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His feet come to a standstill, barely having crossed the threshold. His eyes take in a bare back, broad shoulders, well-muscled arms. Skin looking so warm that sunlight must have kissed it countless times.
His heart is throbbing, prickles spreading on his skin like sparkles on his tongue from a soft drink. His eyes lower to the perfectly defined backside and long, strong legs, he remembers the feeling of around his own waist. Smooth, burning skin sliding slick and fervent, yearning for more more more.
There’s the scent he could smell the moment he came in, lingering thick and encompassing. A hint of sweetness and rich spices. He used to find the smell of vanilla sickly sweet, making him scrunch up his nose and gag in pretence, sometimes for real, until his sister finally refrained from using that particular perfume.
But this is different. The first time he was wary, the very instant it hit his nose reminding him of his dislike. The second instant he realized it wasn’t like that, he became curious instead, moving closer to the source, crossing the bedroom to reach the bathroom, the door slightly ajar. He could hear water running, the scent hitting his nose harder.
His hand was on the door, pushing it further open. The air was hot, steam clouds veiling him in as he snuck closer to the shower, watching the silhouette under the water through the glass walls, the sight and smell capturing all of his senses.
He used the body wash himself once, but it isn’t the same as smelling it on him. Magnus’ unique elemental fragrance is what makes it so intoxicating to Alec.
His eyes are up again, watching the finely shaved back of Magnus’ head, noticing his ear is missing the cuff, then he’s distracted by the movement of Magnus’ hands, fingernails painted a deep blue, holding a fluffy black towel about to dry his stomach.
He exhales, eyes shutting for a mere moment, fingers twitching in anticipation. A few steps and he’s behind him, knowing he’s known he’s been here since he entered, probably since he walked through the front door. He’s letting him watch and linger, giving him time, giving him space, giving him peace.
Alec’s eyes catch glowing golden ones through the mirror and his heart gives way. The soft prickles turn into rushing tingles, racing along his body, pouring inside, brimming over.
They’re quietly gazing, sharing more in those few moments than they could talking for minutes. Alec’s so thankful Magnus understands his silences, too often incapable of expressing his overpowering feelings.
His hand moves undetected, a fingertip brushing against the small of Magnus’ back, the simple touch eliciting something akin to a sizzling sensation, making both gasp.
His palm spreads on that patch of hot skin, lets him feel the shudders Magnus is riddled with. Beautiful beautiful beautiful. There’s hardly a thought left on his mind he can grasp.
His eyes are transfixed to his own hand on Magnus’ skin, watching his fingers climb in gentle strokes, up all the way Magnus’ spine, fingers splaying over his shoulder blade, tapping softly along his shoulder and down his bicep, elbow and forearm, right up to his wrist and further, slipping underneath Magnus’ hand, their fingers brushing, reveling in the softness, goosebumps spreading before they’re interlacing, holding on.
Breath hitches in his throat as their hands are set in motion as Magnus brings them to his mouth and places a kiss on Alec’s, making his eyes shoot up, their gazes locking, his legs trembling, Magnus’ scent in his nose enough to make him come undone. The neglected hand covers Magnus’ hip, fingertips gliding along more wondrous, damp skin and firm muscles, across his abs, reaching his other hip bone, enclosing Magnus with his arm, his front pressing against Magnus’ back.
Alec’s resting his chin on the crook of Magnus’ neck, sighing softly, his temple brushing Magnus’ ear, his heart in uproar, yet feeling calmer than he’s ever known.
Their arms are crossed over Magnus’ waist, their hands entwined, their eyes intensely watching, communicating. Alec’s moving his head slightly, his lips reaching, pressing on pulsating skin, the tip of his tongue peeking out to taste the tenderest trace of vanilla.