New Beginnings
Underhill weaves his way through the numerous guests, shaking hands and making polite conversation. There had been no reason for security. Not tonight. The young man takes in the array of colors, the happy, mingling crowd, and the proud and lovely couple in the middle of the room. Yeah. Underhill muses to himself with a soft smile on his face. Not tonight.
Despite being in the Institute, he feels out of place. After a few awkward minutes of mingling at the dessert table, the head of security finally decides to plant himself on the edge of the crowd. He’s never seen so many Downworlders and Shadowhunters in the Institute at a time. Or at least, he’s never seen so many Downworlders and Shadowhunters in the same room without a fight breaking out. In fact, the room is so full of celebration that he doesn’t even know where to look, eyes drawn towards a new spectacle every few seconds.
But in the end, it’s a loud boisterous laugh that draws his attention to the center of the room. And it’s the sight of a handsome young man that keeps it there. The man is surrounded by a crowd of people. His arms wave animatedly above him as he retells what seems to be a no doubt riveting story. Sparks fly from the tips of his fingers, and Underhill can’t help but be mesmerized with each glittering path.
Warlock. Underhill tries to think logically.
Handsome, good-looking warlock. His brain supplies, quite unhelpfully.
Underhill forces his eyes away from the man and tries to go back scanning the crowd. Tries.
But after a few unsuccessful minutes, Underhill gives up and allows himself to gaze upon who he’s now recognized as the new High Warlock of Brooklyn. Underhill can’t quite seem to remember his name, but he remembers all the times Alec would complain and curse out the man in his office when he thought no one was listening.
But in the light of the room, the warlock doesn’t seem threatening at all. In fact, he’s absolutely gorgeous. Underhill sighs quietly to himself before grabbing another drink.
He watches as the warlock slowly drifts away from the other guests towards the dance floor, melting into the beat like he’s made for it. Over the edge of his wine glass, he sees the High Warlock of Brooklyn join young Madzie, spinning her gracefully.
Underhill tears his eyes away almost embarrassed and forces himself to look at anything, anyone else. His smile softens around the edges when his scanning eyes land on the happy couple. Maybe it’s the sight of their intertwined hands. Maybe it’s the sight of the two ladies pressed against one another in the middle of the dance floor. But the next thing he knows, he’s making his way over to the middle of the dance floor as gracefully as he can. He arrives just in time to hear a deep, playful voice.
“You’ve got some moves, young warlock.”
“She’s not the only one who’s got some moves.”
Underhill blinks twice, hoping that came across as smooth as he had hoped.
The man cocks his head to the right. Whether it’s an invitation or a challenge, Underhill can’t tell. Well - to be fair - Underhill’s finding it kind of hard to think at all. It had been easy to admire his fitted suit and charming smile from afar, but up close Underhill began noticing all the little details. Like the small wisps of hair escaping his ponytail. And the dark polish coating his nails. And - oh, dear Lord - the way he hadn’t stopped moving his hips since their conversation had start-
“A shadowhunter complimenting a warlock?”
Underhill’s eyes snapped back up to the warlock’s face. His expression is light, but his eyes are wary and calculating. Underhill accepts the statement for what it is. As a response, Underhill sticks out his hand, praying to the Angel that it’s not too sweaty.
“Andrew Underhill.”
Lorenzo seems to accept his gesture for what it is as well (an invitation,) but the High Warlock’s expression doesn’t change. Andrew can feel the beginnings of a blush begin to creep up his neck under the man’s calculating gaze. But finally, finally, the warlock takes his hand.
“Lorenzo Ray.”
Lorenzo Ray. Underhill thinks as they release grasps. Lorenzo Ray.
“Want to get some drinks?” Andrew allows himself a small smile, and to his delight he sees Lorenzo has done the same.
“Yes, I… I think I would like that very much.”
They make their way off the dance floor to grab drinks: a light martini for Lorenzo and a red wine for the other. When they’ve settled at the edge of the room, Underhill lifts his glass.
“To new beginnings.”
Lorenzo’s eyebrows raise and, in the gentle glow of the room, Andrew swears he can see a slight blush tainting the warlock’s cheeks.
In lieu of an answer, Lorenzo flicks his hand, sending a small daffodil floating down into the other man’s beverage.
“I’ll drink to that.”
Bonus:
“I told you.” Alec’s grinning like he’s just won the lottery.
Magnus lets out a small huff. “How the hell could anyone have predicted that? I’m pretty sure Underhill didn’t know who he was till tonight. How did you know?”
Alec’s smile grows impossibly wider as he watches Lorenzo and Andrew dancing slowly in the middle of the room. “We Shadowhunters seem to have a thing for warlocks.”
