Piano Days and Other Malec One-Shots

The Fallback Marriage Pact

AH!AU

2:31 am- Alec: He broke up with me.

Alec had sent the text out of the pure loneliness that comes with the first 24 hours of heartbreak.

The feeling that you might never be whole again. That that one person was the one. That you let them get by and they might never come back.

Had he really broken up with him, or had Alec broken up with him? It might've been easier to say it was mutual. He was at fault though, not Alec. His lack of commitment and seriousness. They were seniors in college, two months away from graduation and he had no plans for his future employment, let alone his relationship status. 

That was the basis of Alec's argument. 

He claimed that Alec was too serious ("lighten up a bit; you're 22, not 47!"). Making idle promises about "together forever" weren't going to come out of his mouth.

Sebastian Morgenstern: the boy that broke Alec's heart after four years of serious dating.

He'd wasted his college years on Sebastian, and Sebastian alone. And now he was left with nothing to show for it but a phone of texts (I love you. Forever. Always. My Alec.) and a couple of Valentine's Day gifts, all of the inside jokes that Alec would never be able to explain to anyone else.

Alec wasn't expecting a response at such an outrageous hour, but he had to tell someone who wouldn't immediately judge him or say "I told you so."

Sebastian wasn't the ideal boyfriend.

But he had been Alec's, and Alec's alone. The idea that they would both probably move onto bigger things and better people hurt Alec. He wanted to go back in time. Back to a week ago when things had been normal.

2:34 am- Magnus: I'll be there in thirty minutes.

Alec knew better than to protest. Best friends didn't like the word "no."

Especially not Magnus, in all his outlandish glory. Limits were set for other people; not him. 

Alec looked around his tiny apartment. $560 a month got him a twenty-by-twenty living space complete with mini-kitchen, full bathroom, and "free" cable and WiFi. It just about fit a tiny dining table and two chairs, a two-seater couch, a desk, and his little twin-sized bed. Even then it was cramped but it was home.

And home was currently decently clean, with the exception of a shattered glass on the floor, courtesy of Alec's klutziness.

He'd spent most of the night in bed, admittedly sobbing, and now he looked like hell.

And didn't care. 

He didn't bother to make an attempt to look decent. He couldn't find it in himself to stand up until Magnus was knocking at the door.

Alec answered, peeking his head out first.

Magnus was in his pajamas: blue sweatpants covered in rubber ducks and a grey t-shirt that said Harvard Law.

When the ratios of Daytime-Magnus' attractiveness to Nighttime-Magnus' attractiveness were compared to Alec's Daytime and Nighttime attractiveness, Magnus looked much worse than Alec did.

"Hi," Magnus said, raising a massive plastic shopping bag, the kind Walmart saved for Christmas shopping sprees and microwaves.

"What is that?" Alec asked. He sounded horrible though, his throat dry from crying.

"Let me in and I'll tell you."

Alec stepped back and Magnus entered, immediately heading for the kitchen. He dropped the heavy bag on the counter where it landed with a thud. He started rummaging through the drawers until he found two of Alec's largest metal spoons.