Alec swears that the dreams he has now are more life like than the ones he had Before Magnus.
Before, his sleeping hours had been filled with dull echoes of his waking life. Images and memories of missions and what-ifs of conversations with those around him that were fuzzy and almost void of all color is what he had to look forward to when he fell asleep. His dreams were so distant, he never thought for any kind of moment that he was awake, as he had heard other people were likely to do. Not all dreams were so dull and distant that they could in no way be mistaken for reality, he had heard, and it was a reality he could only wonder about.
And then he met Magnus, and suddenly, as if overnight, his dreams themselves began to change. They are brighter, and lighter somehow. And they are actual dreams. Rather than mirroring reality in a way that separatesitself from reality at the same time, he can hardly tell the difference between the two anymore. He gets lost in his dreams, has that escape from reality that he had heard so much about in the past. Before, he hadn't been sure how people could confuse things that happened in dreams with what happened in real life, but now…
Now he understands all too well what it is to get mad at the people in his life for what they did in his dreams or what it is like to wake up and be confused because that certainly hadn't felt like any dream he had ever had before, it had felt as real as anything ever did or ever could. He understood now.
And Alec thinks that is amazing. Even if they are just normal dreams about things happening with his family or at The Institute, they are fine, amazing.
But Alec's favorite kind of dreams, he has come to discover, are the ones involving Magnus. He has a lot of those, spends most of his sleeping hours with Magnus as well as his waking ones, and he almost wants to wonder if Magnus' magic is involved with the fact that Alec dreams, most nights, of Magnus Magnus Magnus: Magnus kissing his neck, his jaw, his lips, his chest; him and Magnus having dinner in Paris, in Rome, in the loft; the two of them walking down the streets of New York, hand in hand, sipping on coffee and chatting idly about nothing at all in the world.
These are his favorite dreams, these dreams with Magnus in them; this way, it's like Alec never has to go a single moment without the other, even if some moments are more real than others.
He is just drifting awake—he doesn't wake up, in so many words these days, more like… comes awake, softly, easily. Like falling asleep, it is all at once but soft at the same time. Most things with Magnus are always soft—and there is a smile on his face because God, he had just been kissing Magnus and dream or not, that will always make him happy, will always fill his chest with a warm feeling that takes over his entire being before he even knows what is happening.
Slowly, he becomes aware of the dim light streaming in through the window and he knows the sun is too low in the sky for him to worry about getting ready for work yet. The air is still around him and it smells like Magnus, like home. And the warlock in question is laying on one of his arms, the other holding him close, Magnus' back pressed to Alec's chest; Alec's smile widens as he leans close to Magnus to bury his nose in the warlock's hair for a moment.
Bliss, he thinks, this is pure bliss.
(No wonder he can't help but dream of Magnus; he is so fucking in love with him.)
"Magnus," Alec mumbles, fingers running along whatever skin of Magnus' they can reach,
"Mmhmm?" Magnus replies, seemingly barely awake but awake nonetheless.
"Can I have a kiss?" he whispers.
Magnus makes a thoughtful noise, and Alec wonders if he's going to tease him before he will comply with the request—it wouldn't be the first time, after all—but, instead, he turns around in Alec's embrace so they are now face to face, barely a breath between them, and Alec's heart skip a beat. It is far too early, and Alec is taken off guard—again—by Magnus' beauty, by the fact that he is so lucky to have Magnus, to be here like this with him in moments such as this.
(lucky lukcy lucky.)
"Of course, my angel," Magnus whispers, voice still rough with sleep, and he closes the space between them, easy as that, and kisses Alec slow and sweet and spelling out 'good morning' lazily.
Alec's stomach tightens with the gesture, and he presses closer to Magnus, feeling that same warmth and happiness spread through him once again. He would kill for a million more mornings like this, and he knows this as well as Magnus surely does by now. Nothing will ever compare to this or moments or mornings like this, and Alec will cherish every single one that he is allowed to have with Magnus.
Magnus pulls back after what is either a million moments or none at all, and his eyes are still closed when Alec looks at him, still completely and utterly in awe.
He lets out a sigh, brings a hand up to card lazily through Magnus' hair, then presses another soft kiss to Magnus' lips.
"Did you have sweet dreams?" Magnus asks with a content sigh, opening his eyes slowly after allowing Alec a moment more to gaze at him.
"I dreamt of you," Alec replies, all the answer he needs to provide, though he is sure the small smile on his face helps.
Magnus fixes him with that soft look that he always seems to give Alec when he is in awe of how much he is in love with him, and he seems to be considering what he can possibly say to that. A part of Alec always has and always will feel smug whenever he renders Magnus speechless like this, he can't help but think.
"I… well, I always dream of you, you know," Alec continues sheepishly after a considering beat when all Magnus can seem to think of as a reply is to bring a hand to cup the side of Alec's face. "I guess I just… love you a little too much," he adds, though he brushes his nose against Magnus' to let the warlock know he is teasing. If anything, he thinks, he doesn't love Magnus near enough. Not as much as he could, anyway. Not as much as he will tomorrow, as much as Magnus deserves to be loved. He is trying, though, and he thinks that maybe one day he will get somewhere near being able to love Magnus as much as he deserves.
"No such thing, my love," Magnus says before he is kissing Alec again, and if Alec wasn't a smart man, he would have a hard time telling whether or not this is a dream as well. But the way Magnus' skin feels hot on his own, the way his heart is pounding in his chest—in his dreams, he is always calm no matter what he and Magnus are doing; everything is still and serene and peaceful, in his dreams—tells him this is as real as it comes.
His dreams are wonderful, but there's truly no comparing them to the real thing.