So how about Magnus who has used all of his energy and is so burned out that he just physically (or mentally) can’t function?
(TYSM for the prompt! Also tagging @andy-selfish-quinn as the reason this got written today – much love to you both <3)
Alec had been at Magnus’ loft for several hours by the time his boyfriend - his fiancé, he reminded himself - opened the front door, key grating in the lock, dropped his things on the floor with unnecessary noise and drama, and stumbled into the living room.
That was Alec’s first clue that something was going on. When did Magnus ever use something as mundane as a key for something as banal as entering his own home?
“Hey,” Alec called out, from the kitchen, when Magnus didn’t say anything. “I’m making coffee—do you want any?”
A muffled jumble of incoherent syllables met Alec’s ears, and his brow furrowed. Was Magnus on the phone to a client, or to a friend? That would have explained the lack of response, but Alec couldn’t hear the hum of voices.
He finished making his coffee, and left it on the side in the kitchen along with a book Magnus had insisted he read (he was halfway through, and horribly, horribly addicted, much to Jace’s amusement) while he headed out to the hallway to investigate.
Magnus was on the floor.
For just a second, Alec’s heart rate skyrocketed, fluttering painfully against his ribcage in a moment of blinding, agonising fear at the thought of Magnus being hurt, or worse—
But the tight band around his lungs eased when he saw Magnus’ chest rising and falling steadily, if a little heavily. His eyelids fluttered, and he turned his head to look at Alec from where he was sitting on the floor, back to the wall, head lolling a little.
“Are you becoming reacquainted with the floorboards?” Alec asked, still feeling mildly concerned, but less so by the moment. Especially when Magnus’ lips turned up, and he made a concerted effort to put as much exasperation as he could into his eye roll.
“I’m burnt out,” Magnus murmured, words slightly slurred.