When Magnus leans over to kiss him, there’s something new in it, something warm that bleeds through Alec’s veins. And the thought occurs to him that he could do this forever and never get tired of it. Never want something else, something more, because somehow, some way, he’s found it. He’s not entirely sure what it is yet, but the way his insides settle with the kiss, untying knots so old and twisted he assumed they were a permanent fixture, assures him that he’s found something he’s needed for possibly his whole life. It’s the kind of discovery that is usually life-shattering, but right now it’s just freaking warm as hell.

I didn’t want to have feelings for you, but you’re a black hole, Alexander. Gravitational pull. You suck in everything around you, and you just don’t see it.

He’d done it for the exact reason he told Alec – because in all his time in the league, no one has ever stood up for him the way Alec did in the locker room. His reputation is garbage at the moment anyway, so why should Alec be demonized as well simply for backing up a teammate? But now Magnus almost wishes that he could go back and do it all over again because whatever motivation he had just twenty-four hours ago seems to already pale in comparison to the one he has now. The one that says Alec Lightwood is the type of person that should be protected at all costs. Which is an odd way to feel about a man he hardly knows, especially when that man caused a ten-minute game delay tonight by hitting a guy so hard he cracked a panel of glass along the boards. But it is there regardless, simmering under the surface of Magnus’ skin.