Magnus has only been unconscious for four hours or so by 7 am, and if the world was a fair and just place, he'd stay that way for another four. Alas, he finds himself drifting back to the waking world far earlier than that. When he opens his eyes, the light isn't early morning, but it's still morning. He stares at the ceiling with a faint frown, trying to remember his dreams, and then his face softens as he does remember that Alec had been in them. And really, what else does he need to remember?
Thinking of Alec always softens him. The two of them as a them has moved on from the brand-new stage, there's something comfortable about it now, but Alec is still needed at the Institute often enough that he's only stayed the night through a handful of times. And Magnus doesn't mind, he thinks as he rolls onto his back, spread-eagled across the bed beneath the mounds of covers. He doesn't want Alec to need to choose. Alec knows he's welcome any time, and he closes his eyes and smiles at the memory of his face when Magnus had tossed him two glitter-coated keys on a ring. It hadn't been ceremonial, he hadn't wanted Alec to feel as if Magnus was putting him on the spot or asking for some kind of commitment he wasn't ready for yet. It may have only made it more obvious; Magnus is never casual.
But the keys hang right next to the array of keys Alec carries for Institute things now, and neither of them had needed to feel uncomfortable about the gift. Magnus is willing to call that a win in his crusade to keep Alec comfortable. Relationships take work, but the bigger challenge is ensuring that this relationship (and their vastly diverse experience levels) doesn't move too abruptly in one direction or the other. Slow and steady, he's told himself. It's been his opportunity to work on that patience virtue he's sometimes neglected over the years. Which is a good thing. Certainly. Even when he watches the way Alec is treated by the higher-ups at the Clave (absolutely including his own parents) and a part of him burns to just take him away from all their bureaucratic traditions and infighting.
Even when Alec isn't here, Magnus thinks about him. Sometimes he thinks he can hear his voice when... Magnus opens his eyes again and shifts onto his elbows as a stray breeze brings him faint sounds from the patio. He is hearing his voice. But who is Alec talking to? What time does anyone call this?
With a resigned sigh, Magnus slithers to the edge of the bed and wraps himself in a rather sedate deep blue embroidered dressing gown. When he moves into the sitting room he can see Alec sitting on a chair with his back to the door, surrounded by cats, and in fact talking to the cats. Alec is talking to his cats. And they're all listening intently, which makes Magnus come to a halt in the shadows, curious despite himself about what's so engrossing that even Church is perched nearby with a paw on Alec's arm.
/writes the other half
Thinking of Alec always softens him. The two of them as a them has moved on from the brand-new stage, there's something comfortable about it now, but Alec is still needed at the Institute often enough that he's only stayed the night through a handful of times. And Magnus doesn't mind, he thinks as he rolls onto his back, spread-eagled across the bed beneath the mounds of covers. He doesn't want Alec to need to choose. Alec knows he's welcome any time, and he closes his eyes and smiles at the memory of his face when Magnus had tossed him two glitter-coated keys on a ring. It hadn't been ceremonial, he hadn't wanted Alec to feel as if Magnus was putting him on the spot or asking for some kind of commitment he wasn't ready for yet. It may have only made it more obvious; Magnus is never casual.
But the keys hang right next to the array of keys Alec carries for Institute things now, and neither of them had needed to feel uncomfortable about the gift. Magnus is willing to call that a win in his crusade to keep Alec comfortable. Relationships take work, but the bigger challenge is ensuring that this relationship (and their vastly diverse experience levels) doesn't move too abruptly in one direction or the other. Slow and steady, he's told himself. It's been his opportunity to work on that patience virtue he's sometimes neglected over the years. Which is a good thing. Certainly. Even when he watches the way Alec is treated by the higher-ups at the Clave (absolutely including his own parents) and a part of him burns to just take him away from all their bureaucratic traditions and infighting.
Even when Alec isn't here, Magnus thinks about him. Sometimes he thinks he can hear his voice when... Magnus opens his eyes again and shifts onto his elbows as a stray breeze brings him faint sounds from the patio. He is hearing his voice. But who is Alec talking to? What time does anyone call this?
With a resigned sigh, Magnus slithers to the edge of the bed and wraps himself in a rather sedate deep blue embroidered dressing gown. When he moves into the sitting room he can see Alec sitting on a chair with his back to the door, surrounded by cats, and in fact talking to the cats. Alec is talking to his cats. And they're all listening intently, which makes Magnus come to a halt in the shadows, curious despite himself about what's so engrossing that even Church is perched nearby with a paw on Alec's arm.