This is pretty much the result of me binge-watching Game of Thrones (this is a major hint as to what this fic will be about, by the way) and fangirling about Malec - and, well, I think that's enough of a warning on its own, haha... So, yes, this will be an AU. And yes, this will be something else. And yes, there will also be lemons at some point, but probably not very soon. Remember, appearances can be deceiving...

Shout-out to my wonderful beta twillandbonnie, who was kind enough to sort through the flowery crap that is my writing and enable me to present you with this brand-new story! :D Thanks again!

Disclaimer: I don't own these wonderful characters, sadly. Instead, they belong to Cassandra Clare. Which is probably for the best.

There was a boy in the corner, playing with the shutters. The hinges creaked as he moved the shutters inward and then pushed them open again, reducing the daylight filtering through the crack between them and then maximising it once more. The red interior of the room blazed like fire when the sunlight illuminated the rich fabrics, and the polished floor gleamed golden for a few brief moments.

Alec was torn between telling him to stop and staring at the scene, since it was more than obvious that this was one of the most interesting things that had happened since he took position beside the closed doors a while ago. His muscles were getting weary and cramped from staying in the same position for too long, and the thick leather of his armour was too warm for this kind of weather; the tunic he wore underneath was sticking to his sweaty back. He knew removing the armour would be like peeling off a second layer of skin, which made him crinkle his nose in disgust. He hated the warm weather, and he hated standing guard, and he hated brothels, too.

The many female prostitutes ambling around in scarce clothing just didn't do the trick for him.

More his fault than theirs, honestly, but still.

"You look lonely."

Alec blinked when he heard the sultry voice, turning his head to locate the source. It was a tall man with a lean physique. His skin was caramel-coloured and unblemished. He wore a crimson robe, probably velvet judging from the expensive sheen of the soft fabric that hung loosely around his slender frame. He was drop-dead gorgeous, Alec's mind was unhelpfully supplying, and his eyes hadn't even travelled up to his face yet.

That problem was quickly resolved within another blink of his eyes, and what he saw there, perched on lean shoulders, took his breath away. His features were distinctly foreign with a strong jaw and a caramel complexion, his hair an inky black and expertly styled. His lips were full and even his ears were perfectly-shaped, but the most stunning and exotic feature of this man were his eyes. They were absolutely breathtaking, and not like anything Alec had ever seen before.

They were almond-shaped, and the irises were this rare mixture of gold and emerald; the little yellow flecks in them were perceivable even from a distance and seemed to jump around, giving his gaze something mesmerising and therefore making it impossible to break away from.

He could feel himself growing uncomfortably hot in response to the man's mere appearance, and he silently cursed himself. Just something he would do, lust after the first incredibly attractive man he ran into – in a public space, of all places. Of course, a brothel wasn't as populated or public a place as a market square, but still; it was a very bad idea.

When Alec seemed to be too breathless and stricken (and horny) to answer, something flickered in the male's eyes. Alec idly noticed he was barefoot when he stepped closer to him and lowered his voice to a husky whisper which went straight to Alec's nether regions.

"Very lonely, even. What is a pretty man like you doing here as a mere watchdog? Surely there are more valuable ways to spend your time?" Alec shifted his weight uncomfortably and moved backwards to put as much distance between the prostitute and himself as possible. His efforts were rewarded by his back hitting the wall after he'd shuffled just two steps backward, which did absolutely nothing to further the distance between them and only seemed to encourage the other man to step closer – and effectively trap Alec between his lean body and the wall.

"Just standing guard. Sir," he croaked out, but his voice was as unstable as his wobbly knees and he was a mess. He wanted to check their surroundings to make sure they didn't have any spectators. He really wanted to flee, but he just couldn't. He just couldn't tear his gaze away from those golden-green irises, and he was pretty sure he would sink to the ground like putty if he actually moved a step in any direction whatsoever. Of course this was the kind of predicament he would find himself in, with a sinfully handsome man no less.

"How loyal. The thing is, Alexander Lightwood," the way his name rolled off the man's tongue, as well as the fact that he cared enough to recall it in the first place, did things to him he didn't even want to acknowledge, "I've never heard of any man who was actually capable of standing guard inside a brothel. It's often just too distracting, with all those pretty ladies." He gestured around but Alec's eyes didn't follow. He wasn't interested in those pretty ladies, and the prostitute's smirk told him he was perfectly aware of that.

"I'm not interested," he somehow managed to say, stating the obvious.

"Aren't you?"

"No. Not at all." He tried to make his voice fierce, to tell the guy that it was time to back off, but either the message didn't get across or the man just waved it away, recognising it as a complete fluke.

"There is no fooling me, Alexander. This is my profession. I know exactly what you are," the man whispered in his ear, causing the hairs on the back of his neck to stand erect (much like a certain other body part of his) with anticipation and perhaps a little bit of fear.

He hadn't been figured out before, not by anyone else than his own sister anyway, and it was unnerving that a person he had met just a couple of minutes ago, a person he didn't even know the name of, had unmasked him within a single bat of the eye. Although, perhaps, that was just because this person actually knew what he was looking for, whereas others couldn't be bothered, weren't willing to consider or just weren't aware of the possibility.

"And what is that?" Too little, too late. Too insincere.

"Isn't that obvious? There is no shame in being what you are, Alexander. Not when you are in like-minded company," he told him with a wink.

"Oh." It was the best reply he could come up with. It was actually pretty impressive his dry lips managed to part at all and that he could concentrate long enough to force a sound to roll over his uncooperative tongue. The reply itself was barely more than a shaky exhale.

"Allow me to introduce myself," the man said, grabbing Alec's left hand and bringing it to his lips like a lord might do to a lady. The fingers of Alec's free hand dug into the wall behind him in either an attempt to keep standing upright on his unsteady knees or keep himself rooted to the earth. He didn't know. "I'm Magnus Bane."

Magnus kissed the knuckles of his hand. All of them. Then his tongue darted between the crack between his index and middle fingers, and Alec wondered how embarrassing it would be if such a tiny gesture caused him to topple over the edge.

"Alexander Lightwood," he practically squeaked.

"I know," Magnus said, clearly amused by his inability to think straight; of course Magnus knew who he was, he had just called him by name!

Damn! Magnus knew exactly what he was doing to him, and he probably knew what was at stake, too. He wondered if Magnus was just toying with him, seeing how far he could push before Alec gave in and started doing things he might regret, things that might get him confirmed as that something else he dreaded (something that could cost him his life; Idris laws were very old-fashioned and not at all reliant of those preferring the company men over that of women), and that thought cleared his head enough to at least give him a possibility to react.

He jerked his hand away from Magnus's grip like he had been burnt.

"I do not want this," he said, and when realisation dawned on Magnus's features, he knew that at least he understood. It wasn't that Magnus wasn't obnoxiously attractive, and it wasn't that Alec surely wouldn't mind lying back and allowing Magnus to do unspeakable things to him, but it just was that he could not. What if someone found out? What if Magnus or one of the other girls didn't keep their mouth shut? What if what had just transpired reached the ears of his parents; even though it was little more than a meeting in certain ways, it certainly was enough to raise suspicion, wasn't it? He should have pushed Magnus away instead of allowing himself to become completely mellow in his hands.

Magnus tentatively reached out for Alec's left hand again, and Alec let him. "You do," Magnus said softly, threading his fingers through Alec's and he could basically feel the tension glide away again. He had never been touched by another man like this, not with such clear intentions, had never been looked at with lust and never really allowed himself to think about the possibility of him laying with another man. Surely, he fantasised about it, and meeting a gorgeous man did wonderful things to his entire body, but actually being open about it was completely out of the question. He played his disinterest in women off as a sign of professionalism and loyalty, and so far he had succeeded in using that as a cover-up. Only his sister knew of his actual situation, and that had happened by accident.

It was just too much to receive the undivided attention of such a gorgeous man in a place that reeked like sex and sweat and exotic perfumes. It tore down his walls like a bull tore through a fence.

Magnus tugged on his hand to get his attention, and Alec's gaze locked into Magnus's mesmerising one. He could read understanding and many other things he couldn't quite place there. Magnus was too well-guarded for him to figure out within a handful of minutes after initially meeting him. He wasn't quite as open of a book as Alec tended to be which was completely understandable considering his profession. Alec had nothing to hide and nothing to lie about – aside from his sexuality, which was actually quite the secret to keep.

Alec allowed himself to be led through the floor they were currently on and then up a set of narrow stairs that protested loudly under their weight. They walked down a corridor, Magnus's fingers still loosely threaded with his, and came to a stop in front of a closed door. His long fingers wrapped around the doorknob and he twisted it gently, easing the door open. It swayed inward with a silent sigh and no creaking hinges.

Magnus led him inside and then let him go, closing the door with both hands.

They were in a nice suite, which was to be expected of an accommodation that was in such a high regard as this one. The theme of golds and reds had persisted here, and the king-sized bed next to the window was covered in richly-embroidered golden pillows and crimson sheets. A burgundy rug lay on the floor. Yellow fabric covered the open window filtered the incoming sunlight and made it less intense whilst bathing the entire room in a golden hue. It was warm but not unpleasantly so; they were probably on a cooler side of the building where the sun wasn't directly heating up the air.

"Make yourself comfortable," Magnus said after he'd poured them both a cup of wine. He pressed Alec's into his hand as he moved past him before plopping down onto the bed.

Alec awkwardly lowered himself into a chair near the unused fireplace. The room was tidy. It was swept, and there was a kettle standing on the mantelpiece, probably awaiting colder days and a neat pile of chopped wood next to the hearth itself in case it was desired. He wondered if these were Magnus's private chambers considering the fact he hadn't even bothered to check whether they were occupied before ambling in or if they just often went unused.

He decided it wasn't a train of thought worth pursuing and pushed his curiosity towards the back of his mind.

There were a lot more important things to think about.

His armour creaked as he shifted in his seat. "You can take it off, if you want to," Magnus said. He was lying amidst the pillows on the bed, his cup held between his slender fingers as he lazily swayed the liquid from side to side. He supported his chin with one propped hand, watching Alec intently through half-lidded eyes. His clothing blended in with his surroundings, making the green of his eyes even more popping and intense. Alec still had a hard time tearing his gaze away from him. He was just too captivating.

When he saw the hesitance on Alec's face, he sighed and rolled his eyes like Alec was being exceptionally difficult. "I won't do anything to you." Yet, probably! "It just seems like a burden."

And it was. He was glad a simple visit to the brothel not too far from the castle didn't require him to be fully-armed; he was just wearing his leather pads and his chain mail, not his fancy armour. He hadn't even brought his bow and quiver along. He was good with a sword but exceptionally skilled with a bow, and it pained him to leave his preferred weapon behind but bringing it along made him less mobile, so it was a tactical decision to make.

Still, was it wise to shrug off his armour in front of someone he had just met? Even though Magnus was clearly unarmed (there was literally no place for him to hide weapons – not with his tight clothing and his light robe), it still seemed to go against his principles. Plus, if he removed his chain mail that meant he would be left in just his tunic and breeches, which gave him preciously little cover if Magnus did something that would arouse him. Which, at this point, varied from Magnus batting his eyelashes to him even so much as shifting on the bed. His imagination was running wild and his body was greedily feeding off it, though not as bad as before. It certainly helped that Magnus wasn't directly touching him.

Was modesty really worth discomfort, though? He knew he would be stuck here for a while, and he also knew Magnus knew what his mere presence was doing to him, so keeping himself covered hardly mattered. Despite his attempts to be subtle, he might as well be sitting here with everything out in the open. Magnus could probably read him and his strained movements like an open book which was not only unfair but also highly embarrassing. Why did he allow such a handsome man to pull him into his bedroom again?

When Magnus threatened to get up to remove the armour himself, Alec finally caved. He put his cup on the mantelpiece for the time being as he worked on the knots that kept his thick leather armour strapped to his shoulders and arms.

"So, tell me a story." Alec looked up from his shoulder with raised eyebrows. "It's not like we are going to do anything else. Might as well entertain one another. Tell me a story. About you."

"I am sure my story is nothing in comparison to the stories you have already heard."

"Quite possibly – but at the moment hearing your story is the only thing I am interested in. The tales I have heard in the past are hardly relevant to the present."

"Is that so? If I remember correctly our entire monarchy is based on tales from the past." This Alec could do, he thought as he finished untying one arm and focused on the next. Simply talking was something he could achieve without getting too flustered. Magnus seemed intelligent and witty; a good conversational partner. He wondered why he was so surprised. Honestly, it wasn't like the only talent a prostitute (it made him wince to think about Magnus like that, but even though he was a male, that word did define his profession) had to have was being a great fuck. Most people demanded more than that, right? Wasn't going to a brothel a remedy for feeling lonely, too?

"Very true. But let's not talk about the history of the monarchy for the moment."

"What a shame," Alec scoffed, causing Magnus to laugh. He finally finished untying his armour and got up to peel it off and hang it over another chair. The experience was as unpleasant as expected since the thick, padded leather had pretty much attempted to fuse with his the soft leather of his tunic and the softer texture of his skin. His chain mail chimed merrily as he put it away.

His tunic was drenched with sweatm and he personally thought he looked gross and unattractive.

When he turned around, he saw Magnus gawking at him. Apparently he didn't quite share Alec's train of thought. He felt his cheeks flush and quickly moved back to the chair, lowering himself onto it again and snatching his cup from the mantelpiece like it was a lifeline.

Magnus's eyes just kept roving over his body.

"Didn't know you were hiding that, Lightwood," he said appreciatively. Alec supposed the tunic left very little to the imagination, with it sticking to every curve of his muscular body and all. At least he didn't have a noticeable erection, which was a small mercy. Although if Magnus continued to stare at him like that, he was pretty sure the blood would soon start rushing elsewhere than his cheeks. He was fit as was to be expected from someone in his position. He spent entire days training and horse-riding, and that did wonderful things for his body. Magnus seemed to think so as well.

"Anyway. My story," Alec said, his cheeks an alarming shade of red as he took a tentative sip of his wine. He didn't care for wine very much. He preferred beer, and even that he only drank with a sense of mild disgust. There were very few alternatives available, however, so he was used to drinking it. He just didn't enjoy it. Magnus seemed to notice. Magnus seemed to notice everything, from his comfortable position perched between his pillows. It made Alec self-conscious, but not in a bad way, somehow. Magnus had been open about thinking that Alec was attractive, and perhaps that had soothed some of his nerves. Had made him feel a bit more confident in himself. He liked the feeling; it was addictive.

"Yes, your story." Magnus shifted a little on his bed with his beautiful eyes focused solely on Alec's face, causing his cheeks to heat up.

"I think you know most of it already."

"Perhaps I do, but now I have been offered a rare insight in the matters. Please do continue."

He wondered what Magnus would do with the information he was about to receive. Probably store it away for later use. He wasn't sure how much he could share with someone like Magnus. He wasn't exactly an expert in this field, and he didn't know if there were rules to be followed or anything. Probably not. It probably just depended on how honest the prostitute was and how much they liked you. And how easily they could be bribed.

Still, he should be careful with overly personal details, just in case. They hadn't done anything to each other, but if Magnus decided to make up some story and he actually had proof of Alec's obvious attraction to him, then he could destroy him by just simply contacting the court, and he didn't want that to happen.

On the other hand, it was really nice to have someone pay attention to him and him alone. He was used to standing in the shadows, and even though he had never particularly minded, it was still nice to be in the spotlight even if just for a single person. No, the entire reason why he didn't mind standing in the spotlight at the moment was because of that single person.

He wanted Magnus to like him, even though it probably was in Magnus's description to be nice to anyone and reel in as much money as he could within as short of a period of time as possible, but that was something to mull over later. He didn't want to be weighed down by the knowledge that Magnus's interest in him was on a purely professional level, and he probably acted like this with anyone.

There was nothing exclusive about chatting with a whore, no matter how much he might wish for it to be.

"I grew up in the castle with my younger sister and Jace." It seemed weird to call Jace King Jonathan in Magnus's presence. For some reason, he got the feeling that titles didn't really matter here, which was nice. "And my younger brother and my parents and quite a few other people. Anyway, I had a really nice childhoo, which can of course be expected. When the late King died, he left behind his son, who was taken in by my family, so they could raise him instead. Jace immediately became my best friend."

"And something more," Magnus interrupted softly. Alec was taken aback by that.

"Not at all."

"No, but you wanted it to be."

"I was young, and I was foolish. I was confused. I did not know what I wanted, that was the entire problem. I spent years convincing myself that what was just a sliver of interest mixed with an overwhelming amount of confusion was full-blown attraction, and then I spent many more years beating myself up about it. I never felt anything for Jace. I was just obsessed with the idea of me feeling something for him, and I think the fact that he was so unreachable and it never was going to happen anyway gave me a feeling of safety. Or, well, gave me an excuse to make my own life even more difficult. I dragged myself through the dirt just because I was misunderstanding who I was and what I felt."

Magnus's interest seemed to be piqued by that, but he kept his pretty mouth closed, his lower lip sticking out in a cute little pout that was most definitely deliberate.

"Anyway, like I said, I had a nice childhood. Being the eldest son of an influential and very wealthy family, my position in the King's Guard was pretty much secured even before I properly befriended the King-in-waiting. So I spent my days training to be a decent soldier. I learnt a lot of things and travelled to a lot of places. Have you ever gone to the shore?"

When Magnus shook his head after a moment of hesitation, Alec continued enthusiastically. "You should. It's amazing."

"You are a wanderer."

"Not quite, I'm just curious." There was a shimmer in Magnus's eyes that made him blush. Again. "I took a liking to archery and fighting and reading, and I started active duty when I was sixteen due to my father's insistence."

"And when did you find out?"

Alec didn't have to ask what he was talking about. Instead, he shifted in his chair and took another contemplative sip of his wine. He wasn't stalling for effect or due to reluctance, it was more that he wasn't entirely sure. Had he known when his infatuation for Jace had started to grow to disastrous proportions, or was it before that? Or afterwards, when he met Moris, who not only returned his interests but was also a member of another important family? Who was also coincidentally the first and last guy he had ever kissed?

Magnus was still waiting when Alec made up his mind. "I must have been twelve," he decided. "When Jace joined our family. I didn't come to terms with it until I was seventeen, though."

"And even now you are still hiding." When Alec shrugged, Magnus rose from the bed to pour himself another cup of wine. He raised a single eyebrow and tilted his head in the direction of Alec's cup, still half full.

He shook his head, too affected by that sexy eyebrow to trust himself to speak. Once Magnus had poured his fill, he ambled back to the bed and once again lowered himself into that lazy, casual position. He was all long limbs and lean muscle, and there was not a thing about him that Alec didn't feel extremely attracted to which presented a problem.

"What about you?" he asked quietly, suddenly feeling the urge to turn the tables for just a single question.

"Oh, me? I have always known." When Alec was about to protest, Magnus tapped his long fingers against the rim of his cup and gave him a look that told him to hold his horses for a second longer. "I am born into this. My mother was a prostitute, and my father was an unpleasant asshole I have fortunately never had the displeasure to meet which made things pretty tricky from the day I was born. My mother was allowed to keep me, because a whorehouse can always use a helping hand that needn't be paid, and she was well-loved. I grew up doing little chores. Making the beds and cleaning the linen and refilling the jugs of wine; things a boy my age could handle.

"I must have been eleven when I found out I thought male genitals were a tad too enticing to be completely normal, and when I confronted my mother about it, she was torn between happiness since there was a future for me aside from being tossed on the streets once I grew older and too much to handle for the master of the house, and sadness, because not everyone is cut out to live a life like we do. She kept it quiet for a few months, just to make sure. Then things started to change. I was becoming too old to keep around without forming a threat, so my mother went to the owner of the pleasure house and negotiated with him. By that time I had been taught to do many things. I was trained to do make-up and braid hair, to wash and clean and bathe, and I was valuable. Even more so since I was also capable of performing other actions."

Alec was listening with bated breath. He wondered why Magnus was being so open with him, so honest.

"I was twelve when he sold me to another brothel in another city. There I was schooled in what it meant to pleasure a man. This brothel had another man like me around, which was why I was sold to them in the first place; not every place specialises in homo-erotic preferences, after all." The casual tone of voice with which Magnus said that caused Alec to blush. Nearly everything that tumbled over those full lips caused him to blush, as a matter of fact.

"I learnt the most from the women, though. They were more open about it, more helpful. After that, I was transferred a dozen other times, until I finally ended up here in the capital."

There was so much more to that story, but Alec already felt honoured Magnus had been willing to share this much with him and didn't dare to pry. He opened his mouth to respond and continue his inquiry, since something sad had seemed to creep into Magnus's story along the road, but never got the chance to.

Someone knocked on the door, and when Magnus told them to come in, a blonde girl swayed into the room. She was a beauty, although whether this was due to her expertly-applied make-up and ointments or due to natural beauty, Alec couldn't tell. Her blonde hair had been done up in a complicated braid, a few loose curls falling over her shoulders and framing her face. Her eyes were green, but not nearly as enticing or unique as Magnus's. Her skin was a light gold, like syrup or honey.

"Camille," Magnus said with a smile and a nod. Camille didn't seem very interested in Magnus, though. Instead, she focused on Alec, who was sitting in the armchair by the fireplace and looking positively sheepish, wondering what would have happened if Magnus and he had been in a passionate make-out session. Camille probably would have barged in anyway. This hardly seemed like a place where privacy was considered a high priority, but he could be mistaken. What could he know, after all?

"His Majesty seems to have lost his favourite guard. He wants me to tell you that if you don't hurry up he's going home alone and will have your sister scold you."

Magnus and Camille wore identical grins as Alec placed his cup on the arm of the chair and jumped up. Isabelle could be scary when she wanted to, and he would be damned before he allowed Jace to cross the streets without him by his side, even though there was a handful of guards waiting outside, ready to escort the King home.

And he kind of felt like he was overstaying his welcome, anyway; he certainly didn't know how many more raised eyebrows and meaningful glances he could perceive without caving.

He expertly tied his armour around his frame, his fingers easily making the necessary knots. It was always harder to shed the armour than to don it, and he had been deliberately stalling it before. Now, he was done within just a few moments, entirely aware of both Magnus and Camille's gaze devouring him while he did so.

He wondered what Camille thought of him being there with Magnus. He also wondered what Magnus thought of him and if he would think about him after he left him. Probably not.

He saluted Magnus (receiving a sultry glance and a wiggling of long, slender fingers in return) and rushed through the door, Camille on his heels to escort him to where Jace was waiting. He would probably mock him for this, probably jump to the wrong conclusions and congratulate him for finally getting laid, but he didn't care. Talking with Magnus had been wonderful, and he didn't regret it. Not at all.

Let me know what you think of it! Reviews are always very welcome! :D