. I adore you. Anxiety-eating? Not a big deal. I think you’re sexy whatever you look like.”

Alec smiled at his knees. “Shut up.”

“No. My husband is sad. There’s nothing I wouldn’t do to make him happy again.”

“Oh god.” Alec laughed a little, and looked up. To Magnus’ absolute delight, the tops of his cheeks were pink. “Stop. You’re so cute when you say shit like that.”

Magnus grinned at him. “It’s important that you know. I love you more than anyone in the world, I would do anything for you, and I’m just as attracted to you as I was the day we met.” He paused and regarded Alec for a moment, dropping his eyes down his husband’s bare torso and back up. “Hmm. Scratch that. I’m more attracted to you than I was the day we met.”

Alec rolled his eyes. “That’s just a lie.”

“No, it’s not. Who you are makes you sexy, not just what you look like. I get more attracted to you every damn day. Except when you do heinous things like take your pants off before your socks and walk around in them. Then I turn away in shame.”

This time, when Alec laughed, it was so hard that the lines at the corners of his eyes deepened and the whites of his teeth showed. And, god, that was all Magnus ever wanted: to make Alec laugh like that until the day he died.

“Also,” he added, “we’re nearly fifty. Neither of us are going to look like we did at twenty-five, and neither of us should. If you still looked twenty-five, I’d feel like a cradle-robber. We’ve lived together and loved together and changed together. That’s how life should be.”

“You’re right.” Alec exhaled. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be. You’re allowed to have insecurities. I’m glad you told me.”

Alec smiled faintly. “I’ll try not to make you feel like shit while I’m working up the courage, next time. I am sorry for that.”

“I forgive you. Come here,” Magnus requested, beckoning Alec with a jerk of his chin. 

“I’m not a dog,” Alec said, but he shifted towards Magnus anyway, and knelt between Magnus’ legs. “What?”

Magnus smiled, and reached up to lay his palm against the length of Alec’s cheek. “You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me.”

Alec raised an eyebrow, unimpressed. “You’re saying that because you want to have sex with me.”

Magnus gaped at him, and pulled back a little. “Okay, firstly, yes, I do. Secondly, that should prove to you that I’m still very, very attracted to you. And most importantly, thirdly, I did not say that just to get you to sleep with me. I said it because it’s true.”

Alec hummed, eyelashes lowered until they were almost against his cheeks, gaze on Magnus’ lips. “Guess it’s handy that I’m very, very attracted to you, too.”

Magnus could feel the tantalising warmth of Alec’s breath against his lips, but a thought hit him just before they could kiss. He pulled back, setting his palm against Alec’s chest, and forced himself not to get distracted.

“Before sex,” Magnus said, “I have a bone to pick with you.”

Alec smiled ruefully. “Another one?”

“Oh, I’m afraid it’s much, much worse.” Magnus raised his eyebrows at Alec, trying to imitate the deadpan, unimpressed look Alec gave their sons when they misbehaved. “Our children have revealed your dark secret.”

“Have they now?” Alec grinned at him, but there was genuine confusion in his eyes. “And what dark secret would that be?”

“I believe,” Magnus said, dragging a finger up Alec’s chest to the muscle in his neck to his jaw, “that you have scorned my wise advice, and made yourself–” he paused for dramatic effect “–a fake Twitter account.”

Alec stared at him for a moment, before his expression cleared, and he—

Laughed. Threw his head back and laughed, long and hard, until tears were pricking at the corners of his eyes and he lifted his hands to wipe them away. 

“Oh, god,” he rasped, still chuckling. “I’ve had that thing for years.”

Magnus glared at him. “I told you! I told you when we started dating! Don’t engage with trolls! They’re not worth it!”

“Babe.” Alec shook his head fondly. “I didn’t do it until I was secure enough in our relationship not to care what they said about me. But you? Nobody gets to insult my husband. Especially not via comments on his social media posts.”

Magnus sighed, weary and long-suffering, and tried to stamp down the affection welling in him before he broke character and ended up kissing Alec stupid. 

“So foolish,” Magnus said, shaking his head. He curled an arm around Alec’s neck and slid his fingers up into his hair, scratching lightly at his scalp. “What am I going to do with you?”

Predictably, Alec tilted his head into the contact, eyes fluttering closed as he sighed in clear contentment. 

“Kiss me, I hope.”

Magnus hummed. “That, I think I can do.”

***

5. 

The first time Alec called Magnus that morning, Magnus was in the middle of an appointment with his head stylist about a minor catastrophe concerning the show they were supposed to be doing in a month’s time. It was minor, but it was still a catastrophe, so, much as Magnus loved Alec, he ignored the call. He’d call him back later, when he wasn’t about to scream in frustration. 

The second time Alec called, almost immediately after the first, Magnus paused in the diagram he was sketching on a sheet of paper, and frowned over at his phone. Usually Alec just texted him, if he got Magnus’ voicemail.

“Magnus,” his stylist said, impatiently. “We need to finish this.”

“Sorry,” he said, and shook his head to clear his mind before he continued, letting his phone ring out in the background, where it sat in full view on his desk. In all likelihood, it was nothing urgent. Probably Alec calling to say that something dodgy was happening near Magnus’ office, and that he should avoid it if he could. 

The ping of a notification sounded a mere few seconds later, and then again, and then once more, and Magnus stopped working to stare at his phone, lips pursed. Alec rarely called him twice in a row. Never did he triple-text.

“Run with that for thirty seconds,” Magnus said, tossing the pen at the stylist. “I’ll just be a moment.”

He rose from the table, ignoring the obvious chagrin of his stylist, and picked his phone up to look at his messages. It was probably nothing - Alec had probably forgotten his keys, or forgotten to feed the cat, or was in some meeting that was making him lose his mind and had escaped to the bathroom to moan about it - but he had to check, for his own peace of mind. Just because Rafael and Max had long since left home to live their own lives didn’t mean that he didn’t ever worry about them. If something had happened and he didn’t answer Alec’s call just because of a damn fashion show, Magnus would never forgive himself. 

When he thumbed his phone open and opened Alec’s messages, his heart stopped.

[From: Alexander <3, 14:42]

Please pick up

[From: Alexander <3, 14:42]

Please

[From: Alexander <3, 14:42]

I really need you

Brow furrowed, he typed out a quick reply, saying that he’d be one minute (not a second less, I swear) and then he turned on his heel. Behind him, his stylist had her eyebrows raised, but they dropped the moment she caught sight of Magnus’ expression.

“Is everything alright?”

“No,” Magnus said, walking towards his office door. As pleasantly as he could, he pulled it open, and said, “I’m afraid we’ll have to do this later.”

“What?” She stared at him. “Magnus, we don’t have time, we have to—”

“I’m sure you’ll manage to get a team together and finish without me, if you have to. I hear you give you executive power to make whatever decisions you see fit. I’m sorry, but this is more important.”

She pulled a face. “What on earth could be more important?”

“My husband,” Magnus said crisply. He gestured to the door with one hand. “I truly am sorry, but please...”

As she left, she shot him a sideways glance that suggested that she thought Magnus had his priorities very mixed up, but frankly, he didn’t give a single flying fuck about her opinion of his priorities. He shut the door firmly.

The third time Alec called, Magnus answered before the first ring could finish.

“Magnus?”

“I’m here, Alexander.”

“I really need you to come home. Please.”

Magnus blinked. Alec had never asked him that before. Not ever.

“What’s going on? Are you alright? Are you hurt? It’s not Rafe or Max, is it?”

“No, they’re fine.” Alec inhaled shakily. He’d been crying, or was about to. Magnus couldn’t tell which over the phone, but it made his heart clench and twist with fear. His relief that Max and Rafe were okay was overshadowed by how very not okay Alec was. “No, it’s– it’s my dad.”

“Your dad?” Magnus’ brow creased in confusion. 

To his knowledge, Alec had hardly spoken to his dad for a decade. He tended to turn up at Thanksgiving, but that was about it. Even to Max and Rafe, who had always known full well who Robert was, Luke was - and always had been - Grandpa. Robert was irrelevant. After everything he’d done to Maryse, and everything he’d done to Alec when he’d been outed, and his complete lack of remorse about how he’d treated his son in the years since, and the minor issue of his money laundering, Magnus thought it was entirely appropriate.

“He’s–” Alec choked on a breath and then coughed, and Magnus straightened in alarm, suddenly desperate to be there to ease such heart-wrenching sounds. “He’s dead.”

Magnus froze. Oh. Oh, god. 

“Sweetheart—” he began, feeling a little unsure, and then stopped. Because what was he supposed to say? What was Alec feeling? Alec had spent years loathing Robert, and the decades since feeling complete apathy with a mild undercurrent of disdain. And before all of that, Alec had loved him, looked up to him, wanted to make him proud, because Robert was his father. Magnus had no idea how Alec was feeling.

Other than awful. That much was fairly obvious.

“Are you at home?” he asked instead. 

“Yeah.” Alec laughed. It sounded hollow. “I don’t even remember getting here. I got the call at work and just left. I only told Lin I was going. God, fuck, I shouldn’t have just left like that, I should have– I—”

“Shh, my love,” Magnus said, as soothingly as he could. “Shh. Take a deep breath.”

“I can’t.” And, god, Alec was crying now. Properly crying, sobbing, like Magnus had rarely heard in all their years. “I can’t, I can’t, I can’t, I—”

“You can, Alexander.” His voice was firm. “I’m going to breathe, you’re going to copy. Okay? Ready?”

Alec made a strangled sound that Magnus took to be an answer in the affirmative.

“Deep breath in,” Magnus said, and counted. 

And out. In. Out. In. Out. 

In. Out.

“Thank you,” Alec rasped, breaths coming easier now, steadier. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t,” Magnus warned him.

“You don’t have to come home. I’m fine now. I just– It caught me off guard. I wasn’t expecting it.”

“I’ll see you in an hour, love,” Magnus said, because there was not a chance in hell that he’d stay at work for the rest of the day. He wouldn’t be able to concentrate anyway. 

Silence radiated from the other end of the line, and Magnus waited patiently for Alec to protest, and try to tell Magnus that it was unnecessary, that he’d manage, that he could distract himself. 

Bullshit, all of it. Magnus had rebuttals on the tip of his tongue before Alec had even spoken. 

“I love you,” Alec said at last, to Magnus’ relief. 

A small smile ghosted across his lips as he stared out of his office window at the city below, still rushing on, heedless of anything but the eternal struggle for more. 

“And you, Alexander.”

***

When Magnus arrived home, sparing his security team only a brief smile in his hurry to reach his husband, he heard Alec talking quietly on the phone. Exhaustion clouded his voice, and Magnus ached to make it all go away. Not that he could, of course. He knew as well as anyone that grief had to be allowed to run its course, no matter how complicated. 

“I know, Izzy,” Alec said. He sounded upset. “I know. No, don’t– Don’t do that, don’t– Iz.” He sighed, and, as Magnus turned the corner to the living room, he saw him drag a hand across his face. “I’ll call you tomorrow. I need to think.” A pause. “Yeah, of course I’ll talk to Magnus about it. I love you.”

Magnus waited until Alec had hung up the phone before he made his presence known by rapping his knuckles on the wooden doorframe. 

“Hey,” Alec said, turning to offer Magnus a weak smile. “I’m sorry about earlier. I hope I didn’t interrupt anything important.”

“You’re more important,” Magnus told him, as he had so many times before.

Alec rolled his eyes fondly. “Yes, then.”

“How’s Isabelle?” Magnus asked, rather than get caught up bickering about something unrelated to the more important issue of Alexander’s wellbeing. 

“Pretty distraught, to be honest.” Alec laughed hollowly, and stared down at the coffee table. “You know that when we were kids she was always Daddy’s little girl. My parents kicking me out when they found me kissing a boy was what ruined her relationship with him. And Jace’s. She’s always been so loyal to me, she always supported me against him, but he never did anything to her. Me and Mom, yeah, and Max hates him for all those years he stopped Max seeing me, and Jace hates him because he used to hugely pressure Jace into all these things he wasn’t interested in, but Isabelle... She doesn’t hate him for anything he did to her. She hates him by proxy.”

Magnus hummed in acknowledgement, and crossed the room to sit beside Alec on the sofa. He left a few inches between them, but set his hand on Alec’s knee and squeezed gently. Alec swallowed. 

“She wants to go to the funeral,” Alec said. “But she says she won’t go if I don’t. I told her that’s stupid, but...”

“But Lightwoods are stubborn by nature, even when they modify their surnames.” Magnus’ lips twisted wryly. “Yes, darling, I know.”

Alec glanced across at Magnus, lips twitching upwards in a ghost of a smile. “Something like that. Jace and Max are refusing to go. Mom is going. Someone needs to be there for her, so if Isabelle is being conditional about it—”

“Do you want to go?” Magnus asked pointedly. 

“No.” Alec shook his head. “No, I made my peace with my relationship with my dad a very long time ago. I don’t want to go and listen to everyone tell me how wonderful he was when he kicked me out of my home, refused to let me see my little brother, and treated me like dirt for the next decade. Not to mention the money laundering.”

“Then don’t go,” Magnus said simply. “If you’re that certain that you don’t want to, don’t. Your grief is yours. Your family love you. I’m sure your mother understands. Especially if Jace and Max aren’t interested in going, either.”

Alec exhaled heavily, shoulders slumping, and hung his head. “His new family will be there. His wife, his kids. I don’t even know if he’s got grandchildren by them. He’s had a whole new life for the last twenty-five years. How much is that going to hurt Mom to see? I can’t make her do that alone.”

“If Isabelle really won’t go, one of us will. It won’t hurt us.”

Alec frowned over at him. “One of who?”

“The spouses,” Magnus said, smiling. “Me, or Clary, or Simon. Or all of us.”

They had a group chat titled The Spouses. It had evolved in the early years, before Maryse and Robert’s divorce, when it had been called The Partners, before any of them were married. It had consisted mostly of Clary and Simon warning Magnus about Robert’s shitty behaviours and Maryse’s idiosyncrasies. Now, it was mostly bickering. And begging each other for babysitting. And Clary and Simon sending Magnus terrible candid photos the paparazzi had snapped that week, with snarky captions. (Sometimes the captions were at Magnus’ expense. Sometimes the photographer’s. They usually made Magnus laugh, either way.) 

Uncertainty flickered across Alec’s face. “Magnus, that’s—”

“An absolutely flawless plan.” Magnus raised his eyebrows. “Unless you can think of any issue.”

“No, no, I just– I don’t know what I’d do without you, sometimes.”

“Aw.” 

Magnus grinned, and reached out to tilt Alec’s chin up, holding his gaze. His eyes were still rimmed red, skin paler than usual, and he looked a little grey, but Magnus knew he’d be okay, given time. He’d heal. 

“Luckily, you’ll never have to find out,” Magnus said, and leant in to press a kiss to Alec’s lips.

Alec sighed as he melted against Magnus’ touch. Magnus stroked his fingers gently across Alec’s jaw, feeling the prick of stubble against his skin, and brushed his thumb along the fragile spot beneath Alec’s eye.

They broke apart just far enough to lean their foreheads together. Magnus curled his free arm around Alec’s neck, rubbing soothingly at the muscle there. Tension bled out of Alec slowly, his breaths slowing and deepening as he relaxed.

“Better?” Magnus whispered.

“Better. Thank you.”

“Why don’t you have a hot bath? I’ll make you a coffee.”

“That sounds nice, but I don’t really want to be alone right now.” Alec pulled away just far enough to smile wryly at Magnus. “I’ll spiral.”

“I never spiral,” Magnus lied. They both knew far too well that he did. All the time. “Alright, then, you can watch me make you a coffee and then we can both have a hot bath.”

Alec’s expression morphed into something impossibly soft. He nodded once. “Yeah. I’d like that.”