Chapter Text
“This is a customer announcement. Due to unforeseen circumstances, flight 323, heading to Bergamo airport, Milan, has been cancelled. All passengers for flight 323 must report to customer service, immediately, to await further instruction. I repeat, all passengers for flight 323, please report to customer service.”
Magnus Bane bobbed his head to the music blasting from his earbuds as he added several pleats to the design he was drawing. The skirt was cute before but pleats always added a timeless look to a garment in his opinion. And his opinion was worth a lot.
Or it would be - if the meeting he was headed to in Milan went as well as the ones in LA, London and Paris had gone.
Magnus, Junior Editor for Vogue and budding designer, was so engrossed in his latest design that he missed the announcement, something that he would later come to regret.
Or not.
An hour later, Magnus started adding a riot of colour to his design, hunched over his sketch pad, still bobbing his head to the blaring music that kept him focused. It drowned out everything around him, leaving him in his own bubble.
Unfortunately for him, Magnus didn’t hear the second announcement;
“This is a customer announcement. Will all remaining passengers for flight 323 please report to customer service. I repeat, all remaining passengers for flight 323, please report to customer service.”
Magnus didn’t hear it in English, and he didn’t hear the French repetition a few moments later.
It wasn’t until a hand tapped him on the shoulder thirty minutes later, that Magnus realised his folly.
“Excuse me?” Magnus asked, pulling his earbud out when he looked up from his sketch pad to see a pretty woman, clutching a jug of coffee, staring down at his design. Maia, he read when his eyes flicked to the nametag that adorned her plain black polo shirt.
“Sorry, I asked if you wanted a refill,” Maia asked, gesturing to the guy’s cold, forgotten coffee cup.
“Oh, thank you, my dear,” Magnus said, picking up the cup and draining the remains of his last cup. He grimaced at the taste of cold coffee but held his cup up dutifully for the refill.
“That’s gorgeous by the way,” Maia said, nodding at the design that the guy had been working on.
“Thanks. Hopefully, it will be part of my first collection. I’m a…” Magnus trailed off when an announcement drowned his words out.
“This is the final call for all remaining passengers for flight 323 . Please report to customer service, immediately.”
“Shit! That’s my flight!” Magnus yelled, whirling into action, quickly gathering his jacket, sketchpad and carry on. Leaping up from his chair, he didn’t see the jug of coffee coming for his pristine white shirt. Until he was wearing said jug of coffee.
“I’m so sorry!” Maia breathed, staring wide-eyed at the spreading coffee stain on the guy’s immaculate white shirt. Luckily, the coffee hadn’t been all that hot.
“I don’t have time,” Magnus said, batting Maia’s hands away when she yanked a cloth from her apron and proceeded to try and pat him down. Normally, he wouldn’t have been so rude but the French translation of the announcement rang loud in his ear.
“Sorry, it was actually my fault. I shouldn’t have been so clumsy,” Magnus said when he realized he was being an ass. “I’ll make it up to you next time I pass through, maybe you’d consider modelling my line?” he asked, backing away. The woman’s bone structure was flawless, her skin tone a work of art and her smile radiant.
“Sure, I’ll probably still be here,” Maia called to the stranger’s retreating back, silently adding, unfortunately.
Magnus ran faster than he had ever run in his life, needing to make his flight. Gripping his stuff tightly, losing an earbud along the way, he followed the signs for customer service, gasping for air by the time he reached the desk.
“Flight-flight 323 !” Magnus gasped to the redhead behind the glass partition, clutching the edge of the counter to hold himself up. “I didn’t realize you’d called my flight. Please say that the gate is still open?” he asked breathlessly, readjusting his grip on his jacket and sketch pad.
“Hi, my name is Clary. Which flight did you say?” Clary asked the dishevelled looking guy that had accosted her desk, fingers poised over the keyboard of her computer.
“ 323 to Milan?” Magnus said, already sliding his passport and boarding pass through the gap under the glass. This wasn’t his first rodeo. He was surprised to hear that the woman was American, considering she worked in a Parisian airport. Now that he came to think of it, Maia had been American too. Maybe the two women were friends?
“Oh, I’m so sorry, your flight was cancelled,” Clary said delicately, seeing the guys face drop. Magnus, she saw when she looked down at the passport in her hand. Magnus Bane, shit! “ And that isn’t the end of the bad news, Mr Bane. I’m afraid we… The airline that you are flying with lost your luggage,” she winced.
“What?!” Magnus asked, his luck going from bad to worse. “How did you lose my luggage?” he demanded, forgetting about his flight for a moment.
“When you came through departures this morning, you checked your luggage straight away, correct?” Clary asked, tapping away at her computer.
“Yes, I didn’t want to drag it all around Paris with me,” Magnus said, fisting his hand through his hair. “I was only stopping by for a meeting between flights,” he added.
Magnus had gotten off of his plane from London, checked his luggage and jumped in the first cab he’d found, to head to his meeting before returning to the airport to connect with his flight to Milan. He liked to think of his trip as a whirlwind worldwide tour.
“I’m afraid your luggage is back in London. We received a notification from Stanstead airport that your luggage, which still had your previous tag on it, had been returned to them. Whoever had loaded it into the cargo hold of the plane headed back to London had missed the BGY tag on it,” Clary explained.
“You have got to be joking?” Magnus fumed. How did they just put his suitcases on the wrong flight?
“I’m afraid not. The good news is that your luggage is on the next flight to Milan,” Clary said brightly. “The bad news is that you won’t be,” she added apologetically.
Clary breathed a sigh of relief when she looked over Mr Bane’s shoulder and saw a rep for his airline heading towards them, thankful that she didn’t have to deliver more bad news.
“This is your airline representative, Andrew Underhill. He will explain everything,” Clary said, gesturing to the man in question.
Magnus dumped his stuff on the counter and spun on the spot to see a suited and booted guy with short, curly blonde hair and a painted-on customer service smile heading towards him. He supposed the guy was cute, in a classic ‘blonde-haired, blue-eyed’ kind of way but he had always preferred dark and mysterious.
“Andrew, this is Mr Bane ,” Clary said when he reached them, drawing her thumb across her throat behind Magnus’ back. That was when she noticed the pretty sketches on Mr Bane’s sketchpad, looking them over with a critical eye. They were lovely, something she could see her girlfriend, Maia, wearing.
“Ah, Mr Bane. I am Andrew. You were one of the passengers bound for Milan, yes?” Andrew asked, looking down at the clipboard wedged in his arm when Magnus nodded. “Please follow me,” he said, gathering Mr Bane’s things up under his free arm before heading off, continuing when Magnus started to follow.
“Unfortunately, a passenger had to be removed from another flight when he turned violent. That plane was parked at your departure gate for too long, overlapping with your departure slot. We had no other choice but to reschedule the Milan flight for noon tomorrow,” Andrew explained as they made their way through the airport.
“I wonder why the passenger got violent?” Magnus asked sarcastically, contemplating violence himself. He had barely slept over the last few days from the number of flights he had taken, from New York to LA, to London, to Paris. Now they were telling him that he wouldn’t be flying until the next day. He doubted he would get any sleep on the hard airport benches.
“Is there nothing tonight?” Magnus asked as they weaved through the duty-free department, checking his watch. It was four in the afternoon, he had hours to kill. He was distracted momentarily when a pretty guy ran past them in the opposite direction at the speed of light, just catching a tantalizing glimpse of black hair and pretty hazel eyes, before the guy was gone.
Shame, he sure was a beauty, Magnus thought before Underhill’s reply caught his attention, realizing that Underhill had noticed Tall, Dark and Handsome too. He couldn’t blame the rep for looking over his shoulder, he was doing the same.
“Uh… N-no, I’m sorry. Charles de Gaulle is a very busy airport run on a tight schedule, noon tomorrow was the only available slot. We have arranged a hotel for everyone that was due to fly out, however. Everything is complimentary, of course, by way of apology,” Andrew said, getting a grip of himself, hoping to cheer the passenger up before he ended up with a fist in his face. The next piece of news would probably go down like a fart in a spacesuit.
“There is just one problem,” Andrew said, cutting Magnus off when he opened his mouth, holding a door open and gesturing for Magnus to proceed him down a quiet corridor. “We had been calling the passengers for your flight for almost two hours before you arrived. Space is limited… and there is only one room available,” he said, almost quietly.
“I only need one room,” Magnus said, suspicion creeping over him when Underhill gave him the fakest smile he had ever seen in his life.
“Yes… but… we’re still waiting for another passenger,” Andrew said, barely aware that he had taken a step back when the stopped outside their destination.
“You are not telling me that you cancelled my flight, lost my luggage, and are now sticking me in a room with a total stranger,” Magnus said through gritted teeth. As much as he loved a wild night with a complete stranger, who he would never have to see again if he didn’t want to, he was almost foaming at the mouth.
“There weren’t many options available to us,” Andrew said, handing Mr Bane’s belongings over. “Unfortunately, we had to hand out rooms on a ‘first-come, first-served’ basis. The only room we have left is a double,” he said, forcing a smile onto his face.
Magnus took a deep breath, hearing the implied, “you should have gotten here earlier” in Underhill’s reply. Now he was stuck not only sharing a room with a stranger, but also a bed.
“I take it the alcohol in here will be free?” Magnus asked, jerking his thumb in the direction of the VIP lounge that they were standing outside of.
“Absolutely. We will be picking up the bill for everything,” Andrew said, daring to let out a breath when he didn’t have to pick his teeth up from the floor. His pager beeping furiously had him pulling his cell out.
Magnus folded his arms over his chest, glaring at the rep while he made his call. He knew it wasn’t the guy’s fault personally but there was only so much a guy could take in the space of half an hour.
“That was customer service, our final passenger has arrived. Please avail yourself of the facilities while I collect them. I will arrange a car to take you both to your hotel. The other passengers have already gone on ahead,” Andrew said, opening the door and ushering Magnus inside before dashing off again.
Magnus stormed into the lounge and headed straight for the bar, pulling his cell out along the way. He had some damage control to take care of.
**
Alec Lightwood strolled into the VIP lounge that the blonde-haired rep had shown him to, processing the fact that he would be sleeping with a stranger that night. Nothing new there, he thought, dragging his cabin bag behind him, backpack slung over his shoulder.
Half of Alec was hoping for a woman, maybe someone like his sister who he could get drunk with, and bitch about the airline with. The other half of him was hoping for a hot guy that he could get drunk with, and bitch about the airline with. And maybe even fuck - if the guy was into it.
Alec scoped the lounge out as he approached the bar, wondering which of his fellow passengers he would be fuck… sharing a room with. There were five women and seven men in the lounge. Shrugging, he ordered a whiskey sour from some guy name-tagged as Simon and leaned back against the bar to scan the room again.
Alec sipped his drink, eyes landing on woman similar to his own age. She was yelling into her phone. He sincerely hoped it wouldn’t be her. Letting his gaze wander again, he checked out a short guy who was kind of cute but in a ‘might wake up to find him sucking your toes’ kind of way.
Next, Alec thought with a shudder. ‘Next’ turned out to be a gorgeous Asian guy, pacing up and down the lounge, cell pressed to his ear with one hand, the other wrapped around a whiskey tumbler, gesticulating with said hand to punctuate his conversation.
The guy is more than gorgeous , Alec thought, watching him scowl into his phone. Letting his eyes travel from the Gucci loafers the guy was wearing, up the gray slacks with a fine black chequered pattern that finished just above his ankles, over the Gucci belt that matched his shoes, and the white button-down that the guy was wearing, he declared him officially hot!
The button down might have some weird brown stain all over the front of it but there were at least four buttons undone from what Alec could see and the guy’s sleeves were rolled up. The flash of white hair in the guy’s floppy bangs and the dark outline of his pretty eyes were drool-worthy, as were the multitude of rings of necklaces that adorned the cute guy.
“I want that one,” Alec said, not realizing that he had said it out loud. He tossed his drink back, refusing to look away when the hot guy looked right at him, the guy pausing his conversation for a moment to meet his gaze before continuing.
Alec ordered another drink as he dug into his carry on and pulled a small digital camera out, one of many, surreptitiously snapping a candid shot of the hot guy when mistery man returned to his conversation with a wink. He snapped a few more pictures from different angles when the guy moved gracefully through the lounge.
Not in a creepy way, just in a ‘I want to look at him again when I have to leave for my hotel’ kind of way.
Alec could appreciate fine art.
Flicking through the images he had captured, Alec swigged his drink back and ordered another, staring at one image of his subject, at the way the guy’s head was tipped back, pretty, perfectly made-up eyes screwed shut, as though the guy was praying for patience.
He is fucking beautiful, Alec thought, eyes roving over the image of the guy's gorgeous golden skin tone, the muscular-looking body that strained the shirt around his arms and chest, the floppy bangs that he wanted to run his hands through.
“Simon, is it? Send that guy a refill of whatever he’s drinking,” Alec said to the barman when he looked up from his camera and noticed that the hot guy’s glass was now empty, before ordering himself a double. He needed it.
“Should I say who it is from?” Simon asked as he mixed the drinks, not that his customer was actually paying for the drink. But the recipient might still want to know.
“No, it’s fine,” Alec waved Simon away, leaning on the bar to sip his drink while Simon whisked a martini off to the beautiful stranger.
Setting his backpack on the bar, Alec sorted through the contents, ensuring that he had enough spare batteries for his cameras and that all of them were packed properly. He fished his cell out when it started ringing.
“My flight got cancelled,” Alec said as soon as he answered it, seeing his sister’s name flash on the screen.
“Bummer, what are you going to do?”
“The airline has booked me a hotel. But I have to share a room with one of the other passengers,” Alec replied, nodding briefly when the barman returned. An eye-roll of epic proportions strained his eyeballs when his sister replied, he could practically hear her grin.
“Please tell me it’s a guy and you’re going to bone him until the two of you can’t walk?”
“I don’t know. It could be a woman,” Alec said, nodding when Izzy made a sympathetic noise. “There are several people here, it could be any of them,” he said, once more sweeping the lounge, his eyes lingering on hot stuff who looked right back.
“Well ask them, find out.”
“You want me to announce to the VIP lounge that I will be spending the night in a bed with a total stranger?” Alec asked, raising his eyebrows when the barman stared at him. Rude, he thought, turning away from the eaves-dropping guy.
“VIP lounge, huh? Swanky… WAIT, DID YOU JUST SAY SHARING A BED?!”
Alec had to pull the phone away from his ear, sighing at the decibel Izzy had reached. His wince turned to mortification when his sister started yelling about how he was going to meet the love of his life.
“What are you doing?” Alec asked the barman who was scribbling furiously in a notepad when he looked up. Was the guy taking notes on him?
“I’m an aspiring writer, this was just too much of a good story to pass up,” Simon replied, shrugging when his customer stared at him. He didn’t put his notepad away but he greeted his boyfriend when Jace joined him behind the bar for his shift.
“Hey babe, this guy’s flight got cancelled and now he has to share a room with a stranger!” Simon crowed, leaning in when Jace’s hand found the small of his back.
“Sucks for you man,” Jace said to the guy who looked like he was about to lose his shit and kill everyone in the lounge. “Do you want a drink?” he asked to cheer the passenger up.
“Whiskey,” Alec gritted out, snatching the drink up off of the bar and turning away from the rubbernecking couple who thought his misfortune was some kind of soap opera. Just in time for Izzy’s ramblings to catch his attention once more.
“Mom, Luke, Lydia, Helen, Aline, Ollie, Sam, - Alec’s flight got cancelled and now he has to share a bed with a stranger. Alec, I’m putting you on speaker, tell them!”
“Izzy, stop,” Alec muttered into his phone, scrubbing his hand over his face when his step-dad started laughing a lung up, his mom shouted at him to use protection and his sister’s girlfriend and friends started squawking about romantic encounters in the background.
“Are you hosting the Butch Betty Brigade weekly meeting again?” Alec hissed spitefully into his cell, ignoring the squawks of protest that blared through his phone. Half of New York would know about his predicament when he got back, none of his sister’s friends could hold their own piss.
“We aren’t called the Butch Betty Brigade I’ve told you, we are the Lesbians Rights Association! And we are actually making a difference for the community, what are you doing?”
“Me? I’m drinking my free whiskey in the free VIP lounge before I go to my free five-star hotel. Later, loser,” Alec said, hanging up on his sister’s outrage. For all he knew, he was staying in a flea-bitten motel but Izzy didn’t have to know that.
Alec’s head snapped up when he opened his eyes to find a pair of Gucci loafers, and their owner, standing right next to him.
“The Butch Betty Brigade? This I’ve got to hear,” Magnus said to Tall Dark and Handsome, holding his glass out to the blonde barman for a drink. “Sorry, I wanted a refill and couldn’t help overhearing. I’m Magnus, is this seat taken?” he asked, pulling a chair out when the guy gestured to it.
Magnus had managed to reschedule his meeting, thankfully. Not that his boss hadn’t chewed his ass out. As if it was his fault. Catarina had been sympathetic, as usual. Ragnor had laughed at his plight, as usual. And Raphael had warned him to keep a weapon under his pillow in case he was lumbered with a serial killer. Cheerful!
“Alec. It’s all yours,” Alec said, draining his glass when his throat suddenly turned dry, holding his glass out too. He completely missed the way the blonde barman rolled his eyes and the brunette started scribbling even more furiously in his notebook, too enchanted by the graceful way Magnus sat down.
“So, the Butch Betty Brigade?” Magnus prompted when they both had a drink, fascinated by the way Alec’s long fingers wrapped around the glass before his eyes flicked up to see Alec’s tongue sweep over his bottom lip.
“They aren’t really called that, I just say it to aggravate my sister when she annoys me. I’d finish anyone else if they called them that, they are an awesome bunch of women,” Alec said, looking Magnus over as much as Magnus was checking him out.
Alec actually had a lot of respect for his sister and her organization, and the work they did, he just knew how to press her buttons. He continued when Magnus quirked an eyebrow.
“My sister, Izzy, and her girlfriend, Lydia, run an organisation back in New York called the Lesbians Rights Association. They provide…”
“I’ve heard of them. They raise awareness for issues that affect the LGBTQ+ community and provide services for Lesbian and queer youth groups back home. I’ve donated a few times at some of their fundraisers,” Magnus interjected. Alec was becoming more and more intriguing by the second.
“You’re from New York?” Alec asked, thinking that maybe his day was turning around. He leaned back in his chair, appraising Magnus further, feeling a little loose from the alcohol he was consuming. His sister would be intrigued if she knew he had met one of her patrons in Paris.
“Brooklyn. You?” Magnus asked with a smile. He knew when someone was checking him out. And the beautiful hazel eyes didn’t miss an inch.
“Manhattan,” Alec replied, eyeing the tantalizing glimpse of smoothe golden chest where Magnus’ shirt was open.
“Are you staring at my chest, Alec?” Magnus asked, his eyes sparkling with mirth. The guy was going for a full-on titty stare. “My eyes are up here,” he grinned when Alec’s head snapped up.
“What? No, I was wondering what happened to your shirt,” Alec said, gesturing to the big brown stain, gripping onto the excuse. That was his story and he was sticking to it.
“I had an unfortunate run in with a waitress back in the food court. She spilt a jug of coffee all over me,” Magnus said, not buying Alec’s excuse for a moment. His eyebrow shot up when the brunette barman piped up.
“That would be Maia,” Simon said absentmindedly, pen flying across his paper in case he missed anything. He looked up when he realised that he had said it out loud.
“A friend of yours?” Magnus asked the barman, biting into his lip to stop from laughing at the incredulous expression on Alec’s face. He reached into his back pocket and pulled his wallet out, sliding a business card out of it and handing it to the barman. “Can you give this to her? Tell her it’s from coffee guy and to give me a call about my offer, she’ll know what it means,” he said.
“Unbelievable,” Alec muttered under his breath, gawping at the barman. The guy wasn’t fazed at all about listening in, and by the looks of it, recording word for word the conversation of two strangers.
“Why don’t you just change into something else?” Alec asked when Magnus gave him his full attention again. He’d noticed some of the other occupants of the lounge giving Magnus funny looks, guessing that VIP members didn’t usually walk around wearing stained clothes.
“My airline lost my luggage,” Magnus said with a frown, remembering that he was currently out of clothing options. “They sent it to London and I have everything I could possibly need in my carry on, except for clothing,” he said, shaking his head at himself.
“I could lend you something if you like?” Alec offered, gesturing to his cabin bag. This was why he didn’t bother checking luggage, preferring to travel light. The stain still looked damp, which couldn’t be comfortable. “I don’t have anything as nice as what you’re wearing but you’re more than welcome to borrow something?”
“And how would I give it back to you?” Magnus asked coyly, half amused, half swooning over the guy’s chivalry.
“Call it a gift then,” Alec said, climbing down off of his stool to open his small wheely case on the floor. “Or I could give you my home address? Call it an open invitation to drop it off whenever you like?” he said, winking when Magnus laughed.
Magnus had to chuckle, watching Alec start digging through his stuff. There was no shame in Alec’s game, something that he appreciated greatly.
Alec dug a white t-shirt out, one which had a few holes in, unsure of whether it was a better option than Magnus’ stained shirt. Are holes better than stains? He wondered. At least it was clean. He had intended to wear it under a sweater where nobody would be able to see.
“Sorry, I only brought one decent outfit with me and I need that. The rest is just travelling gear,” Alec said, handing the t-shirt over. He never brought his nice clothes out on the road with him, they would only get wrecked.
“How do you fit everything you need into there?” Magnus asked, taking the offered shirt when Alec zipped his luggage up. The tiny suitcase was packed to bursting. Maybe he could get some tips on how to travel light?
“I'm good at packing large loads into small spaces,” Alec said, grinning when Magnus snorted, along with the two barmen that were still watching them avidly between serving the other passengers.
“Hm, I bet you are,” Magnus said, his eyes darting to Alec’s crotch when Alec stood up. Maybe he imagined it but Alec seemed to pause, letting him look before the guy resumed his seat.
“Do you mind if I spruce this up a little?” Magnus asked, shaking himself off as he gestured to the shirt. It was a plain t-shirt but it had a few holes in it, not that he was complaining. It was better than his stains. He just knew that he could do something with it.
“Sure, spruce away. Maybe our audience wouldn’t mind getting us a refill while you do?” Alec said, looking pointedly at Simon and Jace.
“So, if I may so bold as to ask, what’s with the cameras?” Magnus asked, setting his carry on bag on the bar to dig a few supplies out. He had noticed them when he had approached the bar.
“I’m a photographer,” Alec answered, watching Magnus transform the boring white t-shirt he’d given him.
“Cool, would I have seen your work anywhere?” Magnus asked, rolling the sleeves up until they were capped, securing them with a couple of small safety pins before ripping a few more artfully placed holes to the material. Taking a pack of larger, colourfull safety pins out of his bag, he ran them through the holes to hold the material together before taking a marker pen out of his bag.
“Sure, if you read Vogue,” Alec said, watching Magnus write something that he couldn’t quite see on the t-shirt.
“Vogue?” Magnus asked, his head snapping up to stare at Alec.
“The magazine? I’m a fashion photographer. Most of my work is featured in Vogue,” Alec replied, raising an eyebrow at the expression on Magnus’ face.
“Sure, I’ve heard of it,” Magnus said sardonically, a small smile playing at the corner of his lips before realisation hit. “You’re Alexander Lightwood,” he said.
“Yeah…?” Alec said, confusion reigning supreme, wondering how Magnus knew his name.
“Magnus Bane, Junior Editor of Vogue magazine,” Magnus chuckled, holding out his hand to shake Alec’s. “It’s a small world, Alexander,” he said when Alec took it.
“No shit?” Alec said none too elegantly, shaking the hand of the man who signed off on his paycheck. Technically. They had never met face to face but Magnus signed off on his photos, which in turn meant that he received a paycheck. He had wondered why the name Magnus had seemed vaguely familiar, it wasn’t as if the name was common.
“Nice to put a face to a name,” Magnus said, his hand lingering in Alec’s, only letting go when two glasses were placed in front of them. He shook himself off, threw a mouthful of the martini back and stripped his stained shirt off having completed his new t-shirt.
“Fuck!” Alec muttered, staring at Magnus’ body when the guy started stripping. He was wondering if he had any bills in his pocket to tuck into the waistband of Magnus’ pants as his eyes flicked over every muscle, vein and dimple. So fucking hot! His brain screamed at him.
Magnus turned on the spot slightly when he caught Alec staring, giving the guy a good view of his back and ass too before shrugging the t-shirt on, laughing when Alec actually made a disappointed noise. “See something you like?” he asked, pulling the shirt over his stomach and tucking the front of it into his pants. When in France, do the French tuck, he thought.
“Don’t act like you don’t know what you’ve got,” Alec snorted, eyes roving over the skintight shirt that now showed Magnus’ muscular arms off to perfection with the capped sleeves.
Alec didn’t feel any embarrassment or fear saying the words. Magnus was either a member of the LGBTQ+ community or a straight man who was comfortable enough with his masculinity to wear makeup and nail polish. His gaydar was usually spot on though. He was petty sure, from the flirting that Magnus was no straight man.
Alec burst into laughter when he saw what Magnus had written on the t-shirt, clutching Magnus’ arm for support to keep him upright. Magnus had scrawled the words ‘My eyes are up here’ in bold but elegant handwriting, with an arrow pointing up.
“I thought it had a certain ring to it,” Magnus chuckled, not complaining one bit that Alec didn’t let go of his arm. He met Alec’s gaze over the rim of his glass as he drained it, watching Alec’s tongue sweep over his bottom lip again. He wondered what that lip tasted like, seriously considering leaning over and stealing a kiss to find out.
Before someone clearing their throat interrupted the moment.
Magnus looked up to find that Underhill had returned, disappointment flooding him. He found that he didn’t want to leave, all of a sudden. He’d much prefer getting to know Alec a little better.
Alec wanted to kick his rep in the nuts when he looked away from Magnus to find the guy standing there, watching them. How was he supposed to ask Magnus for his number with an audience? He was positive Magnus felt the same connection that he felt and it would be a crying shame to end their interactions here.
“Ah, Mr Lightwood, Mr Bane. I see you’ve each met your roommate for the night,” Underhill said, smiling when the two men’s heads simultaneously snapped up to stare at him. “Come along, the car is waiting to take you to your hotel,” he said, turning on his heel to lead the way.
“Fuck,” Magnus muttered, gaping at Alec.
“Shit,” Alec mumbled under his breath, staring wide-eyed at his bedfellow for the night.
“Come on!” Jace grumbled, throwing his hands up in the air. “It was just getting interesting.”
“Wait, it can’t end like this!” Simon blurted out at the same time.
Simon watched Alec and Magnus gather their belongings, both of them stealing glances at each other before his story walked out of the door.