Alec is not fighting a grin at his boyfriend's reaction, honest! But hmm, if there aren't any teabags, then: "Maybe there's a recipe around here somewhere?" Alec does love his recipes. For better or (much, much) worse.
He'd start looking, himself, but he gets totally sidetracked by Magnus' answer. Two, almost three months?? That's... "Magnus," Alec sounds appropriately aghast by the revelation, even as casual as Magnus appears to be. He sets down his knives on the nearest counter (Alec, that is not sanitary!) and makes his way back across the kitchen immediately. Danger around them be damned, he's tugging Magnus into a sudden but fierce hug: his fingers are still tacky, but the blood has dried enough that it doesn't transfer all over the fabric of Magnus' clothes, which is good because Alec is grabbing them by the handful, bunched up by his shoulder blades, and holding on like his life depends on it.
He should have just done this before. Hopefully Magnus hadn't been particularly attached to whatever it was he'd been doing a second ago.
But he finally gets it, he thinks. Maybe it's a blink of an eye to a warlock, but Alec can't imagine how it must have felt—he'd been so concerned over just a few nights. "I'm sorry. I said I'd never leave you again and then I—" Well, he didn't actually really do anything? Even at his most-self flagellating, Alec can acknowledge that. But it still feels like a failure somehow. After Asmodeus, and Edom, and— He squeezes Magnus a little tighter, for a moment. "I'm not going anywhere now. Okay?" Words don't mean much, but that's not going to stop him from saying them. And then from doing everything he can to prove himself too.
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He'd start looking, himself, but he gets totally sidetracked by Magnus' answer. Two, almost three months?? That's... "Magnus," Alec sounds appropriately aghast by the revelation, even as casual as Magnus appears to be. He sets down his knives on the nearest counter (Alec, that is not sanitary!) and makes his way back across the kitchen immediately. Danger around them be damned, he's tugging Magnus into a sudden but fierce hug: his fingers are still tacky, but the blood has dried enough that it doesn't transfer all over the fabric of Magnus' clothes, which is good because Alec is grabbing them by the handful, bunched up by his shoulder blades, and holding on like his life depends on it.
He should have just done this before. Hopefully Magnus hadn't been particularly attached to whatever it was he'd been doing a second ago.
But he finally gets it, he thinks. Maybe it's a blink of an eye to a warlock, but Alec can't imagine how it must have felt—he'd been so concerned over just a few nights. "I'm sorry. I said I'd never leave you again and then I—" Well, he didn't actually really do anything? Even at his most-self flagellating, Alec can acknowledge that. But it still feels like a failure somehow. After Asmodeus, and Edom, and— He squeezes Magnus a little tighter, for a moment. "I'm not going anywhere now. Okay?" Words don't mean much, but that's not going to stop him from saying them. And then from doing everything he can to prove himself too.