Invictus

Scratches

The first hour passed in a blur. Alec had been bracing himself for agonizing pain, but it wasn’t more painful than the scratches he had earned when he was younger and had tried to stroke their family cat, Church. Church was a judgmental, arrogant cat, he told Magnus, who made sure to distract him with small talk all along. He had always liked Max and only Max, and had been impossibly hostile to anyone else, including Alec.

He kept fond memories of his mother applying antibiotic ointment to his cuts every time he was stubborn enough to try again, and again, and again.

In exchange, Magnus told him more about Chairman Meow, who was apparently quite arrogant and condescending himself, but only because “he likes to choose his acquaintances”, or so Magnus told him, adding with a smile that he was sure his cat would like Alec.

When they weren’t talking, Magnus hummed to the music under his breath, his eyes never leaving Alec’s skin or the tip of his tattoo gun, and Alec let his eyes drift to the numerous drawings and pictures on the wall, not bothering to hide the awe in his gaze now that Magnus couldn’t see it.

He was acutely aware of Magnus’ warm presence beside him, his breath soothing the burn of the prick on his skin, his gentle touch wiping off the blood and excedent of ink every now and then.

The second hour was harder, the pain getting sharper and sharper with every passing minute, but it only served as a reminder to another type of pain he was trying to bury under the ink, and it was far more bearable.

Simon came by halfway through the third hour, offering pastries from Wanda’s bakery to the both of them and they took the opportunity to have a break, but Alec pointedly refused to look in the mirror and see the progress of Magnus’ work on his ribs. He distracted himself by focusing on Magnus and Simon’s amiable banter while forcing the pastry down his throat and past the nauseous sensation caused by the blood loss.

Simon was gone after fifteen minutes and Alec lied back down without a word.

“Okay?” Magnus asked quietly.

“Okay,” Alec said simply, running a hand through his tired features.

He fell asleep through the fourth hour, exhaustion enveloping him all at once, unexpectedly.

He was woken up with a start by the sharp noise of latex slapping in the air and had to blink three times before his eyes settled on Magnus, who was facing away from him to throw his gloves in the nearest trashcan.

He felt a bit dizzy, but was only vaguely aware of the pain shooting up his right side, like his body had become numb to it after the repeated assaults.

“Are you done?” he croaked out.

Magnus turned around to face him, and his face softened into a smile that made Alec’s stomach lurch again, although he wasn’t sure the blood loss was to blame this time.

“Yup,” he said, stepping closer. “How are you feeling?”

Alec pushed on his good side to prop himself in a sitting position, grabbing the bottle of water Magnus was handing to him with a grateful smile. “Exhausted,” he muttered, only distantly aware of the words coming out of his mouth. “You?”

Magnus chuckled, his eyes twinkling with amusement. “Well, I just got to touch your naked upper body for four hours and a half,” he replied with a teasing wink. “I don’t see how my day could get any better.”

Alec snorted, shaking his head, and finished the water, already feeling more level-headed.

Magnus waited patiently for him to finish and tilted his head to the side. “Ready to see it?” he asked in a low voice, apprehension tainting his beautiful eyes.