Invictus

Ethereal Grace

A man walked in, holding the door open for the redhead following him. Alec gulped, his mouth dropping open. Perhaps it was how the man exuded confidence, or perhaps was it the entrancing way he moved, ethereal grace making every motion of his body look like wind dancing in the high branches of a weeping willow, fluid and uncontrollable all at once. He was wearing tight yoga pants and a ridiculously loose tank top that exposed most of his chest and his ribs, where a beautiful cherry blossom tattoo was uncovered, pink and white flowers swirling around a branch and contrasting with his bronze skin. There was another tattoo on his forearm, two lines of a beautiful handwriting curving words Alec couldn’t quite decipher. A third tattoo was poking from his collarbone, but it was hidden by the sleeve of his tank top.

His brown eyes, lined with smoky eyeshadow, were twinkling with excitement and he gave the three of them a wide grin that light up the whole room the way the summer morning lights seeping through the front window of the shop never could.

He reminded Alec of an amaryllis.

“Hi!” he said, his grin not faltering. “I’m Magnus.  I just opened my tattoo parlor next door. And this is Clary, my partner in crime.”

He was staring at Alec unabashedly, but Alec seemed to have lost the ability to speech, gaping at him and cursing at himself inwardly.

“Hello darling,” Wanda purred, shaking Magnus’ outstretched hand, then Clary’s. “I’m Wanda. I own the bakery on the other side of the street.” She turned towards Alec and Jace and snickered. “These silver-tongued gentlemen are Jonathan and Alexander,” she added mockingly.

Alec cleared his throat, reaching out to shake both their hands. “A-Alec,” he mumbled. “It’s Alec. Alec Lightwood. I own this place.” He ducked his head and blinked at the lines on Magnus’ arm. “Invictus,” he breathed out articulately, and Wanda giggled at his side, but he wisely chose to ignore her.

“Yes! It’s one of my favorite poems!” Magnus exclaimed, his brown eyes flickering with enthusiasm and something deeper, something of the people who were always a promise for adventures. “Silver-tongued, uh? That’s… interesting,” he muttered, the corner of his lips tipping up, and Alec sputtered a bunch of incoherent words, his cheeks flushing.

“Magnus,” Clary said, and the disapproving edge of her tone didn’t match the teasing spark in her green eyes.

She pushed him aside unceremoniously to grab Alec’s hand. She had a firm handshake that didn’t quite fit her tiny frame and left him a bit befuddled. She then turned to Jace, whose eyes were slightly blown, and Alec suddenly felt much better about his utter lack of eloquence, because his brother didn’t seem much better.

“It’s Jace,” he said. “No one calls me Jonathan. Wanda is just being a pain. I own the sport equipment shop down the street. I’m Alec’s brother.”

Wanda grabbed a magazine on the counter and rolled it up, smacking Jace’s head with it.

“Don’t talk about the elderly like that,” she chastised him, before turning to Magnus and Clary, blue eyes wide with staged misery. “Can you believe how they treat a weak old lady like myself?”

“The only weak thing about you is your acting skills,” Alec retorted pointedly, turning to glance at Magnus, who was still smirking like he knew something the rest of them didn’t. “Don’t let yourself be fooled by her wrinkled appearance. She’s the devil.”

It was his turn to be smacked but Wanda was too small to reach his head, so she settled for his shoulder instead.

Clary giggled delightedly. “Well, I’m sure Magnus and her will get along wonderfully, then.”

Magnus shrugged and it made the sleeve of his tank top slide slightly off his shoulder, exposing more bronze skin and the top of what seemed to be a compass tattoo below his collarbone. There was a mischievous spark lighting up his brown eyes, though, and Alec pondered that the redhead probably knew what she was talking about.

“We have to go back to the shop,” he said, pouting a little, and Alec absolutely did not think it looked adorable. And hot. At the same time. Nope. “We still have a lot to do before tomorrow’s opening.”

“Need a hand?” Jace asked, leaning against the counter with his arms crossed over his chest. Alec was glad to know his brother was back to his regular, arrogant-in-front-of-strangers self. “I have Victor covering up for me at the shop, I can help.”

“That would be great, Blondie,” Magnus said with a genuine smile that was so breathtakingly luminous that Alec had to blink in fear of going blind.

“I-I would offer but I can’t leave the shop,” Alec mumbled, gesturing vaguely to the flowers surrounding them. “I’m on my own today.”

“That’s alright, darling,” Magnus said, his grin turning somehow slier. “I’m sure I’ll have other opportunities to see those magnificent arms of yours flexing with effort.”

“Y-yeah,” Alec stammered. “Sure.”

Magnus winked at him and turned around, marching out of his shop like a man on a mission, Clary on his heels.

If Alec’s eyes wandered lower to grace themselves with the sight of Magnus’ glorious ass, no one needed to know.

No one but Jace and Wanda, because they were both staring at him like vultures on a prey.

Jace wrapped an arm around Alec’s shoulder, patting his chest in comfort. “Very smooth, brother,” he taunted. “I’m so proud of you.”

“Fuck you,” Alec groaned, pushing away from him. “Go make yourself helpful instead of pestering me. You’re using air my flowers need to blossom.”

Jace chuckled, but promptly left the shop, leaving Wanda behind him. She watched Alec closely and lifted an eyebrow, but remained silent.

“Okay,” he grumbled, squirming under her prying gaze. “Maybe I get what you meant when you said you felt like you were sixteen again. Shut up.”

The only reply he got was a knowing smile.