So this has some slight smut in it, not really too explicate per-say but just in case I'm warning you.
Ah. And for those of you who might not know what this story entails... THIS IS A BOYXBOY STORY! SO FOR THOSE OF YOU WHO DO NOT ENJOY THAT PARTICULAR THING, I ADVISE YOU TO TURN BACK NOW!
With that said please leave a comment and tell me what you think!
;3
~Kayla
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"...And it's no picnic being different. You want to know what it's like when your parents are good churchgoing folk and you happen to be born with the devil's mark?" He pointed at his eyes, fingers splayed. "When your father flinches at the sight of you and your mother hangs herself in the barn, driven mad by what she's done? When I was ten, my father tried to drown me in the creek. I lashed out at him with everything I had -burned him where he stood. I went to the fathers of the church eventually, for sanctuary. They hid me. They say pity's a bitter thing, but it's better than hate. When I found out that I was really, only half a human being, I hated myself. Anything's better than that..."
~Magnus Bane, City of Bones page 231~
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It was not a rare occurrence for Magnus Bane, High Warlock of Brooklyn to wish he was never alive... To hate what he was born to be. In fact, it was almost natural to look in the mirror and loath what he saw staring back at him.
His eyes were what he hated the most; what set him apart from others.... What marked him as an outcast; a spawn of demon. The smooth expanse of his stomach was another reminder of what he was; who he was. He hated it all.
The extravagant clothes and the ridiculously eye-catching make-up were what kept him sane; because with it, he could almost imagine, almost believe, that the reason people stared at him, whispers upon their lips as they turned to their companions, were because of said clothing and make-up. Not because of his power or his eyes or his heritage. ...But one could only imagine so long before reality comes crashing back down.
xOoOoOoOx
Magnus Bane hated himself. He hated his eyes, his nonexistent belly button and the way everyone used him for his power. He hated it all, every last part of it. Or at least he had, right up until that blue-eyed black-haired beauty showed up on his doorstep in a sweatshirt and jeans, that, Magnus thought, though they hadn't been as tight as he would have liked, they had definitely showed enough to make his mouth water.
From the first look Magnus could tell that Alec Lightwood was not like his companions. While the pale-haired golden-eyed one -Jace as he now knew- had been demanding and arrogant, Alec had been soft spoken and honest. Magnus could tell the moment that the young Shadowhunter's eyes met his with honesty and curiosity plain in his eyes that Alec Lightwood was a noble and often times overshadowed, by the way Jace had ordered him around, young boy.
And he had had Magnus intrigued the moment their eyes met.
As their relationship had slowly escalated from teasing remarks to laughing conversations, to soft smiles and gentle kisses, to lust filled gazes and mouthwatering expressions, and to hot nights and secretive smirks; Magnus had found himself taking comfort in the boy and his whispered words that positively made his heart melt.
His eyes that Magnus had hated so much, Alec couldn't help but stare at. When questioned with hidden fears that the young Shadowhunter found him revolting, Alec had whispered gently whilst holding him close, "I love your eyes Mags. They're beautiful. Just like you."
