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every day is a lullaby

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Magnus has been drunk more times than he can count, but being drunk with his husband is an entirely different experience. Although he isn’t quite drunk – with his warlock tolerance returned, he’s barely past tipsy. Alec is decidedly more intoxicated, enough so that Magnus was the one to suggest they go home.

Magnus never thought he would be the kind of person to want this quiet content, this domestic bliss. But he’s settled into a routine he loves, with a person he loves, and it’s better than any adventure or alcohol. His nineteenth-century self would think him boring, but the man he is now loves it more than anything.

And he loves the man across from him more than anything. Alec isn’t doing anything special, just playing with the rings on Magnus’s hand like he hasn’t seen them a hundred times, and yet Magnus feels warm and impossibly fond just watching him.

“So, no drunken confessions from you, Alexander? I won’t judge, and there’s no one around for you to insult. Except me, of course.”

“I would never insult you.”

Alec looks so offended at the mere suggestion that Magnus can’t help but laugh. “You’re very sweet. But there’s nothing you want to share? No kinky fantasies, besides the ones I already know? No deep-seated hatred of my cocktail recipes?”

Alec shakes his head but doesn’t verbally deny it, clearly trying not to give himself away. In his intoxicated state, it only takes a minute of silent staring for him to break eye contact. He hesitates for a moment, then blurts out, “Last week, I was half-asleep writing reports, and you carried me to bed. And I ... liked that. Really, really liked it. ”

“Oh,” Magnus says, smile spreading across his face. “Oh. Well, for my husband, I think I can manage to do that again.”

Magnus wraps his arms around him and Alec’s legs instinctively wrap around his waist in return, before he starts to protest, “No, wait, Magnus, this is silly, and I’m too tall – ”

But Magnus isn’t listening, already lifting him off the couch. He spins in a circle, stumbles - perhaps a little less sober than he thought - and starts toward the bedroom.

Alec has his face pressed into Magnus's shoulder and is laughing so hard he almost falls off three times. He is utterly useless, and a deadweight, and Magnus loves him more than anything. Though that won’t stop him from teasing. “I’m doing all the work here and you can’t even hold on properly?” He lowers Alec onto the bed, laughing a little himself. “Such a useless drunk. You’re lucky you’re cute.”

“What I’m lucky for is finding you.” Alec says it in the blunt, matter-of-fact he always says these things, and just like always, it makes Magnus’s breath catch in his throat.

He leans forward to kiss Alec, slow and sweet, hoping it can convey even a fraction of the love he feels in this moment. “My mistake then, Alexander. How lucky we both are, to have found each other.”