In my body
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Summary:
Post Erchomai. Magnus is without magic. A massage - never enough massage fics for me - and reconnecting. Pondering the loss of magic. Alec POV
Notes:
I just wanted to write some massage goodness, because of MuscleMemory's soul-soothing fic Your Soul To Keep, even had an old draft I wanted to work on, but then it just wanted to be about Magnus without magic, and the old one didn't fit that. So i made a new one. There's SOME massage in it, i guess.
(See the end of the work for more notes.)
Alec knows his instincts were right, when Magnus’ soft little hums - there mostly for Alec’s sake and guidance- change into something more unraveled, broken up and involuntary.
For a moment longer he lets Magnus breathe under the full weight of his body, Alec’s front lined up to the backside of Magnus, splayed out beneath Alec. He’s carding his fingertips along the muscles of strong arms, a slow drag of pressure from shoulder to wrists.
As Magnus exhales, Alec feels the air leave his lungs only in increments, uneven. Holding on to so much deep tension. He rubs his chin along the tendon of Magnus’ neck, languid movement sliding and soothing along the oil-slicked skin; when Alec looks down, his stubble has left patches of a gentle reddish flush in its wake.
He ghosts another kiss against Magnus’ nape, then props himself up again, knees shifting to straddle Magnus’ thighs, giving Alec’s hands better access to the glistening expanse of Magnus’ back once more.
Alec has chosen the setting they’re in deliberately. Even if he tried to not over think, to not consciously calculate every detail, he finds now that he was right, going with his gut;
When Magnus came out of the bathroom -warm, showered and dried off- Alec led him to lie down on the floor, instead of their bed. There are cushions for Magnus’s head and for beneath Magnus’ ankles, yet the floor is still hard under Alec’s own knees now, even with two layers of thick bathroom towels in place to protect the carpet from the excess of oil Alec has been using.
Alec wanted a surface with no give, unlike their mattress, to help him maintain balance, since he always intended to work with all of his body with this. His movements need to be controlled and sure.
Alec wanted a surface with no give, because right now he wants Magnus to feel himself against it.
He was right in making sure the room temperature was turned up higher than usual, because ever since the loss of his magic, Alec’s swears Magnus’ body runs at least a degree colder.
Alec strokes long slow swipes outward from Magnus’ spine to his sides, using his knuckles and the heel of his hand to employ the gently varying pressure he needs, answering the tightness in the contours behind shoulder blades. He leans into it, carefully pushing his entire forearm along broad muscle, trying and smoothing out kinks, coaxing them to warm up and let go, bit by bit, over and over, until his own skin prickles with circulation.
Alec knows that Magnus experiences physicality differently now. He can observe it in the way that there’s hesitance in all things bodily these days with Magnus. In the things they share, and don’t share, and it’s not like Magnus doesn’t trust Alec with it, rather than that he doesn’t seem to trust himself the same anymore, that he has to relearn how.
Alec’s hands on Magnus back start to slightly tremble with the exertion, so he pauses, leans down to rub and rest his forehead between Magnus shoulders, shifting the way he’s kneeling and hooking his ankles together over Magnus’. Like this, the backs of his feet are two more warm pressure points on Magnus' calves. He doesn’t want Magnus to feel cold anywhere, and he breathes calm and steady onto Magnus’ skin, in between the lightest caresses of lips.
There’s movement in the corner of his eyes, the fingers of Magnus’ hand on the floor next to them, slowly closing and opening again, absent-mindedly. So Alec reaches over and intertwines their fingers, just for a moment. Magnus squeezes back.
It makes Alec’s throat tight.
Of course Magnus must feel altered on a cellular level, because he is. A part of him was torn out, cut off, after being elemental to his identity, his sense of physical integrity for his whole, long life.
A complex system of energies, regulating, protecting, buffering; feeding back on itself and all other functions of Magnus’ being. Currents of wild electricity, that seemed to know, to recognize and accommodate Alec as well, every time he and Magnus were close.
If Alec can sense the absence, be it in the slight coolness of Magnus’ skin, or, somehow, in the different tone, the deep vibrations of Magnus’ movements, the ever present hum of it… He cannot begin to imagine what Magnus must feel like.
Alec sits up a bit more and reaches for the massage oil again, discarded on the towel close by. He pours some more into his hands, the scent of sandalwood refreshed in the room, and places his palms on Magnus’ thighs, just below his ass, above where Alec is sitting. The thin layer of oil from before is rubbed off here already, soaked up by the coarse hairs on Alec’s own legs rather than Magnus’ lighter ones. Alec lets some more trickle down Magnus’s skin, along the faint line where Magnus’ leg meets ass, drawing slow deliberate circles into the viscous liquid with his thumbs.
He remembers the flash of uncertainty, quickly covered up in a smile, even as Alec suggested a massage.
It’s a big part of why Alec has Magnus like this, now, on his front, head turned to the side on top of a pillow. Eyes closed. Because as much as Alec likes to see Magnus’ face, he does not want for Magnus to be tempted to show or hide anything, to moderate just for Alec’s sake.
Right now, he just wants Magnus to feel. To feel good. To feel better. Even if Magnus can’t seem to find the words to talk about it yet.
He wants to show Magnus that this body is still his, can still give him pleasure, as much as it gives him pain. And Alec doesn't need words for that. For now.
He pushes his palms over Magnus’ back, spreading the oil up to his neck, before he props himself up on the towel beneath them once more, and drags his whole body on top of Magnus again. Alec’s sigh at all the sensations is echoed through Magnus, the controlled, slow slide of skin on skin, friction of hairs and hip bones and Alec’s hard nipples. The sensitive tip of Alec’s cock is pressed against the small of Magnus’ back, and even half-hard, Alec is sure that the heat of it alone must be distinguishable from the rest of his body to Magnus.
He hopes Magnus knows that he doesn’t expect for this to lead anywhere, that they just can be together like this. Even if that pull is there, affecting Alec like it always does, with Magnus’ presence pervading all of his senses.
Alec uses the hard planes of his chest and abs, a full body motion, muscles coiling, rolling down on Magnus, until there’s no place left untouched, no place left uncovered. His dick aligns with the cleft of Magnus’ ass, as Alec brings his hipbones down against the fullness of it, and the sounds that fall from Magnus’ lips are shot through with broken up breaths again.
“Alec, please.“
Alec kisses beneath Magnus’ ear, rubs his chin and face against Magnus’ neck.
“You can tell me to stop.” Somehow he needs this to be said, needs Magnus to know.
“I don’t want you to stop, Alec.”
A ripple of heat settles all along Alec’s skin, and for a moment he has to concentrate hard to keep the movement of his hips steady and slow, his own want and need surging through him with an urgency he didn’t anticipate. He pushes lower, and his dick slides into the sweet space between Magnus’ thighs, oil-slick and dragging down over Magnus’ taint.
And it is just one more thing to feel. Even with his eyes fluttering closed, Alec won’t pursue more unless Magnus will ask explicitly.
Because they haven’t been together like that yet. Not since.
Beneath Alec Magnus’ legs fall open wider, and a hand comes up onto Alec’s nape and his hair, pulling him down and closer, where he is kissing Magnus’ shoulder.
“Inside, Alec… I want…” He trails off, swallows, yet Alec shivers with the tone of Magnus’ voice.
Shifting his weight to one side, Alec reaches down between them, finding his own hand a little shaky and jittery. So he bends the whole length of his fingers along the curve of Magnus’ body, fingertips grazing his balls, blunt pressure of the pad of his thumb caressing around Magnus’ hole.
With all the oil, just the very tip of his finger dips in easily, even before Alec really tried for it, but then Magnus’ hand is on top of his, halting his movement.
“No, Alec, just like…you. Your cock.”
“Magnus…”
Magnus' grip on Alec's hand tightens slightly.
“It’s okay, Alec, I showered and… I mean, I prepared myself a bit. I’m relaxed. Just go slow,” Alec’s heart aches over the way Magnus speaks a little too fast, almost stumbling over the words. Alec’s mind is reeling.
Magnus takes in a deep breath. “I want you to, Alec, I want this. Just… slowly.” His voice gains confidence with the last few statements, and Magnus’ hand comes up to Alec’s neck again, and for a moment the lines blur, and Alec doesn’t know who is comforting who, as they cling together, Alec trembling on his own arms.
“Okay.”
Magnus sags down under Alec, tight bend of his body slumping forward onto the towels again. Like relief, like he was honestly afraid Alec would deny him.
As if Alec ever could; as if he would ever want to. He presses a wet line of kisses along Magnus shoulder, slides of lips that turn into grazes and nips of teeth the closer he gets to Magnus’ neck, and Magnus shudders under him.
Alec brings his hips down onto Magnus again, his whole weight to the center of his body, where his hard cock is hot and trapped against the small of Magnus’ back once more. He's repeating the motion, driving Magnus’ entire body up an inch on the towels with the sheer, slow, steady force of it. Magnus’ hand falls to the side, clutching at the towel loosely.
When Alec aligns himself, he spends minutes just staying there, pushing inside in tiny, measured fractions, letting Magnus adjust and bracing himself, until Magnus’ fingernails are scrambling impatiently against his forearms, where he keeps his weight propped up.
Then it’s all slow-paced thrusts, no real rhythm to them, just careful, boundless, dragged out sensation, to the point where Alec’s attuned to all of Magnus’ sounds and subtle shifts; swimming in them.
Soft, high moans keep pouring out of Magnus then, down onto the floor and into the space between them, with every wave of Alec’s movement into him. Magnus' eyes are closed and wet at the corners, but his lips are open, flushed and relaxed.
Alec has to concentrate on simply breathing for a moment, with how full his chest feels.
It takes a while for Magnus to come like this, and even if Alec knows climax was not necessarily was this was about to begin with, he keeps going, even if he’s barely scraping by and holding on, his own pleasure already so close to bursting at the seams.
It takes a while for Magnus to come, but when he does it still feels strangely sudden to Alec: A steady, slow build up, and a shallow glide downwards, a core-deep shiver into peaceful bliss. It’s all painted across the lines of Magnus’ face and the tremble of his body, the sweet and intimate sighs from his throat, that have Alec by the very strings of his heart.
He lets go and comes too then, with a soft shout, inside Magnus, and he can’t help it, allows his shaking body for a moment to be dead weight on top of Magnus again.
Magnus lets out a drawn out breath beneath him, one that feels like he has been holding it in for too long.
It's not words, but it's a start.
When Alec finally rolls to the side, off of Magnus, he reaches a slightly shaky hand down and bunches up some of the towel beneath them, to gently clean between Magnus’ legs.
Magnus hums, moves in close and pulls Alec’s other arm around his chest, leaving Alec to one-handedly work free more of the towel, dabbing it at the most obvious spots of residue oil on their chests and shoulders. He needs to stretch quite obscenely, to not disturb Magnus drifting gently in his arms, but Alec gets a hold of the comforter, pulling it off their bed, and throwing it loosely around the two of them.
Then he lets himself still once more, loses himself in the rise and fall of Magnus' back against his chest.
He will get them into bed eventually.
When their hips will start to hurt on the hard floor.
But for now he just wants to stay like this, feel the static in their joined body heat and how it tickles on damp, cooling skin; clinging to each other.
To be at peace for a moment.
(At peace: Held together tightly by golden sheets, the scent of sandalwood between them, and their calm and content breaths on each other's bodies.)
Title from SYML's song 'body'.
Had to get this out before the new episodes, because yeah. Hope there's something in there for you to enjoy! Lemme know? <3
