A/N: I know Samandiriel was the blade Alec gave to Jace in CoA but I have no clue what happened to it and I'm pretending someone accio-ed it back into Alec's possession. Also, many thanks to my readers for your tremendous support.

By the time Alec woke up, the faint glow of dawn had been replaced by the darkness of night and all too quickly, the day had passed him by. Slowly, he sat up and the emerald-green cotton sheets pooled, almost evocatively, around his waist as he pulled his knees to his chest. The room was dark save for the moonlight creeping in through the large single-paned window and the thin strip of hallway light beneath the door. He turned to the sleeping figure beside him and smiled, captivated by the gentle rise and fall of Magnus' chest. Magnus' quiet breathing was tranquil, like the sounds of waves gently caressing tropical sands on a faraway beach.

Unsure of what to do with himself as Magnus slept, Alec began to unconsciously fidget – flattening his unruly bed hair, picking at the invisible lint on the sheets – before gingerly sliding off the bed with great care so as to not wake his sleeping companion. He pulled on a faded grey t-shirt and then extracted a small brown envelope from the top drawer of his window-side desk, eyeing it wearily as he turned it over and over between his fingers. The sound of Magnus rolling over startled him and he quickly dropped the envelope on the table and quietly slipped out of the room.

As with many antiquated structures, the hallway was dimly lit by a series of small torches along the wall, spaced out between the paintings – depictions of shadowhunter history – and antique decor that ranged from archaic suits of armour to medieval weaponry – each historic piece a labour of the Iron Sisters. Alec padded down the hallway, the floorboards creaking every few steps beneath his bare feet, as he made his way up to the attic in the hopes of burning off some of his energy.

The training room was empty and quiet. Switching on the lights, Alec expertly jumped onto one of the many beams suspended in the air; nearly all of his training had been done in this room and his every movement was muscle memory – every turn and flip was familiar to him. Aided by runes to give him perfect balance and body control, flipping from one beam to the next was as easy as taking a step. Jumping to the floor with a gentle thud, Alec picked up his training bow from the wall of weaponry, a quiver of arrows which he fastened across his back as well as a belt of daggers. Scattered across the room were targets – each mechanically attached to grooves in the wall that patterned up to ceiling, allowing the targets to be moved. He pressed a set of small square buttons on the wall, activating the targets before quickly checking his arrows and taking his place in the centre as the room quickly came to life.

Like a well-practiced routine, Alec had an arrow between his fingers and his bow drawn in an instant. He rolled and sidestepped mental obstructions, firing arrow after arrow – each hitting its mark, and switched with effortless fluidity to his daggers. He parried and thrusted, flicking a few with a quick snap of his wrist that sent them flying into the dead centre of a target in the far wall. Another dagger was immediately in his hands, and he thrusted out his hand and spun. He saw a blur of colour and froze, his body tensed as the tip of the dagger hovered perilously – inches away from Magnus' throat.

"By the angel," he breathed incredulously, moving back with unsteady steps. "I almost killed you."

Magnus seemed unfazed. He held up a piece of folded paper in his hand and narrowed his eyes. "What's this?"

Alec was blank for a second as his thoughts struggled to catch up. Then realisation hit him. "You went through my things?"

"It was on the table with my name on it. I'd hardly call that prying."

"It's a letter." He slowly lowered his hand. "Did you read it?"

He turned his back to Magnus, returning the dagger to his belt before disentangling himself from his gear. Mentally kicking himself, Alec bit his lip; he couldn't decide whether he was glad or horrified that Magnus had found the letter. The letter he'd written days after Magnus had left him in the darkness of the subway tunnel; the letter in which he'd poured his anguish, his gratefulness, his insecurities and his fears – all the words that he couldn't say out loud.

"Yes."

Alec nodded and turned around. "I was going to send it – but I didn't."

"Why not?"

He shrugged. "You said you never wanted to see me again. I didn't think it would've mattered."

"Alexander…" Magnus sighed as he covered his face with his hand and muttered under his breath, "You stupid nephilim."

The flare of anger within Alec rose as quickly as it disappeared.

"I guess I am," he laughed to himself and then collapsed to the floor in exhaustion – his hands haphazardly thrown above his head, his eyes closed. He heard Magnus' muted footsteps at his side and was surprised by the sheer force as Magnus pulled him to his feet. There was a look of murderous conflict on Magnus' face that made Alec wince a little, but tired of being slave to his own emotions, he squared his shoulders and stared back in silent defiance.

Slowly, Magnus' piercing gaze softened. He reached out and – almost absently – ran his thumb over Alec's cheekbone. "You should have told me."

"If you want smart and well-spoken, Jace is downstairs, third door to the left."

Magnus laughed as he leaned in. "I don't think that would turn out well," he whispered before he kissed Alec.

Magnus' lips were soft and he tasted earthy and sweet. The scent of sandalwood enveloped him, and his knees began to tremble. The consequence of his relentless training, Alec told himself – he refused to believe that he was swooning.

"I am sorry," he whispered as they parted, his eyes searching Magnus' face. "For hurting you. For–"

Magnus pressed a his finger to Alec's lips, silencing him, and smiled softly. He held the folded letter between them and it hovered over his open palm before being enveloped in a ball of blue flames. "We both made mistakes."

Alec smiled ruefully.

"But there is something you got very wrong," Magnus said sternly as he held Alec's face in both his hands.

"What?" Alec studied Magnus' face – his piercing golden-green cat-like eyes seemed to bore straight into him.

"You, Alexander Gideon Lightwood," Magnus said soberly. "Were never just another notch on my bedpost, as you so eloquently put." He closed the gap between them. "You've cut clean through."

Alec stared blankly. "What?"

"I meant when I said there is no next time for me," Magnus whispered. "You're all I want and could ever need."

"You can't be sure–"

"Yes." There was no uncertainty in Magnus' voice. "I'm sure."

Alec paled slightly, unsure of what to say.

"That's– I mean–" Alec stopped and swallowed, noticing for the first time that Magnus had changed into one of his old t-shirts and sweatpants which were a few inches too short, revealing Magnus' skinny ankles. "Okay."

He mentally kicked himself – for all that Magnus had said, the only word he could muster was okay. He reached for Magnus and absent ran his thumb across the back of the warlock's hand in a poor attempt to hide whatever it was that always stopped him from saying something romantic, emotional or profound.

"Okay." Magnus smiled, almost knowingly, Alec thought.

He watched Magnus lift his hand and turned it so his palm was open and facing up, and then placed the hilt of a seraph blade squarely in his grasp. His eyes grew wide in confusion and he looked around the room as if waiting for a cue to a script he hadn't been given.

Magnus' eyes seemed to dance as he quickly backed away, rubbing his palms together like in prayer. He brought the tips of his pressed hands to his lips and blew. And like a fire breather, a jet of brilliant blue flame was expelled from the tip of his fingers. As he pulled his hand apart, the river splintered into smaller streams of fire from each of his fingers. Each stream soared through the air before crashing to the floor, seemingly at random, around Alec. Magnus blew out his fingers and the streams concentrated into bulbous masses before taking the form of their master. "I picked up this terrific little trick in a comic book," he said smugly. "I thought I'd help you train."

Alec, jaw-slacked, stared at the ten silhouettes of Magnus surrounding him – each of brilliant blue flame and smirking right back at him. He blinked and turned to the real Magnus. "You're kidding, right? I can't fight–" he gestured to Magnus and his blazing clones, "you."

"No…" Magnus furrowed his brows in thought for a moment. "I suppose not. Here." He snapped his fingers and each ablaze figure changed into Jace. "Marvellous!" he said brightly.

Alec stared in horror. The likeness of each figure was not unlike Jace – at least that's what he imagined Jace would look like if he'd ever decide to put on a leotard or a ballerina dress. He turned to the grinning warlock who was clearly more than amused with his own creation. "Magnus."

"Couldn't you just try?"

Alec stifled a laugh as the figures began to twirl about him. "What exactly are you helping me train for?"

"Jace's coming out party?"

Alec stared at him incredulously. He was trying to be serious but something inside him suddenly ticked and he felt something begin to bubble up from within. The next thing he knew, he was clutching his sides in laugher and it felt like a weight he'd grown used to was lifted.

"I just wanted to see you laugh," Magnus said, smiling.

Alec blinked and Magnus was suddenly an inch away and they kissed, and he wondered how he was supposed to train with his brain so scrambled. When they pulled away, Magnus was back across the room, grinning back at him.

"Now," Magnus said loudly. He snapped his fingers and the dancing Jaces were instantly replaced by fiery ravener demons. Magnus raised a brow. "Better?"

"Much." Taking his position in the centre of the room, he scanned his surroundings and crouched slightly. "Samandiriel," he whispered and the seraph blade came to life in his hands. He rested the blade'stip on the floor and glanced quickly at Magnus, who winked and then clapped his hands. All around him, the demon clones roared with life and lunged at him – all at once. A hard kick to the floor and Alec was in the air, wielding Samandiriel's angelic glow like an extension of his arm.

Circling, Magnus found a support column in the south-end of the training room and dropped to the floor, crossing his long spindly legs as he conjured more flaming clones as he saw fit. Watching Alec dance about the room was like watching a pinball machine – only more graceful – as the shadowhunter flew floor-to-beam and beam-to-beam without the slightest hint of hesitation. Two minutes – or two hours, Magnus wasn't sure – passed and he was still smiling, the sound of Alec's laughter still ringing happily in his mind.

Alec breathed heavily as the exhausted two lay collapsed on the training room floor. His body felt like it weighed a tonne – he'd given up trying to push the hair plastered to his forehead out of his eyes. As his body began relax, he felt the tension slip away and his eyes drifted to a close.

"I still can't believe you set me on fire," Alec breathed – the edges to his sleeves and pants were singed black and there was a fist-sized hole in his shirt above his spleen.

Magnus grunted. "It was a reflex. Self-preservation – I'm allowed to do that when there's a sharp object barreling towards me."

"You shouldn't have been standing there," Alec pointed out. He frowned and began to pat himself down again as if to make sure he was completely out.

"Alec, I've already apologised – twice."

With some effort, Alec rolled over and glared at his boyfriend. "You set me on fire."

A/N: Thanks for reading. Whether you loved it or hated it, please leave a review and let me know.