Ripples of muscles - endlessly stretching and jumping with the force of Magnus’ motions. The delicate, mesmerizing beads of sweat dragging between each expanse of taut, warm skin and how they glisten in the daylight.
Thoughts of pressing his tongue flat against the very base of smooth, exposed navel (just where black sweatpants began to cover a dark yet thin trail of hair), and licking between every dip of flesh until he was satisfied, filled Alec’s mind. Shamelessly, the shadowhunter had gone from merely reading a book on the couch opposite to Magnus’ yoga mat, to having a full fledged fantasy play out in his head of the two of them on the floor.
The sun would bake them of course, summer heat is bleeding into their loft as the balcony doors and curtains were pulled open for Magnus to enjoy the rays of light during his workout. Alec would be panting, with a hot t-shirt clinging to his skin to suffocate him and Magnus would be below: attempting to force him out of it without magic because it was more fun that way. Hands grabbing and touching and petting all over. Magnus would whimper as Alec bit his lip, tasting the salty sheen of his effort, only to remind him of the extremely flexible poses he can accomplish while stretching, to turn him on some more- if even possible.
A low, guttural noise tearing itself unconsciously from somewhere deep within Alec’s throat surprises not only him, but his impressive warlock. Magnus freezes, hand poised in the air with his magic pausing just as he does, the ball of light not still but a soft, gentle sway above his palm. Glancing attractively over his shoulder to look at the shadowhunter, Alec wondered if he could see how wide and dark his pupils are, dilated with the pure want that filled his chest and made it hard to focus on the words printed on paper in front of him?
Sizzling eye contact between them began to boil, this long, never-ending gaze that became hotter with a small blink from Magnus, chocolate brown being easily replaced with glittering gold cat’s eyes. Boring into Alec as a finely placed magnifying glass could fry an ant.
“Don’t let me distract you,” Alec speaks slowly, surprising himself with just how low in pitch it rolled out of him.
“Shouldn’t I be saying that to you?” Magnus quips, in reference to how long it must be taking Alec to finish even a sentence of this book that he can’t remember the plot of anymore. A smirk ghosts his face, “But I think we both know how much you enjoy a show compared to literature. Shall I find you a picture book instead?”
A twist of his body, Magnus decides this to be the best time to let his magic dissipate in the slight, dry breeze and instead he uses his hands to touch his toes while he bends forwards. Alec was very well aware of how he was putting his ass on display, the shadowhunter unable to tear his eyes away from the way nearly see-through fabric clung to his skin.
“If they had what I want in a picture book, I think I’d have to ask you a few more questions about your past.” Alec closes his book now, tossing it across the couch without a care for it’s pages or spine.
Iridescent rainbows play off the chains of Magnus’ necklaces as they paint the ceiling and the shinning skin of his back; Alec was caught in the beauty of him once again. Magnus steadies himself as he straightens out, pivoting gracefully to face Alec fully now, a roll of his neck chasing away any tension in him from his workout.
“And who says you wouldn’t have published it?” Magnus purrs, “I know exactly what pictures you keep on your cell phone.” Stalking Alec as if he were prey and Magnus was a big cat, the warlock moves swiftly to take his place in the shadowhunter’s lap. Hot thighs, stuck to stuffy cotton, frames Alec’s own legs covered by jeans.
Between the two of them they must have been a million degrees already.
Alec’s mouth falls open, large hands skating along Magnus’ bare sides. His fingers teasing the very hem of his pants by dipping just barely inside. “Very flattering pictures,” Alec hums.
Magnus drags his palms flat along his lover’s neck, admiring the large rune along the way; small sparks of magic burning and crackling along the dark line representing deflect. Alec doesn’t jump, instead his eyes close, his head tilting just so to give Magnus more space to do as he pleases. Magnus grins devilishly, taking this as a challenge.
The sparks turn to pure voltage, thin lines of dark red alighting every vein and inch of rune on the side of Alec’s throat; momentarily lighting him up as if each of Magnus’ fingers were lighters and every spark connected like a giant flame inside of Alec. Soft hissing, teeth grinding together, somehow morphs into airy, yet throaty moans. Alec’s eyes jump open on a particularly painful burn of powerful magic that sends heat through his very core, and Magnus raises a brow in silent question, his fingers stilling.
Alec doesn’t know how to tell him, lower lip bitten in pleasure and lashes batting seductively, just how much he enjoys the heat of his magical touch.
So instead, he shows him, lifting his hips just so to press himself against Magnus’ ass planted in his lap- this gets his attention. Magnus earnestly pushing down on Alec’s bulge in return.
“Let’s go to bed,” Magnus whispers, leaning in close to his ear before nibbling slightly on the lobe. Teasing him.
Hands never ceasing their wandering, Alec slides them along the thickness of Magnus’ biceps, coated lightly in sweat that Alec unabashedly wanted to lick clean. “No,” He responds lowly, imagining something different. “let’s go shower.”
( PROMPT: 𝔴𝔯𝔦𝔱𝔢 𝔞𝔟𝔬𝔲𝔱 𝔱𝔥𝔢 𝔥𝔢𝔞𝔱. )
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