Work Text:
It was telling, perhaps, that the most distressing thing wasn't that Magnus had fallen for a Shadowhunter boy, or even that he had fallen for a Shadowhunter boy who was oblivious to his feelings; it was that Magnus had fallen for a Shadowhunter boy who showed up at his door in what appeared to be the same clothes he'd worn to their last meeting (which was inexcusable no matter how cute you happened to be), and that Magnus had nevertheless decided that clothes were the least important of their issues.
He started with the clothes anyway, because the clothes, at least, were an easy fix.
The plan's strength was in its simplicity: Alec didn't notice the glitter on his sweater until they reached the bedroom, where all attempts to rub it off only smeared glitter onto his hands, the doorframe, and in a particularly sparkly spot in his cheek that no amount of rubbing would remove.
Alec sat down on the bed in his distraction. Chairman Meow, always the opportunist, was on his lap as soon as he settled. Magnus dropped down beside him, content to watch as Alec caught on to the situation in stages: the glitter, the white cat, the canary-yellow sheets, the warlock smiling innocently as he stretched across the pillows with catlike content.
Alec tried, predictably, to disappear into the bedsheets. It might have worked at his place, where the color scheme was various shades of dark, dreary and drab, but he stood out in sharp relief against just about everything in this room.
The beautiful thing about the plan was that Alec, properly thwarted and put on display, seemed to realize that his best bet was to play along after a short, embarrassed silence, and it was almost as simple as that. "I feel kind of out of place," Alec said, still scrubbing determinedly at the glitter on his cheek and only spreading it onto his nose and the corner of his mouth. His eyes lit up in the way Magnus found particularly flattering. "Guess I should have gone with that pink shirt. Huh."
"You're playing games with my poor heart again," Magnus teased, in too good of spirits to do anything but pointedly ignore the eyeroll Alec directed at him, "and anyway, though I do appreciate the thought, pink isn't your color."
Alec laid back across the duvet. He remained outlined in yellow, to Magnus' delight.
"Blue or green, maybe; that would make your eyes pop." Alec, distracted by the cat, was no longer scrubbing at his cheek, but he had accidentally rubbed glitter across his mouth, and Magnus shuffled forward on his elbows to get a better look. "Is that a requirement for becoming a Shadowhunter, I wonder?"
Alec humored him without looking up. "Is what a requirement?"
Magnus drew the moment out, until Alec was forced to look up to see what the silence was about, and the look he gave Magnus said as clearly as words that he was about ready to push Magnus out of the way and run the gauntlet for the front door. Magnus took pity on him; they'd only been dating a few days, after all. "It's just that you seem to be dressed for a funeral, and I specifically wrote on your invitation that this was going to be a lively party. Is doom and gloom the dress code over at the Clave? No, don't answer, it obviously is."
"That's not it," Alec said, apparently surprising himself with his own quick answer. Then he brightened. "But there is a requirement to always be prepared. No offense, but it's a Downworlder party and I'm... not exactly welcome."
"Leave it to a Shadowhunter to have a pessimistic explanation for everything," Magnus said, changing tack. "Consider yourself officially welcomed by the ones who really matter here: myself and, more importantly, the master of the house. Quite an honor." He dropped a pat on the top of Chairman Meow's head, brushing at Alec's fingers.
"The master of the house thinks I'm a chair," Alec said cheerfully, not pulling away. Another small victory.
"A very comfortable chair," Magnus agreed. "And stop trying to change the subject. If you're worried about sticking with the Clave dress code, you might try red. Keeping with the death-and-destruction theme, but also very striking and not a shade."
Alec waited, with a surprising amount of patience, as Magnus considered him. At length he cleared his throat. "What if I like my clothes the way they are?" he asked, mouth turned up in the way Magnus was beginning to suspect was the telltale for when he was joking.
"Love, you mean." Running one hand down Alec's side, Magnus brushed his fingers across one of the holes he knew would be there, worn through Alec's sweater to the shirt (black, but that was hardly surprising) underneath. He slipped his fingers through and slid along until he reached the edge of the undershirt, where it gave way to a band of warm skin between the shirt and Alec's belt. "But that's no excuse. I love my clothes, and I show them my love by treating them with the respect and care they deserve and by not wearing holes in them."
Alec breathed out a nervous laugh.
Magnus watched him through half-lidded eyes.
Chairman Meow, forgotten, made a huffy kitten sound that had Alec scrambling to scratch behind his ears, and for a brief moment Magnus considered stooping to the same level if it would help his cause. "You know," Alec began, and Magnus watched, amused, as specks of gold glitter began to show up on the kitten's white fur, "it's not like I... The clothes don't mean anything, I mean, it's not like I care much either way. It's just that I'm a soldier, and, you can't hunt demons when you stand out."
"They would laugh you right out of the business," Magnus agreed, all seriousness.
Alec groaned. "No, but you'd be lunch. If they can't see you, they can't hurt you." His eyes took on a shuttered look that Magnus didn't much like. "It's not like I don't know how to have fun. I'm not all doom and gloom."
"Well," Magnus said, and he was only teasing now, baiting for the bemused look it brought to Alec's face, "that doesn't explain all the scowling. It wouldn't hurt to smile occasionally. You might try it tonight, in fact, because I'm sure my other guests will feel more at ease without a Shadowhunter giving them the hairy eyeball. Especially while he's dressed for business, shall we say."
Alec opened his mouth, decided better, and closed it.
"I'll bet you even brought your knives," Magnus said fondly, kissing away some of the glitter at the corner of Alec's mouth.
Chairman Meow hissed and was across the room and out the door faster than Magnus could follow. There was a tense moment where Alec, startled, stared up at him through wide eyes, one hand picking absently at the covers and the other still suspended where the kitten had been; it passed just as quickly, taking the dark expression with it, and then Alec was smiling at him. Laughing at him, in fact. "No! And you don't have to be so dramatic."
It took everything Magnus had to keep a straight face. "Oh, dear," he said, the picture of innocence, and plucked off a piece of the white fur that was stuck to the front of Alec's sweater. Alec looked down at himself with dismay, flustered and red-faced and still laughing. "How unfortunate."
"I'll go home and change," Alec said.
Magnus smiled. "No, no, no. I have just the thing."
He was halfway to the closet when Alec called after him, "I might put holes in your clothes, too." Then, after a bit of shuffling: "I'll just turn my sweater inside-out, and--"
Magnus turned, shirt already in hand. "Sweetheart, don't you dare."