“Hey, does this look good?” Alec asks, voice getting louder as he shuffles into the living room, his dress shoes making small noises on the wooden floor.
For the past fifteen minutes, Magnus has been comfortably sat on the couch, waiting for Alec to finish getitng ready so they can leave for their date night. What’s strange is that his boyfriend has been unusually secretive about his outfit, immediately piquing Magnus’ interest. He turns quickly, one arm swinging over the backrest of the coach and all playful words die on his tongue.
Alec looks exquisite, even in the artificial lighting of the loft. He’s wearing a diamond-patterned dress shirt paired with dark pants and matching accesories - the fabric hugs his arms and chest, stretching with every movement of his hands as he buttons up the very top.
Magnus swallows, his throat suddenly dry and nods in lieu of a real answer, eyebrows stuck near his hairline. He’s not that hungry for seafood anymore, he’d rather devour Alec, a five-course meal standing right before Magnus’ eyes. He smiles, thumb pressed against his lower lip and Alec picks up on the well-known tension between them, his mouth curving into a pleased grin, bold and comfortable.
“Who do I need to thank for this outfit?” Magnus hums appreciatively as he stands, crowds against Alec to brush his palms down those broad shoulders hidden under a thin layer of expensive silk. Beneath the desire, beneath all of the fondness Magnus feels for this man, there is pride that Alec feels he can be himself, uninhibited, out in the open like this.
“I may have gotten inspired by my fashionable, magical boyfriend.” Comes Alec’s nonchalant answer and it makes Magnus chuckle. He steps forward, guiding Alec back towards the wall nearby.
“He won’t be able to keep his hands off of you, I’m sure.”
When Alec’s back hits the wall, he gives a little gasp, his eyes twinkling with something mischevious; he knows exactly what he’s doing. Magnus kisses him, hard and like he’s falling, like it’s the last thing he’ll do in his life. It pulls a different kind of noise from Alec’s chest, as their mouths shift together, bodies like magnets until there’s no space left between them.
When they part moments later, both breathless, Alec doesn’t look so smug anymore when he speaks, hands pressed against Magnus’ chest. “Aren’t we going to be late?”
Magnus shakes his head.