Disclaimer: Nope, don't own Mortal Instruments or anything else save the plot.

As it is, this was a random AU that came to me in the middle of the night, so yeah. Sorry if it sucks.

Some say he learned how to sew in order to impress girls. Others claim that a broken heart caused by an ex-flame compelled him to take up the needle. Many rumors of innate mystical powers - how ridiculous, really - prove that somewhere, people actually believe that he's magic.

In truth, fashion icon Magnus Bane didn't start designing for any of those reasons. He does it, like with most things in his life, because he chooses to, but have you met reporters these days? The press would never take such a simple answer.

For now, he's more than content to let them think what they will - things like these never bothered him much, anyhow.

At twenty, the first tabloids started appearing, with Magnus' dresses on the cover. He wasn't trying to become famous, honestly. It was just that a few friends of his began wearing his clothes and oh, to take a random example, maybe one was involved with a magazine company and decided to run a short, easily forgettable article about local designers.

It turned out to be not-so-forgettable after all.

And now he's here, after years of discovery and perfecting and name-building, about to shoot the pictures for his newest collection. He hasn't quite decided on a name yet, but that's how he works. Everything's slightly out of order and in progress, kind of a hot mess, and it's going to turn out absolutely fabulous, he's sure.

So, at the present, he's in his private office, a hanging rack filled with clothes waiting to be fitted and shot with the models. Usually he just has some of his unjustifiably attractive friends wear his outfits, such as Camille and Tessa, two of his oldest and dearest companions that were frankly gorgeous. Unfortunately for Magnus, though, Camille was out of town and Tessa was sick, and his other usual comrades and workers were unavailable. This lead to the branch out of other sources, in which Ragnor, who didn't know a damn thing about fashion but backed up his dream for the beginning and somehow ended up as his manager, ended up hiring some beautiful strangers. The Lightwoods, apparently, were supposed to be decent on the whole and insanely pretty, so Magnus went with it, though he's never really seen or met them.

How bad can it be? It's only one shoot.

Well, it would be only one shoot if they'd show up.

Ragnor, he begins texting with a sigh, you did say that they were supposed to arrive at three, right? Moments later, the response from his supportive best friend turned manager comes.

Yeah, why?

It's three thirty and they're still not here. Though Magnus loved Ragnor like a brother, he just knew that the betrayer was trying not to laugh as he texted back.

Traffic is murder.

I've got to get this wrapped up by four thirty, though! I have appointments.

Sorry? There's a pause before Ragnor's stream continues. Get over it, they're probably going to arrive any second now.

All I'm saying is, they better be phenomenal, because -

And just like that, the door is flung open, and in stumbles, quite possibly, the most attractive man Magnus has ever seen.

He knows it's stupid and tacky and cliche, three things that are most definitely not Magnus Bane, but hell has frozen over because this guy is seriously perfect. The stranger in question is smiling hesitantly, almost sheepishly, his hand rubbing the back of his neck. His skin is an unblemished milky white, and his hair is a tousled inky black. It's easy to see, even through his dark shirt and nice jeans, that he's incredibly fit and is probably sporting a six pack beneath the fabric. But the thing that really catches Magnus' attention is his eyes - they're the most entrancing cerulean and cobalt the designer's ever seen.

Yes, it's kind of sad, the way he mentally takes a nosedive and begins romanticizing for a complete stranger. It's been a long day, though, and since he's been rather miserable and has been waiting for an extra half hour for this person, so damn it all if Magnus isn't going to take the opportunity to gawk while he can.

A girl - his sister, probably, judging by her fair completion and similar locks - walks in next to him, and a blonde man follows, musing his hair.

He should probably address these people. He should probably think of something intelligent to say to them.

"Wow," Magnus mutters, though, and the girl grins calmly. "No wonder you're a model."

"Yeah, I get that a lot. I'm Isabelle Lightwood," she explains. Magnus only blinks. "Sorry about being so late - someone took a wrong turn and we got caught in a rush of cars." The blonde man stuck out his tongue. "It won't happen again, we promise."

"It won't happen again because I'm driving next time and you two are sitting in the back, far from the steering wheel," asserts the stranger towards the other people before turning back to Magnus. "We're usually a lot more composed. I've been a bit of a mess today."

"It certainly doesn't show," the caramel-skinned man murmurs, looking the man up and down. "And, just for the record, though it's nice to meet you, Isabelle, I wasn't referring to you. I was talking about the one with the gorgeous blue eyes." The man across from him promptly turns bright red, and Magnus is slightly confused. "What? You should be used to compliments, you're a model."

"I'm Alexander Lightwood," he tries, stuttering slightly. It's far more adorable and endearing than it should have been. "And these are my siblings, Izzy, my little sister, and Jace, my adoptive brother. They're the models, not me - I'm just . . . I'm a manager and stuff."

"Trust me, you could be, though," the glittery designer grins, and the Lightwood tries not to die of embarrassment. It's a point of pride that Magnus is able to make Alexander so uncomfortable in only a couple sentences. It's maddeningly fulfilling.

"And let my brother steal the show? Never," Isabelle smirks, ruffling her sibling's hair in a rather juvenile manor. She simultaneously saves Alexander and messes with him further with a single sentence.

Magnus just knows that he's going to become good friends with her. And if he happened to get closer to the most handsome, easily flustered person he's ever met, than that wouldn't be so bad, either.

"Where do we start?" the blonde man - wait, no, it's not Jason, Jacob, James . . . Jace, there it is - says, cracking his knuckles in anticipation.

It's the start of a beautiful business relationship, and perhaps he's made a few more friends, too.

One thing is for sure, and it's that the Lightwoods are definitely getting hired again.

Alexander has to come along, though.

Naturally, despite the issue of their inconvenient late-ness, Magnus has to text Ragnor 'thank you' later for booking the Lightwood siblings.

Thank you, Ragnor Fell, you beautiful, magical human being - you've improved my existence.

You're welcome, I guess, but what exactly did I do today?

Let me put it like this: Have you ever met a man so beautiful he makes you want to cry?

Only every time I look in the mirror. Despite himself, the caramel-skinned man laughs, shaking his head. But aside from yours truly, I can't say I have. Why?

I think I've just been introduced to the most attractive guy I've ever seen in my life. There's a rather long pause before Ragnor continues, and Magnus knows exactly what his best friend is thinking. The designer's past relationships haven't exactly gone swimmingly, and Magnus has been out of the saddle for a while. And many of those flops weren't the sort of bland mutual breakup or circumstantial separation that people often have - no, they were messy, tear-out-your-heart-and-eat-it-whole affairs, and often Magnus held the short end of the stick.

Sadly, when Magnus Bane gets his mind set on something, he's too stubborn to not complete it. And when it comes to dating, when the designer falls, he falls hard and fast and there's no stopping any of it. He's either all in or entirely not interested, and the lovesick puppy phase manifests remarkably quickly.

Ragnor obviously realizes that, even if this is bound to be another tragically ending disaster, there's no use in trying to talk Magnus out of this eight-grade-crush phase, and the response finally comes back with a reluctant tone. So, I suppose it's my fault you met him?

He's the third Lightwood sibling, apparently their manager.

I thought you said he was so beautiful he makes you want to cry. He's not one of the models?

I know, right?! It boggles the mind.

. . . Right. Before I turn off my phone and start to ignore you, what's his name?

I'm sure I'll regret asking, but what the heck.

Alexander.

Hot. It's sarcastic, the response, but what else is new?

Naturally.

You have a problem. You're going to become obsessed.

Yup.

Alright, then. Take care of yourself, Magnus - I'd hate to see you get hurt. And just like that, Ragnor is officially on radio silence.

It's idiotic, especially because he's probably only spoken all of three sentences to Alexander Lightwood, but Magnus has a good feeling about the blue-eyed man.

He follows up with the trio a few days later, booking an appointment for five hours - his longest professional commitment ever, if his memory is correct - at his personal studio again. But this time, he's developed a plan to get one on one time with each of the Lightwoods - Alexander, of course, included.

This is why, when they stumble into his office (early, this time) Magnus smiles somewhat deviously and says, "Welcome back, everyone!"

"It's nice to be back," Alexander answers first, the picture of professionalism. Flustering him later will be so much more satisfying. "Whatever you have in mind, we'll be ready to work on immediately."

"While that's nice of you to say, Alexander," Magnus responds smoothly, purposefully drawing out the man's name. Alec's eyes widen and his cheeks momentarily turn red, but he swallows it down as if he refuses to be the subject of momentary embarrassment this time. "I have something else in mind. I want to take individual shoots with all of you. I rather liked working with you on our separate occasion and am hoping that we could all become . . . friends. It's nice to have allies in the business."

"We're happy to be here," Isabelle offers first, flashing him a dazzling smile much like before. She would easily fit in with his social circle, Magnus thinks - she's not only beautiful, she's confident and headstrong and knows how to take command of situations.

"Wow," Jace says after a moment. "That's . . . it's very generous of you."

"And while you all are getting set up, I'd like to negotiate one more term with all of you," Magnus starts, crossing his hands neatly as he springs his trap. "I will double your salaries provided one thing." The Lightwoods temporarily go into shock. It's a shame, really, seeing such beautiful people so disarmed.

"Whatever it is, we can make it happen," Alexander answers for the group quickly. "That's an incredibly steep reward, and we'd hate for you to think you're throwing away your money." The designer laughs.

"Well, I'm happy you're on board with this, Alexander," he responds back, a grin enveloping his features. "I want you to model for my new line as well." Predictably, the oldest Lightwood is flushing, much like their first interaction.

"I'm not a - "

"Agreed," Isabelle states cheerfully, extending a hand. "Just don't start making out before the second date. I'm afraid Alec will implode, and I can't loose my favorite brother. Finding a new manager would be a nuisance."

"Favorite brother?" Jace frowns, eyes narrowed. Alexander continues to sputter. It's not befitting of such an attractive person, but damn, it's cute.

"Brilliant!" Magnus beams, lips quirked up in a mischievous manner. "I'll admit, finding another manager as hot as your brother would be challenging as well, so I'm forced to accept that deal. Let's begin then, shall we?"

"Jace goes first," Alec blurts out, running a very nervous hand through his hair. "In case you were wondering. I've got no idea what I'm doing, and there is no way I'm going first."

"Fair enough. Isn't the saying 'save the best for last', after all?" The caramel skinned man feels another wave of triumph envelop himself at the way Alexander falls into a coughing fit. Isabelle laughs and points at her brother, asking if he wants a glass of water so he can clear the air he just choked on out of his throat. Jace tries to hold back a smirk and fails rather miserably.

He's very easy to startle, the Lightwood. It's going to become Magnus' new favorite pastime, he's sure.

Jace's shoot goes relatively easy. The blonde is arrogant and snarky, and this might have intimidated most people, but Magnus Bane was certainly not most people. He rather prided himself in being sassy and contrary when the situation demanded it, and after being best friends with Ragnor and Raphael, even the worst of attitudes could be stomached with ease.

He has a feeling that Jace was a good person, though. He was obviously strong, emotionally stupid, and oblivious, but it was clear by the way he talked about his siblings that he would give the world to them, that he loved fiercely and deeply and once you were on his side he never gave up on you. The blonde, in another life, might have been unbearable to be around - by the angel, Jace is nothing if not stubborn - but here, Magnus can appreciate him.

At the end of the blonde's segment they are not the best of friends, exactly, but Magnus likes him. He likes Magnus - respects Magnus, even. And that is enough.

Izzy, on the other hand, is just as much of a whirlwind of ferocity as he expected. She is clever, wonderful at improvisation, and can change her expression and tone with just a lift of her brow at the drop of a hat. It's incredible, working with her, and her witty remarks and great conversational skills make the strong-willed girl a pleasure to do business with.

She's great at pulling off outfits, actually, and she prances around like they're made to be worn by her. It's no wonder that the Lightwoods have grown so successful so quickly; with models like Izzy, there's really no limit as to where they can go.

That, and she manages to sneak in some details about Alexander. For example, he likes reading and is secretly a complete sap for romantic comedies and is a master at archery. Nothing too damning, but it's good information to build something on all the same.

Either way, he's enjoyed his time with the Lightwood.

And then Alec walks in, and all thoughts on his time with Isabelle are thrown out the window.

It's just . . . Alexander should be a model. He should really, really be a model.

His hair is falling into his eyes, which are flashing with brilliant blues in unease, and his hands are pulling at the hem of his navy vest, his tie is undone, and his black skinny jeans are doing amazing things for his legs. Sure, they're Magnus' clothes, the ones that Magnus picked out, but honestly he can't seem to focus on the clothes themselves when their model looks so attractive.

"I'm sorry if I did this wrong, I had no idea what I was doing," Alec mumbles, looking sheepishly at his dark converse - the only non-brand name item on his body. "Is this what you wanted?"

"Better, actually," the dark-haired designer manages, which is good considering he didn't think he was capable of intelligent speech. "You look . . . "

"Normal, but in a vest?"

"Great."

"Good, then, because I feel like a nervous wreck. Is that typical?" Alexander breathes, letting his shaky fingers pass through his hair.

"Absolutely acceptable, darling. It's perfectly natural for your first time." And yet Magnus can't help but feel the excitement bubble up in him, because not only is Alexander beyond hot, clever, and a great manager, he also has somewhat of a personality, and frankly he seems perfect already. Even the fact that he's nervous about being seen in pictures is cute as opposed to concerning.

"Darling?" A dark eyebrow is cocked.

"Well, what would you prefer? Honey muffin? Sweetheart?"

" . . . Darling is fine," the manager amends. "Better than fine, actually."

"I'm glad that you agree because that's your nickname now. Forever. No exchanges."

"Forever?"

"Yup."

"A pretty long time to have just one nickname, don't you think?" Alexander hedges in carefully. "And besides, you can just call me Alec like everyone else."

"But that's boring. I'm not anything like anybody else," Magnus pouts, and for the first time his companion smirks back, a smile forming on his face that is crafted only for him. It turns out that Alec is rather agreeable when broken out of his shell, somewhat. "I'll tell you what, by the end of the session I'm going to pick another one. Just for kicks."

"Something better than Darling?"

"In addition to Darling."

"Damn it."

"Aw, and here I thought you liked it. My mistake." Alexander Lightwood laughs, a full and open sound, and then instantly looks surprised by it, as though he couldn't quite remember the last time that had happened.

"Sorry, I'm usually a lot more professional. I'm . . . I've been making a fool of myself since I came into the room, right?" He instantly reverts back to a confused, shy puppy, and if it weren't detrimental to the process of getting to know him than it would almost be endearing. Sadly, Magnus doesn't want to reestablish a barrier between him and Mr. Perfect after every five sentences, so it's more irritating than charming.

"Not at all," he assures nonetheless, and with that they begin. Alec clearly has no idea what he's doing for the first minute or so, and he tends to glance sideways at Magnus as if expecting scolding, but soon he's performing just as well as either of his far more experienced siblings. "You say you're not a model?"

"I've never done this before, no."

"It doesn't show in these shots at all," Magnus declares, flipping through the photos on his camera. "I daresay you're a natural."

"What? That can't be right. Let me see those," Alec mutters, walking over and standing behind Magnus, glancing at the shots over his shoulder. They're back-to-chest, flush against eachother, and it's more distracting than the designer would like to admit. "Sorry," Alexander adds awkwardly as he realizes their proximity. He tries his absolute best not to pay attention to their positioning, but Magnus knows he's far from oblivious to it by the way his ears have become a curious shade of red. "So, I look terrible."

"You look great, trust me. Front cover material."

"I'm no model, really. I mean, thanks for the opportunity and all, but would you see my face in this one? And oh god, why on earth am I posing like that? This is embarrassing."

"No, it's not. You're pretty amazing at this, actually. I don't give out compliments easily."

"You also said I had gorgeous blue eyes the first time we met, and that clearly wasn't true." Magnus almost has to snort at that.

"Alexander, honestly, I didn't say your eyes were pretty in order to give you an ego boost or to make you feel better. I'm surrounded by pretty people almost constantly and if I had to stop and drop compliments at their feet for no reason than I'd be here all day. I don't exactly give out pity." At this point, he clasps Alexander's hands. "You're gorgeous. It's a fact. And you'd be a wonderful model."

" . . . thanks, then." The sound is hesitant, his face pale, but his lips are twitching upwards despite his shy exterior. This time he doesn't try to dispute anything, simply nodding.

"Of course, Blue Eyes. I hope we can be friends." Magnus then smirks, snapping his fingers. "Blue Eyes! That's nickname number two!"

"Oh, come on, Magnus, you can't call me Blue Eyes. That would be as bad as me calling you Glitter Hair," Alec groaned instantly. The switch from out-of-his-element to argumentative almost gave the designer whiplash. Shy and clueless as to handle positive attention mixed with extremely feisty and opinionated was an interesting combination, but then again, 'interesting' has always been a quality Magnus was attracted to.

"I would still respond to that, you know."

"Well you would. I think Jace would just about kill me if I ever called him anything like that."

"Jace?"

"He was the first normal guy I could think of."

"You need more friends. It's a good thing you met me, then, Blue Eyes," the dark skinned man said, saying the words as a joke but meaning them completely.

"Are you trying to befriend us now? For real? Is that what this is about?" The questions are tentative, not quite trusting, and given the tightly knit nature of the Lightwoods that had already been observed this didn't surprise Magnus. Their family was clearly very strong and small, fortified with barrier after barrier, and they were used to only having eachother. Actually knowing people outside of one another - actually having a person take a genuine interest in them, not being friendly because of work or pick ups or interviews - was probably a rare occurrence.

"Naturally, Darling. And that's why you have to come back next week." His attractive companion's head jolts up immediately at that, utterly confused.

"Next week?"

"Yes. I need to pencil another appointment with my future family members, don't I?"

"You're really committed to taking me out of my comfort zone, aren't you? The fake flirting is probably hilarious to you."

"One hundred percent," he responds, winking. "I have to win you over somehow."

" . . . Now I'm leaving."

"Love you, Blue Eyes! Until next time!" The last thing Magnus saw before he left to go change and head back was Alec's black converses drumming on the floor.

Instantly, he pulls out his phone again.

How is it possible for someone to be so confident and composed in one moment and then a mess of nerves the next?

Ragnor's instant response fully displays his exasperation.

This is about that guy, isn't it?

Oh, naturally.

God, Magnus, you've interacted with him all of twice.

Never stopped me before.

Oh, I'm well aware of that. Ragnor's dry tone emanated even over text, it seemed.

So, is it wrong that I find that attractive? Like, that I enjoy making him completely flustered? It's ridiculously easy to do. It's like he's never been hit on before.

He's never been hit on Magnus Bane before. And that is a terrifying, very intense experience, I'd imagine.

Wow.

I have surprisingly bad taste in best friends.

It's a good thing I'm becoming friends with Blue Eyes now - I'm sure he'll be much better company. The designer just knew Ragnor was rolling his eyes.

Blue Eyes? You already gave him a nickname?

And Darling. He also has to respond to Darling now.

Thank the angel I never entered a relationship with you.

You're not my type . . . Sorry?

Don't apologize. I much prefer my own boyfriend.

Raphael is even more of a grouchy old man than you. And he of all people brings you joy?

Yeah, yeah, he's not Alexander I'm sure.

Damn straight.

Good night, Magnus. Go bug Cat about your perfect crush.

Aww, Ragnor, you don't have to pretend that you don't care about my love life. I know you're still there.

. . . Ragnor, come back.

Don't ignore meeeeeeeeee.

Ragnor.

Raaaaaaaagnoooooooor.

. . . Dang it.

Ragnor had clearly turned off his phone, that jerk. And, ultimately his manager, so he couldn't exactly ignore him tomorrow in retaliation.

Even his best friend's (unnecessarily cruel) dismissal of his conversation couldn't make him feel upset. Magnus was in a high brought on by ebony locks and brilliant cerulean orbs, and nothing could interfere with that. Not even Ragnor.

"Ah, here are my favorite models!" the designer smiles, clasping his hands. "Today I've booked you up for six hours, as you were already aware."

"So, two hours each?" Izzy interrupts, smirking at her brother with a conspiratorial look. "Or maybe just five for Alec? Jace and I could accomplish everything in half an hour, if need be."

"More like an hour each and then a movie. If we want to get through all of Miss Congeniality then you'll have to work fast. Then we'll move into Knight and Day."

"Magnus, did you seriously just put us down for the whole day so we can watch Netflix with you?" Alexander's question is incredulous and impossibly naive, and with an extravagant sigh, Magnus responds.

"Well, do you have another way to convince hot people to come binge on outdated comedies with you?"

" . . . not really, no."

"Then I suggest you zip it and prepare for the shoot. You're sitting next to me on the couch when we start, alright?"

"Oh, I'll guarantee it," Isabelle cackles maniacally, her devious matchmaker streak presenting itself. Jace merely snorted at Alec's blush.

No awkward stuttering today, though. It was a shame, really.

"Right, then. Izzy, I have the perfect ensemble for you . . ."

Predictably, everything went well. The shoots were much quicker than expected, the atmosphere was perfect, and the models were - as always - very attractive. However, his favorite part of the day was when he jumped next to Alexander on the couch and laughed as the man flushed.

"Someone's rather red, Darling." Apparently that made it worse, because within seconds he went from firetruck level vibrancy to a deep crimson.

"Just . . . shush."

"Aw, aren't you having fun?"

"Employer or not, I will attack you if my face gets any redder. Stop enjoying this so much, please."

"I can't. You're far too cute."

"Magnus, no."

"You know, if you stopped distracting me, I could actually focus on the movie instead of you, Blue Eyes. Now I've missed the explosion."

"Magnus."

Their rather odd route towards friendship is going well, he thinks. At the very least, the other Lightwoods seem to find it just as amusing as he does.

"You called?" Alexander says, his face rosy for a reason that has nothing to do with teasing for once. It's freezing in New York, and there was little else that could be done for the negative degree weather than slapping on a coat and calling it 'good'. As it was, the Lightwood had snowflakes in his hair and stuck between his eyelashes.

His incredibly long, dark lashes.

This kind of prettiness really wasn't achievable.

"Yup. I wanted to show you in person," Magnus stated, quickly looking over Alec. "You're cold, which is to be expected. I'm getting you hot chocolate." He raised an eyebrow.

"Hot chocolate? What are we, six?"

"No, you're six, I'm six and a half. There's a difference." The dark haired man snorted.

"Really? And what makes you the oldest?"

"I'm cleverer. I can comprehend the fundamentals of this universe, like the need for hot cocoa on winter days. Suck it up, Alexander, you are getting a cup and you are going to like it." Magnus frowned at his own choice of words. "Wait, where are Isabelle and Jace? You never go anywhere without them."

"In their flats, like I should be. You requested that we should be coming over really last minute, and Jace is seeing a movie while Izzy and Simon, her boyfriend, are going on a date. I was the only person available." He clapped his hands together. "So, you said you had something you wanted me to see?"

"Yes, but let me get this straight; you came here alone, Blue Eyes?" Alec nodded. "While your siblings are going to be occupied for the next several hours?" He nodded again, albeit with more hesitance. "Good."

"Good?" The manager's nose scrunched up. "What does that mean?"

"As of now, you're under house arrest. You have to stay locked up in my building drinking hot cocoa for the entirety of today. I'm very sorry to inform you." Magnus Bane wasn't sorry. He wasn't sorry one bit.

"I'm not -"

"Leaving so soon? Why, Darling, of course you couldn't - you only just arrived. Stay a while?" Alexander was actively fighting back the flush, now. It was endearing, seeing him try so hard to suppress it.

"Just, why did you call me over?" With a sigh, the designer produced a copy of his new magazine.

"Look familiar?" On the front, taking up the entire cover, was Alec Lightwood, smiling brightly. Magnus had captured that one when the man hadn't been paying attention, holding in a laugh during one of the first shoots, and it had turned out beautifully.

"Oh my god," he said, sitting down on a randomly placed chair within the studio. "You used photos of me."

"Of course I did. You're the best model."

"No I'm not. I'm the sibling of the best models."

"Darling, I have no idea why you don't believe me when I tell you you're attractive. The world certainly agrees with me - my brand's sales have gone up by nearly fifteen percent in the last few days since this issue has been released. Trust me, you're the reason why."

" . . . It looks okay."

"Fifteen percent increase is not okay. You are gorgeous, trust me. I'm sure lots of other designers are dying to invite you to their studios and force you to spend time with them," he assured, snatching back the magazine. "Luckily for me, I got to kidnap you first. Now you get to hang out with me for the next ten hours."

"Ten?" Alexander repeated, trying to convert the words into a question but producing a sound closer to agreement instead. "That's a long time. You're gonna get bored of me after about ten minutes."

"Never. You're far too pretty."

"Liar."

"Nope."

"Kiss up, then."

"Ah, closer. Maybe I just enjoy flattering attractive men I've managed to sequester in my house." The Lightwood ducked his head. "Oh, Darling, don't be jealous. You're far more handsome than all the other ones, I assure you."

"I hate that I blush all the time around you. You're way too good at making me uncomfortable, you know that?" When he turned back, he was still glowing from the praise, completely off guard. This was, admittedly, the best part about messing with Alec.

His new favorite pastime, for sure.

"Making people uncomfortable is a gift, Darling. Never forget it."

"Just get me your stupid hot chocolate, okay?" Magnus grinned.

"With pleasure." He kissed him on the cheek on the way out, saying something along the lines of 'your face looked cold', and then left to go find milk.

Oh, today was going to be amazing.

Alec is -

God. It's illegal for someone to be so mind-numbingly attractive without trying.

He's the most freaking adorable thing Magnus has ever seen, from the way he carefully blew on his hot cocoa ("It's too warm, alright, don't judge me!" "Alexander, darling, it's been half an hour. I think you'll live.") to the way he jumped each time the roof shook from the storm ("Aw, I'll protect you, Alec." "It's loud, okay? It startled me." "For the fifth time in a row, apparently.") to the way he bit his lip when he was trying not to laugh ("It's not funny, Alexander." "The Great Magnus Bane, falling on his face when getting off the couch? No, not at all." "And here I had assumed you were perfect, Blue Eyes."). They actually do end up spending the entire day together, just hanging out, raiding the fridge, and jumping from activity to activity. At one point Alec wanted cookies and they actually began to attempt baking some. Predictably, his pristine silk shirt was matted with dough at the end, but he couldn't even be mad about this clear affront to fashion. Alec outweighed the sacrifice easily.

He may like the manager a little too much.

Just maybe.

If Magnus is up until five in the morning looking through Alec's social media, nobody needs to know, anyways.

After that, he and Alexander just happen to meet up again to 'discuss renewal contracts', which is a nice way of saying that they spent five minutes agreeing to continue their arrangement and the next five hours walking around the city.

They go to lunches, get some groceries, and buy some horrendously cheesy movies from the dollar section of a supermarket.

The month after, they're grabbing coffee together and catching a concert in the park.

The month after that, they've graduated to seeing plays and viewing film festival specials.

And now, exactly three months later, Magnus has somehow convinced Alec the not-model to come with him to an executive party. It feels like a life goal.

"So you've got the suit?" the designer huffs into his phone, standing outside of the building. They agreed to meet up for the function at the doors, though Magnus repeatedly offered to pick him up at his apartment. Clearly, the Lightwood had shot that down.

"Yup, I'm wearing your suit. I can't tie the tie right, though."

"That's fine, Darling, just don't wrinkle it."

"The tie or the suit?" he questioned through the muffled speaker. Magnus smiled wryly.

"Both."

" . . . Well."

"Well?"

"The tie itself may be a little strangled, but overall the suit's still not destroyed." Magnus tried not to laugh. He did, honest.

But nope. There it was.

"By the angel, you're hopeless," the designer smirked, shaking his head. "How are you real?" Alec huffed with fake indignance.

"I've been more concerned with making sure Izzy didn't tear her way through all of the guys in New York and keeping Jace from starting any spontaneous fires than my personal appearance, Magnus."

"It's a shame, really. And now you're a model." Alexander stopped talking for a while. The other man was seriously concerned that he'd died. "Alexander? Are you still breathing?" Following a sharp intake, there comes his companion's voice.

"Nothing, just, you said I was a model?"

" . . . Yeah, why?"

"I beg to differ. I'm really only one for you." Alexander, with that, canceled the call, leaving a rather confused Magnus Bane holding his mobile on the street.

Blue Eyes didn't mean it that way, did he? Because Magnus would give just about anything for it to be that way.

Did Alec have any idea what exactly he did to him, anyways? It was terrifying in the most incredible capacity.

"Think fast," says a man behind him, gently tapping his shoulder, and Magnus promptly looses his train of thought. Perhaps he made his suit a little too well.

The Lightwood was clad in a sharply cut hand-made piece done up in rich black velvet, though it appeared to be a deep navy in the right light, much to the designer's personal pleasure. The jacket was thick and very, very well fitting, complete with shining glossy buttons and a fashionably slim cuff. Beneath this was an ebony button up, just as precise and well constructed as the other pieces. It was fastened almost entirely to the top, where the last two buttons remained undone. Around his neck, slightly crumpled, was the troublesome tie, a shimmering silver. Paired with a sheepish smile and rather well groomed hair, Alec looked amazing.

Well. It was safe to say the designer's libido would have tons of new material after tonight.

"You look . . . really good, Blue Eyes," he said, swallowing. "Really, really good." He was staring, wasn't he? Magnus Bane didn't stare. He was the one people stared at.

What was happening to him?

"Thanks. You're not bad yourself," the black haired man replied, smiling.

Magnus happened to look incredible, as always. Decked out in varying shades of deep purple and midnight blue, accentuated with hand-stitched black detailing, his outfit was unique and vibrant. Additionally, his long-flowing overcoat, which was a dramatically flaring thing that billowed impressively in the wind, did nothing but add to the effect. Dark glitter and streaks of crimson, orange, violet, and azure lined his expertly-styled hair. In short, he more than looked the part for this event.

Still, though. Alexander was amazing.

"Thank you, Alexander," is what he manages to choke out. He shook his head and offered an arm. "Shall we?"

The Lightwood rolled his eyes fondly. "Alright, but don't get too excited. I'm only doing this for you and I don't want to stay too long."

"You won't have a choice. They'll abduct you."

"Protect me?" Alec smirked, batting his lashes. It did funny things to the designer's internal organs.

"Absolutely, cross my heart." He meant it, sadly.

As they walked into the building and up to the correct floor, it was clear that the event was already in full swing. Music poured out of every nook and cranny, associates were mingling, drinking, and dancing, and the buffet was open. It was the typical executive function that Magnus simultaneously lived for and despised. It would be far more enjoyable if he could just attend with Catarina or Tessa, but sadly they were rarely available for them and Ragnor often had to talk with other people (such as his past contractors and suppliers, which he usually went over fiscal account checkings with; the man hated it, honestly, but that was his burden to bear as Magnus' manager and there was little to be done about the matter now). Thank the angel Alexander was with him now.

And, as predicted, he was immediately pounced on.

"Oh, Magnus, who's this young man?" says one of his competitors, instantly glancing the Lightwood up and down with obvious interest. "Surely not one of yours? He's far too handsome." Alec was flustered but held his ground. Magnus' constant prying had provided him with a new immunity against compliments.

"Alexander Lightwood, my future husband," he deadpans with a tight and overtly possessive smile, grabbing Alec's hand. The manager snorts loudly, though he blushes. Sadly, this does little to deter her.

"Monique, pleasure to meet you, Alexander. Lightwood, you said? Like Izzy and Jace?" she tries, attempting to keep up conversation.

"My siblings, yeah. They really inherited all the good genes, if their paychecks are anything to go by."

"I'll bet. But speaking of good genes, you were hardly left behind in the cosmic lottery. I don't usually do this, but you have the bone structure of a top model already. Now, how would you feel about -" Alexander, noticing Magnus' concealed scowl, squeezed his hand.

"Sorry, but my apparently my so-called fiance has places to be. So, if you'd excuse me, ma'am . . ." he says neatly, dragging the caramel-skinned man away. The move around a little bit, avoiding staying in any place for too long with the threat of talking to other people looming over their heads. In all honesty, the appearance itself was more important to Magnus' image for the company than actually socializing.

"I love you, Darling. I need to say that more often."

"I bet you tell all the guys that."

"Only you, Blue Eyes," he tells his companion, absolutely serious. Alec stares at their interlaced hands and can't come up with a response to that.

They grab drinks an hour in, downing them in record time before another competing label comes to talk to Alec, clearly identifying him as fresh meat to the industry, and some new fabric shipper pesters Magnus about sales. After two hours, they grab cocktail foods from the buffet, munching on snacks in the back. When three have slipped by, Magnus can sense that his partner is clearly dead on his feet. As they head for the door ("Alec, you've done your part, we can go." "Are you sure? Isn't this important?" "Yes, but I don't really care. Let's go and get some good italian food down the street." "Are you sure? I can tough it out?" "Yup. Come on, Darling." "It's not inconvenient?" "I swear, Alexander, if you don't shut up in five seconds I will ditch you, it's fine.") they are stopped by a face the designer hadn't seen all night.

"Ragnor, finally!" he said, hugging his oldest friend tightly. The older man grunted in surprise and sighed.

"Yes, yes, it's me, stop crushing my ribs."

"This is Alexander, so play nice. He's your future brother in law, if anybody asks." Ragnor lifts a brow and the Lightwood cuts in.

"He's been telling people we're fiances all night. It's the quickest way to make them uncomfortable," the man supplies.

"We're madly in love, too," Magnus adds, intertwining their hands once more and kissing his palm suggestively. Alec facepalmed.

"Why are you like this?"

"I'm only like this for you, Alexander, you should feel special."

"Is this what you have to put up with every day?" Alec questions, wincing in sympathy for Ragnor. "The horrors you must face . . ." He nodded solemnly.

"It's a struggle. I don't know how I do it."

"Betrayer," the be-glittered man frowned. "I regret this. I don't like it. Alexander, you should wait outside, I should never have trusted you around my manager." The Lightwood shrugs, holding back his amusement.

"Don't wait too long, alright? It's cold out tonight." With that, there were two.

Ragnor stared at him for an uncomfortably long amount of time.

"What? What do you want to say?" he finally said, sighing. "Was he too tall? Too short? Not funny enough? What's wrong with him?" His best friend, after a moment of thought, shook his head.

"Nothing."

"You don't have anything bad to say? You always have something to say about them."

"He's good, I think. That worries me. If something looks too good to be true than it probably is."

"I told you he was perfect." Magnus laughed, slightly. "For once I was right, wasn't I?" He rolled his eyes.

"Yeah, whatever. He's okay, I guess."

"Is this approval I sense?"

"Go leave with your fake fiance and stop bothering me. He's probably a popsicle by now." The caramel-skinned man winced.

"Ah, shoot, let me -"

And then he's gone, and Alexander is waiting patiently despite the inordinate amount of wind, and they're walking down the road and life feels a little bit perfect.

After the next round of shoots, Magus posts the photographs on his official website, the comments section of which positively explodes over pictures of Alec.

"You're a thing now," he says to the black haired man, who was currently scrolling through the thousands of notes. "You're even trending. And you said you weren't model material." The Lightwood shrugged, but there was a grin pulling at the corners of his lips.

"They really like me, don't they?" He's pleasantly surprised, though his companion can't begin to fathom why.

"Of course they do, Blue Eyes. You're amazing." The other man, now nearly immune to Magnus (an unpleasant byproduct of spending so much time together - Magnus has started to miss the days he could compliment Alec and he'd blush like a high school freshman), merely sighed in a 'what will we do with you' way. The designer continued to smirk impishly and began to text Ragnor when Alec was once again distracted.

You have to help.

Are you dying? My boyfriend is in town and I'd much rather spend my time with him.

I'm more fun than him. And your boss.

Lucky me.

Really.

As if you'd be alive without my constant supervision.

True, true, but you also go to me for your paycheck so you'd need me alive either way.

I hate it when you're right.

I'm sure you do.

But really

- really -

I need serious help.

We've all known that for years, Magnus. He couldn't help it. The designer tried not to snort in front of the most gorgeous man alive (TM).

Alexander is killing me with his adorable-ness. It's like a sugar rush for my eyes.

. . . Do I have to respond to this?

Like, can I just ignore you?

Do you even want a second opinion or do you just want to brag about Alexander again?

I mean

The latter

Obviously

Don't you know me at all?

Sadly?

Yes

Again, sadly.

Wowwwwwwwwww

I'm leaving now.

Have fun with your boyfriend.

I wish

Go be an old man with Raphael

Tell him hi for me!

Absolutely not.

Just like that, he was gone, and Magnus was alone with Alec Lightwood again, who was still on the website, exploring the comments section.

"'Hotter than the sun?' How can people just put that out there for a complete stranger to read? Wouldn't it, I don't know, make you self conscious or something?" the blue eyed man said, looking incredulous.

God, just everything he did. He'd never had a crush this long and deep and damning before.

"Well, the internet isn't filled with innocents like you, Darling. Here, everyone's clinically insane, just like me."

"I feel so bad for the world."

"I'm a joy, excuse you," Magnus pouts as his companion laughs, and he honestly feels lighter than he has in years.

They're at an actual showcase when it finally happens.

It feels like he's been waiting forever.

Maybe he got to do a small collection for some big event in which a small demonstration would be necessary and maybe Magnus spent the last month designing and fitting everything. Maybe he insisted that the Lightwoods be his star models for the event. And maybe, just maybe, he made Alexander the very last one and the finale to his grand performance because he has a thing the size of a small planet for the other man.

Just maybe. Possibly. Perhaps.

But it started, and after some other girls went out, Izzy was displayed in an evening gown of gold and fuchsia that trailed to the floor, followed by Jace in a dashing tunic and a freaking cape, which Magnus had to admit was one of his best works.

Alec, though. Accompanying his ensemble, Alec got a brilliant scarlet coat that fell nearly to the ground and moved fluidly with every step (which was Magnus' pride and joy and frankly was inspired by the previous manager himself - simple yet elegant, and utterly fantastic). It was different, eye-catching, and so utterly unique that it would end the collection with a resounding bang.

"Are you nervous?" he asks, glancing Alexander up and down. "You look like a million dollars, so you shouldn't be." He tossed him a halfhearted smile that betrayed his unease.

"It's . . . I've never done anything like this. I'm not the confident one. There's a reason why I took care of business and Izzy and Jace were the stars." He bit his lip. "I have no idea what I'm doing here. This is crazy, right?"

Magnus, in that moment, had a stupid idea.

A very, very stupid idea.

"It can't be any crazier than going out with me, huh?" he said, lifting Alec's chin. The way his eyes widened, by the angel, it was almost funny.

"You didn't, did you?"

"Ask you out? Of course."

"Oh my god, you just did. Of course you did." The Lightwood laughed shakily. "It's always you, isn't it?"

"Always me? I'm sure I don't know what you mean, Darling."

"You're just you! You flirt with me and confuse me and make me feel flustered and banter every day and hang out with my sister and I shouldn't feel like this all the time. But I can't even complain about it because I can't even gripe about you and your stupid face." Alexander paused for breath, running a shuddering hand through his hair. "See, this is what happens. The words just fall out and hit the floor and I can't stop. By the angel, this was stressful enough when all I had to do was walk in a straight line in front of other people. What the hell am I going to do now?"

Sometimes, you see, Alexander had a way of saying too little or too much. But right then and there, with Alec up next and the production about to end and everyone sweating in the small backstage platform, he had said just enough.

Magnus had wanted to say all of that for forever, too.

"Say yes, I'm hoping. To a date." Alexander blinked.

"You did hear what I just said, right? About you?"

"Every word. And I have to admit, I couldn't have laid it out better myself." He glanced out at the walkway. They had time.

"Magnus, what are you -" And then they were kissing, the taller man's hand curling around the base of Alexander's neck while the other came to cup his cheek. A muffled squeak of surprise arose from the other party, who quickly reciprocated with enthusiasm, slotting lips onto lips and moving eagerly in all the right places. There was a warm sort of affection that could only be described as magical, and which the designer had never really felt before. Was this just what Alexander felt like? Like sunshine and better days and all things good in the world? A decade could have gone by, or five, or five thousand and neither would have cared. All that seemed to matter was the spark passing from mouth to mouth, bold and bright and rather new.

Sadly, there was the pesky matter of his career, so with an open sigh he broke away, leaving the Lightwood reeling in shock. He was winded, too, but Alec certainly didn't need to know that. He would make a point to bother him about it later.

"Go, Blue Eyes, and try to remember how to walk in a straight line in front of other people. If you make it through that alive, we'll go on that date." The man, pressing his fingers gingerly to his lips, nodded quickly and tried to stutter out something intelligent. When nothing came out, he merely gave up, and hearing his que, he turned and walked onto the set. Magnus wandered out to watch and was very pleased with what he saw.

Alexander was moving as though the rest of the world simply wasn't there, as though he had been doing this for the entirety of his life. His red coat billowed dramatically and his shoes thumped pleasantly on the floor, steady and certain. On his face, with locks that had been slightly carded through (Magnus smirked, knowing he was the one who was able to steal that man's breath away only minutes ago), was the widest, most happily surprised smile Magnus had ever witnessed.

It was the grin of a man who was in love, and Alec had it.

Magnus didn't need a mirror to know that he had it, too.

He doesn't even manage to tell him 'hello' before Alec is at his mouth after the performance, kissing him against the exit door like nothing else matters. Magnus reciprocates and is soon struggling to remember his name.

"I . . . told you, I'd . . . oh . . . take you out," the caramel-skinned man managed between contact, attempting to recall the words.

"I've been thinking about kissing you since the first day I met you," Alec responds, very unfairly remembering how to talk. "I couldn't wait any longer." He pecked him again and grinned, too excited and hopeful to even begin to feel sheepish. "You're impossible. I really, really like you."

"Diddo," Magnus manages, wondering how exactly he had gotten so lucky, and if instead of going to an actual restaurant on an actual date like normal people they stumble back to his studio and make out like teenagers, that's absolutely fine.

Their first date occurs at a small hole-in-the-wall brunch place and ends with a walk through Central Park, in which the rain begins to fall unexpectedly and they are stranded in the downpour until they manage the trek to Alec's flat, where they pass out absolutely exhausted on the sofa (and no, not in the fun way), legs tangled together.

The tabloids catch them after the fifth date, and the press is on them non-stop for the next six months after that. Everyone wants to know how Magnus Bane was able to snare rising model Alexander Lightwood before all the other competing brands even got the chance to implement him in shoots.

"I kept pestering him since day one," he tells the reporters with a smile reserved solely for his boyfriend. "Somehow I got him to go out with me because for some strange reason he liked me back. Every day I'm so, so happy my best friend hired two late models who got stuck in traffic."

"I'm the lucky one, actually," Alec always claims, rolling his eyes far too fondly. "I'm going to spend the rest of my life with this one."

Much like his uneventful origin story, it appears the truth will never reach the eyes of the public, which isn't disappointing at all. Some secrets are best preserved when they are left alone. One thing was for certain, though; the model and the designer were a pair, and they were there to stay.

Why did I write this?

I am the cheesiest person alive but at least I can say this has decent grammar. That's one thing I have going for this.

Anyways, I wanted to finish this oneshot that I had in my documents for forever now. I'm trying to get things completely out of the way and I'm attempting to become more organized and efficient so I can update other stories more often. As a result, here is this.

I tried, I swear.

In any event, here's some malec fluff, kids. If you want to see some (marginally better) AUs, go read and favorite my other oneshots. I promise you that they are okay.

Thanks for reading, have a good day!