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Alec fell into motorbike-racing without any actual intention of ending up there.
He hadn’t even harbored an interest in motorcycles until Isabelle bought one. He knew the first time he rode with her that he had to do it again. So he saved up, he learned to drive a bike, he researched the best ones, and he got his own. He’d loved riding it around the city, swerving in and out of traffic, but even then, he’d never thought of racing.
It had been Jace who had dragged him to a race he was competing in. Watching the bikes fly around the track, the fierce competitive nature of it, had drawn Alec in. Three years later and he was one of the top racers amongst his group and more competitive than ever.
And he definitely doesn’t have a crush on his biggest rival.
Alec eyes the man straddling the motorcycle next to him. There’s five of them today racing today, using a certified track, engines not yet started, helmets not yet on. It gives Alec the chance to check out Magnus under the guise of sizing him up.
Magnus doesn’t fit anyone's idea of a typical racer. He styles his hair up even though it’s always flattened by the helmet during the race and he never fails to wear a good amount of sparkly makeup. (The dark lines around his eyes definitely don't make them more enticing.) He hasn't put on his gloves yet so his black-painted nails are on full display.
He smirks back at Alec, somehow stunning despite the bulky, bright colored racing suit he's in. “Are you going to actually give me a challenge today Lightwood?”
Alec glares back. Alec has won against him dozens of times, but Magnus has won the last three races- a fact that he refuses to let Alec forget. It’s always by the slimmest margins too.
“You know I hate seeing you lose Bane. Why do you think I’ve been going easy on you?”
It’s an obvious lie, but it’s pre-race trash talk. It doesn’t have to be honest. It doesn’t even have to be effective so long as it gets you ready to pour your heart into the race.
Magnus actually snorts. “If that were the case, I'd think there would be a little less helmet-throwing at the end of each race.”
Alec responds with ease, “What would the fans think if I didn’t at least act disappointed?”
“How much did the new helmet cost you?” Magnus quirks a perfectly manicured eyebrow at the helmet in Alec’s hands.
“Nothing I won’t win back today.”
Magnus picks up his own helmet and fastens it securely on his head as the announcer calls for racers to get in position. “I won’t make it easy on you.”
Alec straddles his bike, tearing his eyes from Magnus to the track in front of them. “Wouldn’t be fun if you did.”
The announcer calls for the racers to start their engines. The familiar synchronized roar is like music to Alec’s ears. He leans forward, adrenaline rushing through his system. He has to win today.
He has to win before his recent losses turn into an actual losing streak.
“Ready. Set. Go!”
Alec is moving the moment the pistol shoots. He stays low in his seat to maintain a more aerodynamic shape as well as keeping balanced. He can see Magnus’ bike out of the corner of his eye, reaching the first turn. Magnus is forced to decelerate while Alec speeds up, taking advantage of his slightly slower start, the acceleration providing him better traction to take the turns faster. It’s a risky maneuver, but he gains a the lead.
Alec excels on the flat tracks. He stays inches ahead of Magnus around each turn. He sees another racer lean too far and go skidding, but he can't give it his attention. He keeps as far from it as possible.
The first time Alec had witnessed a crash, it had thrown him off his game and sent him almost crashing as well. He'd managed to correct, but had landed solidly in last place- only above the girl who’d crashed and withdrawn.
Now Alec crosses the finish line seconds before Magnus. He grins as they make the slowdown lap before parking at the finish line. Alec tugs off his helmet to beam at the small, but fiercely enthusiastic audience.
Then, without helping it, his eyes go to Magnus as he pulls his own helmet off. His hair has been pressed down flatter and sweat drips down the sides of his face, smearing his makeup. It’s unfair that he still manages to look attractive.
Even more infuriating is the easy smile playing at his lips. “Congratulations Lightwood.”
Alec huffs. “You too.”
“What, are you upset that I’m not a sore-loser?” Alec narrows his eyes. He knows Magnus is just as competitive as he is.
“Of course not. You do have experience with losing after all.”
Magnus gasps, gloved hand going to his heart in mock-hurt. “You wound me.”
“Clearly.” Alec scans the trail for the racer that had skidded off the track and finds him by the announcer’s tent, looking upset, but uninjured.
“It’s no matter, the next track is natural terrain and lots of jumps, I’ll be surprised if you finish in the top three.”
Alec’s eyes dart back to Magnus, zeroing in on the faux innocent expression. “I’ll kick your ass there too, just wait.”
“I will. Wait for you- at the finish line I mean. You know I can’t resist our banter.”
Alec rolls his eyes, tugging off his gloves as the race director heads their way to distribute the winnings. It’s a small race with a small audience so it’s a slim amount, but it covers a portion of the cost of Alec’s new helmet. His regular nine-to-five job covers the rest.
Isabelle has made it down to the track and is pulling him into a hug when the race director finally leaves. “Good job, Alec! You looked great out there today!”
“Thanks, I felt good today.” He tries to be subtle as he scans for Magnus in the crowd that has grown around them.
“Oh? Did you finally ask Magnus out?”
“Isabelle!” He leans gently against his bike, focusing on her. “It’s not like that.”
She puts a hand on her hip. “Someone could cut the sexual tension between the two of you with a knife. I swear, the way you eye-fuck each other before every race, I’m surprised one of you hasn’t just mauled the other by now.”
Alec feels a heat spread through his cheeks that has nothing to do with the warmth of his racing attire. “Would you stop,” he hisses, making sure no one has overheard. “You can’t even hear what we talk about.”
“I don’t have to hear it, I have eyes. Did you even spare a glance to any of the other racers?”
“Magnus was my biggest competitor.”
“And he has the best ass?”
Alec throws his leg over his bike, leveling her with a glare. “I’m done with this conversation.”
Isabelle laughs, but thankfully changes the topic until they leave for lunch, side by side on their bikes.
As much as Alec hates to admit it, Magnus is an expert at jumps while Alec still struggles with them. It leaves him more nervous than usual at the next race a week later, observing the dirt terrain. Rather than going in a circular loop, they’re racing along a trail decorated with obstacles to reach the end.
There are more competitors as well. Ten racers in Alec’s group and he still ends up next to an impeccably-styled Magnus. He parks his bike, overhearing the end of Magnus’ conversation with another racer, Raphael Santiago. He know Raphael will give them both a run for their money.
“It’s a waste of time,” Raphael is saying when he pulls up.
Magnus waves Raphael off as he turns to Alec, sending him a sly smile. “Good morning Lightwood. You look like you’re ready to come in well behind me.”
Alec rolls his eyes at the less than genius quip. “Is that the best you’ve got Bane? You seem tired. Did you skimp on your sleep so you’d have time to do your makeup?”
Raphael snorts even as he give no other sign of listening. Magnus shoots him a glare before refocusing. “Thank you for noticing. Too bad you won’t have a chance to admire it when we get done as I’ll be busy collecting my winnings.”
“So confident, but it wasn’t you that won the last natural track was it?” Alec winks even though technically neither of them had won, both beaten out by Raphael.
It’s enough to make Magnus gape at him, though he recovers quickly.“And today is the day to change that, isn't it? Try not to get too distracted by my makeup once we’re racing- I want to win fair and square.”
Alec knows that when Magnus puts on the helmet it will obscure his face almost completely. Alec wouldn’t be able to admire his makeup even if he wanted to. “I think I’ll manage to control myself.”
“Ay, dios mio,” Raphael grumbles, making Magnus flip him off despite the boxy, slightly difficult to maneuver gloves.
Magnus snaps back in Spanish, too quickly for Alec to catch the words or even attempt to understand them. Raphael’s response is slightly slower but the only word Alec catches is ‘peacock’ which is either a sign of his rusty skills or they’re talking about something else completely.
A whistle blows, drawing their attention and the ten racers pull their helmets on, straddling their bikes. Magnus gives Alec a two finger salute before the next whistle blows and the engines come to life. The third whistle and they’re off.
Alec is getting better at the difficult trails, but there’s more people than use’s used to and he finds himself fighting to keep near the front. He hits the ramps at the best angles he can and he lands them smoothly. Still, Magnus and Raphael are faster, more experienced.
Magnus crosses the finish line milliseconds before Raphael, followed quickly by Alec. He glowers as he slows to a stop and rips his helmet off, barely resisting the urge to toss it. He really can’t afford to go through helmets so quickly.
Magnus is grinning despite his smeared makeup. “Third place isn’t last place you know, no reason to look so upset.”
“Congratulations,” Alec forces through his teeth.
“Thank you,” Magnus dips into an exaggerated bow.
“You barely won,” Raphael says from Magnus’ other side, looking just as upset as Alec.
Magnus simply shrugs as he pulls off his gloves. His fingers, nails painted black, brush through his hair, pushing it from his forehead. “Don’t be bitter, it’s not a good look on you.”
Raphael mutters something under his breath, turning away from them to talk to the girl who’d come in fourth.
Magnus’ smile turns more sincere. “You’re getting better, Lightwood. You might actually give me a challenge soon.”
“Soon?” Alec echoes, rolling his eyes. His annoyance at not being first is fading. “Did you already forget last week’s race?”
“How could I? You showed up with that shiny new helmet.”
“Next week,” Alec growls, “I’m going to demolish you.”
Magnus raises an eyebrow, his eyes flitting over Alec’s body in a way that makes him self-conscious of the bulky racing suit. “At least buy me a drink first.”
“Very funny,” Alec says, voice dry.
“Nothing but the best for you.”
The third week is the semi-finals. It determines who goes to the finals for a chance to advance levels. The top three in any category get to advance, but it’s a tough competition with more competitors. Alec can tell by the unusually quiet nature of the racers around him while he waits for his group to be called. Isabelle's group has already raced and she'd secured second place, finishing just behind Jace.
Alec scans his group, looking for the tale-tale sign of Magnus’ spiked hair, but somehow Magnus finds him first, appearing almost out of nowhere, helmet and glove in his hands. His nails are painted bright red to match his lips. As if Alec doesn’t already have a hard time not looking at those lips.
“Lightwood, you look serious as always,” Magnus greets, settling into place beside him.
Alec feels his face soften slightly as he takes in the red streaks in Magnus’ hair. “I’m not going to win by not taking this seriously, am I?”
“Maybe not,” Magnus concedes. “Although you don’t have to look so serious before each race. This is a hobby, not a job.”
Alec snorts. “I don’t look that serious.”
Magnus hums. “You know I won’t go easy on you just because you’re cute.”
“You never have before,” Alec manages to say, proud of himself for not getting flustered under the sudden flirtation.
“Not that you know of.”
Alec levels him with an unimpressed look. “As if you would ever let anyone win.”
“You’re right, I’m much too competitive.” Magnus glances at the track where fifteen bikes are currently racing around it. “Your sister did well."
“How do you know who my sister is?”
Magnus rolls his eyes. “I’m not an idiot, Lightwood. You have the same last name. And you talk to her after every race.”
“She came in second. She’s going to move up which means if I don’t move up, I’ll be competing against her.” And Jace.
“And that’s a problem because?”
“She’d never let me live it down.” He doesn’t mention that he’d miss competing with Magnus if he were left behind. Different levels would mean the end of their bantering, the end of their talking.
The current group finishes and Alec’s group is called to get their bikes in position. Alec glances at Magnus, “Good luck Bane, I mean coming in second or third.”
“Good luck to you. I’m sure you won’t be upset if I beat you again, will you?” Magnus blows him a kiss that makes Alec irritated and smitten at the same time, a confusing paradox that he doesn’t have time to focus on. He gets his bike and moves to the third starting place. Unlike their previous races, the amount of racers means they each have their own lane that they have to start at and stay in.
It means Alec is placed slightly behind Magnus, trying not to think about how good he looks straddling his bike. He forces the thoughts to the back of his mind. He has a race to win.
Being behind Magnus while racing is frustrating.
Logically he knows that it doesn’t mean he’s actually behind him in terms of placement, but that's how it feels. Alec pushes his bike to go faster, takes the turns with a recklessness that borders on stupid. He’s lucky he doesn’t tip over. Instead, he manages to close the distance between his bike and Magnus’ as they reach the end.
He’s grinning when he stops. He thinks he’s set a personal best.
Alec is announced first place winner and he rips off his helmet, pumping his fist. Magnus finished directly behind him with Dorthea Rollins coming in third. He sees both of them smiling, despite not being first. They've qualified for the finals.
“Sorry you couldn’t keep a streak,” Alec says, winded for no real reason other than excitement.
Magnus snorts. “You may have deserved that win, don’t think I didn’t notice you catching up to me... But I will get my vengeance at the finals.”
“I’m sure you’ll do your best to come in first,” Alec trails off, leaving the clear insinuation that he expects to be first.
Their group moves their bikes from the track off to the side with the racers who have already competed, but chosen to stick around. Alec finds Isabelle and Jace right away, both of them pulling him into hugs to congratulate him. He notices Magnus off to the side, celebrating with his own friends. He catches Magnus’ eye for a moment and flushes when Magnus winks at him.
He turns away and tries to focus on his sister and Jace, but Magnus stays at the back of his mind. He’s already itching to see him again, to banter with him over first place.
On his drive home from work the following Friday, Alec is thinking about the race. He’s already psyched up over it and he’s a little worried he won't get any sleep if he continues thinking this way.
Perhaps that’s part of why he doesn’t swerve fast enough when the car next to him suddenly switches lanes without signaling.
Alec is thrown from his bike before he has time to process what’s happened. He feels his body hit the concrete, but the pain is a distant, foggy thing. He blinks up at a face as it appears over him. Her mouth is moving, but he can’t understand what she’s saying.
It takes a few minutes for Alec’s head to clear, but when it does, he becomes aware of the acute pain coursing through his body. He tries to lift his arms, to take off his helmet, but a sharp pain in his left arm makes him lower it. He uses his right hand to tug the helmet off.
The woman is still leaning over him. Her voice finally comes in to focus, “Are you alright? Please tell me you’re okay, I’m so sorry, I’m so sorry. I called the police and an ambulance, they’re headed here now.”
Alec struggles to follow along, to understand what she’s saying. Finally the words sink in and he comes to the realization, “You hit me with your car.”
She’s crying. She says something else, but Alec doesn't process it. He thinks his mother was right when she warned them against buying a motorcycle. ‘Death machines’ she had called them. She was right.
Some time later, as Alec has completely lost the ability to notice time passing, sirens approach. EMTs surround him. A woman with a kind face asks him questions he struggles to answer. They remove his leather jacket- what's left of it anyways- to survey the wounds on his upper body.
Alec is loaded onto a stretcher and rolled into the back of an ambulance where the EMTs put him on pain medication that completely numbs him.
The ride to the hospital and the following events are a blur to Alec and he finally understands why when he’s lying on a hospital bed, after having underdone multiple X-rays. A male nurse named Simon details his injuries.
“You’re lucky you were wearing a helmet! Without it... well, it would’ve been worse than a concussion,” Simon says, pushing up his glasses to study the file in front of him.
Alec soon learns there’s also a break in his left arm and a fracture in his left shin. His right ankle had been dislocated and popped back into place. A deep cut lines the side of his abdomen where his shirt had ridden up, allowing the road to dig into his skin. Large amounts of bruising is obvious throughout his body.
Alec groans as the nurse reaches the end of the list of injuries. “So I can’t race tomorrow?”
“You can’t even go home tomorrow. We’re going to keep you over night the next couple days to make sure you didn’t sustain a worse head injury.”
“Great.” Alec sighs. “Did my phone survive the crash?”
Simon grabs a clear bag from the nightstand next to his bed. “This is all your personal items we recovered.”
Alec is relieved to find his phone in one piece. He shoots off a text to Isabelle, telling her he’s fine, but in the hospital. “I don’t suppose my bike is salvageable?”
He knows the answer based on the way Simon hisses slightly and recoils. “No, uh, it was busted.”
“Great,” he says again.
“The woman who hit you gave her information though so you’ll be able to get everything covered by her insurance.”
Alec knows that will probably take as long as it takes his body to heal. It will be a while before he's able to get back on a bike. “Thanks, Simon”
After that he’s allowed to sleep, though a nurse wakes him up every hour to make sure he won’t go into a coma or die from the concussion. Finally, he wakes up to find Isabelle at his bedside. She’s scrolling through her phone, but there’s a crease in her eyebrows that hints at her worry.
“Hey.”
Her head jerks up and Alec feels guilty when he sees the red in her eyes. She tucks her phone away, leaning forward, “Alec! I’m so glad you’re okay.”
“I’m fine, just a little... sore.” It’s the understatement of the century and Isabelle’s expression suggests she knows this.
“The timing is horrible too, Alec, I’m so sorry,” she reaches for his hand. “Do you want me to find the person that did this and make them regret ever being born? Because I can do that.”
Alec doesn’t doubt her abilities given her job in the FBI, but he shakes his head- scowling when the simple motion makes his head ache. “No, it’s fine. Her insurance will cover the costs, I just have to deal with this,” Alec gestures weakly at the hospital bed. He sighs, slumping into the pillows. “I was going to advance tomorrow.”
“I know how excited you were.”
Alec huffs a forced laugh. “I told Magnus I wouldn’t let him win easily, but now I am.”
“That’s what you’re worried about?” Isabelle quirks an eyebrow, running a hand through her long locks. “Do you want me to stay with you tomorrow? I don’t have to race.”
“What? No! Just because I can’t go doesn’t mean you shouldn’t be able to,” Alec responds instantly. “Go, and win. We’ll compete against each other when I recover.”
Isabelle relaxes in her chair. “Good. I really want to go. But I would have stayed with you if you’d asked!”
“I wouldn’t do that,” he says gently.
“Even though I told Mom and Dad what happened?”
Alec groans. “What did they say?”
“They’re worried about you. I barely talked Mom out of buying a ticket and flying out here to see you.”
“Thank you.” He loves his parents, but he doesn’t think he could stand them fussing and, ultimately, lecturing him while he’s held hostage in the hospital bed.
She nods seriously, understanding his unspoken concerns. “They are going to want to talk to you though, as soon as possible.”
“You mean I can’t even use the concussion as an excuse?” He tries and fails to push down a smile.
“I don’t think so.”
Alec blinks rapidly as his eyelids grow steadily heavier. He sighs. “I'll call them later. Whatever medicine they put me on is making me sleepy.”
“Or it’s just a side effect of being hit by a car.” He manages to keep his eyes open to glare at her. She laughs, but stands and presses a nurturing kiss to his forehead. “Go to sleep, I’ll be here when you wake up.”
“You don’t have to do that.” He struggles to stay coherent enough to have this conversation. “I’ll be sleeping most of the time. You should go home.”
She smiles mischievously. “And miss up the opportunity to flirt with your nurse?”
Of course she has an ulterior motive. He lets his eyes fall closed, “I didn’t think he was your type.”
He hears her say something about ‘cute nerdy guys’, but sleep takes over before he can respond.
Alec quickly realizes that having a concussion is boring. He’s not allowed to read or watch TV or use his phone for very long. Mostly he naps. It gets to the point that he’s dozing more often than sleeping, still somewhat aware of his surroundings.
It’s during one of these times that Alec is roused by the door to his hospital room opening. He peels his eyes open, expecting to see a nurse.
He has to blink a few times to make sure the man in front of him isn’t a mirage.
Magnus Bane is standing halfway in the room, a bouquet of roses in his hand. His hair is flattened and there’s a slight shine to his skin that suggests he’s come straight from racing, without bothering to wash his face or hair. He’s changed out of his racer’s outfit into a pair of tight-fitting black jeans and a shimmery silver tank top that leaves his strong, golden arms on display. If Alec thought Magnus was hot before, and he did, he can only think that this is so much more.
Alec’s first thought- after taking in Magnus’ appearance, is that Magnus must have the wrong room.
Except, even in Alec’s drugged-up and concussed state, he realizes the almost impossible odds of Magnus knowing someone else in the same hospital and then going to the wrong room.
“I apologize, I didn’t mean to wake you,” Magnus finally says, still hovering halfway between Alec’s bed and the door. Alec fumbles for the remote to tilt his bed up so he’s sitting more than laying.
“It’s fine.” His voice is deeper than he intends, husky with sleep and, if he’s honest, arousal. “All I’ve done for the past... twenty-four hours? Is sleep.”
Magnus takes a step closer. “Are you sure? I can leave.”
Alec snorts. “Sit down Magnus.”
He raises an eyebrow as he follows Alec’s instructions. “Magnus?”
Alec shrugs. He hadn’t actually meant to call Magnus by his first name, but he thinks it’s about time they were on a first name basis. He nods at the flowers. “Are those... Are they for me?”
Magnus looks down at them, the slightest hint of color rising to his ears. “I wasn’t sure you would want them, but it is customary to bring someone flowers when they’re in the hospital.”
“They’re beautiful,” Alec reassures him, reaching out his good arm, hooked to an IV but without any broken bones, to take the flowers. He sniffs them and smiles. “No one has ever given me flowers before.”
“That is a travesty. However, I’m glad I could be the first.”
There’s a softness to Magnus’ voice that makes something in Alec melt. He looks up at Magnus, takes in his smudged makeup. “How was the race?”
Magnus brushes a hand through his hair, averting his gaze. “Clary Fray won.”
“What- how did she beat you?” Alec knows Clary is a fast racer, but he doesn’t remember the last time Magnus lost to her. “You finished in the top three, right?”
“About that...”
Alec knows by his expression that Magnus hadn't placed in the top three. The idea seems impossible. His voice comes out more concerned than he expects, “What happened?”
Magnus sighs and finally meets his gaze again. Alec doesn’t miss the way he’s nervously twisting his hands in his lap. “You weren’t there. I got distracted.”
“I’m sorry.”
“Alexander,” Magnus chastises. “Don’t you dare apologize for being hit by a car.”
Alec huffs a laugh as he places the roses carefully on the bedside table. He’ll have to text Isabelle, tell her to pick up a vase on her way back. “You’ll have to wait another six months to advance.”
“Oh no, looks like I’ll have to continue racing against you. How terrible.” Magnus’ tone is thick with sarcasm.
Alec can’t hide his smile. He blames it on the pain medication, but he’s just excited that he’ll still be racing against Magnus- when he’s able to return to racing. Only then does it occur to him to ask, “How did you know I was here?”
“Isabelle. I knew you wouldn’t have missed the race unless something bad had happened. I wasn’t sure you’d want to see me, but I wanted to make sure you were alright.”
“I always want to see you,” Alec says before realizing the connotations of his words. He feels his cheeks flame. Stupid pain medication.“ I mean, I’ve been really bored so I’m glad to have a visitor.”
Magnus is grinning at him. “Don’t worry, the feeling is mutual.” When Alec blinks at him, uncomprehending, Magnus adds, “I always want to see you too.”
“Oh.” He swallows hard. “We should then. See each other more. Outside of racing- since I guess I won’t be doing that for a little while anyways...” He shakes his head before he follows that train of thought. He focuses on Magnus. “We should go on a date.”
“I didn’t expect you to be so forward, but I would love to.” Magnus is still smiling at him.
“It’s the pain medication, it’s making me loopy.” He grimaces at the word. “But I do want to go on a date with you.”
“Good.” Magnus reaches out, lays his hand gently over Alec’s. Alec studies the black nail polish. He admires the multitudes of rings on Magnus’ long, delicate fingers. He’s never seen Magnus wear jewelry before, but he thinks it would probably be uncomfortable under the racing gloves.
Alec turns his hand up so their palms meet, sliding their fingers together. “Izzy told me to man up and ask you out.”
“Raphael told me to stop flirting with you at every race because it was a waste of time. I knew he was wrong and now I have proof.”
“That was you flirting?” Alec marvels. “I thought that was just... banter.”
“It was, partly. It was also flirting. You look good on a bike. Or next to a bike. Or next to anything.”
Alec feels a blush climb over his cheeks. “Even after being hit by a car?”
Magnus rolls his eyes, lifting his hand to brush a strand of hair from Alec’s forehead. “Even now.”
The heat from his touch lingers even after Magnus pulls his hand away. Alec sits forward slightly, unintentionally chasing it. “You do too.”
“My makeup is smudged and my hair is flat,” Magnus says, deadpan.
Alec shrugs. “You’re still beautiful.”
Magnus sucks in a breath, moving closer like he’s being tugged in by a gravitational pull. “Can I kiss you?”
“I didn’t break my jaw,” Alec can’t resist the urge to tease. Magnus ignores it to move in and gently press their lips together. He pulls back far too soon, leaving Alec frowning. “That’s it?”
“You have a concussion,” Magnus reminds him. “We can kiss more when you’re healed.”
Alec huffs, leaning back into his pillows. “Is that a promise?”
“Absolutely.”