Magnus Bane and Alec Lightwood might fall in love—but first they have a first date. One of ten adventures in The Bane Chronicles.
When Magnus Bane, warlock, meets Alec Lightwood, Shadowhunter, sparks fly. And what happens on their first date lights a flame...
Book review: I loved this story this is about magnus and alec first date and it was freaking adorable and awkward. First magnus gets pickpocket and alec uses his ninja moves . Then they go to a restaurant where everyone hates shadowhunters but then alec helps magnus with a werewolf and they go back to his place and make out a little I loved it .
You’re sarcastic twelve hours a day, but you’re almost never spiteful. You have a good heart under all the glitter.
“I’m—sorry about being a lousy date,” Alec muttered.
“What are you talking about?” Magnus asked. “You’re a fantastic date. You’ve only been here ten minutes, and I already got half of your clothes off.
“You’re sarcastic twelve hours a day, but you’re almost never spiteful. You have a good heart under all the glitter.
And the Angel descended from on high and gave his chosen ones fantastic abs
Alec was closeted, shy, obviously insecure, and obviously hung up on his blond friend Trace Wayland. Magnus was fairly certain that was the name, but Wayland had reminded Magnus inexplicably of Will Herondale, and Magnus didn’t want to think about Will.
Magnus did not even care—Alec here, Alec now, the taste of Alec in his mouth, his hands pushing aside the fabric of his own worn T-shirt to get at Alec’s bare skin underneath. It took an embarrassingly long time before they both remembered that Magnus had an apartment, and tumbled toward it without disentangling from each other. Magnus blew the door open without looking at it: the door banged so hard against the wall that Magnus cracked an eye open to check that he had not absentmindedly made his front door explode. Alec kissed a sweet careful line down Magnus’s neck, starting from just below his ear to the hollow at the base of his throat. The door was fine. Everything was great. Magnus pulled Alec down to the sofa, Alec collapsing bonelessly on top of him. Magnus fastened his lips to Alec’s neck. He tasted of sweat and soap and skin, and Magnus bit down, hoping to leave a mark on the pale skin there, wanting to. Alec gave a breathy whimper and pushed his body into the contact. Magnus’s hands slid up under Alec’s rumpled shirt, learning the shape of Alec’s body. He ran his fingers over the swell of Alec’s shoulders and down the long lean curve of his back, feeling the scars of his profession and the wildness of his kisses. Shyly, Alec undid the buttons on Magnus’s waistcoat, laying skin bare and slipping inside to touch Magnus’s chest, his stomach, and Magnus felt cool silk replaced by warm hands, curious and caressing. He felt Alec’s fingers shaking against his skin. Magnus reached up and pressed his hand against Alec’s cheek, his brown bejeweled fingers a contrast to Alec’s moonlight-pale skin: Alec turned his face into the curve of Magnus’s palm and kissed it, and Magnus’s heart broke. “Alexander,” he murmured, wanting to say more than just “Alec,” to call him by a name that was longer than and different from the name everybody else called him, a name with weight and value to it..