Chapter Text
September 2018
Two Years After the Angels’ First Championship
It took Magnus a step to realize Alec wasn’t walking with him anymore.
He came to a stop with Alec’s hand gradually slipping away from his, Alec’s fingers sliding across his palm. He turned to find his husband frozen to the spot and furrowed his brow, confused by the swift change to Alec’s demeanor.
Cars and bikes rushed by on the street beside them and the other pedestrians on the Midtown sidewalk flowed around them, Alec an island in the midst of a rolling ocean.
Magnus followed Alec’s gaze to the restaurant they stood in front of. They’d spent the last few hours walking around the city, eating and drinking their way through bars, cafes, and restaurants, stopping whenever something caught their attention.
Magnus wouldn’t be hungry for days to come. Alec, on the other hand, took down five times more food—quite literally—now that training camp was in full swing.
“Hungry again?” he tested.
Alec shook his head without meeting Magnus’ gaze, then he opened his mouth to speak but clamped it closed again just as quickly. Pain slashed across Alec’s features.
Magnus’ confusion deepened.
It had been a good day. No agenda or schedule, no practice, no work, and both of their cells switched off. Enough time had passed since the Angels’ championship for Alec to slide through the streets of New York City with a minimal ripple. They’d laughed and explored, following whims with no destination in mind and no end goal besides time with each other. It had been weeks since they’d last had a day like this—no, months—and it hadn’t been merely a good day, it had been extraordinary.
That is, apparently, until now.
Magnus had no idea why the sight of Nobu Fifty Seven—one of the city’s trendiest see-or-be-seen establishments—had left Alec speechless. Fortunate for him, they’d grown past the tentative inquiries of a fragile, new relationship long ago.
Magnus set his hand on Alec’s cheek. “What’s wrong?”
Alec’s eyes closed and a shiver rolled through him. When he grasped onto Magnus’ side, his fingers dug in as if Magnus was the only thing keeping him from collapsing. “I’m not hungry but… Could we go inside? You know, sit down?”
Worry overtook Magnus in an instant. “If you need to go home I’ll call—“
“It’s not— I don’t—“ Alec leaned into Magnus’ hand, placing a soft kiss on the inside of Magnus’ palm. When he finally met Magnus’ eyes, Magnus could see Alec’s steely on-ice resolve kicking in. “There’s something I need to do. Here. Now.”
Magnus didn’t understand what would need to be done here, let alone now. His answer was the same regardless.
“Whatever your heart desires, Alexander.”
****
The heaviness settling into Alec’s chest was too familiar. Which, honestly, shouldn’t have been a surprise since he’d spent more of his life living with it than without.
It went by many names—shame, fear, regret, despair… And anger. Anger coalesced in his bloodstream even as he and Magnus were whisked off to a table despite the packed restaurant and their lack of a reservation. It was the anger that anchored him to this specific moment in time instead of the shock that had initially sent him spiraling nine years into the past. Anger hadn’t become a static part of his existence until after—
Alec cut that thought off as he sank down into the chair across from Magnus. The numb spot in his left hand flared alive and his breathing shallowed out. Alec rocked forward and stationed his elbows on the table, seeking a solid foundation. He found it in the man across the table from him instead.
Without a word and with his gaze locked to Alec’s, Magnus waved away the descending waitstaff with a flick of his wrist.
“It’s okay, Magnus,” he tried. “We can order drinks.”
“I know I don’t say this often, but drinks can wait. You’re quite obviously not okay right now.” His tone gentled as he reached across the table for Alec’s hand. “And I’d like to know why.”
But Magnus wasn’t going to push any harder than that, that much Alec understood. Magnus never forced him to talk, which had set Alec at ease when they’d started dating two and a half years ago. It still had the same effect now.
He covered Magnus’ hand with both of his, thumb running over the smooth, wide band on Magnus’ ring finger. The movement dispelled the remnants of Alec’s anger and loosened the constricting of his chest. He’d worked hard to eliminate shame, fear, regret, despair, and anger from the darkest corners of his mind and there was no truer testament to the payoff of that work than Magnus himself.
If he’d met Magnus nine years ago, there would be no chance of them sitting here today.
He inhaled deeply before he began. “I’ve never told you about my first professional contract.”
“2009, an entry-level contract with Colorado just above league minimum that afforded time for development yet pushed you into the league quickly because of their lack of depth in the crease,” Magnus recited as if he was reading off the Wikipedia article of Alec’s career. “I have to assume there’s much more to the story, however.”
“I signed that contract here. At Nobu.”
Magnus raised an eyebrow. “Of course you did. Hodge was always looking for ways to increase his profile and there was no better place than Nobu for those desperately seeking validation in the late aughts.”
Alec huffed out a laugh. “I forget sometimes that you worked with Hodge and probably know him better than I ever did.”
“Mmm-hmm. Unfortunately.”
“I was excited about that contract,” Alec said next, that admission sitting heavy in his gut. “Excited and nervous. I wasn’t involved in the negotiation because there really wasn’t anything for me to negotiate. Colorado drafted me because they needed a younger goalie in their system and I wanted to keep playing—it was that simple. But I couldn’t help thinking ‘what if.’ What if this would be my big break? Where would I go from there? How was I going to deal with being that far away from Izzy and Max most of the year? I had to keep playing so I could take care of Izzy and Max if they needed anything, and for me…” Alec’s voice caught. “I could forget everything else when I was on the ice.”
Max’s accident and recovery, Raj, his sexuality, being disowned by his parents… He’d had a lot to forget then. He would’ve signed any contract that kept him playing.
“I’d never been to Nobu before,” he continued. “I remember walking in and being immediately intimidated. I had no money, none, and my off-the-rack suit would’ve sent you into cardiac arrest.”
Magnus smiled. “Isabel has graced me with many pictures from that time. I assure you, Alexander, your suit would’ve been the last thing I would’ve been looking at when you were twenty-one.”
Alec had to smile too. “Don’t be so sure about that. Jace likes to say I was like a baby deer growing up, but I was more like a baby giraffe. All gangly limbs that I didn’t learn to fully control until my third year as a pro.”
“So, you were an unsure twenty-one year old carrying the weight of the world on your shoulders and you were presented with a life-changing opportunity at one of the world’s most overhyped and overpriced restaurants. What happened next?”
“What happened next?” Alec laughed darkly. “Hodge glossed over the most important details of the contract and went directly to the morality clause. That’s what happened next.”
Magnus sucked in a breath. “You didn’t know then that Hodge was connected to your parents.”
“I didn’t. I had no clue how he’d found out I was gay and I refused to give him any kind of verbal confirmation, but I’m sure it was painted all over my face. It didn’t matter what I did or didn’t say, he knew. He lectured me about the expectations made clear in that contract… And the penalties if I was ever found out.”
“He welded your steel closet shut.”
“And I allowed him to do that when I signed the contract.” Magnus didn’t argue that, but Alec didn’t miss the restraint in his clenched jaw. “I know that you want to say it wasn’t my fault and that I had no other choice, but I did. I had the choice to walk away. I could have said no.”
If he’d known that signing that contract would lead to seven years of repression and denial, would he have made a different choice? Sadly, probably not. He’d been resigned to his fate even then.
“I’ve probably walked past this restaurant dozens of times since that day, but tonight… After spending today with you, without thinking twice about who saw us or overheard us… Realizing that I haven’t thought that way in years now…. The thing is, Magnus, I don’t have to imagine what my life would be like without you or without accepting who I am—I lived that life. And when I saw the Nobu sign tonight, I had this overwhelming feeling of…sorrow. I can’t explain it any other way. It was like I was right back in 2009—an unusually cool summer day, a violinist playing the last notes of Flight of the Bumblebee on the sidewalk out front, Hodge seated in the farthest corner so no one would overhear us, and he was wearing this, this—“
“This hideous blue suit with an absurdly skinny tie,” Magnus finished, his voice gone soft. Tentative. “A tie that had a tear at the edge that he’d attempted to cover with a gold clip but unbeknownst to him had slid down throughout the day, exposing the first of a litany of flaws. Most of them, may I add, just as poorly disguised.”
Alec froze. He’d stared at that fraying edge of that tie because he couldn’t meet Hodge’s eyes. But, “How did you know that?”
“Hold that thought, my dearest Alexander. I think those drinks just became mandatory.”
****
The universe behaved in strange, inexplicable ways. At most times, chaotic. A string of unrelated events with no form or purpose.
It was, however, at times like this precise moment, that Magnus understood that no matter how chaotic the universe attempted to be, some things… Well, some things were inevitable.
He thanked the server when they set his martini in front of him, then answered the question Alec had asked minutes ago. “I know what Hodge was wearing that night because I was here too.”
Alec blinked. “I’m sorry, what?”
“I was here,” he repeated. He gestured across the restaurant. “Well, technically, at the bar.”
“How could you possibly know that for sure?”
“Trust me, Alexander. I was.”
“Of course I trust you…” Alec waved a hand through the air. “But Magnus. I mean, what are the chances? Are you absolutely sure?”
“Hodge bought sake for the table, but when I saw him after you left your filled cup remained untouched. As did the water glass and the appetizers he likely plated for you and pushed across the table. Your glass of ginger ale, however, was nearly drained.”
Alec paled. “You were here.”
“I was here.”
“But you didn’t know—“
“That it was you at the table with him?” Magnus shook his head. “No. Not until you began describing the night.”
Alec fell back against his chair, stunned. “Wow.”
“Indeed.” Magnus was just as stunned. “When Hodge and I arrived, however, the violinist outside had just dove into the first frantic notes of Flight of the Bumblebee.”
“Are you telling me that we missed each other by minutes?”
“Considering the abbreviated length of that challenging piece, I believe it was less than a minute,” Magnus corrected. Alec swore under his breath. “But the reason I remember all of these details is because, well… That night was just as life-changing for me as it appears it was for you.”
Alec leaned forward again, focused intently. “Tell me.”
****
Magnus insisted on ordering food first—and a bottle of sake. While the menu at Nobu had changed in the last nine years, Alec listened as Magnus worked with the server to recreate the appetizers from the night of his contract signing, down to the minute details. It was a good thing Magnus had been there that night, because Alec was sure he wouldn’t be able to recall any of it. That is, until Magnus started talking with the server.
It made a hell of a lot more sense now why he had always avoided sushi rolls with tuna, anything containing shiitake mushrooms, and even a drizzle of lemon-ginger dressing. Apparently, he’d paid more attention to the food in front of him than he’d realized at the time.
And, now, Magnus was on a mission to rewire those painful connections.
“Am I forgetting anything, Alexander?”
“No ginger ale?”
“Do you need it?”
Nine years ago, he’d ordered that drink in a vain attempt to settle his stomach. As for tonight, “I don’t.”
That earned a smile from Magnus before he turned toward the waiter. “Then that will complete our order. Thank you.”
“So why were you at the bar instead of at the table with us?” Alec asked as soon as they were alone again.
“If you’ll remember, at that time I was a lackey at IE. I’d graduated law school, spent a few wholly ungratifying years in practice, then Imogen came calling. I, for lack of a better word, apprenticed under Hodge Starkweather when Imogen hired me on.”
“And he never treated you like an equal, let alone someone who is smarter, more visionary, genuinely confident, kinder, and—may I add—way better looking than him.”
Magnus smirked. “Your favorable assessment of me is appreciated, as are your astute observations of our incarcerated acquaintance. No. In short, he did not view me as equal.”
“So you weren’t allowed at the table.”
“He dismissed me the moment we walked into the restaurant.”
Alec ground his teeth together, his anger bubbling up again. Yes, Hodge was in jail. Yes, he’d been the one to finally turn against his boss, Valentine Morgenstern, and ensure both would be behind bars for years to come. And, okay, Alec may have never met Magnus if Hodge hadn’t been stealing from him in the first place. But how many people had Hodge crushed on his ego-centric rush to the top?
Alec had barely survived. While he hadn’t turned to drugs or alcohol to cope, he’d shut himself off from the rest of the world, buried himself in denial and shame, then battled thoughts of self-harm in the years after Max’s accident and his parents disowning him. Hodge’s poison had been like a slow death.
Alec’s anger bled away as realization washed over him—Magnus had been one of Hodge’s victims too.
“I know how that night changed me, Magnus.” Alec reached across the table and took Magnus’ hands in his. “Tell me how it changed you.”
“It, well…”
Then Magnus fell silent.
It wasn’t often that Magnus lost the ability to speak. Words made up a fraction of the ways he communicated, however. His Adam’s apple dipped below his collar on a deep swallow. Unshed tears pooled in his eyes as he held Alec’s gaze. His grip on Alec’s hands tightened painfully.
Alec’s heart broke.
“Jesus, Magnus. I’m sorry. I didn’t realize it was that bad. You really don’t have to—“
“No, no, no. You misunderstand me…”
“Then tell me, please.”
“Well”—another thick swallow—“it appears as if I’m only now understanding that it wasn’t Hodge who changed me that night, Alexander.” Magnus leaned in, drawing Alec in closer. “It was you.”
****
Magnus appreciated it when Alec sat back, giving him time and space to gather his composure as the servers descended on the table in a flurry. He appreciated it even more that Alec didn’t wince when plate after plate dropped onto the table, carrying with them the scents that catapulted both of them nine years into the past.
“You and I are going to have to find some way to work off all the extra calories we’ve packed in today,” Alec said. “Got any ideas?”
Magnus chuckled softly.
It appeared as if his plan to reform Alec’s painful associations from that night was working. He hadn’t anticipated that Alec would do the same for him. But the truth of that was glaringly obvious now.
“As I said before, I spent that evening at the bar,” Magnus began. “But what no one else knows is that I spent that time mentally composing my resignation letter.”
Alec froze with his fork halfway to his mouth. “You were going to quit.”
“On the spot,” Magnus confirmed. “Followed up by a formal letter and a clarifying conversation with Imogen, of course.”
“Why didn’t you then?”
“Well, this is where the story gets interesting.”
“You’re telling me that nine years ago you and I were in the exact same place with the exact same person yet we never met each other, and that’s not the interesting part?”
“That’s precisely what I’m saying.”
“You gotta keep going now.”
Magnus laughed, a genuine lightness beginning to flow through his veins. “I had an open tab courtesy of IE’s corporate card, no managerial oversight, and a desire to see the world end in flames because I could no longer envision what my future entailed. I think you can safely assume how I spent my time that night.”
“You drank.”
“More accurately, I decided to drink the most audacious and overpriced cocktails the bartender could create. I swiftly became her favorite customer.”
“That’s not a surprise. I don’t think I’ve ever seen you leave less than a thirty percent tip. In that kind of mood you were probably tipping in the seventy to a hundred percent range. The bartender probably fell in love with you.”
Magnus had to smile. “I’ll have to ask Jocelyn if that was the case.”
“Wait. Jocelyn Fray was your bartender? As in Clary’s mom?”
“While you and I didn’t have the occasion to meet that evening, Jocelyn and I became deeply acquainted with each other over gold-leaf cocktails and commiserating about our jobs. That night led to her becoming my first client.”
“Wow.”
“Indeed. That, however”—Magnus paused to take a sip from his drink—“is not the interesting part either.”
Alec groaned. “You’re killing me here, Magnus.”
Magnus suppressed a grin. “It took me a while to realize that Hodge’s client—you—had come and gone. I can’t be sure how long since Jocelyn was, and still is, quite engaging company. But once I did, I settled out my tab, downed my drink, and headed directly for Hodge’s table. A verbal flaying was on the tip of my tongue when I finally stood next to him, then he handed me an envelope.”
“My signed contract.”
“Correct. However, he didn’t merely hand over that envelope…”
“Shit. He told you about me.”
Magnus shook his head. No, Hodge had told Magnus much more about himself in the diatribe that followed.
“He lectured me about the client never knowing what they really needed or wanted. About how an agent had to uncover their clients’ weaknesses so they could be used as leverage when a prime money-making opportunity came around. ’Take, for example, this client,’ Hodge said. ‘He’ll never come out, he’s smart enough to know it will ruin his career. But I had to make him afraid enough that he won’t take stupid risks. Because I’m going to make a fortune off him.’“
Magnus paused, taking in the grimace on Alec’s face.
“Much as you appear now, I was stunned, sickened, and I felt this…fire growing in my veins that I couldn’t suppress. I didn’t quit, couldn’t. I dropped off that envelope at IE that same evening, refusing to open it, because the name contained inside was a person who deserved respect and privacy. Dignity. All of the things Hodge had denied them that night. But—and here is the part I’m still trying to comprehend, the interesting part…”
He gazed at Alec then, fully embracing the reality of just how much the man across the table had changed his life—even before they’d laid eyes on each other.
His memories of that night had been stained with a darkness and fury that throbbed like a fresh bruise every time he poked at them. But now…? Alec’s presence in those memories, unseen yet undeniable, soothed over the wound like a healing balm.
“When I handed the contract over to the legal department, I made a promise to the person named in that envelope that I would be an agent who listened to my clients and leveraged the weaknesses of the people I was negotiating against—not my clients’. I promised to be nothing like Hodge. I promised to do everything in my power to change the system. Alexander, I made that promise to you.”
****
Alec sucked in a breath. He couldn’t hold back the tears that gathered in his eyes when he looked at his husband, at the man who’d given him everything and asked for nothing in return. At the man who had changed the fates of generations of queer athletes and entertainers yet to come through sheer force of will, stubborn determination, and an undeniable magnetism.
He lifted Magnus’ hand and placed a soft kiss on the back. “You kept that promise.”
“If I’m remembering correctly, and I’m distinctly sure that I am, I did not afford you much respect or dignity when we first started working together.”
Alec smiled at the memory of their first wholly antagonistic encounters. “Yeah, well, I didn’t give you much to work with either. We eventually found our way there.”
“And, apparently, back to Nobu.”
Alec sat back then, his fingers still laced with Magnus’, the comfort of Magnus’ skin against his chasing away the last of the sorrow that had overtaken him on the sidewalk.
“You know, I can’t begin to imagine how things would’ve been different if we’d met each other that night. Or if you’d known my name. Or, hell, if I’d refused to sign the contract in the first place… ”
Magnus’ brow furrowed. “I suspect the outcome of any of those changes wouldn’t have been for the good.”
Alec hummed. “You’re probably right.”
“While it’s pleasant to think there may be an alternate universe out there where you and I have been together for the last nine years, I can’t see any other path besides the one we’ve already taken leading us to this moment.”
“And to the success we’ve both achieved.”
A mischievous grin tilted Magnus’ lips. “Although I am mildly curious about what would have happened if I’d given into my baser instincts that night and strangled Hodge with his torn tie.”
“It was a cheap tie,” Alec pointed out. “It probably would’ve fallen apart before you could successfully finish the job.”
Magnus’ laugh came fast, unguarded. He squeezed Alec’s hand once before letting go, then a graceful flourish as he pointed an accusatory finger at Alec. “And that is likely why the universe kept us apart for that length of time. You have never been as innocent as you wished to appear, Alexander. It’s just as probable there are alternate universes where you and I ended up as competing hitmen, Mafia enforcers of opposing families, or battling against each other in some grand showdown between the forces of heaven and hell.”
“Yeah, well, I’m one hundred percent sure you’ve seduced me in all of them.”
Magnus poured two cups of the warmed sake and handed one to Alec. He lifted his cup in a toast. “To us. I’m quite content with the timeline we currently occupy.”
Alec clinked his glass against his husband’s and smiled.
“To us. And a lifetime of promises kept.”