This was inspired by a bit from the song Asking For A Friend by Devin Dawson.

The Luckiest Man

It's Friday night and you're beautiful, so beautiful
What man wouldn't think you were the love of his life
He'd be a fool, he'd be a fool
I don't mean to ramble on like this


Alec was sure he was staring much too intently at Magnus, but he didn't think he could help it, not this time of morning, not with his eyes drooping as they were from lack of sleep, not with his mind hazy, body heavy with every breath he took. They were meant to be doing research, he knew, and Magnus was still faithfully flipping through a book at his desk, eyes intent on the pages, flicking through like it was nothing. His eyeliner was smudged, and that made it hard for Alec to tell whether or not the darkness under his eyes was from sleep deprivation, the eyeliner, shadows the morning light was casting over him, or all of the above.

He didn't think it mattered, when he thought about it for a moment longer. It still gave Magnus a certain kind of Look that Alec could hardly tear his eyes away from.

Alec was sprawled out on the couch, book on the floor next to him; he had been reading it not too long ago, he swore, but he had found himself falling asleep on the couch—laying down hadn't been his smartest move to date, but he was exhausted and it was comfortable, so he had allowed himself to risk falling asleep if it meant laying down for just a couple minutes—and had torn his attention away from the pages to look around for his stele. It was either coffee or his stamina rune if he wanted to avoid sleep completely, and, at this point, the rune seemed the better option, but, of course, he had left the stele laying around somewhere or another. In a more awake state, he would remember exactly where it was, but, well, as it was he was lucky to even remember his stele was in the same building as him.

When he had scanned the room and had been unable to find the object in question, his eyes had fallen to Magnus instead, and they had been stuck on him ever since. He could hardly help but stare at the warlock when he had all his wits and senses about him; when he was exhausted, it was all the worse, in fact, all his self control gone and leaving in its place a puddle of mush that could sometimes only seem to remember Magnus' name.

(Shadowhunter who? Institute what?)

He couldn't say how long he had been staring at his boyfriend, or why the warlock had yet to notice it, or say anything about it if he had noticed it already, but it had probably been longer than he thought, as he had watched the shadow that had been cloaking Magnus' face fade into a golden glow instead, and it took him some moments to realize that it was just the sunrise peeking through the windows and not some angelic glow that had inexplicably begun to shine through Magnus' perfectly crafted facade.

He wouldn't be surprised, he thought some days, if Magnus revealed himself to be part Nephilim instead of demon; he embodied all that angels were meant to be: Beautiful of face, of mind, of heart, and pure as the air they breathed. Magnus looked like he fell from heaven, and Alec felt like he'd clawed his way through hell to get to the fallen angel, to find him, to earn his heart.

And Alec didn't deserve him.

"Angel?" Magnus said softly, eyes finally off the book and on Alec's face instead, as if he had sensed Alec's change in mood and thought, attuned as he was to Alec.

His stomach flipped at the pet name, and he wanted to shake his head, but the couch cushion beneath him prevented him from doing as much.

He could have cried, he realized as he looked at Magnus just then, their eyes locked, Magnus unblinking, his face the perfect picture of concern. The flipping in his stomach crept up and turned into a pang in his heart, a lump in his throat. And he knew he was being an idiot, knew there was no good reason to be getting so emotional and all he needed to quell it was some fucking sleep, God damnit.

But just because he knew that didn't mean he was going to take it to heart, not in the state he was currently in.

"Are you alright?" Magnus asked when Alec did not reply to the name.

Alec sat up at that, and felt the world spin slightly as he did, felt the blood rush from his head, and then he did shake his head, still looking at Magnus.


"You're just," Alec interrupted, still struck by how Magnus looked in this light. And he wanted a picture, he thought, but his phone was with his stele, and he didn't know where that was, so he didn't know where his phone was either. And he was all the more sullen that this moment would exist only in his mind forever more; if anything deserved to exist in the world forever, it was how Magnus looked basking in the sunrise like that, tired and disheveled and...

"... you're so fucking beautiful," he breathed finally, letting out a breath with the word that he thought came into existence just for that moment, just for Magnus.

The warlock's eyes softened at that declaration, and he looked equal parts amused and in love, and Alec was not surprised by either of those things.

"You're beautiful," Alec repeated, feeling his eyes prickle with tears, God damnit. "And I don't think I deserve you. You're the love of my life, and I don't deserve even a fraction of you, and the fact that no one else has ever considered you the love of their life is a God damn travesty, and I hope, if there is an afterlife, every one of those unlucky bastards is looking down—or up—and realizing how much they missed out on. Because you're beautiful, Magnus Bane, and I love you. I just…" he swallowed, overwhelmed by it all, by how much Magnus was encompassing his entire being just then, taking up all the room he had in his heart, his mind, and then some. And overwhelmed, still, by how much more he wanted to give to Magnus. He wanted Magnus to have everything that he could give him, and then some, and even that would never be enough.

He wondered if this was what it was like to be driven mad by love, and why he was so alright with it, if it was.

"You Nephilim," Magnus sighed, wiping at the corner of his eyes carefully, smudging his eyeliner all the more despite his care. "Don't know how to love with anything less than your entire being," he said, standing from the desk to make his way over to the couch next to Alec. "And it makes you the most pure beings that exist. Dangerous, and stupid sometimes, but it's… honorable, I think, to love so much, to give so much of yourself over to someone. Anyone who you decide is the love of your life," he smiled, reaching a hand out to cup Alec's cheek, and Alec realized then that he had been absolutely aching for Magnus to touch him, had been craving it in a way that he had never felt before, somehow. "Is the luckiest person alive," he finished, leaning in to brush his lips delicately against Alec's.

"If you think that," Alec began, chasing after Magnus' lips when the other pulled back, catching him in a longer, lingering kiss before he continued. "Then you clearly don't know what it feels like to be loved by you; every day I wake up next to you thinking I'm the luckiest—" the rest of his sentence was, unfortunately, cut off by Magnus surging back forward to kiss him again, and Alec knew the other knew what he was going to say, knew the sentiment was returned a million times over, and knew this conversation was going to keep going around and around and around with them saying sappy, sentimental things that left them both emotional wrecks in each other's arms.

And he knew, and Magnus knew, that they were both already far too exhausted for that tonight—this morning—whichever it was. They had no sleep, no energy, and no answers for the issue at hand to tide them over; it was really probably for the best that Magnus cut him off with a kiss that knocked him over on the couch and he landed with the other on top of him, bodies pressing together warmly, familiarly, safely.

"I would say let me take you to bed," Magnus whispered, settling into place on Alec's chest after he pulled away from the kiss. Alec couldn't help the tired, easy grin that formed its way into place on his face as he shifted on the couch into a slightly more comfortable position, Magnus' weight a comfort on him itself. "But I think it's a bit too late to disentangle ourselves from our particular predicament. I think it's truly for the better if we just… stay here. Just like this," he finished, and there was amusement shining behind his eyes but sincerity as well, a familiar look of love that fell over Alec like a blanket as his eyes began to slip closed, barely giving him the chance to revel in the closeness he and Magnus were sharing just then.

"Think you might be right," Alec murmured in response, feeling Magnus lay his head just in the crook of his neck, press idle kisses and whisper still nothings into the skin there.

His arm came up to wrap around the warlock, holding him impossibly close as they drifted off to sleep, each of them considering themselves the luckiest man in existence as they did so.