Chapter Text
The moment Alec stepped back through the inconspicuous black door into the hallway lined with bookshelves he felt the weight of the week lift from his chest, as though suddenly he could breathe again. He’d only been to Bookend Cafe once before but there was something about the smell of old books and coffee that was more potent than any anti-anxiety tablet known to man. Too bad for the rest of the world that Alec had zero inclination to share this paradise with anyone except Magnus. Even thinking his name, Alec could feel anticipation thrumming in his veins as his heart-rate kicked up and his lips curved into a smile. Now that he’s here, there isn’t a single doubt in his mind that this is what he wants or that Magnus makes him happy.
As Alec reaches the end of the hall, his eyes automatically find the reading nook they occupied last time but he stops moving towards it when he realises it’s already occupied and that person is definitely not Magnus. Dismissing the thoroughly ordinary middle-aged man and his leatherbound Tolstoy after the briefest glance, Alec scans the rest of the cafe and is surprised to realise that this time he must have beaten Magnus here. Wanting to retain a good vantage point of the entrance, Alec weighs up the available options, noting how different each space is and wondering vaguely how they managed to find such different furniture that all looked incredibly comfortable. Although the two squashy armchairs would probably make more sense, Alec finds himself heading for a slightly larger nook with a couch and a single armchair opposite instead. Settling himself on the far side of the couch closest to the shelves, he leaves it for Magnus to choose whether to join him at the other end or sink into the plush chair across from him. Alec can’t help examining the bookshelves beside him and is drawn like a magnet to a modern volume squeezed between two classics. Amazed to see they’ve already got a copy of Atticus’ new poetry collection ‘The Dark Between Stars’, he slipped it out, gently easing pages apart, hyper-aware of the book’s pristine spine. Magnus must be almost here but he’s been dying to read it. It’s on his list for this month’s trip to his favourite bookshop but right now he doesn’t care about ruining the joy of starting his own copy. Alec’s usually a master of resisting temptation but with the soft warm glow of the perfect reading lamp beside him, a comfortable couch and time to spare, he’s all out of reasons to hold back.
“My atoms love your atoms. It’s chemistry.”
Alec started, almost dropping the book he’d gotten lost in at the sound of Magnus’ voice, soft and close beside him, saying such incredible things. His heart beat erratically as Magnus chose to sit at the other end of the couch, folding his leg up and turning to face Alec - leaving barely a handspan between their knees as they faced one another.
“You’re familiar with Atticus’ poetry?” Alec asks, forsaking greetings for the much more urgent task of knowing whether Magnus had been intentionally quoting ‘Love Her Wild’ or had come up with that particular sentence all on his own.
“Clary left that quote on my smartboard one morning with his Instagram account and by lunchtime, I’d already fallen so deep into his posts that I decided I needed to order a copy of ‘Love Her Wild’ off Amazon so that it’d be there by the time I got home. I’ve been amazed how often I hear snatches of his work and other Instapoets quoted by students.”
While a small part of Alec is crushed those words weren’t meant for him, the dominant voice in his head is shouting at him that he should just propose now because Magnus, who is already perfect, also reads poetry. Alec licked suddenly dry lips, feeling words coiling inside him, an idea forming, a chance he wanted to take.
“Hold that thought, Alexander, while I go order for us. I have the feeling that whatever it is, it deserves my complete attention and not a mind that’s been hanging out for chocolate, cocktails and a quiet evening with you since nine this morning.”
Alec laughed, ducking his head as the blood rushed from his heart to his cheeks and a smile tugged at his lips. He wasn’t used to people who wanted to listen, or people who seemed to hear him, even when he hasn’t said a word. But he wanted to be; wanted this, wanted him .
“What’s your elixir of choice tonight?” Magnus asked, smiling back as Alec looked up at him through shaded lashes, half-hoping, half-fearing he was deaf to the answer on the tip of his tongue: ‘ You’.
“An espresso martini,” Alec said, wondering if that answer was almost as telling of the direction his thoughts had just gone. Adding a, “Thank you,” when Magnus waved away his move to pull out his wallet.
Determined not to cave in to the temptation to spend the entire time Magnus was gone staring at him, Alec turned his attention back to the shelves, hoping that having already found one diamond in their section, it might also grant him another.
* * *
“Now, where were we?” Magnus asked, holding out a martini glass for Alec to take as he settled himself back onto the couch beside him. “Ah yes, Atticus, a man in love who, like me, believes ‘ adventures run on all kinds of whiskey .’ Although, right now, I must say I’m far more partial to martinis.”
As a literature teacher, Alec could wonder if Magnus was intentionally contrasting Atticus’ frequent references to whiskey-sipping girls and the two men currently trading smiles over espresso martinis. As a man already half in love, he wasn’t sure his heart could cope with the fact that an eidetic memory meant an infinite capacity to learn and recite poetry. But it also created the potential for no allusion to be too subtle once he was familiar with the source, a fact that could make his plan to keep lending Magnus his favourite books a tenuous form of torture or bliss.
Perhaps taking his momentary silence for reluctance to return to the previous conversation, Magnus lent a little closer, his tone conspiratorial. “We could also put off our discussion of poetry for another time, or even just until I can ply you with hand-dipped chocolate strawberries in repayment for having made you wait when it seemed like there was a world of ideas on the tip of your tongue.”
Alec silently damned Magnus for putting the image of his large, elegant hands holding out sweet mouthfuls for him to sink his teeth into back in the front of his mind. Feeling the blush he’d successfully fought off creeping back up his neck, Alec decided that a distraction was exactly what he needed and, as it was the other man’s mind as much as his body that he admired, he was eager to get his opinion on the idea that had occurred to him earlier.
“Remember how Lydia asked me if I’d contribute to another one of your sessions?” Alec asked, wetting his lips and steeling himself to continue as the tension coiled tighter within him again. “How would you feel if I said I wanted to expand it, make it more of a collaboration?”
Alec felt the breath he’d been holding rush out as Magnus’ face lit up when it so easily could have closed down.
“I’d be delighted, Alexander! Unless of course, that means I’ll have to compete with Lydia for your attention, in which case,” Magnus paused, his smile turning dangerous, “I reserve the right to send Izzy in to distract her while I whisk you back here where I can have you all to myself.”
Alec laughed, unable to hold Magnus’ gaze in case he saw just how much that suggestion affected him or how much he hopes those jesting words reflect feelings that run deeper than the friendship they’re building. Although the idea of Magnus and Izzy colluding is a little terrifying.
“The thing is, you, Lydia and I are all involved in writing the course material for the mini-electives we offer at the end of grade 8 to help them choose their specialised subjects in the higher grades. What if we could link some of the content of those subjects to the themes and information in the All of Us program?” Alec took courage from the way Magnus’ eyes lit up at the suggestion, deciding to lay out the first half of his idea in greater detail rather than just the headline he’d initially been planning. “You see, I’ve already got approval to teach modern poetry - like Atticus, Rupi Kaur, Courtney Peppernell and Nikita Gill - for two of the sessions in the Literature subject because we know it resonates with these kids in a way that twentieth-century poetry never will. I thought, given the themes of their work, I could tie it in with a discussion around the different types of love and how to recognise the difference between healthy and unhealthy relationships. I was kind of hoping you and Lydia might be willing to help select and curate the books and passages used when we compare how those same themes are written about in prose by young-adult writers from across the spectrum of sexualities in the other three sessions.”
“That’s an incredible idea, Alec. Lydia and I have spoken before about how we wished we could find a way to wrap up and connect everything they learn this year to the rest of their school work after the official All of Us program finishes. I know I can speak for both of us when I say we’d love to be part of that process.”
“Thanks. It - um - still needs a lot of work and there is a stack of new young adult novels I want to read before putting forward a shortlist - not to mention reading any recommendations you and Lydia have but, it means a lot to me that you want to.”
“Of course! Perhaps we can even read some of the ones you’ve already got in mind together, make Friday nights here a weekly fixture,” Magnus said, his fingers toying with his intricate silver earcuff in a way that belied the confidence of those words.
Alec’s mouth dropped open, barely able to form a coherent thought, let alone reply because there was really only one thing he wanted more than to make this a weekly fixture in his diary and maybe, just maybe, this was proof that it wasn’t as out of reach as he’d always thought it would be. He just hoped Magnus could read his smiles as easily as he seemed to interpret his words.
Alec was saved from answering by the arrival of the cheeseboard which was every bit as spectacular the second time as it had been the first time. He may need to up his workouts to accommodate spending every Friday here but cheese was mostly protein, right? Hell of a lot nicer than the shakes Jace was always yammering on about and the company was exceptional. Which brought him full circle, didn’t it.
“Pardon me for asking, Alexander, I am not seeking to detract from how excellent your plans for Literature are in any way, but at the very beginning you mentioned we - Lydia and I - are both involved in writing curriculum, does that mean you’ve also thought beyond just your own subject being involved?” Magnus asked, smiling back even as he diverted the conversation around Alec’s inability to form a reply to his last statement.
Alec nodded, pleased and humbled in a way he couldn’t really put into words how nothing he said ever seemed to escape Magnus’ notice. Taking a sip of his drink, he gathered his thoughts, leaning in as he offered the rest of his plan.
“You see, once I’d thought of how what I do might compliment the program, I couldn’t help noticing the subjects you and Lydia had each put your hands up to run. Even if it was one week out of five in a couple of electives - it might make a big difference to some of our kids, seeing how it all fits back into the bigger picture. Maybe she’s already thought of it but why not teach them about the current global momentum for legalising same-sex marriage in Human Geography? And there’s no shortage of untaught material relating to the history of the LGBTIQA community for Lydia to dig into in US History.”
“Lydia has often bemoaned the narrowness of the school curriculum with relation to minority groups, this would be an excellent way around it. But do tell me you’ve also got something in store for me, Alexander, because otherwise I’ll feel completely left out,” Magnus said swirling the remains of his martini before tipping it back and placing the empty glass on the table like a challenge.
“Well, it’s more for your biology class than physics or chemistry. You usually teach a mixture of human and animal biology, right? I don’t know if we have any kids who are transgender or intersex but I don’t think it would hurt any of us to better understand how the human body is physically changed by the balance of our hormones. It would be good for them to hear it from someone who can and will answer their questions, and the parents would have a hard time complaining given their kids’ bodies are in the middle of most of these changes this year anyway.”
“I was quite amused the other day, I had two parents send in complaints on the same day - one that I was brainwashing their child about Global Warming and the other that I wasn’t teaching it enough. I’m trying to convince the newsletter team that publishing them side by side has everything to do with transparency and teaching and nothing to do with what they’re calling ‘passive aggressive retaliation’. If they had said I was openly mocking the parents, I would’ve had to agree but I will stand firm that it’s not a retaliation.”
Alec shook his head, stifling a laugh. Every other teacher seemed to rage, scoff or crumple in the face of their harshest critics, Magnus found humour in it.
“I do like this idea though, Alec. What’ve you got in store for Animal Biology?” Magnus asked, starting to construct another tower of blue cheese, honeycomb and apple.
“Well, I was thinking it might not hurt to show the kids that we’re not the only creatures on the planet whose sexuality and gender are diverse. You could even take them to see Tango and Tanuzi, if you felt like a trip to the Central Park Zoo. Tango’s the adopted daughter of Roy and Silo the famous gay Chinstrap penguins and Tanuzi is her female partner.”
“You make them sound like close personal friends, Alexander,” Magnus said with a grin. “Do you love the Central Park Zoo in general or is it penguins in particular?”
Alec laughed, “Animals in general, although penguins are actually quite interesting. Izzy and Jace always tease me because I know all the animals’ names, but they don’t argue when it means the keepers sometimes let us help with the feeding time. Did you know even the cows have names?”
“I’m impressed, that’s a solid curriculum you just proposed and you might have found a way to bolster the admittedly dismal numbers of kids who put their hands up for biology last year, which will make everyone happy. Except Raj. Everyone else loves excursions but he has to collect the permission slips, so…” Magnus shrugged. “Although, I might have to get you to give me a tour before I take the kids because I haven’t been to Central Park Zoo in years. My goddaughter Madzie has a thing for marine animals, in particular, anything with gills, so we tend to be more frequent visitors at the aquarium. I don’t suppose you have a similar rapport with the keepers there by any chance? Although, I imagine fish are much harder to tell apart.”
“Well, I’d have to check what days she’s there but I think my friend Maia is still doing her research project on Glover’s Reef at the New York Aquarium. I should warn you though, she has no shame when it comes to inciting small children who like the sea. I’d recommend comfortable shoes so that when they inevitably dash off to try to find a particularly shy ray or starfish, you’re able to chase after them, you may not be able to find them again in you let her out of your sight.”
“You sound like you speak from experience,” Magnus mused raising an eyebrow, “Is there a story there, Alexander?”
“Max, my younger brother, went through a phase while I was in college where every time he came to visit me in New York, he’d insist we had to visit the aquarium. Probably had something to do with the fact Mom hates it, so it was one of the only places where he and I could just hang out for the day without her hovering in the background. That’s actually how I met Maia. Apparently, it’s only the ocean fanatics who show up at the aquarium three days in a row midweek, so she came to check out if we were the kind she liked or not. I did a lot of running that day because it was around the time Max got really good at hide-and-seek so I didn’t want to let him out of my sight. Mom had already almost torn my place apart looking for him the night before when he hadn’t wanted to go back to the hotel with her.”
“I still remember the first time Caterina, Madzie’s mom, couldn’t find her,” Magnus said. “After years of having to pretend not to see bright pink sneakers poking out or Madzie shaped lumps while ‘hunting’ for her, Caterina couldn’t decide whether she was proud of terrified when she finally figured out how to hide properly. And knowing you and Isabelle, I can imagine the youngest Lightwood finding an ingenious solution to anything he set his mind to.”
“Yeah, now that Max is a bit older we play sardines where just one person hides and all the others look for them but instead of the game ending when you find them, each hunter who finds the original hider then hides with them and the last person to find the hiding spot loses. The longest game we’ve played went for over an hour and even then the only reason it ended was Jace got sick of having Max and I sitting on top of him and started making noise because the cupboard in the attic he’d picked was too small.”
Magnus laughed, “That sounds like one hell of a game, as an only child I envy your close relationship with your siblings. Although, maybe it’s not all fun and games? I believe it’s quite a rare privilege to be able to say I was lent a book by Alec Lightwood. The way Isabelle tells it, I might be the first person in close to a decade that’s gotten within touching distance of your library, let alone been allowed to borrow something. She said you’d rather buy her a copy of a book than lend one of your own.”
“That’s because my siblings are monsters,” Alec said bluntly, scowling at the memory of the last book he’d lent Izzy.
“Well now you have to tell me about it, just in case I’ve inadvertently broken the secret terms and conditions of-” Magnus paused, opening the book to reveal the custom bookplate featuring a dragon guarding a pile of books on the inside of the front cover, politely omitting the words ‘stolen from’ as he read it aloud, “The Library of Alec Lightwood.”
Alec had to fight a smile at Magnus’ raised eyebrows when he explained. “Jace and Max dog-ear the corners and simply turn the book face-down, open at their page instead of using bookmarks. While Izzy either spills something on it or forgets she doesn’t own it and decides to make notes in the margins. It’s just easier to buy them a copy upfront rather than have to buy myself a new one once they’re done with it, that way I never have to see the damage up close or deal with an edition that doesn’t match the rest of the set.”
“I can see now why you need the bookplates, Alexander, you need to prevent any of these devils being able to claim they thought the book was theirs before destroying it!”
“Actually, Jace bought me the custom bookplates in a passive-aggressive gesture of ‘remorse’ when I had to buy myself a new copy of Order of the Phoenix because he’d left it open and then sat on it - breaking the spine and folding ⅓ of the pages in half before I’d even had a chance to finish reading it. I don’t think he had any idea that I’d actually take the suggestion to heart and label every book I owned before it ever made it to a bookshelf.” Alec paused, grinning at Magnus as the moment stretched before adding conspiratorially, “Every time he curses the system, I remind him it was his suggestion.”
Alec decided that making Magnus laugh was his new favourite thing. Because even though Magnus would probably still be insanely attractive if he was wearing a hessian sack and having the worst day of his life, there was something truly magical about the way he laughed. Happiness practically shone out of him and every time, Alec felt like he fell a little bit further in love with him.
* * *
“Now that I’ve told you my favourite parts of The Eyre Affair, it’s only right, Alexander, that you share yours,” Magnus challenged as he bit delicately into the tip of the chocolate-dipped strawberry he’d been gesticulating with.
It was so liberating to be with somewhere that he didn’t have to guard himself so closely, where he could let his eyes linger just that tiny bit longer, sneak glances under his lashes and from the corner of his eyes more often without the overwhelming fear of someone else drawing inferences from the direction of his gaze. It shouldn’t be possible for someone to be that beautiful while doing something so ordinary, he thought he could spend eternity watching those talented fingers dance through the air as he skillfully dodged the drips and dribbles of chocolate that seemed to plague Alec. And yet, he couldn’t help noticing his eyes weren’t the only ones that strayed. There were moments where he felt Magnus’ gaze like a molten caress, seeming drawn to his lips as he attempted to catch the drip of chocolate before it rolled down his chin. Moments when he felt like maybe he wasn’t the only one trying not to notice the dangerous sensuality of this game they were playing.
Stringing a sentence together was hard enough at the best of times in Magnus’ presence but with this distraction, he felt as skilled in intellectual commentary as he was in Latin, the rusted language he’d barely scratched the surface of when he’d begrudgingly learnt it half a lifetime ago. If he hadn’t spent the past few days skimming back through Izzy’s copy, he was certain he would have been reduced to talking about Dodos because even on his worst days, animal facts stuck like super glue in his mind. This really was heaven and hell, coated in chocolate with a cherry on top. He was genuinely fascinated by Magnus’ opinions on one of his favourite books and all the things he wanted to add to this discussion, all the things that had sailed over the heads of his siblings but had been caught by Magnus were there waiting on the tip of his tongue.
Just as Alec opened his mouth to speak, Magnus caught sight of the trail of chocolate left behind by the marshmallow he’d just devoured, casually turning his hand to chase drips of chocolate down from the tips of his fingers to his wrist with his tongue. Before Alec had a chance to look away or preserve some shred of dignity by at least closing his mouth, Magnus’ eyes flicked up meeting his. Panicking, Alec blurted out the first thing that came to mind.
“I used to hate all of the Brontë books.”
“Really?” Magnus hummed, eyeing Alec speculatively as his lips brushed back over the spot that had been chocolate coated only moments earlier.
“There’s atmosphere and then there’s abject misery,” Alec replied flatly as he managed to tear his eyes away and was relieved when his long-standing impassioned critique, at last, returned to him. “The Brontës seemed to take more delight in tortured souls treated poorly by their families than genuine character development so I just couldn’t bring myself to like any of their creations. I mean who, other than an abused orphan, could possibly want a man who taunts them, attempts to trick them into a bigamous marriage or a life of sin despite knowing their religious beliefs and allows them to leave knowing they’ll probably starve without good references. I wanted to shake whoever raised Charlotte Brontë for so royally screwing up her ideas about healthy relationships - familial and romantic.”
“Excellently put, Alexander. Edward Rochester certainly isn’t my ideal romantic lead. One day I hope we’ll get around to sorting out just who your ideal lead would be, because I must admit I am curious given how widely you’ve read, just who you’d set your sights on.” Magnus winked, forcing Alec to drop his gaze, hiding his smile lest the other man know just how much hope all these promises of future discussions gave him. “However, that burning question will just have to wait - I was promised some thoughts on The Eyre Affair, not just its unlucky source material.”
Alec bit his lip, gathering his scattered thoughts back to him, loving that he could share his passion for written words with someone who so clearly shared that connection. “More than the incredible wit and charming playfulness that Fforde writes with, or the inexorable affection for Thursday, I fell in love with the universe he’d created. The idea that every book - every story even - that has ever been written exists as a cast of characters playing their scenes each time you read them - that you’d need detectives tasked with ensuring the original copy remained untampered with - it just, fascinates me.” Alec paused, this was the point he usually saw the eyes of whoever he was talking to glaze or dart away, yet Magnus’ stayed fixed, interest dancing in his warm brown eyes.
Alec can’t help edging forward in his seat as he tries to capture the magic of that premise, “Not just that Darcy meets Lizzy at Pemberley over and over again, hoping to show how her words have changed him but also that lesser known characters, ones my students so often forget or misname in their essays, all diligently play their parts waiting for the reader who notices them. The readers who wonder about the four unnamed children of Mr and Mrs Gardiner or Lady Lucas. The idea that each translation of a particular work would have to be its own universe if the meaning shifted too far. But also just knowing that no published work could be too small or insignificant - even the books that libraries ban or religious groups burn - all of them get a world and a cast. I wish I could reassure some of our kids that the niche novel that’s the one written text they feel like they can identify with - it’s no less important than the classics everyone over a certain age knows at least the vague outline of.”
“That is a fascinating prospect. Especially, as you say, for kids who are different from what they see over and over again in mainstream fiction but manage to find the less beaten path that leads them to a book they’ll hold dear. I imagine you would be a particularly good Literary Detective, Alexander.”
Alec grinned, glancing away as he allowed the praise to soak in. “Thanks, I’d um - I’d love to be a Literary Detective,” Alec admitted, stifling a gasp when the tips of his fingers brushed the soft fabric of Magnus’ pants in a gesture that innocently highlighted how, without Alec noticing, they’d each slowly inched closer to the centre of the couch they shared. Casting about for a safer pre-occupation than the magnetism of their discussion, Alec settled on teasing future plots of the series.
“You haven’t gotten there yet but, I wonder sometimes if Fforde knew of Archive of Our Own, an online library of transformative fiction - many of which are suspended indefinitely as ‘works in progress’ - when he began writing about the Well of Lost Plots in the third book. It’s a place where those written but unpublished works lurk just outside the public’s reach, protected by the detectives. I love the idea that the works rejected by publishers or languishing in an author’s private stores still gets protected. But maybe that’s just the hubris of an unpublished writer.”
“Something tells me you’re not a man who advocates skipping ahead in series?” Magnus asks, his devious smile setting off sparks in Alec’s chest. “Did I pass your test and gain borrowing privileges from The Library of Alec Lightwood or have you decided to cast me back to ordinary bookstores and public libraries, list of recommendations in hand?”
Alec laughed, his cheeks heating as he reached into his bag, taking out the second book in the series and offering it to Magnus along with his other, quite different recommendation. Izzy would have a field day with the fact he genuinely hadn’t even considered not lending Magnus more of his books. He would deny it to the day he died but he had no intention of checking the book Magnus had borrowed the way he’d learned to check every book he’d ever lent anyone else.
“I’m honoured and I will take very good care of them,” Magnus promised softly as he reached for the books, his hand resting over Alec’s momentarily in an unintentional caress as he took them.
Alec was just trying to unscramble what he wanted to say about his second recommendation when a chair scraping and what sounded suspiciously like a broom hitting furniture made them both look beyond each other to the cafe around them for the first time in hours.
“It looks like we’re about to be thrown out of another establishment, Alexander, so that the staff can go home,” Magnus said with a sigh that seems almost wistful, his gaze flitting about the room over his shoulder before glancing back down at the ever-shrinking space between them.
“Or, um, we could try that new Indian place you said you wanted to go to?” Alec asked hesitantly. He wasn’t ready to say goodnight yet. There was something about Magnus that made him want to throw caution to the wind just to stay close to him, to dream that it might be possible to be allowed closer. “You know, make it a proper date.”