Magnus' eyes traced the lines of both wings from tip to tip, proud of how Alec had so easily taken to moving them. Even though he wasn't considered as good of a warrior as his siblings—an opinion Magnus didn't share—he had both the calm grace and natural physical aptitude that made it easy for him to pick up the nuances of controlling the wings. Magnus might make an argument that it was because of his angelic blood, that he was literally born to have wings, but that was a conversation for another time, if ever.
Humming into the kiss, Magnus trailed his fingers over the lines of Alec's suit and admired the variety of textures he found. It was a work of art, made all the more beautiful by the man wearing it, and Magnus was still floored with the choice. Often he thought of Alec in stores, trying to pick things based on what he guessed Magnus' reactions might be, never once thinking that Magnus loved him best in worn sweaters and faded jeans when he was pure Alexander Lightwood.
He kissed back, mouth open for Alec to take as he pleased, though his lips curved up in a lazy smile at the familiar sensation of fingers tracing designs over his heart. "You're better than anything I've ever let myself dream of," he whispered back softly, reaching past Alec and combing his fingers through the feathers of his wings. Sucking in a breath, always surprised by bold moves such as Alec grabbing his ass, he grinned up at him before leaning in to mouth against the side of his neck just beneath his ear. "Right now, all I can think about is you pinning me down on that bed and fucking me until I forget everything but your name."
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Humming into the kiss, Magnus trailed his fingers over the lines of Alec's suit and admired the variety of textures he found. It was a work of art, made all the more beautiful by the man wearing it, and Magnus was still floored with the choice. Often he thought of Alec in stores, trying to pick things based on what he guessed Magnus' reactions might be, never once thinking that Magnus loved him best in worn sweaters and faded jeans when he was pure Alexander Lightwood.
He kissed back, mouth open for Alec to take as he pleased, though his lips curved up in a lazy smile at the familiar sensation of fingers tracing designs over his heart. "You're better than anything I've ever let myself dream of," he whispered back softly, reaching past Alec and combing his fingers through the feathers of his wings. Sucking in a breath, always surprised by bold moves such as Alec grabbing his ass, he grinned up at him before leaning in to mouth against the side of his neck just beneath his ear. "Right now, all I can think about is you pinning me down on that bed and fucking me until I forget everything but your name."