Day 4: Cross-Over Day

lucy-5968:

The first time Alec Lightwood saw Magnus Bane was in his first-year potions class. It wasn’t a case of Magnus drawing his eye the moment he walked in. At that time, at the age of eleven, Magnus could almost pass for utterly mundane. The only hint of his later flamboyance was his well-styled hair.

But, dressed in plain black school robes like everyone else, Magnus drew everyone’s eye. He was funny, outspoken, charismatic, and knew exactly what he wanted. And he didn’t care what anyone else thought.

Alec found the Slytherin a painful reminder of the fact that he was so very different. Shy, reserved, and nervous, Alec very much stayed to himself. He flushed practically every time anyone spoke to him, and couldn’t even begin to imagine making the snarky comments Magnus and his friends did.

For that first year, while Alec brooded over just why he’d been put in Hufflepuff, for god’s sake, when his entire family had been Gryffindors for as long as anyone could remember, the only person who could really get Alec to open up was mild-mannered, kind-hearted Jem Carstairs.

So in his second year, Alec began to open up. He watched his sister, Isabelle, and adopted brother, Jace, get sorted into Gryffindor. Though he felt a slight pang, he clapped along with everyone else.

But he’d never grinned so broadly as he did when Jace told him that he’d been picked for the Gryffindor quidditch team. Astounded, Alec had watched Jace play the brutal position of beater brilliantly, with all the strength and snark and speed of the fifth year he played with.

And, really, that was how it all started. Going out late to practise with Jace, playing constantly during the holidays, even convincing Jem and Isabelle to play with them, Alec found a strange, unexpected love for the sport.

The first time Alec Lightwood spoke to Magnus Bane was in his third year, after the Hufflepuff quidditch trials. By this time, Alec was just beginning to struggle with the realisation of his sexuality, whilst Magnus was out experimenting very openly.

Alec had just been told that he would play as a chaser. He’d stood, dumbfounded, by the side of the pitch, when the Slytherins began to leak out of the building for their own trials.

“You looked shocked, Lightwood,” was the first thing Magnus ever said to him, stood a few feet away, broom in one hand, a lazy smile on his face. “Don’t. I may actually have to focus to hit the bludger at you. You fly fast.”

Alec stared at Magnus. Magnus knew his name? Magnus had watched him? And Magnus was freaking talking to him about it?

Magnus quirked an eyebrow at him just a little. Alec averted his eyes. “Thanks,” he said. He’d seen Magnus play before. He was good. He wasn’t amazing, per se – Jace was far better, though they both employed the tact of snark and sarcasm to distract the other players – but he was good.

“Magnus!” Camille Belcourt, the Slytherin captain, barked. “If you want to keep your place on the team, stop chatting and get over here!”

Exchanging a few words with Magnus after games became an almost customary thing for Alec. As he grew into himself and his sexuality, as he found his pride for his house and for himself and for what he stood for, as he accepted who he was and his emotions and his dreams, his confidence grew.

Magnus, in comparison, changed outwardly. Alec was sure he’d never seen him in the same outfit twice, save his school uniform, and even Isabelle had commented on how tasteful the guy’s make-up was.

Alec didn’t realise how much he looked at Magnus, how much he liked Magnus, how attractive he found him, until he saw Magnus kissing some guy heatedly near the Whomping Willow at the beginning of their fifth year.

And that was how he found himself sitting in the Hufflepuff quidditch stands next to Jem in the freezing November rain, eyes determined to linger on a certain Slytherin than pay any attention to the rest of the game. Really, he should have been focusing on praying that Slytherin won, because Gryffindor needed to lose some points if Hufflepuff were to have any chance of winning the cup this year. And it was Alec’s final year. He’d be damned if they didn’t get the title.

“You know,” Jem said, not tearing his eyes away from the blurs of green and scarlet streaking across the pitch, “you’re really becoming quite pathetic.”

Alec turned to his to glare at him. “Thank you, James.”

Jem grinned a little. “Look at Jace. He decided he wanted Clary, so he asked her out.”

“She said no,” Alec pointed out.

“At first. But that’s not the point.”

“Then what is the point?”

“That if you like Magnus so much you should just ask him out.”

Alec huffed, and turned his attention back to the game.

Slytherin won the game by a very fine margin, thanks to a spectacular catch from their seeker. While Jace complained and ranted to Clary and Jem about how appalling the Gryffindor seeker was, Alec felt a presence behind him and warm breath stirring the still November air.

He turned around, trying to ignore the blush that Magnus always evoked. “Hi.”

Magnus smiled one of his gorgeous smiles. There was no way his hair could still be that perfect after a quidditch match unless he’d magicked it into those spikes. “Hello, Lightwood.”

“Well done,” Alec said after a moment’s silence. “We were rooting for you.”

“Tactical,” Magnus replied, grinning. “My dilemma is that I can’t decide whether I should be supporting Ravenclaw or Hufflepuff next match.”

Alec glanced at the score Slytherin had racked up during the game, and raised his eyebrows after doing the maths. “Ravenclaw. If we win we go to the top.”

“Exactly. But you fly for the other team.” Magnus dropped him a wink, and Alec’s cheeks heated up.

Alec was at once very aware of three things. One, that this was one of the longest conversations he’d ever had with Magnus—they usually exchanged brief congratulations or condolences or jokes and went their separate ways. Two, Magnus was standing so close that he could see each individual sparkle of glitter just accenting the edge of his eyelids. And three, Magnus had just insinuated that he wanted to support Hufflepuff, just because that was the team Alec played for.

He felt unsure as to where he stood with Magnus Bane. They didn’t talk away from the quidditch pitch, they called each other by their last names, and even when they had the same classes they didn’t exchange so much as hellos.

And yet, that sentence was either friendly or flirtatious. Alec wasn’t stupid. The glittery wink that had accompanied it seemed to rule out the first option.

Two years ago, Alec might have closed the conversation and run away, never to speak to Magnus again. But this would quite possibly be Alec’s only chance to see if anything could come of his unrequited-crush. He’d take it.

The only problem was that he had no idea what to say.

Magnus, though, spoke first. “Can I ask you a question?”

Alec nodded. “Of course.”

“Do you deliberately ignore me?”

Alec stared at him for a long few seconds, dumbfounded. Ignore Magnus Bane? Nobody ignored Magnus. He was loud and brash and outspoken and flamboyant and completely gorgeous. Alec knew he wasn’t the only one who thought so.

It took Alec a full minute to find his voice. “I don’t ignore you. I always talk to you after quidditch—”

Magnus waved a dismissive hand. “After quidditch matches, for thirty seconds. It doesn’t really count, Lightwood. You never talk to me off the pitch.”

“You never talk to me, either,” Alec retorted.

“I keep trying to catch your eye,” Magnus said, a slight edge to his voice. “All the time. At meals, in the corridors, in lessons…”

Alec didn’t know how to respond. Maybe he did ignore Magnus, inadvertently. He’d certainly never noticed Magnus trying to catch his eye from across the corridor. He just heard Magnus’ voice, calling out to his friends, laughing, joking, being himself.

“You always avoid looking at me.” Magnus’ voice softened.

Alec wanted to look away from those unique green eyes, which faded to gold around the pupil. But he didn’t. He couldn’t. He kept looking at Magnus, heart aching at how close they were, and yet how much distance was between them.

“I’m sorry,” Alec said. “I didn’t mean to. I never meant to. But—” He bit his lip. He couldn’t say that.

“But?” Magnus promoted him. Alec noticed his grip on his broom handle tighten, turning the soft brown skin of his knuckles almost white.

“It’s easier to not look at someone at all,” Alec murmured, averting his eyes, “than to look once and not be able to look away. Especially when they don’t have any interest in looking back.”

He felt fingertips under his chin, encouraging him to glance back at Magnus. His breath caught at the gleaming, passionate look in the Slytherin’s eye.

“I think,” Magnus said in a low voice, breath washing across Alec’s face, “that we’ve just established that I do have an interest in looking back.”

And then Magnus’ lips were on his, soft and slow and tender, contrasting to the way Alec was grasping at his robes and Magnus had one hand fisting in the back of Alec’s sweater; Alec wondered how he could have spent so many years fantasising about this when it could have been reality.

When Magnus pulled away, he cupped his long fingers along Alec’s cheeks, a smile on his lips. “You have no idea how long I’ve wanted to do that,” he murmured.

Alec smiled. “Trust me,” he said, “I do.”

Magnus ran his thumbs along Alec’s cheeks. “Your brother is staring at us.”

“You mean Jace?”

Magnus nodded.

“Ignore him.” Alec licked his lower lip. “Magnus—” He swallowed. He’d never called him that before. Sure, he always referred to him as Magnus, and he always thought of him as Magnus, but he’d never called him that to his face.

Magnus just smiled. “Yes, Alec?”

Alec swore his heart nearly burst right out of his chest when Magnus said his name like that. “I… Oh, never mind.”

They kissed again, standing at the side of the quidditch pitch, the smell of sweat and grass and some pleasant scent that Alec couldn’t place coming from Magnus. His lips tasted sweet, and were smooth against his. Alec could feel his own hands shaking, and he hoped that Magnus didn’t notice.

“Hogsmeade,” Magnus said when they broke apart for a second time. “There’s a Hogsmeade trip soon. Come with me?”

Alec looked at the Slytherin, barely able to believe what he was hearing. “Okay. I’d like that.”

Magnus smiled widely. He squeezed Alec’s hand, kissed his cheek, and murmured, “Don’t avoid me, Alexander,” before walking away, back into the castle, leaving Alec feeling as though his every wish had just come true.