I dunno why I wrote this, but here it is. Inspired by this
”Alec, I know you’d prefer anyone over me, but I’m all you have. Come with me and have some fun. You’ve been cooped up here all week.”
Alec sighed, shutting the book in his hands with a loud thud.
Clary’s shoulders tensed, but her gaze was firm and her stance stubborn. She wasn’t backing down.
“Maybe I like being here,” Alec huffed, even as he stood to put on a jacket.
“You do, but not this much,” Clary said. When she didn’t continue, Alec sighed again. He found he did that a lot lately, especially around Clary. She was a very exhausting person at times, okay?
“I think I’m allowed to be frustrated,” Alec defended as he slipped on his boots.
“Yeah the first two days. You’re just being dramatic now,” she chuckled.
Alec scowled to shut her up, but that only had her laughing for real.
“I still don’t get why I’m not allowed on this mission. Even Magnus could go!” He opened the door and gestured for Clary to lead the way. He had no idea what her plans for them tonight were. All she’d said was that they were going out to ‘lift his spirits’ or whatever.
“I didn’t get to go either,” Clary pointed out as she headed towards the front doors of the Institute.
“I’ve been a Shadowhunter since I was born, you’ve been one for what, three days?” Alec grumbled. He startled when Clary started to laugh. Ever since they’d gotten Jace back and stopped Valentine, Clary had been very … blissful. He couldn’t blame her, but he was struggling to adjust.
Once they stepped outside, Alec searched for his stele in his back pocket. When he drew it out, though, Clary put a hand over his. “Nuhuh big guy, we’re mundanes today.”
Alec groaned but put his stele away nonetheless and followed Clary down the street.
She stopped outside an innocent looking building with a sign reading: Irish Pub.
Alec had never met someone from Ireland, but he’d heard they were very festive. Like Magnus. Magnus was festive.
And Alec was pathetic.
He pushed the warlock to the back of his head - because honestly, Magnus never really left his thoughts - and walked inside.
Clary dragged him to the bar right away and ordered three rounds of shots. While Alec had never been big on drinking, he was willing to do everything to kill some time. Being alone with Clary in the Institute was boring. Clary herself certainly wasn’t, but Alec just simply couldn’t spend all his time around her, lest he go mad. Clary was growing on him, sure, but not that much.
He was pulled out of his thoughts when Clary pushed him into a booth and took the seat opposite him. She gestured to the shots glasses lining the wooden surface between them, and after a brief moment of hesitation, Alec took the first one and knocked it back.
It burned down his throat, and he and Clary gagged together. Neither of them were used to drinking it seemed.
About an hour or two later, both he and Clary were drunk out of their minds. The room was spinning and they were both giggling like fools, talking about nothing and everything.
They’d already talked about Izzy’s impressive ability to fight in heels (“she uses a whip, Alec! In heels! That’s dangerous!”) and now Clary was moaning about Jace.
“Robot, he is,” she insisted. She hiccupped once before continuing; “are those a thing?”
“Fuck if I know,” Alec mumbled. Clary wasn’t speaking very clearly, and some of her words were in the wrong order, Alec was sure of it, but he got the idea.
“Is he always like that?”
Alec had to slap himself to clear his head a bit and register the question. “What? Oh, uhm, yeah, p-pretty much.” He wasn’t sure what he was agreeing to, but his gut told him he was on the right track.
“I’ll send him s-some angry emojis,” Clary muttered suddenly as she pulled out her phone.
“You’ll send him wha’?” Alec asked. He leaned forward as Clary pushed her phone towards him. Little smiley faces lit up on the screen, completely red in the face. Alec clapped delightedly. They were adorable.
God, his hungover tomorrow would be terrible.
“I love them!” he practically shouted.
Clary tried to send him a weird look, but she just scrunched up her nose, and they both started laughing. “Here, you ‘ave them too, I’ll show ‘em to you,” she slurred as she snapped her fingers at the outline of his phone in his pocket.
She pressed his screen a few times, and then sent a message to herself, containing a pig emoji and a gun emoji. “That’s me shooting Jace in the face.”
Alec burst into laughter and fell over the table, knocking over a few of the glasses. Then, he got an idea, and he shot back up to send Clary a wide-eyed look. “Let’s send some to Magnus!” he hissed under his breath, as if the warlock could hear him, despite being god knows where with Alec’s brother and sister.
Clary squealed as Alec fumbled around to find Magnus’ contact. He’d last texted him last night, albeit briefly, to make sure everything was going according to plan. He worried, okay? Magnus may be immortal, but he was accident-prone. He got into all kinds of trouble if left without supervision.
“Wha’ should I send?” he asked Clary.
“Uh, there’s a crystal ball! Send him that! Cause he’s a wizard ‘n stuff.”
Alec did as asked, and then added a garbage can for good measure. Before he could press send, Clary stole his phone and added a burger and a beer. Then, she pressed send.
Within minutes, Magnus was sending him back three question marks. Clary covered her giggle with her hand as Alec sent a creepy, gray moon with a face on it.
His phone started buzzing, and when Magnus’ face and name flashed on his screen, he panicked and threw the phone at Clary. Somehow, despite being drunk off her ass, Clary managed to catch and answer it.
“’Ello? Yes. Yes. No. But he- yeah. I’ll ask.” Clary removed the phone from her ear, and blinked at Alec a few times, before her eyes lit up, as if thought remembering what she was supposed to ask.
“Wanna talk to Magnus?”
Alec nodded eagerly, a smile slowly spreading on his face. “Hey babe,” he chirped once he had the phone pressed to his ear.
Magnus seemed stunned into silence for a few moments. Alec supposed it was quite unusual for him to use nicknames, but he couldn’t remember why. Magnus was a babe. The prettiest babe. Alec’s babe.
“Hello there, Alexander. Mind explaining your little tirade?”
“They’re emojis!” Alec responded enthusiastically. In front of him, Clary threw her hands in the air and cheered “EMOJIS” at the top of her lungs.
“Indeed. Your brother is calling for me. We should be home tomorrow morning. You and Clary can stay in the loft. Less judgmental Shadowhunters there.”
“D-deal,” Alec muttered before calling out his goodbye and ending the call.
“Let’s send him more emojis,” Clary blurted as soon as Alec had lowered the phone.
This time, instead of just sending emojis, they tried to tap out a message. It didn’t end well.
Marg🐝nus Bame ✈️✈️ you are hhot 🔥 and Clary 😈 loves you 🙏🏽💕
Clary giggled and shook her head when Alec pressed send.
“My turn!” she crowed.
The next text Magnus received was a blundering mess of emojis that ranged from vaguely inappropriate to downright creepy.
When Alec and Clary managed to stumble out of the pub and to Magnus’ loft, it was pitch black outside. Alec somehow managed to guide them to the loft and find the spare key Magnus had hidden in case Alec forgot his key. Despite Clary using the flashlight on her phone to light up the keyhole, it still took Alec five tries to jam the key in there.
They stumbled inside together, clinging to each other and the walls so they wouldn’t go tumbling to the ground. They never made it to a bed; simply passed out on the floor on a new, fluffy rug Magnus had recently “bought”.
The next morning, Alec woke up with a pounding headache. He and Clary were lying back to back with a blanket spread out over their bodies. He was pretty sure none of them had been in their right mind to get that last night, and he faintly recalled Magnus saying they’d be back from the mission sometime today.
Right he was. When he looked up, Magnus was smiling at him fondly. “Good morning,” he said, far too loudly.
Alec winced and curled into the rug. It really was quite comfy. He shushed Magnus and waved him away.
“Now now, Alexander, that’s no way to treat your warlock returning from war.”
“Stealing a blade from a pissed-off vampire is hardly a war,” Alec scoffed as he clambered to his feet. Clary snuffled in her sleep, and Alec couldn’t help but smile. Maybe she wasn’t too bad. She had taught him about emojis after all.
“We… messages?” he stuttered. He worried he’d never be completely coherent around Magnus, but to Alec’s defense, he hadn’t realized until now that the warlock wasn’t wearing a shirt. He seemed to be in the middle of stitching up some smaller wounds.
“You did send me some, yes. I was quite entertained, if I’m being honest.”