the sky might catch on fire
Title: the sky might catch on fire
Link: On AO3 | On fan_flashworks
Fandom: Shadowhunters
Pairings: Magnus Bane/Alec Lightwood
Rating: R
Warnings: None
Other tags: Wingfic, Magical accidents, Established relationship
Summary: This was not how Magnus had planned to spend his morning.
*
“So,” Magnus said, after several seconds of standing in the doorway, barefoot in a silk bathrobe and gaping like an idiot. “When you said you just grew wings, you were being entirely literal.”
“Yeah,” Alec said. The wings sprouting from his shoulders shifted with his shrug, tendons flexing, pale iridescent feathers catching the light. They didn’t look like any angelic wings that Magnus had ever seen, although his experience with ethereal manifestations was admittedly limited, given his heritage. Alec’s leather jacket and dark t-shirt were hanging in torn shreds around his bare shoulders, his bow and quiver gripped in one hand, and his expression was so grumpy that it would have been downright comical if Magnus has been able to tear his eyes away from the wings long enough to take it in properly. “What did you think I meant?”
“I assumed it was a euphemism.”
“For what?”
“Ah, well,” Magnus said, and rather than go down that particular road at seven-thirty in the morning when Alec already looked some worrisome combination of disturbed and baffled, he stepped aside out of the doorway. “In any case, please do come in, Alexander.”
“If I can even fit through the door,” Alec grumbled, and in fact it did take some doing. Even folded, the wings arched a good two feet over his already tall frame, and he didn’t seem entirely in control of them. They splayed when he twisted his shoulders, long primary feathers spreading and bumping against the door frame. He had to perform a kind of odd, ducking contortion to get inside, and when he’d finally managed it he set his bow and quiver down on the side table, gave Magnus a look, and said, “Don’t start.”
“Start what?” Magnus asked. He put a hand up to shield his mouth, which wouldn’t stop smiling, but he was pretty sure it was a lost cause in any case, considering the exasperated face Alec was making at him.
“Laughing at me. This isn’t my fault.”
He did look genuinely put-out. With an effort, Magnus forced his face into something resembling a serious expression, stepped forward, and settled his hands on Alec’s arms, stroking his thumbs over the exposed skin there soothingly and feeling tense muscles relax a little. “I’m sorry. I was just surprised.”
“You’re surprised?”
“Not as much as you, I’m sure,” Magnus allowed. “What happened?”
“I honestly have no idea.”
“You just woke up with wings this morning?”
“No,” Alec said, with an endearingly annoyed little pout that Magnus wanted to kiss off of his face. He resisted, with an effort. “A patrol recovered some stolen artifacts in Central Park, and Jace…”
“Touched something he shouldn’t have?”
“It was an accident,” Alec said loyally.
“Of course. And how is your parabatai, pray tell?”
Alec made a vague gesture with both hands, shoulders lifting in a shrug. The wings lifted as well, spreading out, stretching slightly and glinting where they caught the early morning light coming in through the tall windows. It was hard to tell with them still mostly folded, but Magnus thought they had to span at least seven feet. It was entirely possible that they might actually support Alec’s weight, especially given their magical origin.
It took him another second to realize that the gesture had been an answer, and he had to suppress a snort. “I see. Him, too?”
“Izzy thinks it affected both of us because of our bond. I didn’t touch anything,” he added, defensive.
“She’s probably right. Particularly if the artifacts in question were ethereal in nature-”
“Yeah.” Alec started to lean against the wall, stopped when his wings bumped it before his shoulder did, made a face, and straightened again. Magnus bit down on his smile. Alec was eminently teasable, but now was probably not quite the right moment. “Or at least, we think they were. She’s checking out the Institute records now.”
“And you’re here.”
“I needed to get out of there before I-” Alec broke off with a vague gesture that probably translated roughly to, -strangled my own beloved siblings with my bare hands. “Anyway, I thought you might have something in one of your spell books that would help.”
“Hm. I’ll look, but I doubt it. Angelic magic is rather it’s own thing. Isabelle will probably have better luck.” He lifted a hand, hesitated briefly, then said, “May I?”
“What?” Alec blinked at him, and then, comprehension dawning, said, “Oh! Yeah, of course. I mean, if you want to. They don’t hurt or anything.”
“I’m glad to hear it. But it’s always polite to ask.”
A corner of Alec's mouth lifted. “You can pretty much assume I always want you to touch me, for the record.”
“Oh, darling, don’t tempt me,” Magnus murmured, and slid his hand over Alec’s bare shoulder to the fresh ridges of bone above his shoulder blades. The axillary feathers tapered off just below the middle of his back, darkening to a deep gray that contrasted pleasingly with his pale skin. They were lighter across the wings, glimmering like they had stardust caught in them. The skin there was warm and thin over the bone, and he could feel the slight shifts of muscle as he ran his hand up farther, careful not to disarrange any of the feathers. They flexed again when he reached up to cup his hand over the first joint, and he could smell the faint, scorched-iron tang of angelic magic as the air moved. Alec always smelled like that, a little--Magnus imagined that most nephilim did, although he hadn’t come close enough to sniff all that many of them--but it was stronger now. Not unpleasant, just--prickly. Charged, like the air before a lightning storm.
“Do they work?” he asked absently, fascinated by the electric feel of alien magic against his palm. He’d felt it before, mostly when Alec activated his runes, but it had never been like this.
“I don’t know.” Alec’s voice was soft. His wings shifted again, just slightly, but otherwise he was holding himself very still. “I wasn’t about to jump off the roof of the Institute to find out.”
“Well, no.” Magnus swallowed the jolt of old fear at that thought, the memory of Alec stepping off the edge of his balcony into thirteen stories of thin air. “But perhaps something a little less drastic?”
“Yeah, maybe. Later. Magnus…” His name caught raggedly in Alec’s throat and Magnus, startled, looked up. Alec’s face was mostly in shadow, but the early morning sunlight outlined the curve of his cheekbone, the slope of his brow and the sweep of his eyelashes. His lips were parted and his eyes were dark and intent in a way that put a sudden twist of something that had nothing at all to do with fear through the pit of Magnus’s belly.
He stared back up at Alec’s face, then moved his thumb, just slightly, soft down shifting beneath his touch, and watched Alec’s eyes flutter shut as he breathed in slowly.
“Oh,” Magnus said softly.
“Don’t-” Alec opened his eyes and looked at him. There was a flush rising in his cheeks, and he was holding himself so still that he was almost vibrating with it, and he was beautiful, just utterly stunning. There was no way that Magnus had lived a good enough life to deserve this, but he was greedy enough to be glad that he had it anyway. “Don’t laugh at me.”
“Darling, I would never,” Magnus said, breathless and entirely sincere, and he dropped his hand only to cup Alec’s face between his palms and drag him into a kiss.
Alec started slightly, then kissed him back, hard, backing him up against the door frame, his hands hot and eager as he shoved open Magnus’s robe without even bothering to unbelt it. Magnus grinned, delighted and unseen, and slid his hands over Alec’s shoulders and down his arms, melting away his shredded jacket and t-shirt with a thought. After a second of consideration, he banished the rest of Alec’s clothes as well, leaving him as bare and glorious as a sculpted angel, although there was something decidedly less than angelic about the heat in his eyes when he pulled back to stare at Magnus. Lucifer, perhaps, preparing to fall.
“What?” Magnus asked, aiming for teasing and getting lost somewhere around distracted and horny, and Alec could see that just fine, going by the sudden sweet curl of his mouth. “I’m just being expeditious. Carry on.”
Research, he thought as Alec laughed softly and leaned in to kiss him again, could definitely wait.
Link: On AO3 | On fan_flashworks
Fandom: Shadowhunters
Pairings: Magnus Bane/Alec Lightwood
Rating: R
Warnings: None
Other tags: Wingfic, Magical accidents, Established relationship
Summary: This was not how Magnus had planned to spend his morning.
*
“So,” Magnus said, after several seconds of standing in the doorway, barefoot in a silk bathrobe and gaping like an idiot. “When you said you just grew wings, you were being entirely literal.”
“Yeah,” Alec said. The wings sprouting from his shoulders shifted with his shrug, tendons flexing, pale iridescent feathers catching the light. They didn’t look like any angelic wings that Magnus had ever seen, although his experience with ethereal manifestations was admittedly limited, given his heritage. Alec’s leather jacket and dark t-shirt were hanging in torn shreds around his bare shoulders, his bow and quiver gripped in one hand, and his expression was so grumpy that it would have been downright comical if Magnus has been able to tear his eyes away from the wings long enough to take it in properly. “What did you think I meant?”
“I assumed it was a euphemism.”
“For what?”
“Ah, well,” Magnus said, and rather than go down that particular road at seven-thirty in the morning when Alec already looked some worrisome combination of disturbed and baffled, he stepped aside out of the doorway. “In any case, please do come in, Alexander.”
“If I can even fit through the door,” Alec grumbled, and in fact it did take some doing. Even folded, the wings arched a good two feet over his already tall frame, and he didn’t seem entirely in control of them. They splayed when he twisted his shoulders, long primary feathers spreading and bumping against the door frame. He had to perform a kind of odd, ducking contortion to get inside, and when he’d finally managed it he set his bow and quiver down on the side table, gave Magnus a look, and said, “Don’t start.”
“Start what?” Magnus asked. He put a hand up to shield his mouth, which wouldn’t stop smiling, but he was pretty sure it was a lost cause in any case, considering the exasperated face Alec was making at him.
“Laughing at me. This isn’t my fault.”
He did look genuinely put-out. With an effort, Magnus forced his face into something resembling a serious expression, stepped forward, and settled his hands on Alec’s arms, stroking his thumbs over the exposed skin there soothingly and feeling tense muscles relax a little. “I’m sorry. I was just surprised.”
“You’re surprised?”
“Not as much as you, I’m sure,” Magnus allowed. “What happened?”
“I honestly have no idea.”
“You just woke up with wings this morning?”
“No,” Alec said, with an endearingly annoyed little pout that Magnus wanted to kiss off of his face. He resisted, with an effort. “A patrol recovered some stolen artifacts in Central Park, and Jace…”
“Touched something he shouldn’t have?”
“It was an accident,” Alec said loyally.
“Of course. And how is your parabatai, pray tell?”
Alec made a vague gesture with both hands, shoulders lifting in a shrug. The wings lifted as well, spreading out, stretching slightly and glinting where they caught the early morning light coming in through the tall windows. It was hard to tell with them still mostly folded, but Magnus thought they had to span at least seven feet. It was entirely possible that they might actually support Alec’s weight, especially given their magical origin.
It took him another second to realize that the gesture had been an answer, and he had to suppress a snort. “I see. Him, too?”
“Izzy thinks it affected both of us because of our bond. I didn’t touch anything,” he added, defensive.
“She’s probably right. Particularly if the artifacts in question were ethereal in nature-”
“Yeah.” Alec started to lean against the wall, stopped when his wings bumped it before his shoulder did, made a face, and straightened again. Magnus bit down on his smile. Alec was eminently teasable, but now was probably not quite the right moment. “Or at least, we think they were. She’s checking out the Institute records now.”
“And you’re here.”
“I needed to get out of there before I-” Alec broke off with a vague gesture that probably translated roughly to, -strangled my own beloved siblings with my bare hands. “Anyway, I thought you might have something in one of your spell books that would help.”
“Hm. I’ll look, but I doubt it. Angelic magic is rather it’s own thing. Isabelle will probably have better luck.” He lifted a hand, hesitated briefly, then said, “May I?”
“What?” Alec blinked at him, and then, comprehension dawning, said, “Oh! Yeah, of course. I mean, if you want to. They don’t hurt or anything.”
“I’m glad to hear it. But it’s always polite to ask.”
A corner of Alec's mouth lifted. “You can pretty much assume I always want you to touch me, for the record.”
“Oh, darling, don’t tempt me,” Magnus murmured, and slid his hand over Alec’s bare shoulder to the fresh ridges of bone above his shoulder blades. The axillary feathers tapered off just below the middle of his back, darkening to a deep gray that contrasted pleasingly with his pale skin. They were lighter across the wings, glimmering like they had stardust caught in them. The skin there was warm and thin over the bone, and he could feel the slight shifts of muscle as he ran his hand up farther, careful not to disarrange any of the feathers. They flexed again when he reached up to cup his hand over the first joint, and he could smell the faint, scorched-iron tang of angelic magic as the air moved. Alec always smelled like that, a little--Magnus imagined that most nephilim did, although he hadn’t come close enough to sniff all that many of them--but it was stronger now. Not unpleasant, just--prickly. Charged, like the air before a lightning storm.
“Do they work?” he asked absently, fascinated by the electric feel of alien magic against his palm. He’d felt it before, mostly when Alec activated his runes, but it had never been like this.
“I don’t know.” Alec’s voice was soft. His wings shifted again, just slightly, but otherwise he was holding himself very still. “I wasn’t about to jump off the roof of the Institute to find out.”
“Well, no.” Magnus swallowed the jolt of old fear at that thought, the memory of Alec stepping off the edge of his balcony into thirteen stories of thin air. “But perhaps something a little less drastic?”
“Yeah, maybe. Later. Magnus…” His name caught raggedly in Alec’s throat and Magnus, startled, looked up. Alec’s face was mostly in shadow, but the early morning sunlight outlined the curve of his cheekbone, the slope of his brow and the sweep of his eyelashes. His lips were parted and his eyes were dark and intent in a way that put a sudden twist of something that had nothing at all to do with fear through the pit of Magnus’s belly.
He stared back up at Alec’s face, then moved his thumb, just slightly, soft down shifting beneath his touch, and watched Alec’s eyes flutter shut as he breathed in slowly.
“Oh,” Magnus said softly.
“Don’t-” Alec opened his eyes and looked at him. There was a flush rising in his cheeks, and he was holding himself so still that he was almost vibrating with it, and he was beautiful, just utterly stunning. There was no way that Magnus had lived a good enough life to deserve this, but he was greedy enough to be glad that he had it anyway. “Don’t laugh at me.”
“Darling, I would never,” Magnus said, breathless and entirely sincere, and he dropped his hand only to cup Alec’s face between his palms and drag him into a kiss.
Alec started slightly, then kissed him back, hard, backing him up against the door frame, his hands hot and eager as he shoved open Magnus’s robe without even bothering to unbelt it. Magnus grinned, delighted and unseen, and slid his hands over Alec’s shoulders and down his arms, melting away his shredded jacket and t-shirt with a thought. After a second of consideration, he banished the rest of Alec’s clothes as well, leaving him as bare and glorious as a sculpted angel, although there was something decidedly less than angelic about the heat in his eyes when he pulled back to stare at Magnus. Lucifer, perhaps, preparing to fall.
“What?” Magnus asked, aiming for teasing and getting lost somewhere around distracted and horny, and Alec could see that just fine, going by the sudden sweet curl of his mouth. “I’m just being expeditious. Carry on.”
Research, he thought as Alec laughed softly and leaned in to kiss him again, could definitely wait.