So I decided to sit back and reread parts of Call Me today. I really miss writing it. The other fics are fun and all, but it's nothing like my first. My favorite. Anyway, it got me thinking: all of the missing scenes I fudged in Call Me were just one interpretation on what might have/could have happened between Alec and Magnus during that very short time-frame. Alec seemed pretty heated about the fact that Magnus didn't return his phone calls, in that scene in the square in City of Glass.
Made me wonder, what if there was more to it? What if, instead of the fluffy storyline I wrote, they'd actually gone further? All the more reason for Alec to be pissed off that the warlock wouldn't return his phone calls. So that's where my mind is right now. Just playing with the idea. See where it goes.
Saturday 1:15 p.m.
Just the sound of his name did strange things to his stomach. The hand that wasn't holding the cell phone fisted, and Alec clenched his eyes shut, trying not to bite his lower lip. Nervous habit. He often woke from nightmares with his teeth embedded in his lower lip. That might explain away that particular scar – the groove matched perfectly, when he bit down.
"Are you asleep?" Alec asked, breathing in sharply. He was trying not to think about waking up in Magnus's king-sized bed, opening his eyes to the unexpected glare of the sun shining bright in his face. They had forgotten to close the curtains all the way, the night before. His skin tingled from the warmth of the new day's sun, even though the comforter had slipped down, riding low on his hips.
Shifting his cheek against the pillow, he squinted until Magnus came into focus, the warlock still asleep within reach beside him. His face was partially obscured by his hair. It fanned the pillow, loose and straight and silky. Alec had watched a few strands rise and fall, puffed up by the warlock's even breathing. Like him, Magnus was naked to the waist. And beyond, the canary-yellow comforter exposing one bare hip, the light golden tan broken up by four ink-like smudges of blackish-blue. Like the stains Alec got on the the ouside of his pinky whenever he wrote in pen.
Bruises, Alec realized with chagrin. His hand had left a mark there. He didn't realize he'd been so rough. At the time, Magnus hadn't complained. To the contrary, he had gripped Alec's shoulders, and moaned encouragement, the poignant sound radiating heat down his back, following the path of sweat trails to the base of his spine.
Alec moistened his lips, clearing his throat. He was still on the line with Magnus's voice mail. How much time had passed in silence, before he snapped out it? He'd been haunted by the memory all day.
He hadn't wanted to leave when he did, but it was growing late and Magnus wouldn't wake up. Even when Alec climbed out of bed, sore and stiff, and moved quietly around the room picking up articles of clothing (and almost stepping over a screeching Chairman Meow in the process), Magnus didn't move. Not even when Alec's cell went off - it was Isabelle, checking up on him.
If Magnus could sleep through all that, he must be really tired. So Alec chose not to wake him. He didn't have the heart to disturb his rest, when he was obviously in need.
Five hours later, after arguing with himself back and forth, Alec decided to make the call. He figured Magnus might be up by now, and he wanted to explain.
He also wanted to see him again.
"I didn't want to disturb you."
Alec ducked his head, shielding his eyes in embarrassment. There was no one in the room to see, but he shook his head, feeling stupid.
"OK. Bye." Biting his lip, he removed the phone from his ear and closed it, hanging up.