Chapter Text
Jace stands awkwardly in Magnus Bane’s living room, pretending very hard that he can’t hear his brother and his brother’s warlock boyfriend out on the balcony having a polite but intense whisper-fight about whether Alec is going to stay for dinner. He looks around for some kind of distraction, and finds that distraction is easy enough in the warlock’s rather opulent apartment. The layout of the loft is subtly different than what he remembers from the last time he was here, but it’s still a beautiful space. The furniture looks elegant, some of it obviously antique even to Jace’s untrained eye, but it’s also comfortable, lived-in. Nothing like Alec’s room at the Institute, which is pretty spartan despite the fact he’s lived there most of his life. As he looks around, though, Jace notices traces of Alec’s presence all over the loft. A spare leather arm guard abandoned on the end table by the couch, a worn pair of boots Jace bets Magnus wouldn’t be caught dead wearing shoved under a desk in the front hall. Alec’s threadbare black sweater draped over the back of a chair, and a paper cup from his favourite coffee place sitting on one end of the bar. Alec must be spending more time here than he’s admitted to Jace and Izzy.
Jace is glad his brother has found someone, although he still can’t quite wrap his head around the fact that it’s someone so…glittery. He feels genuinely bad about the timing of his arrival tonight, though. It was obvious from Alec’s startled-deer impression and Magnus’ glare that he hadn’t exactly come in at the right moment. Alec is used to Jace embarrassing him by now, at least, but he’s also pretty screwed up about sex, and about relationships in general, so it was probably uncomfortable for him. Jace, having had a front row seat to Maryse and Robert’s bigotry and the maze of guilt and suspicion Alec navigated through his miserably closeted teen years, figures his brother is probably entitled to be a bit of a mess on that front. He has a pretty good idea what it costs Alec to defy his parents and the Clave and choose Magnus. He thinks, based on the care he’s seen Magnus take with Alec these past few weeks, that Magnus probably understands too. Maybe Alec even talks to him about it.
Jace thinks that would be a good thing. He and Alec haven’t talked about Alec’s sexuality in a long time, except obliquely. For years, Alec was so twisted up with self-hate and shame that Jace and Izzy learned to leave it as an open secret, because trying to talk about it elicited nothing but miserable silence from Alec. Even when Jace had decided to push a little, the night before the wedding that never happened, he hadn’t been sure he’d gotten through. “Be true to yourself” was, admittedly, sort of a cryptic way to put it, but he hadn’t wanted to break the fragile truce between them. He’d been sure, after, that Alec was still going to throw himself headlong into a lifetime of loneliness for the sake of duty- and then Magnus had showed up at the ceremony. And miraculously, Alec had walked back down that aisle, away from everything he was expected to do and straight into Magnus’ arms. It was the bravest thing Jace has ever seen him do, and Jace has seen Alec take on a Greater Demon. Moloch has nothing on Maryse Lightwood and the Clave.
Jace glances out the window to the balcony, where Alec and Magnus seem to be done arguing. They’re looking out over the city together, holding hands. As Jace watches, Magnus sways towards Alec and rests his head on Alec’s shoulder. It’s teenaged and sweet and everything Alec never got to have when he was an actual teenager. Jace thinks the warlock can glitter as much as he likes, for that.
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Jace is 17. They’re sitting on the floor in Izzy’s room, because according to Izzy, Jace’s room smells funny and Alec’s room is “oppressively neat.” It’s an ordinary Tuesday night, but Robert, Maryse, and Max are in Idris on business, and Izzy is very persuasive. She’s determined to learn to make cocktails; it’s her newest project, and Jace and Alec are no good at saying no to her, so here they are. Izzy’s determination to learn a recipe is rarely a predictor of success, and tonight is no exception. Jace kind of liked the blue one that tasted like Windex and gummy worms, though.
Izzy has a couch and a couple of chairs arranged in one corner of her room, and they’d started the evening there, but that was several drinks ago, and nobody is really coordinated enough to sit in a chair anymore. Now, Alec is slouched against the wall, long legs stretched out in front of him, listing a little to the right. He’s been staring morosely at his phone all day, but Izzy’s bizarre concoctions seem to have cheered him up a little, temporarily at least. Izzy is sprawled out on the bed with her hair hanging over the edge, perfectly happy to keep talking upside down. She’s telling a story about some vampire she and Aline met at a club last week, and even Alec is laughing at the way she tells it. Jace is leaning back against the bedpost, feeling relaxed and straightforwardly happy. He’s having such a good time, and they didn’t even have to dress up or figure out convincing fake IDs. It’s totally not awkward at all, just the three of them. Izzy has the best ideas.
“We should definitely do this always,” he announces, gesturing expansively with his glass. “Lightwood-Wayland Tuesday booze and bonding time! The Clave would totally approve, this is quality team-building right here.”
Alec rolls his eyes, but he’s also grinning fondly at Jace and sliding bonelessly down the wall. Jace and Izzy are pretty buzzed, but Alec is decidedly drunk. He doesn’t come out to the clubs with Jace and Izzy when they go, so he’s a bit of a lightweight. Jace thinks it’s probably good for him to relax; he’s been pretty tightly wound, lately. Alec is hard to read at the best of times, but the past couple of weeks he’s been especially taciturn, which usually means he’s more miserable than average. Maryse and Robert aren’t easy on him, and he’s even harder on himself.
Alec’s phone buzzes again, and he frowns at it for a long moment, then shoves it clumsily back in his pocket.
“Who’s blowing up your phone, big brother? Is there something you want to share with the class?” Izzy teases, rolling over to get a better look at Alec. Her face falls as she sees him right side up and registers his somber expression.
“No, Iz. Nothing. You know damn well I never have anything worth sharing,” Alec shoots back tiredly. There’s a long silence, and if this were any other night that would be the end of it, but he looks so miserable, slumped against the wall, and he’s drunk and his guard is down. Izzy slides off the bed and goes over to him, sits down next to him, and presses her shoulder to his.
“You know it doesn’t have to be, like, a date or a big relationship drama for you to talk to us, right? You’re our brother. We care about you. We want to know what’s going on with you, even if it’s…well, complicated.”
Alec groans and scrubs his hands over his face. “It’s Gabe. He’s just…pissed off because I told him I can’t do the Idris youth leader conference with him. It’s nothing.”
Izzy looks confused. “What? But you’ve been talking about the conference forever, Alec! You have to go. Mum and Dad would…”
Alec cuts her off, “Yeah, I know. I have to go. I’m still going, just not going with Gabe. I can do a solo presentation, it’s fine.” Alec seems to be ready to stop there, but Izzy glares and waits for him to elaborate. And after a moment, he takes a deep breath and starts talking again, his voice quiet and full of hesitation.“It’s just…I can’t keep working with him. It’s a lot of hours and it’s a distraction and it’s better if I do an independent project. I don’t want to get any more involved. There isn’t anything there yet, but I’m afraid…there could be, if I’m not careful. So that’s why…” He trails off wretchedly and drops his head in his hands. “Fuck. What a fucking mess.”
Jace is wishing he were more sober right now, because suddenly everything is very serious and Alec is actually talking. This is more words than he has ever said about the big, awful elephant in the room, the one that shows up every time Izzy talks about a date, every time Maryse and Robert try to set Alec up with a nice Shadowhunter girl. It’s not like Jace and Izzy don’t know, but Alec has never told them. He’s never even come this close to acknowledging that he knows they know. And now that he is talking about it, Jace is almost overwhelmed by the wave of guilt and misery, the helpless anger rolling through their parabatai bond. He thought he knew how Alec felt, but what he was feeling before was just a shadow of this. No wonder Alec is so shut down all the time, if this is what he’s concealing.
Izzy looks like she wants to cry. “Alec, you don’t have to do everything alone. That’s not fair. You can’t just keep cutting yourself off because you’re…”
“Don’t, Izzy!” Alec spits out, like he’s afraid of what she’ll say next. “I’m not…I can’t. I mean, it doesn’t matter anyway because I’m never going to do anything about it. I can’t. You know I can’t.” The last part comes out sharp and impatient, nearly venomous, and Izzy visibly recoils.
There’s a long, tense silence after that. Jace struggles to contain the onslaught of frustration and resentment rushing through their wide-open bond. They’ve done lessons with Hodge to practice controlling the way strong emotion tends to bleed through the bond, and up to now Jace has had no difficulty managing the occasional minor intrusions he’s felt from Alec’s side. This, though, is something entirely different. Alec has temporarily abandoned his tight control and left the gates wide open, and Jace is so caught up in Alec’s turmoil that he can barely tell how he feels for himself anymore. He clenches his fists, but it’s no use. He’s already speaking before he knows what he’s planning to say.
“So, what, you’re just going to keep pushing people away and pretending it’s fine? You’re obviously not fine, Alec! You’re fucking sad and angry all the time, and we want to help you but we can’t if you won’t tell us what’s going on!” Jace hisses.
Alec turns on him in irritation, but he must be a little unstable from the drinks, because he sways too far to the right as he tries to pull himself up to sit taller. He lurches sideways and Izzy reaches out to steady him, automatic. For a moment he glares down at her hand on his arm like he wants to shake it off, but then his shoulders slump and all the anger seems to drain out of him at once. Jace feels a rush of relief as the bleed-through from the bond subsides and his thoughts become clearer, but then he finds the channeled anger replaced with a leaden sort of despair, easier to manage but no less troubling. He takes a breath and tries to focus on what Alec is saying.
“Okay, fine, you want to know what’s going on? I know you’re both trying to help, but you don’t get it, and you can’t help, because this is how it is. I don’t get to choose. I don’t get to have what I want. That’s never going to happen for me. This is as good as it gets, and I have to be careful not to start thinking I can have more, because that just makes it worse in the long run,” he explains, his voice flat. “It’s not like I’ve got nothing. I can fight, and I’m a good shot, so at least I’m good for something.” Alec wraps his arms around his long legs and curls into himself, tense and miserable. His hands are twisted in the cuffs of his sweater, but he keeps talking, more words all at once than he’s spoken in months.
“It’s not just for me, either. I can’t afford to risk anyone else getting too close and getting hurt because of me. It’s toxic. It’s everything I touch. You know what the Clave is like. Even rumours can ruin people’s lives. Even for you guys, and Max, and Mom and Dad.” He takes a deep, shuddering breath and continues, “So I do have to cut myself off; it’s all I can do. I know I’m going to be lonely all my life. But that’s better than…than hurting someone. Which is what would happen.”
Izzy is really crying now, her face wet and her eyes red. Alec looks utterly defeated, sitting there hunched over like a hurt animal, wary and quiet, but when Izzy grabs his hand he doesn’t resist, just squeezes back without looking at her. Jace doesn’t know what to say, so he shuffles over to sit on Alec's other side, and carefully wraps an arm around his shoulders. Alec sags against him, dropping his forehead to Jace’s shoulder, and the three of them sit there for a long time in awful silence.
Finally Izzy sniffles, sits up, and wipes her nose inelegantly on her sleeve. “Well, it’s not fair. It’s fucked up and awful and unfair, but you’re wrong about one thing, hermano. You don’t have to be lonely. You’ve got us. And we’ve got your back, whatever happens.” She pulls Alec in and hugs him hard, pressing a kiss to his messy dark hair. “And you’d better not tell anyone I cried. I have a bad ass reputation to maintain.”
Alec laughs wetly and swipes tears out of his own eyes with the heels of his hands. “Okay. Thanks, Iz.” He darts a sideways glance at Jace, uncertain, and Jace realizes this is Alec getting ready to shore up his walls, and they might not be able to talk about this again for a long time. He has to say something now, while the window is still open.
“Hey. We’re parabatai. You know I’ll support you, always. I love you, man,” Jace says clumsily. Alec smiles, but he looks so sad, still, so Jace tries again. “‘Your people will be my people,’ that’s totally part of the oath, right? I mean, I don’t think I can deprive the ladies of the world of all this,”- he gestures grandly to his own grinning face- “but I can get a rainbow t-shirt, or paint my nails, or something? You know, in the name of being supportive.” He pastes a mock-serious look on his face, and Alec finally laughs and shoves him.
“Sure, thanks Jace. I knew I could count on you,” he returns, grinning. And if his eyes still betray some hurt, Jace can’t explain it, so he decides to let it go for now.
———————————————————————————————————————
“Straight from Florence,” Magnus announces as he closes the door and the pizza in his hand disappears in a lick of blue flame and then reappears on the table, beautifully plated and still steaming, next to a generous bowl of salad. “If we’re going to slum it with takeout we might as well do it right, don’t you think?”
“Really? Isn’t that kind of a lot of work for…” Jace trails off, suddenly incredulous, because Magnus’ darkly lined eyes are a little too amused. He turns to Alec, who is grinning widely, obviously entertained to see his ordinarily smooth parabatai so easily thrown off balance.
“Yup. International takeout orders- just another one of those ridiculous Downworlder customs Mom likes to go on about,” Alec drawls.
“Be nice, Alexander,” Magnus scolds. “I’m hardly going to object to your Shadowhunter friends believing I’m even more glamourous than I actually am.”
“What would be really glamourous would be if you actually paid for the pizza,” Alec murmurs archly, looking up at Magnus over his shoulder from where he’s stretched out on the couch. Magnus huffs, produces a twenty from his pocket, and flicks his fingers as it is swallowed up in a gout of blue fire.
“Better?” he sighs, with an air of affronted dignity.
“So much better.” Alec smiles at him then, sweet and open, and Magnus smiles back like he can’t help it. Jace has never seen Alec this easy with anyone. It’s strange to see him drop his guard like this. At first Jace had been sure that his misgivings were founded on Alec’s choice of partner- Magnus Bane was not a name that would set any Shadowhunter at ease. Lately, though, Jace is starting to think the ache in his chest has more to do with the sudden lightness he can feel from Alec’s side of their bond, like an unimaginable weight has been lifted away. How had he been so unaware of that heaviness, when now that Alec is happy Jace can feel the lightness so clearly?
It’s not like it was before, Alec’s ascetic self-restraint and his loneliness translated through the bond as a constant low-grade tension, like the beginnings of a headache that Jace could sense whenever he reached for his parabatai. Everything Alec felt was so muted and so tightly controlled that barely a flicker of it was passed on. It’s different now. The change was slow, but now, especially when they’re in the same room like this, it’s so obvious; Magnus smiles at Alec and Jace feels a tiny reflected spark of wonder and elation in the pit of his own stomach. Magnus cards his fingers through Alec’s messy hair affectionately, and the last ripples of Alec’s wave of heat and contentment come lapping at Jace’s feet. Despite the voices of his education, Jace finds himself unable to dislike Magnus Bane.
They end up in the living room eating pizza with the mundane news on in the background. Jace tries not to look too fascinated, because both Magnus and Alec are mostly ignoring it, and he guesses maybe this is a habit for them. Alec has been disappearing at odd hours here and there ever since the wedding- maybe he and Magnus do this all the time, eat takeout and watch mundane TV.
Alec is still on the couch, and Magnus is sitting on the floor in front of him, leaning back against the couch. His shoulders are inches from Alec’s hand, and Jace gets the impression Magnus knows exactly how much farther he’d have to lean back to make contact, but he doesn’t. The position he has chosen, in front of Alec with his back unguarded and his neck exposed, is a tacit admission of trust. It’s not a gesture a Shadowhunter would make thoughtlessly. Jace wonders if the warlock understands the connotation. He doesn’t think Magnus Bane does anything without thought, despite his usual calculated air of nonchalance. It takes a rare kind of courage to be so explicitly vulnerable, and it’s not the kind of courage Jace has ever specialized in. He knows it when he sees it, though, every time Magnus stands in front of Alec with his big, glittery heart on his sleeve, every time he dares Alec to reach out and touch him, every time he lights up when Alec looks his way; it’s a thorough and determined campaign of flirtation and affection. Jace thinks the warlock must know, somehow, how much Alec needs to see that his touch isn’t something to be afraid of.
After a while, Alec reaches forward to trail his fingers over the back of Magnus’ neck, and Magnus shifts readily and pushes back into Alec’s hand, catlike. Alec’s fingers slip forward to linger over Magnus’ pulse, then glide softly down the long line of his neck. Magnus tilts his head and leans back a little more, transparently inviting. The collar of the loose, thin shirt he’s wearing is open almost down to his sternum, and his dark-lined eyes flutter closed, his posture somehow expectant and vulnerable all at once. Alec’s breath hitches minutely as he curls the tips of his fingers over Magnus’ collarbone, and Jace swallows and looks away. It’s nothing, they’re barely even touching, and yet Jace feels the intimacy of that moment more profoundly than any time he’s ever walked in on Isabelle and one of her conquests. When he glances back a few minutes later, Magnus has lifted one hand to meet Alec’s where it rests on his shoulder, and their fingers are lightly intertwined. Alec is staring resolutely at the TV, but his shoulders are relaxed, and he’s smiling.
After dinner, Magnus excuses himself to go “set up the guest room.” Alec and Jace clear the dishes, and Alec explains quietly that actually, Magnus has to go conjure a whole new room and all the furniture to fill it with, so he may be gone a few minutes.
“He’s kind of…heavily invested in the decor,” Alec says, smiling fondly down at the dish he’s drying, “so you should probably say something nice about the colour scheme or whatever.” Jace stares at him incredulously. As far as he can remember, Alec has never told him to say something nice, ever, and he doesn’t know much about colour schemes either. At his lack of response, Alec looks up, already embarrassed and a little defiant. Jace considers giving him a hard time, but in the end he settles on sincerity for once.
“Yeah, okay. I will. It’s really great of him to let me stay,” he says, handing Alec a plate to dry. “And of you, too. I’m sorry I crashed your date.”
Alec goes red. “That’s, ah, that’s okay,” he stutters. “We talked about it, and he gets it. You’re my brother. He doesn’t mind making the effort.”