Fandom: Shadowhunters/The Mortal Instruments
Word Count: ~2,250
Content/Warnings: established relationship, blow jobs, anal fingering, anal sex, bottom!alec
Summary: He's never thought of his body as something to be used for decadent pleasure, but with Magnus, everything's different. Alec's different.
Notes: I've been a fan of this pairing for years, ever since I started reading The Mortal Instruments when I was a teen. I've been seriously loving the resurgence of fandom in the wake of the Shadowhunters TV Show, especially because the actors playing Magnus and Alec are lovely. They've been invading my brain, so I figured writing a little something was the only thing to do! Inspired by that glorious scene of Magnus practicing magical Tai Chi in season 2.
Thanks to hfflpffhoe for the beta! ♥
Read on AO3
Alec may have some hangups when it comes to sex, but the same doesn't hold true for his body. It's hard to feel self-conscious as a Shadowhunter, when the marks on your skin carry such power and significance. Nobody bats an eyelash when Izzy shows off as much skin as physically possible while still maintaining a modicum of decency, and it's not uncommon to see warriors in various states of undress at the Institute, sparring, or applying runes, or coming back from a difficult fight with their clothes in tatters.
Alec has never had a problem with nudity, hasn't ever felt nervous about people seeing his bare skin. Though maybe that has something to do with the fact that nobody's ever looked at Alec the way Magnus does.
"You're staring," Alec murmurs as he tries to focus on achieving the controlled grace of the Tai Chi movements Magnus has been teaching him. It's never bothered Alec before, training in only a loose pair of black shorts, but he can feel Magnus's eyes on him like a physical caress, and something burns hot and low in his belly.
"I can hardly help you refine your form if I'm not allowed to look at you, Alexander."
Alec's cheeks heat, and he chances a glance towards where he know Magnus is standing. He's dressed just as sparsely, his usual glitz and glamor put aside for this daily ritual. Alec's breath catches, his form slipping just like he knew it would, when he takes in the chiseled muscles and obvious strength of Magnus's body, normally so skillfully hidden beneath sparkles and fine tailoring. The smug smile on Magnus's lips tells Alec he's been caught, but Magnus is hardly one to talk. His eyes rake over Alec's figure like he's a waterfall of fresh water in the desert, and God, he makes Alec feel brand new, makes him feel alive.
Alec's always had a healthy appreciation for his body and the things it can do. He was raised to be a weapon against the darkness, and his body is the first line of defense. Alec's intimately familiar with what his form can do, how bone and blood, muscle and sinew all work together to make Alec one of the best fighters at the Institute. He knows how far and fast he can run with an Endurance rune before his lungs begin to heave. He knows how long he can last in close-quarter hand-to-hand combat before his muscles begin to scream for oxygen. He knows how to trade vicious blows with inhuman creatures and still come out ready for more.
It's always been a source of quiet pride for Alec, the things he can push his body to do. He likes the strength of his muscles—the better to wield heavy seraph blades with—and he likes the slender dexterity of his calloused fingers—the better to grip the string of his bow with—and he likes the burn of dark ink on his pale skin—reminding him that he's a warrior, that he has a purpose, that he belongs.
Alec's body has never been a stranger to him. It's been a tool, a comfort, and he thought he knew all the wonders it contained, all the feats it could achieve. There's the pulse of giddy satisfaction that suffuses him after every successful mission, that dizzying high that comes from pushing his body to its limits and coming out on the other side. It's a sign from above the he's good enough, strong enough, fast enough, that all the hours of training he's put in are paying back in full.
He's never thought of his body as something to be used for decadent pleasure. No, he was meant for greater things. His body is a weapon, suffuse with blood from the heavens, sanctioned for glorious and violent purpose. He's always taken satisfaction in it, the way the Iron Sisters must take satisfaction in the ademas weapons they forge for their heavenly cause.
But with Magnus, everything's different. Alec's different.
"Magnus," Alec says, moans, the heat inside him growing hotter and hotter until he feels like he must be aflame.
He's not sure who moves first, if he reaches for Magnus or Magnus reaches for him, but they're kissing, Magnus's hands in his hair, his body plastered against Alec's front. Alec wonders if it'll always be like this, if he'll always be drawn to Magnus like a moth to flame, eager to light up all the long-dark places inside of himself, uncaring if he burns up in Magnus's brilliance in the process.
Magnus guides them towards the bedroom as Alec's hands roam over sweat-slick skin and sinewy flesh. This is hardly the first time they've done this, not the first time they've explored one another to sinful release, but each time still hits Alec like a jolt of electricity. The novelty hasn't worn off, twenty plus years of conditioning aren't so easily shaken off.
He feels brand new beneath Magnus, as if the skin under Magnus's fingertips isn't the same skin that's cover Alec's body his entire life. Magnus's lips are soft as petals as they slide against Alec's own, but their touch is far from gentle, sending his heart racing like he's just run five miles. How fascinating that Magnus can push Alec's body to its breaking point, without Alec lifting a single finger.
Magnus's magical hands slide across Alec's pecs, over his shoulders, down his biceps, and every caress has Alec's normally tense and unyielding muscles melting back into the mattress. He's malleable clay, ready to be reshaped, remade, reborn.
Magnus is a downworlder, part of a community that Alec's been taught to treat with a healthy dose of suspicion and fear, and that alone should be enough to put Alec on high alert. None of the rules seem to apply to Magnus. He looks at Alec, and every ingrained instinct telling Alec that Magnus is a threat melts away like a dropped glamor, until there's nothing left but Alec, bare and vulnerable. Magnus is no wolf, but Alec still wants to bare his throat to him.
"Oh, Alexander," Magnus whispers as he catches the look in Alec's eyes. His fingertips trace over Alec's lips, and Alec's mouth opens on a whine. Magnus's eyes flash gold, his glamor dropping as lust overcomes his expression. Pleasure and desire coil tight in Alec's gut.
Magnus's lips twitch into a smile, before he presses them to Alec's skin, kissing down Alec's chest and leaving a line of fire in his wake. But this fire isn't the burning agony of a demon wound, it's a raging inferno of pleasure, radiating out over Alec's skin and lighting him up in a way Alec never knew was possible. He's heard enough about sex from Jace and Izzy to know it's supposed to be pretty great, and it wasn't as if he hadn't touched himself enough late at night to understand the appeal, but he never realized, never knew if could be like this. That his body could feel like this.
His body was always something to be mastered and conquered until it did Alec's bidding, shaped into something lethal and formidable. Unlike his wild sister, his fighting parents, his untouchable parabatai, his body was something he could command. Alec has always been in complete control of every action, every movement, and that was exactly how he liked it.
And yet, here, on Magnus's bed, his body stretching out on thousand thread count sheets, it can't be more obvious that Alec's no longer in control. Magnus scratches his nails down the outside of Alec's thighs and pleasurable goosebumps shiver out across Alec's skin. His mouth slides over Alec's cock, and Alec's hands fist the sheets as he arches up into the warm, wet pressure. Slick fingers press inside, brush teasingly against his prostate, and Alec loses his goddamned mind, writhing against the mattress, begging the way he never could have imagined he would.
Magnus pushes into him, hard flesh splitting Alec open, pain mixing with pleasure as Magnus sinks all the way inside. Alec's pinned to the mattress, completely at Magnus's mercy. It should shame him, terrify him, and it might have, once. But he trusts Magnus, he loves him, and in Magnus's bed, his soldier's body doesn't belong to the Clave, or the Institute, or even to Alec. He's Magnus's to play with and manipulate; Alec is just along for the ride.
Alec loves it.
Magnus moves inside him, and it's like the rest of the world moves with him, the very earth beneath them trembling with each and every thrust. He's so deep inside, stimulating nerve endings and working muscles in Alec's body that he never knew were there. Magnus fucks him, and the world lights up, technicolor flashes pop across Alec's vision as pleasure coils hot and persistent in his groin.
"Magnus, Magnus, Magnus," Alec chants, eyes unfocused, heart working overtime to pump blood through his overheated body.
"That's it, sweetheart," Magnus murmurs, his voice a cool balm against the inferno of sensation burning Alec up. "Give it up for me. Let go for me, darling."
Clever fingers work Alec's cock as yellow cat eyes gleam down at him, and the unbearable euphoria of Alec's orgasm crashes over him in a furious deluge of pleasure. It leaves him quivering and shaking in the aftermath, sweat dampening his brow, his body as weak as a kitten's with the bone-shaking energy of it all. He never knew his body could feel like this, could feel so much.
He's over-sensitive in the aftermath, another new sensation as Magnus slides out. Magnus's lips are fever hot, and his cock is even hotter as Alec grips him tight and brings him off, adding to the mess on Alec's stomach. Magnus's pretty eyes flutter closed when he comes, and his mouth drops open. He's beautiful in pleasure (he's beautiful in everything) and Alec likes knowing that, too, likes knowing that his hands, bow-calloused and blood-stained, are capable of doing more than delivering death. He thinks making Magnus come might be the most beautiful thing they've ever done.
They laze about in bed afterward, even though it's almost noon, and Alec should probably return to the Institute at some point. Lying back in Magnus's pillowy soft bed while the sun illuminates them both feels almost more decadent than the heights Magnus just brought his body to. Alec is used to hard, economical beds, and waking up before the sun has begun to creep across the horizon. His body is hard-wired to function on minimal sleep, to crave order and action, but now all he wants to do is curl against Magnus's side.
He craves touch after sex, likes to feel the solid warmth of Magnus next to and around him. Magnus doesn't seem to mind, his ever-moving hands playing with Alec's hair and tracing over the runes cover Alec's skin, sending little jolts of pleasure sizzling out across his flesh.
Alec feels amazing, invigorated. Endorphins flood his senses, making him feel simultaneously completely relaxed and totally rejuvenated. It's better than any rune, and Alec knows he could become addicted, could come to crave this pleasure and satisfaction with an ending hunger. He doesn't know how people in relationships function, because all he wants to do is stay here with Magnus, hidden away from the world as Magnus shows him what other marvelous things this wondrous body of Alec's can do.
A shrill noise cuts the peaceful air, and Alec growls at the familiar sound of his ringtone. Magnus chuckles, the vibration rumbling against Alec's cheek and inexplicably making him flush. Magnus snaps his fingers, and Alec's phone sails into his open hand, still ringing. Alec scowls, but he takes the offering. Izzy flashes on the screen.
"What is it?"
"Well, hello to you too, big brother."
She laughs, the sound a little tinny through the cheap speaker. "Yeah, yeah. Sorry to interupt your Magnus time, but Mom needs to see you. She says it's important."
Alec sighs. "I'm sure. Tell her I'll be there in an hour."
"On it. See you soon."
Alec hangs up and turns apologetic eyes to Magnus, who's smiling fondly at Alec, his eyes soft.
"Go on, save the world, Shadowhunter. I have work to do, too, and I'll probably be more productive if you aren't here to tempt me."
Alec grins as he climbs out of bed, his stomach fluttering at Magnus's appreciative sigh as he bends over to pick up his clothes. Magnus pouts as Alec dresses, sliding back into his warrior's skin. It's not a perfect transformation. There's a mark on his clavicle from Magnus's eager lips, a thumb-print bruise on his hip where Magnus gripped him a little too tight; and there's a lingering ache in his ass, a faint twinge when he walks that fans the ember of desire in his soul that burns steady for Magnus.
He kisses Magnus goodbye, an innocent brush of lips that turns slick and filthy with little effort, until Alec has to forcibly drag himself away, a little dazed.
"I'll see you soon, Alexander."
"Yeah, soon," Alec confirms.
Alec walks out of Magnus's apartment and towards the institute, shoulders set and head held high. He prepares himself to meet with his mother, to become Alec the Shadowhunter, the soldier, the weapon once more.
He ghosts his fingers over his neck, his thumb brushing against the lovebite hidden beneath black cloth, and smiles.
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