Alexander Gideon Lightwood is an unholy menace. Magnus comes to this conclusion the fourth time they have sex, after he’s been stripped by Alec’s deft fingers and pinned to the bed by Alec’s thighs and hands, Alec’s mouth trailing feather-light kisses down his throat, teasing his nipples to hardened points, mapping out Magnus’s torso like he’s trying to memorize every inch of him with his lips and tongue. He pauses whenever Magnus makes a sound, presses a smile to his skin, and he’s so clearly delighted that Magnus would be entirely charmed if he wasn’t currently being slowly driven out of his mind.
He’s still pretty charmed anyway. He’s just also going slightly insane with sexual frustration.
Alec hasn’t even touched his cock yet. More to the point, Alec is still mostly dressed, which is entirely unacceptable, but when Magnus reaches up to start undoing his pants, Alec takes both his wrists and pins them to the mattress. Magnus could, of course, break free if he wanted, but what he does instead is moan helplessly, arching his hips up like he can get some friction that way. Alec kisses the hinge of his jaw, then lifts his head to look at him, flushed and grinning.
“You like that,” he says in a tone of delighted revelation, shifting his grip on Magnus’s wrists, pressing him down with his not-inconsiderable strength.
“Smugness is very unattractive on you,” Magnus lies breathlessly, and Alec catches his earlobe between his teeth and tugs slightly before trailing kisses back down the side of his throat. Magnus rolls his hips up again, rubbing his cock along Alec’s denim-clad thigh, and Alec takes a shaky breath and then shifts back slightly out of reach.
He’s still grinning, though. “No, it isn’t.”
“No,” Magnus agrees. He rolls his hips up again, but Alec is too far away to thrust against, holding himself up so that Magnus can’t reach him without wriggling free of that firm grip on his wrists, which he definitely doesn’t want to do. “It isn’t. Are you trying to make me beg?”
Alec lifts his head again, his eyes gleaming. “Would you?”
“I’ve created a monster,” Magnus groans, dropping his head back to the pillow.
Alec’s fingers skim lightly up the underside of his cock and then vanish like they’d never been there at all when Magnus tries to arch up into his touch. Bastard. Lovely, infuriating bastard. “So is that a yes, then?”
“Of course it is,” Magnus breathes. The remaining shreds of his dignity demand that he adds, “But you’re going to have to work for it.”
“I can do that,” Alec says, grinning, and leans down to kiss him.
All told, it takes him less than five minutes to reduce Magnus to begging, and he doesn’t let go of Magnus’s wrists until he’s sliding down to take Magnus’s cock in his mouth. Magnus thinks, dazedly, that of course his Alexander had to turn out to be a god damned prodigy at this, too.
It’s a while before he thinks of anything else other than Alec’s hot, slick mouth and the pleasantly bruised feeling in his wrists and his own breathless voice urging Alec on.
A menace, indeed. What a wonderful surprise.
The thing is, Alec doesn’t really know what he likes. His entire sex life up until Magnus consisted of shameful fantasies and furtively jerking off in the shower, which doesn’t really prepare him adequately for the reality of sex involving another person that he’s actually allowed to touch.
The addictive nature of that particular revelation carries him through their first time together, and a few times after that. It helps that Magnus seems eager to offer himself up to Alec’s clumsy exploration, exquisitely responsive even when Alec has no idea what the hell he’s doing.
It takes him longer to realize that Magnus is carrying out an exploration of his own. It’s not exactly that he’s subtle about it, just that all of this is so new to Alec that it takes him a while to figure it out. Eventually, though, he understands what it means when Magnus grins sharply at his blushes and groans, when he pulls back every time Alec hesitates. Magnus isn’t exactly being careful with him, but he is, it seems, compiling a list of Alec’s reactions to every new experience.
Tickling is something he’s not a fan of, he discovers. Magnus doesn’t do it again. The firm drag of Magnus’s hands over his thighs, up his back, into his hair--that feels amazing. Magnus’s mouth on him feels amazing. Magnus’s fingers in him, fucking him open slick and slow while his other hand soothes over Alec’s back and Alec presses his burning face into the pillow to smother his moans--
Yeah. Amazing is one word for it.
There’s one thing, though, that they both figure out at the same time, more or less by accident. Alec is on his knees, breathing fast and shallow through his nose as Magnus’s cock slides over his tongue, Magnus murmuring a steady stream of endearments and encouragement above his head and cupping his head with one gentle hand. His jaw is starting to ache, and he feels lightheaded, hot all over, wildly turned on even though Magnus has barely touched him.
He reaches down to palm himself through his boxer briefs and groans around Magnus’s cock, and Magnus swears in a language Alec doesn’t know, his fingers clenching in Alec’s hair hard enough to make his eyes water.
Heat swoops low and unexpected through the pit of his stomach.
He breathes in sharply through his nose. Magnus releases him all at once, murmurs, sorry, sorry, and Alec doesn’t want to pull off, isn’t sure he could speak if he did, so he catches Magnus’s hand with his fingers and guides it back to his head, squeezing until Magnus gets the idea.
“Like that, is it?” Magnus breathes, and grips Alec’s hair, tugging sharply. Alec moans again, feels his cock pulse against his palm, pre-come dampening the thin cotton. He’s suddenly in danger of coming before Magnus does, just from this, except that Magnus is using his grip to guide Alec’s movements, rougher than he usually is, thrusting up into his mouth. It’s less than a minute later before he comes, his fingers tightening in Alec’s hair then loosening to stroke down his face, over his swollen lips as Alec breathes raggedly against his thigh and shoves a hand in his underwear to bring himself off.
For a while afterward they just stay like that, breathing together. Alec closes his eyes as Magnus’s hand slides over the back of his head again. He feels loose and warm and blissfully solid.
Eventually, Magnus shimmies the rest of the way out of his pants and slides down to the floor to pull Alec into his arms. Alec drops his head against Magnus’s shoulder, noses at the corner of his jaw, breathes, “Hi.”
“Hi,” Magnus says. “That was… unexpected. Are you okay?”
He doesn’t quite sound worried, but there’s a slightly cautious quality to his voice. Alec lifts his head just enough to press a kiss to Magnus’s throat, then to his lips when he turns toward Alec.
“Yeah,” he murmurs. “I’m great.”