Invictus

Max

Alec’s shop was always organized. Militarily so, according to Lily, but Lily liked to make fun of him whenever the occasion presented itself, so Alec wasn’t sure her word was truly reliable. Pots were organized by size and flowers by color, and he liked it that way.

Alec was a creature of habits. It was probably why he was so disturbed by Magnus.

Yes. It was the only reason.

Magnus was chaos personified, from the tip of his hair which changed color every two days, to the variety of his wardrobe, to his utter lack of care for manners.

He was always polite and friendly, but it came naturally to him, not as an answer to social conventions like it seemed to be for most people.

Magnus was inherently good, and his numerous tattoos, piercings and quirks didn’t manage to conceal it.

It was unnerving, and Alec didn’t like confusion. He liked things to be clear and precise. Organized through a color code.

Magnus was an explosion of colors, which was probably why he fitted so perfectly among the flowers in Alec’s shop.

The fact that he had made it a common occurrence didn’t help.

He didn’t know who Magnus’ girlfriend was, had never seen her, but he knew she was lucky to have found someone like Magnus, who so clearly loved her and bought her flowers thrice a week. As long as she didn’t mind the way Magnus seemed to flirt so easily with other people.

“Hello, darling,” Magnus chanted as he burst into his shop that day.

Alec had to resist the urge to tell him there was no point in wearing a shirt at all if it was see-through like the one he had on. He settled for inwardly cursing the summer heat instead. There was no more mystery about the tattoo on his right pectoral, just below his collarbone - it was a compass, and a beautiful one with that.

“Hey, Magnus,” Alec replied. “Another bouquet?”

“Yup,” he exclaimed, hopping on the counter to watch as Alec started picking out a few flowers.

In the last couple of weeks, it had become a routine.

Magnus would walk into Alec’s shop with all his glorious aplomb, ask for a bouquet, watch Alec prepare it and ask what every flower represented, listening intently as Alec launched himself in a thorough explanation.

At first, Alec had thought Magnus was just indulging him, listening out of kindness - or pity - more than interest, but then Magnus had started asking questions, intelligent, pertinent ones, or making references to a book he had read or a tattoo he had drawn once, and Alec had realized he hadn’t been lying when he had said he liked passionate people.

Magnus fed on the passion of others and thrived on it, although he never tried to make it his own.

It was fascinating to witness.

Alec had wondered more times than should be socially allowed if Magnus’ girlfriend, or fiancée, or wife - or whatever his “special someone” was exactly - realized exactly how special he was. Alec had known him merely for three weeks and he sure did.

Not that he would let anyone know.

The thing about having siblings is that you didn’t need to tell them for them to know.

He was in the middle of a lecture on the various meanings of poppies depending on their color when the bell chimed to greet a new customer.

Too focused on his task, Alec didn't look up until Magnus hopped down the counter and rushed to the front door to hold it open for Max, who maneuvered his wheelchair inside with the ease of years of practice.