"Say my name..."
Magnus had had many partners during his long life span, yet none of them was quite like Alexander Lightwood. The boy was young, innocent, shy even. Yet, for Magnus that was fascinating, for he knew he could find a lost part of himself as he would guide his lover down the paths of pleasure and happiness. He had taken it upon himself to show Alec that love could be wonderful, and more importantly, he had vowed to make his young Nephilim able to utter his wishes without having an aneurysm every time he would attempt to say the phrase ‘I am going to cum.’ Because there was no shame in finding pleasure with the one you chose to love. Although, if Magnus wanted to be honest with himself, he did love the fifty shades of red his lover’s face would be colored with when he would stutter over the words.
And now, it was one of those nights, a silent night in Brooklyn, with Magnus laying atop of Alec on their king sized bed, his shirt removed, yet his jeans were still in place, for he wished to prolong their game and give Alec the time to enjoy this. Thus, his beloved Alexander was now spread naked underneath him, all sweaty and shaky, lips ajar, breath caught in his throat, hair all messed up, covering his forehead. And those eyes, those sweet, hazel eyes were almost black, filled with lust, anticipation and so much love. “Magnus…” It was meant to be a demand, yet it ended up sounding like a plea, for Alec was feeling as wreaked as he was sounding.
“M-Magnus… Please… I need…” His voice faded as he took in a deep breath, driven mad by Magnus’ tender, yet oh, so erotic ministrations. And the Warlock could only smile, hiding his face in the crook of Alec’s sweaty neck, devouring his deflect rune as though it was God’s nectar. “Tell me, Alexander… Tell me…” He purred, his hot breath sending shivers down Alec’s spine. The shudders shook the archer’s body to its core, causing Alec’s member to pulse in time with his heart, spurring out thick droplets of pre-cum. Magnus only hummed, letting his left hand rest next to Alec’s head, so that he could run his fingers through the young Nephilim’s messed up hair. At the same time, the Warlock allowed his left hand to move downwards, his fingers ghosting over Alec’s sweaty chest, over his stomach and belly-button.
They were moving swiftly, yet ever so gently, as though Alec would break to pieces, were he to be touched harshly. Yes, Magnus’ fingers moved like the tips of a silk ribbon when the soft summer breeze blows, slowly commanding that they caress the fine neck of the woman whose hair they are entitled to hold up. And down and down they went, aware of every curve and every edge, for they had spent endless nights mapping that sculpture-like body. Alec winched, eyes shutting tightly when he felt ring clang fingers ghosting over his sensitive member. “Talk to me, my beautiful boy.” Magnus uttered, his voice muffled by Alec’s flesh. “Ma-Magnus… You know—” “No, I don’t. I need you to tell me.” The Warlock offered playfully, moving from Alec’s neck to his collar-bone, lavishing it with kitten licks and kisses.
“I… I need—” Alec stuttered, not accustomed to the tremendous amounts of pleasure and euphoria which were running through his veins. “I need you to… Touch me.” He finally blurted out, eyes opening half the way. Magnus smiled down at him even more and moved his hand, pushing back black strands of hair from his lover’s forehead. “I am touching you.” He stated, eyeing the black strands he was twirling in between his fingers. “Come on, Magnus stop making me say it!” The Nephilim squirmed, yet his voice was low and husked. The bed creaked when Alec tried to move his hips upwards and the rustling of clothes was then heard as Magnus moved a few inches away from his lover. “Voicing your desires is something you should always do, my beloved Alexander.” The Warlock advised, voice tight but serious.
“It’s not… I don’t… It’s hard, it has always been hard.” The younger man admitted and Magnus knew he was referring to the many years he had to hide from his family. “I know, my dear boy.” The Warlock replied calmly, voice softer than his caresses. “But now I’m here with you, and I’m not going anywhere.” Magnus offered, kissing those puffy lips, allowing his tongue to explore the inner curves of Alec’s mouth. They went on and on, tongues not battling for dominance, but dancing in harmony instead, moving in sync, like magnets drawn to each other, bound to one another. Only when the need for oxygen became desperate did the two lovers break the kiss, hearts pounding as they breathed each other’s exhales.
“Magnus I…” Alec gulped for breath, eyeing his lover through a veil of adrenaline and passion. “Yes, my darling?” Cooed the other man, pausing when Alec opened his mouth again. “I want you to touch me… Make me cum.” He managed to utter, face turning redder than the heart of a bloomed rose. Yet, Magnus was smiling down at him, captivated by the mesmerizing image which was radiating love, beauty and courage. “Your wish is my command, Alec.” The Warlock stated, allowing his ring clad fingers to wrap themselves around Alec’s member.
“I want… Magnus… I…” “I know, my love, I know. It’s okay, Alec. You only have to feel. Close your eyes and just feel.” The man continued, stroking Alec’s pulsing, leaking member with movements fast, yet elegant. He was careful to pull Alec all the way up, allowing his orgasm to build up. “Say my name…” The archer blurted out, yet Magnus missed the call, eyes glued to the man underneath him. Alec’s skin was shining under the dim illumination of the room, as a thin layer of sweat was coating it. The round droplets of salty water were shimmering like small diamonds, causing Magnus’ heart to swell up with love. Soon, low moans of pleasure filled the room, and to Magnus they were the finest music he had ever heard, composing the tale of a young man who was marching down the path of passion…
“Say my name.” This time it was a demand which emerged from within the ocean of pleasant moans and sighs, and Magnus hurried to comply, lavishing his lover’s chest with kisses as he chanted his name in a way only he could. The word was a caress in on itself, soft, yet fiery and strong. “Alexander… My dear Alexander…” Magnus offered as he quickened his pace, knowing the signs which Alec’s body had been giving him. “Magnus.. I… I am… I’m going to…” Alec swallowed hard, his voice shaky, eyes fixed on Magnus’ brown ones. “Cum for me, my Angel. Cum, Alexander, cum and feel, feel my touch, feel it all…” The Warlock muttered, watching in awe as Alec’s climax came crashing down on him suddenly, knocking the air from his lungs as well as the seed from his member. “Magnus!” The Nephilim yelled and the other man silenced him with a passionate kiss, whilst helping him ride out the aftershocks of his orgasm.
Alec was then left boneless, floating on a liquid cloud, with his mind blanked and free of all cares. His hazel eyes were closed, yet a few tears had escaped and were running down his cheeks. “Alec? My darling?” Magnus questioned, slightly worried. Alec only nuzzled into the man’s neck, seeking shelter in his lover’s strong arms and broad chest. And Magnus was more than willing to give him that. “Say m’ name…” The archer muttered, half asleep. “Oh, my sweet, brave boy…” Magnus chanted, kissing his lover’s forehead tenderly.
“Alexander… My dear Alexander…” Magnus said, time and time again, snapping his fingers so as to clean them both up. Alec hummed happily at the tingling sensation of magic and hid his face further in the crook of Magnus’ neck, muttering almost incoherent words. Yet, Magnus crackled, closing his eyes. “I love you too, Alexander…” He stated, falling asleep soon after, with Alec safely tugged in his embrace. Safe, from all the piercing gazes, from the harmful, disrespectful words other people could burden him with. Safe, in the arms of the man he loved.