Disclameir: This is not my story, I'm sort of changing the character name into KaiLu since it was so sweet and I can't stand not to share

Original Pairing: Magnus Bane x Alex Lightwood (MaLec)

Book and Author: The Mortal Instruments special scenes from Cassandra Clare

*

MAGNUS'S VOW

Kai as Magnus

Luhan as Alec

*

Kai lay on the floor of his Brooklyn loft, looking up at the bare ceiling.  The floor was slightly sticky, as was much else in the apartment.  Spilled faery wine mixed with blood on the floor, running in rivulets across the splintery floorboards.  The bar, which had been a door laid across two dented metal garbage cans, had gotten wrecked at some point during the night during a lively fight between a vampire and Bat, one of the downtown werewolf pack.  Kai felt satisfied.  It wasn’t a good party unless something got broken.

Soft footsteps padded across the floor toward him and then something crawled onto his chest; something small, soft, and heavy.  He looked up and found himself staring into a pair of green-gold eyes that matched his own.  Chairman Neko.

He the cat, who kneaded his claws happily into Kai’s shirt.  A bit of Silly String fell from the ceiling and landed on both of them, causing Chairman Neko to leap sideways.

With a yawn, Kai sat up.  He usually felt like this after a party - tired but too wound up to sleep.  His mind was humming over the events of the evening, but like a scratched CD, it kept coming back to the same point and spinning there, sending his memories into a whirl.

Those Shadowhunter children.  He hadn’t been surprised that Dio had finally tracked him down, he’d known Jocelyn’s stopgap memory spells wouldn’t work forever.  He’d told her as much, but she’d been determined to protect the girl as long as she could.  Now that he’d met her, conscious and alert, he wondered if she’d really needed all that protecting.  She was fiery, impulsive, and brave - and lucky, like her mother.

That was if you believed in luck.  But something must have led her to the Shadow hunters of the Institute, possibly the only ones who could protect her from Valentine.  A pity that Robert and Maryse were gone.  He’d dealt with Maryse more than once, but it had been years since he’d seen the younger generation.

He had a vague memory of visiting Maryse and Hodge, and there being two boys in the hallway, about eleven years old, battling back and forth with harmless model seraph blades.  A girl with black hair in two braids had been watching them and vociferously complaining about not being included.  He had taken very little note of them at the time.

But now - seeing them had shaken him, especially the boys, Kris and Luhan.  When you had so many memories, sometimes it was hard to identify the exact one you wanted, like flipping through a ten-thousand page book to find the correct paragraph.

This time, however, he knew.

He crawled across the splintery floor and knelt to open the closet door.  Inside, he pushed aside clothes and various packets and potions, feeling along the walls for what he wanted.  When he emerged, coughing on dust balls, he was dragging a decent-sized wooden trunk.  Though he had lived a long time, he needed to travel light; to keep very few mementos of his past.  He sensed somehow that they would weigh him down, keep him from moving forward.  When you lived forever, you could spend only so much time looking back.

It had been so long since he’d unlocked the truck, it came open with a squeal of hinges that sent Chairman Neko skittering under the sofa, his tail twitching.

The heap of objects inside the trunk looked like the hoard of an un-fastidious dragon.  Some objects gleamed with metal and gems - Kai drew out an old snuffbox with the initials WS picked out across the top in winking rubies, and grinning at the bad taste of the thing, and also at the memories it evoked.  Others seemed unremarkable: a faded, cream-colored silk ribbon that had been Lay’s; a matchbook from the Cloud Club with the words I know what you are written on the inside cover in a lady’s hand; a limerick signed OFOWW; a half-burned piece of stationary from the Hong Kong Club - a place he had been barred from not for being a warlock, but for not being white.  He touched a piece of twisted rope nearly at the bottom of the pile, and thought of his mother.  She had been the daughter of a Dutch colonialist man and an Indonesian woman who had died in childbirth and whose name Kai had never known.

He was almost at the bottom of the trunk when he found what he was looking for and drew it out, squinting: a black-and-white paper photograph mounted on hard cardboard.  An object that really shouldn’t have existed, and wouldn’t if Henry had not been obsessed with photography.  Kai could picture him now, ducking in and out from beneath his photographer’s hood, racing the wet plates to the darkroom he’d set up in the crypt to develop the film, shouting at his photographic subjects to keep still.  Those were the days when in order to render an accurate photograph, one had to remain motionless for minutes at the time.  Not easy, Kai thought, the corner of his mouth flicking up, for the crew of the London Institute.

…

It had been so long since Kai had looked at the photograph that the resemblance between Sehun and Kris struck him suddenly.  Though it was Luhan who had that black hair and those eyes - that very startling dark blue - it was Kris who had more of Sehun’s personality, at least on the surface.  The same sharp arrogance hiding something breakable underneath, the same pointed wit…

He traced the halo of light around Sehun with a finger and smiled.  Sehun had been no angel, though neither had he been as flawed as some might have thought him.  When Kai thought of Sehun, even now, he thought of him dripping rainwater on Lay’s rug, begging Kai for help no one else could give him.  It was Sehun who had introduced him to the idea that Shadowhunters and Downworlders might be friends.

Tao was Sehun’s other, better half.  He and Sehun had been parabatai, like Luhan and Kris, and shared that same evident closeness.  And though Luhan struck Kai as nothing at all like Tao - Luhan was jumpy and sweet, sensitive and worried, while Tao had been calm, rarely bothered, older than his years - both of them were unusual where Shadowhunters were concerned.  Luhan exuded a bone-deep innocence that was rare among Shadowhunters - a quality that, Kai had to admit, drew him like a moth to a flame, despite all his own cynicism.

…

Kai replaced the photograph in the trunk.  He shook his head, as if he could clear it of memories.  There was a reason he rarely opened the trunk.  Memories weighed him down, reminded him of what he once had but did no longer… It was amazing that he still remembered their names.  But then, knowing them had changed his life.

Knowing Sehun and his friends had made Kai swear to himself that he would never again get involved in Shadowhunters’ personal business.  Because when you got to know them, you got to care about them.  And when you got to care about mortals, they broke your heart.

“And I won’t,” he told Chairman Neko solemnly, perhaps a little drunkenly.  “I don’t care how charming they are or how brave or even how helpless they seem.  I will never ever ever-“

Downstairs, the doorbell buzzed, and Kai got up to answer it.

*

Kissed

*

It was printed on thin paper, nearly parchment, in a thin, elegant, spidery hand. It announced a gathering at the humble home of Kai the Magnificent Warlock, and promised attendees “a rapturous evening of delights beyond your wildest imaginings.” —City of Bones

Standing in the stairwell of Kai’ home, Luhan stared at the name written under the buzzer on the wall. BANE. The name didn’t really seem to suit Kai, he thought, not now that he knew him. If you could really be said to know someone when you’d attended one of their parties, once, and then they’d saved your life later but hadn’t really hung around to be thanked. But the name made him think of a towering sort of figure, with huge shoulders and formal purple warlock’s robes, calling down fire and lightning. Not Kai himself, who was more of a cross between a panther and a demented elf.

Luhan took a deep breath and let it out. Well, he’d come this far; he might as well go on. The bare lightbulb hanging overhead cast sweeping shadows as he reached forward and pressed the buzzer.

A moment later a voice echoed through the stairwell. “WHO CALLS UPON THE HIGH WARLOCK?”

“Er,” Luhan said. “It’s me. I mean, Luhan. Luhan Lightwood.”

There was a sort of silence, as if even the hallway itself were surprised. Then a ping, and the second door opened, letting him out onto the stairwell. He headed up the rickety stairs into the darkness, which smelled like pizza and dust. The second floor landing was bright, the door at the far end open. Kai Bane was leaning in the entryway.

Compared to the first time Luhan has seen him, he looked fairly normal. His black hair still stood up in spikes, and he looked sleepy; his face, even with its cat’s eyes, very young. He wore a black t-shirt with the words ONE MILLION DOLLARS picked out across the chest in sequins, and jeans that hung low on his hips, low enough that Luhan looked away, down at his own shoes. Which were boring.

“Luhan Lightwood,” said Kai. He had just the faintest trace of an accent, something Luhan couldn’t put his finger on, a lilt to his vowels. “To what do I owe the pleasure?”

Luhan looked past Kai. “Do you have — company?”

Kai crossed his arms, which did good things for his biceps, and leaned against the side of the door. “Why do you want to know?”

“I was hoping I could come in and talk to you.”

“Hmmm.” Kai’ eyes raked him up and down. They really did shine in the dark, like a cat’s. “Well, all right then.” He turned abruptly away and disappeared into the apartment; after a startled moment, Luhan followed.

The loft looked different without a hundred churning bodies in it. It was — well, not ordinary, but the sort of space someone might live in. Like most lofts, it had a big central room split into “rooms” by groupings of furniture. There was a square collection of sofas and tables off to the right, which Kai gestured Luhan toward. Luhan sat down on a gold velvet sofa with elegant wooden curlicues on the arms.

“Would you like some tea?” Kai asked. He wasn’t sitting in a chair, but had sprawled himself on a tufted ottoman, his long legs stretched out in front of him.

Luhan nodded. He felt incapable of saying anything. Anything interesting or intelligent, that was. It was always Kris who said the interesting, intelligent things. He was Kris’s parabatai and that was all the glory he needed or wanted: like being the dark star to someone else’s supernova. But this was somewhere Kris couldn’t go with him, something Kris couldn’t help him with. “Sure.”

His right hand felt suddenly hot. He looked down, and realized he was holding a waxed paper cup from Joe, the Art of Coffee. It smelled like chai. He jumped, and only barely escaped spilling on himself. “By the Angel —”

“I LOVE that expression,” said Kai. “It’s so quaint.”

Luhan stared at him. “Did you steal this tea?”

Kai ignored the question. “So,” he said. “Why are you here?”

Luhan took a gulp of the stolen tea. “I wanted to thank you,” he said, when he came up for air. “For saving my life.”

Kai leaned back on his hands. His t-shirt rode up over his flat stomach, and this time Luhan had nowhere else to look. “You wanted to thank me.”

“You saved my life,” Luhan said, again. “But I was delirious, and I don’t think I really thanked you. I know you didn’t have to do it. So thank you.”

Kai’ eyebrows had disappeared up into his hairline. “You’re …welcome?”

Luhan set his tea down. “Maybe I should go.”

Kai sat up. “After you came so far? All the way to Brooklyn? Just to thank me?” He was grinning. “Now that would be a wasted effort.” He reached out and put his hand to Luhan’s cheek, his thumb brushing along the cheekbone. His touch felt like fire, training tendrils of sparks in its wake. Luhan sat frozen in surprise — surprise at the gesture, and surprise at the effect it was having on him. Kai’ eyes narrowed, and he dropped his hand. “Huh,” he said to himself.

“What?” Luhan was suddenly very worried that he’d done something wrong. “What is it?”

“You’re just …” A shadow moved behind Kai; with fluid agility, the warlock twisted around and picked up a small gray and white tabby cat from the floor. The cat curled into the crook of his arm and looked at Luhan with suspicion. Now two pairs of gold-green eyes were trained on him darkly. “Not what I expected.”

“From a Shadowhunter?”

“From a Lightwood.”

“I didn’t realize you knew my family that well.”

“I’ve known your family for hundreds of years.” Kai’ eyes searched his face. “Now your sister, she’s a Lightwood. You—’

“She said you liked me.”

“What?”

“Channie. My sister. She told me you liked me. Liked me, liked me.”

“Liked you, liked you?” Kai buried his grin in the cat’s fur. “Sorry. Are we twelve now? I don’t recall saying anything to Chanyeol …”

“Kris said it too.” Luhan was blunt; it was the only way he knew how to be. “That you liked me. That when he buzzed up here, you thought he was me and you were disappointed that it was him. That never happens.”

“Doesn’t it? Well, it should.”

Luhan was startled. “No — I mean Kris, he’s … Kris.”

“He’s trouble,” said Kai. “But you are totally without guile. Which in a Lightwood, is a conundrum. You’ve always been a plotting sort of family, like low-rent Borgias. But there isn’t a lie in your face. I get the feeling everything you say is straightforward.”

Luhan leaned forward. “Do you want to go out with me?”

Kai blinked. “See, that’s what I mean. Straightforward.”

Luhan chewed his lip and said nothing.

“Why do you want to go out with me?” Kai inquired. He was rubbing Chairman Neko’s head, his long fingers folding the cat’s ears down. “Not that I’m not highly desirable, but the way you asked, it seemed as if you were having some sort of fit —”

“I just do,” Luhan said. “And I thought you liked me, so you’d say yes, and I could try — I mean, we could try —” He put his face in his hands. “Maybe this was a mistake.”

Kai’ voice was gentle. “Does anyone know you’re gay?”

Luhan’s head jerked up; he found he was breathing a little hard, as if he’d run a race. But what could he do, deny it? When he’d come here to do exactly the opposite? “Dio,” he said, hoarsely. “Which is … Which was an accident. And Channie, but she’d never say anything.”

“Not your parents. Not Kris?”

Luhan thought about Kris knowing, and pushed the thought away, hard and fast. “No. No, and I don’t want them to know, especially Kris.”

“I think you could tell him.” Kai rubbed Chairman Neko under the chin. “He went to pieces like a jigsaw puzzle when he thought you were going to die. He cares —”

“I’d rather not.” Luhan was still breathing quickly. He rubbed at the knees of his jeans with his fists. “I’ve never had a date,” he said in a low voice. “Never kissed anyone. Not ever. Channie said you liked me and I thought —”

“I’m not unsympathetic. But do you like me? Because this being gay business doesn’t mean you can just throw yourself at any guy and it’ll be fine because he’s not a girl. There are still people you like and people you don’t.”

Luhan thought of his bedroom back at the Institute, of being in a delirium of pain and poison when Kai had come in. He had barely recognized him. He was fairly sure he’d been screaming for his parents, for Kris, for Channie, but his voice would only come out on a whisper. He remembered Kai’ hands on him, his fingers cool and gentle. He remembered the death-grip he’d kept on Kai’ wrist, for hours and hours, even after the pain had passed and he knew he would be all right. He remembered watching Kai’ face in the light of the rising sun, the gold of sunrise sparking gold out of his eyes, and thinking how oddly beautiful he was, with his cat’s gaze and grace.

“Yes,” Luhan said. “I like you.”

He met Kai’ gaze squarely. The warlock was looking at him with a sort of admixture of curiosity and affection and puzzlement. “It’s so odd,” Kai said. “Genetics. Your eyes, that color —” He stopped and shook his head.

“The Lightwoods you knew didn’t have blue eyes?”

“Green-eyed monsters,” said Kai, and grinned. He deposited Chairman Neko on the ground, and the cat moved over to Luhan, and rubbed against his leg. “The Chairman likes you.”

“Is that good?”

“I never date anyone my cat doesn’t like,” Kai said easily, and stood up. “So let’s say Friday night?”

A great wave of relief came over Luhan. “Really? You want to go out with me?”

Kai shook his head. “You have to stop playing hard to get, Luhan. It makes things difficult.” He grinned. He had a grin like Kris’s — not that they looked anything alike, but the sort of grin that lit up his whole face. “Come on, I’ll walk you out.”

Luhan drifted after Kai toward the front door, feeling as if a weight had been taken off his shoulders, one he hadn’t even known he was carrying. Of course he’d have to come up with an excuse for where he was going Friday night, something Kris wouldn’t want to participate in, something he’d need to do alone. Or he could pretend to be sick and sneak out. He was so lost in thought he almost banged into the front door, which Kai was leaning against, looking at him through eyes narrowed to crescents.

“What is it?” Luhan said.

“Never kissed anyone?” Kai said. “No one at all?”

“No,” said Luhan, hoping this didn’t disqualify him from being datable. “Not a real kiss —”

“Come here.” Kai took him by the elbows and pulled him close. For a moment Luhan was entirely disoriented by the feeling of being so close to someone else, to the kind of person he’d wanted to be close to for so long. Kai was long and lean but not skinny; his body was hard, his arms lightly muscled but strong; he was an inch or so taller than Luhan, which hardly ever happened, and they fit together perfectly. Kai’ finger was under his chin, tilting his face up, and then they were kissing. Luhan heard a small hitching gasp come from his own throat and then their mouths were pressed together with a sort of controlled urgency. Kai, Luhan thought dazedly, really knew what he was doing. His lips were soft, and he parted Luhan’s expertly, exploring his mouth: a symphony of lips, teeth, tongue, every movement waking up a nerve ending Luhan had never known he had.

He found Kai’ waist with his fingers, touching the strip of bare skin he’d been trying to avoid looking at before, and slid his hands up under Kai’ shirt. Kai jerked with surprise, then relaxed, his hands running down Luhan’s arms, over his chest, his waist, finding the belt loops on Luhan’s jeans and using them to pull him closer. His mouth left Luhan’s and Luhan felt the hot pressure of his lips on his throat, where the skin was so sensitive that it seemed directly connected to the bones in his legs, which were about to give out. Just before he slid to the floor, Kai let him go. His eyes were shining and so was his mouth.

“Now you’ve been kissed,” he said, reached behind him, and yanked the door open. “See you Friday?”

Luhan cleared his throat. He felt dizzy, but he also felt alive — blood rushing through his veins like traffic at top speed, everything seemingly almost too brightly colored. As he stepped through the door, he turned and looked at Kai, who was watching him bemusedly. He reached forward and took hold of the front of Kai’ t-shirt and dragged the warlock toward him. Kai stumbled against him, and Luhan kissed him, hard and fast and messy and unpracticed, but with everything he had. He pulled Kai against him, his own hand between them, and felt Kai’ heart stutter in his chest.

He broke off the kiss, and drew back.

“Friday,” he said, and let Kai go. He backed away, down the landing, Kai looking after him. The warlock crossed his arms over his shirt — wrinkled where Luhan had grabbed it — and shook his head, grinning.

“Lightwoods,” Kai said. “They always have to have the last word.”

He shut the door behind him, and Luhan ran down the steps, taking them two at a time, his blood still singing in his ears like music.

*

okay, how was it????