Magnus and Alec are sitting on the balcony having breakfast; the sun is barely beginning to rise but Magnus thinks that is alright. They have been awake for something like 48 hours now and they are exhausted but Alec had asked to have breakfast with Magnus before they go to bed. The threat that had been plaguing New York that week had required the utmost of their attention and energy, and they were tired and filthy and sore, but Alec had insisted, and Magnus hadn't had it in him to say no to that face, not after what they have been through. He knows they should be healing, should be resting, should be in bed instead of exerting themselves by staying up even longer, but, well.

They can do that after breakfast. Breakfast won't cause them anymore harm, will help them to heal and regain their energy instead.

Except, well, Alec won't let go of Magnus' hand long enough for either of them to actually eat their breakfast. He is staring ahead at the rising sun, face still and stoic and tired—Alec looks so, so tired that it is breaking Magnus' heart, and the warlock would like nothing more than to get Alec to bed, but he had promised they would not move from the balcony until after breakfast, and far be it from Magnus to break a promise to his beloved Nephilim. Every few moments or so, Alec brings his coffee cup up to take a drink of it, before he sets it back down, and that is the most he will do to acknowledge the meal before them. And it is starting to worry Magnus.

"Darling," Magnus begins softly after some time.

And Alec jumps ever so slightly, fingers tightening on Magnus' momentarily before he relaxes and turns to look at him.

"Yes, love?" he says, and Magnus shivers, though he isn't sure just why.

"We should eat," he says softly, strokes Alec's hand with his thumb.

"I know," Alec agrees, lips quirking upwards ever so slightly, though there is little amusement to the gesture. "I just… I don't want to go home—to the Institute, I mean," he adds, as though he really thinks he needs to clarify.

Magnus sits in thought for a moment, thinks that it makes sense, of course; they have spent so much time there lately, and the hours they spent there have been stressful and tiring and all consuming and… heavy. And Magnus knows as well as Alec does that the air at the Institute will still be just as heavy; not enough time as passed for it to be anything but. They are still recovering, still picking the pieces back up and trying to rebuild. And Alec can handle that, of course, but not like this. Not on zero sleep, not stressed and hurt and tired and broken. He can no more put the shadowhunters back together right now than Magnus can put the warlocks back together. And as important as his people are to him, Magnus knows he can do nothing for them when he is not himself.

And his Alexander is much the same way.

And surely Alec knows as much himself, otherwise he wouldn't have reservations about returning to the Institute.

"This is your home, Alexander," Magnus says then, finally.

Alec smiles then, a real smile, and though it is still tired, it helps to relax something in Magnus' chest all the same.

"I know, but… it's not, not really. It's your home, and I appreciate you opening it up to me and letting me treat it like it is… but it's not. It's your space, I don't… want to intrude while you're trying to recover," he says, sad again now.

And Magnus thinks Alec is so sweet, and so sad, and so tired, and so god damn ridiculous. Always so god damn ridiculous.

(It's part of the Nephilim charm, truly, if it can be called that for anyone other than Alec.)

They have been together long enough now that Alec should know better, should know what Magnus will say in response, what he is feeling, where his heart and mind are. But Magnus will forgive him; he is sure his sleep deprived mind is forgetting things, and he is too pretty to not forgive, anyway.

"Alexander, how could I ever recover without you by my side? If you try to go to the Institute, I'll just have to follow you, and we both know that my bed is far more comfortable than yours is…"

"See! That right there!" Alec exclaims, completely ruining the sweet, thoughtful mood Magnus was trying to set. "Your bed is more comfortable than mine is. It isn't our bed, it's—"

"Alexander," Magnus interrupts, stern but loving and gentle. "If it's an issue of this loft not feeling like your home, then maybe we should go apartment hunting. Together," he suggests easily, without thinking.

It's not something he has given much thought—the loft, after all, has been Alec's home for as long as Magnus can remember now; it is hard for him to recall a time when Alexander didn't spend as much time there as Magnus does—but it makes sense. He doesn't want something as silly as this to get between them and their happiness. His home is with Alec, and if that means they need to find a new place they can call theirs, can call both of their homes… then so be it. Magnus is used to picking up and moving, and he has done it for sillier reasons than this, if there is any good reason to move, this is as good as it gets.

Alec's face lights up at the suggestion, though softens at the same time, and Magnus marvels over it. Just as he marvels over the way it feels when Alec moves a hand to cup the side of his face. Truly, Magnus can tell that this means the world to him and then some.

And now he is wondering why he hadn't made the suggestion sooner.

"Yeah?" Alec whispers, hopeful.

"Of course," Magnus replies in much the same tone.

And then Alec is leaning across the table, across their food, to kiss him, without another word, and it is enticing enough that Magnus is almost tempted to suggest they leave to start looking at places right this second.

"I love you," Alec sighs when he pulls away, some remnants of the food clinging to his already filthy shirt as he settles back in his seat.

"I love you, too," Magnus replies.

"I think we should go to bed now," Alec says then, stands up, and takes his shirt off.

Magnus raises an eyebrow at him as he drops the shirt to the ground, wipes at the dried blood and dirt clinging to his abdomen. And he is quite the sight like this, even carrying the badges of their long battle, shirtless and exposed and beautiful. He needs a bath, Magnus thinks absently. And he knows that Alec isn't a bath sort of person, but he needs one all the same. He thinks he can persuade Alec to have one with him later, if he plays his cards right, plays the right angle here.

"Not hungry anymore?" Magnus asks as he rises from his seat as well, reaches out for the hand Alec is offering him now.

"We can eat later," is all Alec says, pulling Magnus across the balcony and into the loft.

They fall into bed like that, with plans and ideas skittering across Magnus' mind, plotting themselves out and providing him with to-do lists for when they are well rested and healed up.

And Alec falls asleep the second they fall into bed together, looking peaceful and happy, and Magnus can't wait to make sure he falls alseep looking like that in a bed they can call theirs in an apartment or house they can call theirs every night.

But more than that, he is simply looking forward to making their lives one in every single way that they possibly can.