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His Dark-Haired Boy on the Steps

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“He took a deep breath, and crossed the floor of blades and constellations to the other boy’s side. He stood at the foot of the stairs, looking down.


“But of course,” he said, very softly, “your sentiments are reciprocated.”


He stooped over him, tilting his chin up. Their lips met. The other boy made a soft sound, almost like surrender, stretching under his body. He slid an arm around his neck and pulled him down onto the stairs.”


~An Unidentified Snippet, from Cassandra Clare’s Tumblr


Despite wanting this to happen for so long, Alastair was left in shock by the result. Standing on the first step of the London Institute, in a moment that he had thought, would most likely never come. After not being able to handle bottling things up any longer, he had confessed his true emotions to Thomas, not sure of the response he would receive. Fortunately for him, the response was very positive. 


Alastair was using one hand to brace himself against the banister with the other grasping the back of the Lightwood boy’s head. Thomas, leaning down to kiss the smaller boy, had one hand on the back of Alastair’s head, fingers wound in his hair, and the other gripping his waist. The two locked in a moment of passionate exchange.


It took a moment for Thomas’s senses to catch up with him. He was acting purely out of impulse and adrenaline at the moment. He had not taken a moment to realize that, while it was very dark, the two were still very out in the open and still very exposed to anyone passing by. Thomas broke away from the kiss, his hand still firmly holding onto Alastair’s waist. “Alastair,” he said, breathless.


“Yes?” the smaller boy answered, there was a worried look in his eyes. A worry that Thomas could place the source of. 


“I’m not sure if this has crossed your mind,” the lighter haired boy began. “But we are somewhat in the middle of the stairwell and a sight for any passing person.” Just then, as if on cue, Thomas heard a small voice call out to him from a little way down the corridor. Little Alexander Lightwood, who must have wandered off from the ballroom, was making his way down the hallway toward Thomas and Alastair. 


I have to deal with this before anyone comes looking for him. Thomas decided. He leaned down to Alastair’s ear and spoke in a low voice, “Just a moment.” He detached himself and made his way toward his youngest cousin. Due to the difference in size, and ability to walk efficiently, it did not take Thomas long to scoop up the small boy and escort him back to his older brother Christopher who was meant to be watching him. Thomas found Christopher deeply engaged in a conversation with Henry Fairchild. Thomas placed Alexander in Christopher’s arms, without Christopher noticing, and made his way back his dark-haired boy on the steps. 


Alastair was still processing the events of the last few minutes. One moment he is in a conversation and the next he is kissing Thomas Lightwood, the one he has wanted for quite a bit of time. He had previously imagined what it would be like. To kiss the boy who had once followed him around at the academy. Tender, soft, sweet. And where it was that, there was so much more that had come from Thomas. Passion, longing and a desire only matched by Alastair’s own. When Thomas had broken away from him, he had an inkling of fear that Thomas would think of this as a mistake and leave. Whether or not the hazel-eyed Lightwood had thought that, Alastair couldn’t tell due to an interruption from the youngest of the Lightwood family. Though Alastair had to admit, it was an adorable sight to see Thomas carrying the child.


“Mr. Carstairs, you do look as if you are waiting for someone,” Alastair heard a voice say to him. Looking around he was met by a witchlight and Anna Lightwood looking at him with a faint smirk on her face. “Or,” Anna suggested. “Judging by the state of your hair, you have just been left?” Alastair felt a flush come to his cheeks. He didn’t quite know how to answer. “Any response, or am I just to be left alone to speculate?”


“I would have to say both of your assumptions are correct,” Alastair said, looking Anna in the eyes. She was a few inches taller than him, standing on the steps helped. 


“And are you out here having exchanges with random men or have you finally managed to confess to my cousin?” Anna asked, genuinely intrigued.


“I’d have to say the latter,” called someone from behind the two of them. It was Thomas with a slight smile on his face, clearly pleased by the words he had just spoken. 


“I will leave the two of you then,” Anna stated, already in the process of walking toward the ballroom. “I have to find Ari anyways. Though, a suggestion, Tom.” She said. “There are several guest rooms upstairs, make use of one of them rather than hogging the steps.” With that comment, Anna made her way back to the ballroom.


“That was interesting,” the taller boy said, he seemed to be amused by their circumstances. He approached Alastair, placing a hand on the railing beside him. He lifted the other to below Alastair’s chin, tilting his up so he could kiss him again. 


Alastair felt goosebumps go through his body. “On that note,” he interjected. “Are you willing to take Anna’s advice?” He worried that this might be taking things a bit too fast, but he couldn’t help but ask. He saw a gleam in Thomas’s beautiful hazel eyes as he pondered the idea. 


“Definitely,” Thomas said as he pecked Alastair on the lips once more before taking him by the hand and making his way upstairs. Being one of James Herondale’s best friends, Thomas could navigate the Institute with his eyes closed. He found a room with a witchlight already illuminating it. He quietly pulled the Carstairs boy upstairs and into one of the guest rooms. Closing the door and Alastair locking it behind them.