A/N: Hey guyss~ Haha, it sure has been a while, huh. I know this is unexpected, and probably a lot of you want me to update Reasons Why (which I promise I will soon), inspiration struck when I received a tumblr prompt for OCD!Alec and supportive!Magnus the other day… (my tumblr is getpadalucky if you're wondering *shameless self-promotion*). I know I'm a terrible person for leaving without a trace like that, please forgive me! Also, please enjoy this fic, it's something a bit different for me!

"Alexander, please follow me to my office." Alec's boss had a receding hairline and a stern voice. Alec frowned and looked at the mess of pencils yet to be organized by color and sharpness and his arms twitched at his side.

Alec hesitated. That itch to fix and organize was almost unbearable, but Hodge looked serious. He took a couple deep breaths and stood up from his cubicle. "Okay." With one last forlorn glance at the stack of pencils and uneasiness in his chest, he followed Hodge.

The door shut with a bang. Alec daintily pulled a tissue from the tissue box and wiped down the dusty, germ filled leather seat deliberately, before sitting down on the edge of the chair. "What is this meeting about, sir?" Alec asked, almost impatiently. Still thinking about the pencils just lying about messily on his desk, Alec's foot was tapping quickly and fingernails sunk into his pant leg.

Hodge rubbed his eyes tiredly and Alec tried not to think about how many germs he just infected himself with. "Alec... How many times have you washed your hands today?" He asked, and his voice was just as tired as his face.

Alec frowned. Well over thirty, but not over fifty. "Well, I don't know, maybe-"

"How many times have you rearranged the pencils on your desk?" Hodge pressed, and Alec was baffled.

"Only once or twice, I mean I-"

"Thirteen times. In half an hour. And you have yet to touch the computer in which THREE MONTHS of work has piled up." Hodge continued, flipping a folder open that showed what Alec got up to in the cubicle each day.

"I'm sorry! It's just my condition. I can't. It's dirty. The keyboard. It's dirty." Alec forced out and then the invisible germs floating in the air suddenly felt overbearing. They were going into his mouth. They were poisoning him. He gasped for air and fought a losing battle against his tears that threatened to spill through.

"Then maybe this job just isn't right for you. I'm afraid you're being dismissed." Alec looked into the middle-aged man's eyes, and saw only pity and slight awkwardness. Alec blinked. No. No. NO.

"Please, you don't understand. I need this job. Please!" Alec begged. He really needed this job. Without this job, while he had no need for the money, he needed it to fill time that he would've spent moping at home.

But Hodge remained adamant, refusing to budge at all. "I'm sorry. Please get your things and leave your employee pass on my desk by tomorrow. You're last pay check will be in the mail by the end of the week." His voice was slightly sad but steeled and Alec wanted to melt straight down the shiny wooden floor panels.

The germs were suffocating him. Then Alec left.

When Alec arrived at home with its well furnished and extremely clean environment, he felt like a failure. His OCD has taken over his life, and it had taken his job too.

He needed that job. Originally, he had planned on selling his art for a living, but after he developed this sickness, He couldn't do it anymore. So he worked in an office job that paid well and put food on the table and the twelve different kinds of soap in the bathroom. But not anymore.

And there was no chance of him finding someone to love him. His ex-boyfriend left him because Alec forced him to brush his teeth every time they kissed and their sex life was basically nonexistent and Alec hated it. He hated his disease more than anything.

He bit back the tears and walked to his painting room. On the walls hung dozens of paintings he did with his hands, as he never was good at using a paintbrush. Each looked original and stunning with fingerprints and a type of heart-feltness that couldn't be recreated on a computer.

But soon, the paint fumes was getting too strong to bear and Alec had that dirty feeling sink his filthy claws into his chest. Immediately, he rushed to the bathroom and started washing his hands with the world's strongest anti bacterial soap. Over and over, Alec's hands shook as they scrubbed and scrubbed as his skin turned slightly wrinkly and prune-like.

Even after his hands were squeaky clean, Alec still felt extremely dirty and uncomfortable. Taking a shuddering breath, Alec stumbled into the living room and fell onto the sofa.

His life was a series of routines. He liked his routines, he liked knowing what to expect. He liked not having to think about his life, he liked just doing the same thing day after day. Because there were no surprises.

But without a job, there was no routine. What was he supposed to do?

The alarm clock wrung with a shrill BRIIINNNNGGG. Alec yawned sleepily, before hitting the snooze button with a glove covered hand. He threw away the gloves he wears to sleep and tosses them in the trash, where more used gloves sat in.

Alec blinked blearily and made his way to the bathroom. Again, routines he could fall into. Washing his hands with the lemony soap in the mornings, but the lavender soap in the afternoon and the aloe one at night. This was easy. Routines were easy.

Then he quickly scrubbed at his face with the water after his hands were cleaned to his satisfaction.

Bangs still dripping, he made his way to the kitchen. More routines he could deal with.

He put the coffee maker on and fried two eggs sunny side up and a sausage. Tugging on gloves, he used a spatula to arrange them on a plate. The two eggs made a pair of eyes, and the sausage was a mouth that tilted downwards to complete the frowny face. Alec smiled. This he was used to.

Then it hit him. He was fired. He had nowhere to go after this. His entire routine was completely messed up and Alec dropped the spatula in terror. What was he supposed to do? What does he do with his life now?

Staring at the frowny face made of edible breakfast foods, Alec suddenly wasn't hungry.

He sat back down on the kitchen island bar stool and bit down the urge to wash his hands. 'I'm not dirty. I'm not dirty. No need to wash my hands, because I'm not dirty.' Alec tapped his hands against the (dirty!) table and tried to not get up.

But he couldn't. He shot up and basically ran to the bathroom, back to vigorously scrubbing his hands and fighting the urge to cry. What was wrong with him?

Alec walked to the medicine cabinet and took out that little orange bottle he promised himself he would never touch again. The side effects of the medicine were suicidal thoughts and depression, but he didn't feel dirty all the time. He opened the cap and after tugging on a pair of gloves, took out the little capsule.

He shouldn't take it. He shouldn't take it. So he didn't. And then that's that. The pill and the pill bottle went back into the cabinet and Alec stared at the bottle sadly. He wished he didn't have this condition, this sickness, this disease.

(Line Break)

The chilly January air was crisp and fresh in Alec's lungs as he walked down the street. He tried not to think about how many germs in the air thanks to pollution and the woes of living in a big city like New York City and having so many neighbors that might not wash their hands, or might not be clean. Dirty.

Shoving his hands into his coat pockets that to a bystander would just be to keep his hands warm, but really, Alec hated leaving his hands uncovered. Hated how itchy and dirty and heavy his hands felt. He turned a corner and the bright welcoming lights of Taki's stood out to him.

It was packed, was what Alec noticed first. There didn't seem to be one empty table where Alec could read the 'Jobs Wanted' section and eat his meal with gloves on without people judging him. He opened the door and barely heard the little 'dingaling' through the sound of people laughing and talking and babies crying.

Alec turned to look for an empty seat and almost ran face in to a guy's chest. Alec looked up and saw a man.

Alec's first thought was 'His eyes. His eyes are so green.' And they were. Deep and alluring, green and gold orbs blinked back at Alec. He had a certain air of elegance and grace that Alec wished he had. "S- sorry." Alec mumbled before looking away, the blush easily hidden by the rosiness of his cheeks from the cold.

"Excuse me, sirs." A petite girl with flaming red hair and freckles and green eyes looked a bit uncomfortable, juggling two platters of food and a coffee. "We're a little, well a lot, packed today. Do you mind sharing a table?" She asked apologetically, yet on edge. Probably overwhelmed with the number of customers today.

Alec blinked. He opened his mouth to say yes, he did mind, because there was no way he wanted this guy with the world's most attractive eyes to judge him. But before he could get the word out, the man answered for him. "No. Not at all." His voice is smooth and silky, yet deep and manly. Alec frowned but the redhead waitress was already leading them to a booth and Alec couldn't find his voice to say anything.

Sliding into the chair near the window, Alec watched in awe as Magnus gracefully took his seat, in a manner so unlike Alec's shuffle. "Hello." The man said with a rather grand flourish of his hand. "I am Magnus Bane. And you, blue eyes?" His eyebrow quirked up in question, a friendly yet oddly seductive smile in place.

Alec turned red. Blue eyes? He had a thick accent that didn't belong in the slubs and residential area of Manhattan. It belonged in a palace in some Mediterranean island.

"Alec. Or Alexander, but I prefer Alec. Yeah." Alec coughed and fidgeted under Magnus' intensive gaze. His hands set firmly in his pockets.

"Alexander. That's a beautiful name. Very full of finesse. It's a brave name, you know?" He commented and the man started to shrug off his bright red peacoat revealing an even more eye catching glittery shirt.

Alec just made a sort of snuffling noise, blushing furiously. He started arranging the platters and spoons tell they sat in a way that looked organized. The fork sat in a 90 degree angle from the bottom of the plate and so did in the knife and spoon.

The stranger made no move to do the same, leaving the silverware in a disorderly mess. Alec frowned, but didn't say anything. Nobody said anything for a while.

Then the redhead waitress comes back with a notepad and a slightly tense smile. "Hi, what would you like?" She asked, pen in hand and Alec couldn't help but think dirty dirty dirty.

"The lobster ravioli," They both said and Alec snapped his head up just in time to see the confusion give away to an amused expression.

But the girl just nodded as if this coincidence was an everyday occurrence. "And to drink?" She asked again, scribbling down things in the notepad.

Immediately, Alec didn't even have to think about it. "Lemon ice tea." Him and Magnus said together again and Alec was actually dumbfound. How was this guy so perfect?

Then the girl bounded off with their orders, leaving Alec shocked and Magnus pleasantly surprised.

"What a coincidence. That's never happened to me before." Magnus commented as Alec started getting out his gloves.

"Me either." Alec responded, tugging on the pale blue latex disposable gloves obviously, trying to get a reaction out of Magnus. Who just blinked but didn't say a word.

"Well actually me and my ex-boyfriend- I'm gay if you didn't get that-"Magnus' silky voice broke off as Alec dropped his fork he had been wiping with a wipe. It was a loud sound, the sound of metal hitting porcelain in shock.

He's gay? He's gay. There was no way this guy exists. There was no way this guy exists. Alec looked up to see Magnus' eyes steeled and hardened. "Well I thought New York banished all you bigots but apparently—-"

Alec blinked, before the realization dawned on him. He actually laughed, a short kind of bark of a laugh that made Magnus freeze in his monologue. "What?" He demanded, hands crossed over on his chest.

"I'm gay, Magnus. I'm gay." Alec laughed again and Magnus blinked two cat eyes at him.

"Oh." He said shortly, his chest heaving slightly as he let out a breath. "Sorry about that, I'm just a little too used to dealing with idiots you know. What with my astounding good looks and fantabulous fashion sense." He grinned at Alec, a wide beaming smile that showed off a row of pearly teeth and oh my god, he had dimples.

Alec could only stare, but he found himself smiling unconsciously at him and well, that wasn't good.

"So what do you do for a living?" Magnus asked as he saw their waitress coming with their food. Alec bit his lip nervously.

"I'm-" Unemployed. "an artist. Or used to be." He said a little awkwardly, staring at the blue latex gloves that covered his hands.

"Used to be?" Magnus looked up curiously.

Then the waitress rounded their table and put their plates of food down as well as the ice teas and left with a smile and a shake of her hips. "I used to do hand-paintings, like well, with my hands. Then I got diagnosed with OCD. It just didn't feel right anymore. So I stopped." Alec said simply, and he wished that it were that simple.

That with each passing day he can't bring himself to dip his hands into that cool wetness that was paint, he didn't feel empty. Art was his way of thanking the world for creating things that are beautiful. So he captured scenes, images, and faces and immortalized them in a frame for the rest of the people to see.

It was his life calling since he was child. But now, he couldn't touch paint without feeling slightly ill and very dirty. And Alec has no idea why he's this way. Some doctors say genetics, other say a chemical dysfunction in his nervous system.

Magnus is staring at him with a sort of fierceness in his eyes. "I can tell you love art, Alexander. And it's horrible that your..." Condition. Disease. Sickness. "-state right now is stopping you from achieving your life calling."

"Yeah well, that's life." Alec said quietly and that self-hatred is back. He wanted to go wash his hands and take a shower and organize Magnus' silverware and Alec just can't anymore.

"Life is beautiful, Alec. Don't say it like that. Do you take medication?" Magnus asked and his gaze is completely zeroed in on Alec like he's a person that he's known for a long time, not a random stranger.

Alec smiled sadly. "I'm allergic to a lot of things, Magnus. The one I used to take made me umm... Depressed, I guess. That's why I stopped taking it." Alec explained and inspected his fork before deeming it clean enough and stabbed a piece of ravioli with it. Magnus' food remained untouched.

But he didn't say anything, only looked at Alec with that same type of intensity and ferociousness that made Alec weak in the knees. "But your case doesn't look that... Severe."

Magnus has a rather nice way with words, all smooth and gracefully rolling off the tongue in a purr. Alec is momentarily stunned by how nice it sounded. Then the words sunk in and Alec snorted. "It is. Trust me, it is. My ex left me because of it. And I got fired because of it. I hate it so much." He ended in a whisper and the hand that was holding the fork speared with a piece of pasta is shaking lightly.

The man looked worried as if Alec's a ticking time bomb waiting to go off. There wasn't much to say, apparently. As even Magnus was stunned silent.

"It's okay." Magnus murmured, reaching over and putting a warm hand on Alec's shoulder. Alec tried to ignore how his heart pace picked up and his entire body felt a sort of warmth that came whenever he was painting or sitting in front of a fireplace or opening presents as a kid on Christmas. "Really it is."

And Alec, for that second, believed him. Then the arm slithered back into the other side of the booth and Alec missed it sorely.

Then Magnus started talking about the new display at the MET. The same one Alec's been following since they announced the construction of it. They slipped into easy conversation as Magnus shoveled food into his mouth and Alec took slow bites with his glove covered hand.

Magnus spilled sauce everywhere while Alec made sure not to. And for once, Alec didn't even care.

But soon the ice tea ran out and their plates were empty. "It was nice talking to you, Alexander." He purred, looking up at Alec through his mascara coated eyelashes. Alec blushed and stuck his hands in his pockets awkwardly.

"You too." Then there was a sort of awkward pause, neither wanting to be the first to leave.

"Hold on. Let me give you my number." Magnus had a pink sparkly pen in one hand, the other holding a napkin down as he wrote a series of digits on it.

He presented it to Alec proudly. "Here you go. I'll expect you to text me soon." He smiled and Alec found himself smiling even wider as he reached for the napkin.

Then Magnus left with an extravagant wave reminiscent of the gesture he presented to Alec as they met. Alec could only watch as he strutted away.

Still with a grin tugged in place, Alec deposited the napkin in his pocket and walked out too.

Their first meeting was by complete chance. And Alec's never felt so lucky before.

When he got home from the restaurant, Alec made a beeline for his art room again, feeling inspired and a pounding need to paint and draw and explore and create. He pulled off the green and paint splattered tarp off the new piece of canvas. He didn't even think about the millions of germs crawling over it. He really didn't.

He took a deep breath, taking the paint palette in one hand and his other hovered over it shaking slightly. "I can do this. I can do this." He repeated steadily, all the while slowing inching his fingers to the cool wetness of the vibrant paint.

"I can do this." He didn't even care that he was still wearing his coat and shoes. That he didn't even wash his hands when he came into his apartment. He could only think about Magnus' words. Art was his life calling, he was right. He couldn't let his condition control it any longer. He needed to create, it was his ambition, his reason.

Then his hands surged down and then the soft fingertips were wet and cold and Alec sucked in a breath. It felt familiar, like a part of him. It felt like putting on a pair of well-worn shoes that you haven't wore in a while, but tried them on. It felt like pieces falling back into place. It felt like a reunion of sorts.

He stared at the green paint on his fingers and stared determinedly on the canvas. It was empty, a pale manila yellow and Alec wanted to fix the boring-ness of it all. He wanted to make it colorful and alluring and captivating.

He inhaled through his nose and then BAM it all got shot to hell. That sharp smell of paint immediately filled his nostrils and he bent over and coughed harshly, wanting to expel that feeling from his lungs. The lighting was too bright, the walls too close and the paints too bright. The cool wetness on his fingertips just felt wrong. Wrong and dirty.

Then Alec ran. He ran and ran until he was clutching the bathroom sink and breathing shallow breaths. He stared in the mirror, his eyes wide and panicked, mouth slightly open as his chest moved up and down. Why was he such a failure?

The sound of water running has become a slightly comforting and familiar noise to Alec. It covered the sound of his breathing; it reminded him that he was getting clean, rubbing off the dirtiness covering him. He thought of the empty canvas, and he couldn't but think it was a metaphor for himself.

His life was empty without art. It had no meaning, just dull.

Part of him thought he failed a man with green cat eyes, too.

Alec splashed his face with water, feeling overheated and a little lightheaded. It hit his face in little cold puddles, and it felt good. Reaching into his pocket, he pulled out a napkin to wipe his face with as his bangs started dripping onto the floor.

He rubbed his face with it, drying up all the excess water. Alec blinked at it, and suddenly his stomach gave a horrible lurch. Where there used to be cute and neat words scribbled neatly onto it was now rubbed into a unintelligible pink mess.

Magnus' number was gone.

Two weeks later

Alec scanned through the jobs wanted section of the third local newspaper clutched between a pair of latex covered hands. He couldn't do another desk job, considering how horribly that ended. And anything particularly messy wouldn't be good either. So contracting, gardening all no's.

Then he stumbled upon a help wanted for a 'Cat-sitter'. It paid well, considering it was just watching a cat for a couple hours, right?

Help Wanted: Cat –sitter for a precious Chairman Meow. Call 123-456-7890. My name is Bain.

Bain. Why was that name so familiar?

An adorable picture of a kitten that looked absolutely tiny and white with big blue eyes. While Alec wasn't extremely fond of animals, taking care of such a small creature couldn't be that much of a hardship, especially with the pay that it promised.

He took a deep breath, smiling happily as he dialed the number. The dial tone wrung sharply in his ear as he picked at the excess latex around his wrists. After the fourth ring, a voice picked up. "Hello?" The voice sounded sleepy and slightly annoyed, as if he was just woken up. It sounded very familiar, but Alec didn't know anybody names Bain?

"Oh! Umm Hi is this Bain? I'm calling about the ad. In the newspaper?" Alec shook out nervously, biting at his bottom lip until it started getting sore.

Then silence. Alec face-palmed mentally. He was an awkward phone caller, it's true. "Is this Alexander?" The voice purred and suddenly Alec was panged with realization. Magnus. It's Magnus! Happiness spread over his entire body, warming his heart and spreading a smile on his face.

"Yes—I mean yeah. Yeah. It's Alec. Err… Alexander." Alec could barely keep the smile off his face. He looked in countless phonebooks and websites looking for Magnus, but couldn't find the ever-elusive man.

"Well, I do so love coincidences. Tell me, why have you not called?" Magnus asked with a certain lilt that made Alec's insides melt to goo. His voice wasn't annoyed or sleepy anymore, it sounded sharp and sweet. Like the first time they met.

"I lost the napkin." Alec admitted and he heard the soft chuckle on the other line.

"That's just too bad. I was waiting for your call, Blue Eyes." Magnus husked into his ear, and the warmness pooling in his stomach flushed into his face, coloring it a furious red.

"Um, sorry." Alec coughed slightly, his voice sounding too high and not like himself. "So, are you still looking for a cat sitter? And why is your name written down as Bain here?" Alec asked the teeth returning to its place on his bottom lip.

"I just thought it'd be cool to have an alias," Alec could hear the smile in his voice. "And yes, my poor Chairman is all lonely without me sometimes." And again, Alec could hear when the smile turned into a pout. It was strange how well Alec could read Magnus, even if they'd barely met.

He nodded as if Magnus was here with him, then coughed at his own awkwardness. "So, do I have a chance to keep the company of this Chairman Meow?" Alec's tone was soft and nervous.

"Of course. You can keep me and Chairman company. Come today." Magnus commanded with a certain air of mock pretentiousness that kept the smile Alec's face even as he felt that nervous panic rush through him. He needed to get clean.

Then Magnus dictated his address to Alec. "See you soon, Blue Eyes." He purred softly, then the sound of the hang up tone filled his ears.

Alec found his face hurting with how big his smile was.

They started going out for real two weeks later. Alec came to Magnus' house to babysit Chairman Meow every day and half the time they just sat on the couch, ate junk food (Alec wearing gloves, of course) and watching horrible reruns of Gilligan's Island and America's Top Model.

Their first kissed happened completely out of blue.

It started on a day completely normal. They sat on the bright purple couch, a box of Oreos between them. Tyra Banks was yelling at some model about her poise and Magnus was laughing along with Alec. Then the laughing died down till it was just Alec's soft, but hearty giggle in the apartment.

Alec turned to look at Magnus, and saw a pair of green eyes staring right back at him. "Alec, I—" Magnus started and Alec really could only focus on how plump and pink and shiny and kissable his lips looked.

And before he knew it, Magnus' lips were on his, and Alec could only focus on how he still tasted like chocolate and cream and iced tea. Magnus' breath was mixed with his and Alec could only think about how dirty Magnus was making his mouth, and he felt like a horrible person when he pulled away.

"I'm sorry Alexander, you just looked so kissable right then." Magnus explained sheepishly, but with noted worry that he did something wrong.

Alec just shook his head. "Can you—I mean if you don't mind, brush your teeth before you do that next time?" He blushed and saw the realization appear in Magnus' eyes.

"Sorry, darling. I'll be sure to blush and floss before your lips are on mine. In fact, wait here." Magnus rolled off the couch with feline grace and skipped adorably in sparkly house slippers to the bathroom. Alec watched him fondly, but still guilt clenched its ugly teeth into his neck.

Magnus shouldn't have to brush his teeth to kiss his boyfriend, or use hand sanitizer when he touched Alec. But yet, here he was, making Magnus' life that much more difficult.

And it was selfish, because now with Magnus in his life, Alec's finally happy. He's accepted his condition as something part of him, something he shouldn't have to change, but now he wants to. He wants to get better for Magnus.

Magnus ran back to him, before flashing his pearly teeth at Alec, pointing a manicured finger to his teeth. "Brushed! See?" He leaned for Alec to see, practically pinning him to the couch at that point. And indeed, his breath was fresh and chocolate-free.

And then the soft lips are back on his, and the mint filled Alec's senses almost instantly. It was intoxicating, and it was all Alec ever wanted. He opens his mouth and tilts his head back, and Magnus just follows him naturally, like they were to puzzle pieces that finally found each other.

His heart thrummed in his chest loudly, and the all-too-familiar feeling of being trapped and dirty started rearing its ugly head, but it was chased away by Magnus' warmth and smooth skin against his face, and his arm slung around his shoulder.

He thought, he could get used to this.

Alec and Magnus never do fall into a routine. Some nights they watched TV, other days they explore the city, another night they were content to listen to music and cuddle. Alec was wary of it at first; the lack of a routine felt unsafe, felt unstable.

But Magnus just tugged him closer as he dragged him on another small adventure. When he held his hand, Alec wasn't so scared anymore.

They still have certain aspects in their relationship that makes Alec feel safe, and completely and irreversibly loved. Magnus doesn't mind adhering to Alec's strange quirks, like brushing his teeth in the middle of the day just to kiss him, or putting on copious amounts of hand sanitizer before and after they hold hands. But Magnus, as bad as Alec feels about forcing him to comply with his ridiculous requests, Magnus just smiles understandingly and says "This means I get extra kisses, right?"

Alec laughed nervously, but pressed a soft kiss to Magnus' cheek anyways.

Some days weren't so calm. Some days the walls started pressing closer and closer to Alec in the way he feared the most. Some days Alec's life was a wash of grey and even Magnus couldn't bring the color back into it.

As Alec felt like a failure for his condition, hiccupping sobs he tried suppressing into Magnus' shoulder, not once did Magnus complain, but he did hold him through it, and Alec slowly regained a hold of himself.

It was moments like those where Alec knew he was completely in love with him, as well as terrified that one day Magnus will see what Alec saw in the mirror and leave him.

But he never did.

Alec started painting again on a sunny Wednesday while Magnus went out to run errands. At first, it was a tentative blur of colors on a canvas that eventually evolved to a man's profile.

His fingers danced across the yellow canvas like they never knew how to stop, and Alec couldn't help but notice how right it felt, and how he couldn't imagine ever stopping.

He anticipated the same lurch in his stomach and sense of dread and anxiety that flooded his body most times he tried to paint, but instead, he was filled with a sense of wonder and fascination and most of all, completion.

And if his painting had two green feline eyes and a mop of dark jet black hair, that was nobody's business but his own.

Once he started painting again, it was like a spell, the way he couldn't stop. Sometimes, he would get so invested in his artwork that he would end up sleeping on the floor of his studio. In the corner laid a large comforter fit for two that was often made to use by Alec and Magnus.

Alec started to realize the beauty in the world again, day by day. While he still had the occasional spell of panic and anxiety and everything feeling wrong, too messy, dirty, he was also working a job helping young children understand the same feeling he gets when he paints.

And Magnus still loved him the same way he did when he was at his lowest.

"Hi Sweetpea," Magnus whispered into Alec's ear as his arms snaked across his waist. Alec smiled and pressed his back into Magnus' chest, but doesn't stop the wave-like strokes across the canvas.

They both took a step back to take in the final image.

It was a warm scene made of neutral and fiery reds and coppers of two men caressing each other's faces with a small white cat lying between them.

Alec didn't even care Magnus didn't brush his teeth when he claimed his lips with his own.

A/N: Hopefully you guys enjoyed that! Please leave any feedback and review, please! Hope everyone's having a nice summer, and we shall talk really soon! :D