A/N: More fluff that will make you need to go see a dentist. This is the result of 5 cups of coffee, 3 energy bars, and my blood, sweat and tears. I better be getting reviews for this. Just kidding.. But seriously... (wink)

This is for Zippy, who gave me this little plot bunny:

I want Alec working at some sort of grocery store as clerk person and Magnus the customer who shops there just to see him. They bond over those little horoscope booklet things at the register. They fall in love. Fluffy, clicheness please?

The first time was on a rainy Wednesday in November.

"That'll be twelve-fifty, sir." Alec smiled politely as he pressed the button for the receipt to start printing. He let out an almost inaudible annoyed huff as he watched the old man dish out twelve dollars and fifty cents in change.

Seemingly to have heard the huff, the man looked up. "Now hold your horses sonny, I know I have an extra dime somewhere!" He dug into his man-purse-satchel-whatever-the-fuck and pulled out a nickel. He placed it on the large heaping pile of other change happily, an almost toothless grin in place.

Alec didn't have the heart or the strength to tell him he still owed five cents. So he smiled a tight smile, and slowly took the pile of change. "Have a good day." He said forcefully as he stuck the receipt into the bag handed filled with dried prunes and vitamins and other such old guy stuff.

He sighed, it was a Wednesday, and the costumer flow was extremely slow. There was not a single soul in the little rinky-dink convenience store besides him and his asshole manager, Hodge. Time seemed to tick slower and slower, mesmerizing Alec with its tortuous pace. Tick. Tick. Tick. He clicked his pen in annoyance, staring intently at the large clock hanging above the giant display of Cokes and Pepsis.

He looked around carefully on the lookout for Hodge. He whipped out his phone, a little Angry Birds couldn't hurt anyone, right?

Flicking at his screen, Alec was determined to put an end to the evil abnormally colored pigs of doom. Flick, click, crash. Flick, click, crash. He smirked as the pigs disappeared with a little poof.

The bell dinged, signaling a newcomer and immediately Alec slipped his phone back into his pocket of his man-apron. He looked up, wondering sarcastically if it was another penny-pinching old guy, or perhaps someone like Old Barta, a half-blind seventy year old with a passion of extreme couponing.

Instead, he saw the first person under 45 in a long, long time.

Hot. Hot. Hot. That's all Alec could think of as the man strutted in. He was dressed flamboyantly, black leather hot pants and an extremely low cut pink V-neck.

Now, Alec was always against low V-necks, as he believes there comes a point when your V-neck shirt just becomes a slutty dress. But he never appreciated them more when they revealed that golden tanned, muscled chest. He admitted this guy pulled off V-necks way better than the hairy-chested pudgy alcoholic from the apartment across to his.

He had on makeup, a copious amount of eyeliner and his lips glistened in a mouth-watering way, but looked to be the product of cosmetics. He was beautiful, right down to the last stand of jet-black hair gelled to stick up in spikes.

Alec ducked behind the rack of magazines and candy as he saw the no-named hottie turn around. For the sake of description, Alec dubbed him Mr. Sextiger.

Mr. Sextiger seemed to have a bit of an expensive taste, taking the real Ferrero-Rocher chocolate bon-bon things over the knock off general brand ones. He also seemed to favor the Stride gum, even if it was 20 cents more expensive than the Trident. Alec didn't even want to think about the fact that he was stalking Mr. Sextiger's gum choices.

The red plastic shopping basket was hung over his shoulder as if it was a couture purse, and not completely chipped and on the verge of collapsing. He didn't just walk, either, because walking was for plebeians. He strut like a model on a runway, one foot walking straight in front of the next.

Alec watched dazedly as the man's perfect, perfect mouth twisted into a smirk as he did his strut down a non-existent runway. Right into the general direction of Alec.

Shit. Alec immediately fumbled, straightening his clothes and flattening the hair that never seemed to flatten anyway.

"Hi." Mr. Sextiger whispered in a way that was sure to cause the explosion of ovaries in a 30 mile radius.

"H-Hello." Alec stammered, pulling at his bangs nervously. He was fresh out the closet, and even with the new found freedom to ogle and check out as he pleased, Alec still quaked when he came in direct contact with a guy that met his fancy.

Mr. Sextiger took the red shopping basket off his shoulder, and put it on the edge of the conveyer belt. The Fererro Rochers along with the Stride gum, the newest edition of Vogue, and a box of Chai Tea.

He seemed enthralled with a magazine on the rack beside the check-out. "What is your sign?" He asked, and his accent coursed through his words, and Alec wasn't sure what accent it was. It was posh, like the stereotypical English accent, but had other notes of exotic-ness Alec couldn't place.

Alec blinked dazedly, blushing a rather unbecoming shade of red. Mr. Sextiger came into view from behind the rack, and was holding a copy of those stupid little horoscope books.

Now closer than ever, Alec could see the green, almost supernaturally beautiful eyes. He blinked. "Huh?"

The man looked amused, eyes squinting up in a half-smile. "Sign. What's yours?" He shook the book in his hands.

"Sagittarius." Alec muttered, reaching awkwardly for the Ferrero Rochers just to have something to look at. He scanned them, purposefully missing the bar code just to stall a little bit longer.

The sound of pages flipping and the conveyer belt moving covered up the awkwardness. "Is your birthday this month?" He asked suddenly, and Alec blinked up. His family was never one to celebrate birthdays, they go by quickly without much care.

"Yeah- The 20th." Alec said, proud to have kept the stutter out of his voice. Mr. Sextiger nodded, as if very fascinated by this piece of information.

"Sagittarius..." The sound of more pages flipping, and Alec's halfway through scanning his items. "Remember that people can take your world by storm. People will come in your life, and will leave as well. But keep in mind that door out of your life isn't locked. Huh."

Alec listened to the silky voice speaking his future, and he snorted a bit. He didn't believe much in horoscopes, or tarot, or other 'witch-craftastic' things his parents banned him from believing.

Mr. Sextiger looked up expectantly, as if awaiting praise, or for Alec to jump up in surprise, reaching an epiphany. "Not much of a believer, are you?" He asked, smile on his face.

Alec just shook his head. "No, not really."

"Hm." He looked ponderous for a second. "They have more truth than they seem."

Alec just nodded, putting the issue of Vogue into the plastic bag. "You're total is 17.21, please." Alec said, pulling the receipt out of the printing box.

The man pulled out a twenty, and Alec can't help but appreciate the fact that he didn't pull out a large bucket of coins, like his other 'valued customers'.

Alec gave him his change, with a hesitant smile. "Have a good day." He whispered, and gave the plastic baggie to Mr. Sextiger. He took it with a sexy grin.

"You too, Alec." Then he turned on his heel, and Alec had a very nice view of something he wanted to see a bit more often. Alec turned red at the thought.

Then he blinked, the sudden realization that the man knew his name. Alec wracked his brain excitedly, thinking if they've met before. The obvious reason made him deflate visibly. Nametag.

The next day (Thursday)

Alec had a shift at the grocery store every Wednesday, Monday and every other Thursday. The next day after meeting Mr. Sextiger, Alec looked up every time the bell ringed. He was disappointed to see it was only another old hag getting their jolly rocks off by torturing him with their endless supply of outdated coupons.

The door dinged and Alec looked up, again expecting a pair of green eyes and a sexy swagger, but instead saw Isabelle, his slightly promiscuous sister. "Izz!" He called, hoping the disappointed glare was gone.

It wasn't. "Who were you expecting?" Isabelle teased, her heels clicking as she walked her way to the register. Her hair was tied back in a high ponytail, a long black length swinging behind her.

"No one." Alec said immediately, looking down. He's not going to blush, goddamnit. Fail, again.

"Uh huh." Isabelle squinted at him suspiciously.

"Really!"

"I know that face, Alec. You like someone," Isabelle teased suddenly.

"No!" Alec protested weakly.

"Sure. Let's just pretend that you don't wanna swallow some guy's di-" Alec turned bright red.

"Isabelle-"

"-ck like a thirsty man in a desert with no-"

"ISABELLE!" Alec hissed, turning red.

"Sorry, sorry." Isabelle didn't look sorry at all, actually. She just pranced over, taking an extravagant sip of the iced tea Alec had open on his counter. He just stared sadly.

"Why are you here anyways?" Alec asked, leaning his forearms against the conveyer belt. He looked up, watching Isabelle pick up the very same horoscope book, and flipping through it, snorting just as he would a couple of days ago.

She flipped it shut with an exasperated huff. "Your birthday, Alec? Your eighteenth friggen birthday? The day that you stop foolishly preserving your gay-ass virginity?"

"Shut up," Alec whined, pushing his too-long bangs out of his eyes.

"It's in three weeks, Alec. Then you'll be legal, free to roll around in the sheets with someone you like. Or don't like." Isabelle grinned.

"You're such a whore." Alec stated with no emotion in his voice. Just stating facts, right?

Isabelle just gave him a look. "And proud. Now seriously, I'm sick of you being alone."

Alec gnawed at his lip. "Well... There is this gu-"

Isabelle perked up immediately. "Who? What? Is he blond? Is he tall? Oh em gee, oh em gee!" She squealed, jumping up and down happily.

"He's this guy I met yesterday. I probably have no chance though." Isabelle frowned, placing dainty hands on her hips.

"Why not?"

"He's a customer. I probably won't ever see him again."

"Oh... Well, was he hot?"

"Very." Alec pressed his lips together, nodding solemnly.

"Did you get his name at least?" Isabelle pressed.

Mr. Sextiger. Alec blushed. "No."

"Well, shit." Isabelle pouted, apparently upset to hear that Alec's main choice to lose his gay-ass virginity to was crushed.

Next Wednesday

Alec couldn't stop thinking about him. He knew that he would probably never see him again, yet his head still flung up whenever he heard the bell.

Soon, after one too many soccer moms waddling in in ugly tracksuits, Alec gave up. He's never going to see Mr. Sextiger ever again.

He rung up another person who wasn't Mr. Sextiger glumly. The clocked chimed lightly as it struck twelve-o-clock. Lunch break.

Alec pulled out the pack lunch from his bag under the counter. Taking an unhappy munch out of his ham and cheese sandwich, he stared at the giant mess waiting to be cleaned up. Damn four year olds and their damn temper tantrums.

Grumbling unhappily and taking angry bites out of his lunch, he didn't even look up when the door bell rung. Probably another annoying-ass couponer.

"Alec." A smooth honey sweet voice called him. 'Probably just another hallucination, just ignore it, Alec.'

Alec continued to take large bites out of his bland sandwich. "Alec." There it was again. Alec turned his body, expecting another ugly tracksuited woman, but instead there he was. Alec choked, coughing loudly.

Mr. Sextiger looked semi-worried, casting his eyes in a sympathetic glare. "Alec. Is that short for anything?" He asked, tracing a painted finger over the name tag. Alec turned fire engine red. 'He's touching my chest. He's touching my chest. Deep breaths. Deep breaths."

Alec swallowed, looking up at Mr. Sextiger through his eyelashes. "Alexander. It's short for Alexander, but no one calls me that. Only my mother when she's pissed at me." Alec laughed awkwardly, not daring to look at his face.

"Alexander, huh? I think I'll call you that from now on. It's far more regal than Alec." He seemed miffed, and Alec couldn't help but feel a little inadequate under his gaze.

Alec just gave a shaky laugh. "Okay."

"Now, do you mind pointing me to the baked goods section?" He asked in that stupidly sexy accent.

"Aisle 8." Alec immediately responded, the aisle numbers engraved into his mind.

"Thank you." With a blazing look, Mr. Sextiger goes in search of Aisle 8.

He came back with a cupcake from the bakery and a copy of Us Weekly. "So which do you prefer, chocolate or vanilla?"

"Chocolate, but with vanilla frosting." Alec smiled.

"I'm the opposite, I like vanilla with chocolate frosting." The man grinned, reaching a long arm over to grab at the tiny horoscope book, he started flipping immediately. "Sagittarius..." He mumbled softly, and even that sounded elegant and smooth.

" Influential people can appear like magic to lead you in the right direction, but don't leave everything to fate, take control of your own life. You are blessed with natural star–power and can gain support from those who count. If a uncomfortable situation arises, don't assume anything. Wait it out, keep a good conscious." Mr. Sextiger finished, looking down at Alec with a grin.

"Huh." Alec didn't sound too enthusiastic, he never did at these things. He placed the cupcake into a plastic bag, and looked up to see the guy's eyebrows raised expectantly, like he was still waiting for more.

"So, what's your sign?" Alec asked, a beat too late.

"I'm a Leo." He looked down flipping through the booklet again, before a large smirk contorted his features. "We're extremely compatible."

Alec flushed darkly, but kept his mouth shut, afraid he might say something stupid.

"It says: Patience may not be your strong point this week, but hold on tight. Someone who will appreciate you for who you are is coming soon."

"Well." Alec smiled a little bitterly, "Good luck with finding that person." He handed the bag to Mr. Sextiger.

"I think I've already have." He stared into Alec's blue eyes for a second too long, then turned, strutting down the aisle to the door. Alec blinked dazedly, 'What just happened?'

Alec didn't even care he didn't get his name.

The Next Wednesday

"Look, Izz, I don't need a big party, okay? I just want to spend it quietly." Alec hissed into his phone, looking into the mirror.

A slight pause as if Isabelle was thinking of an answer. "Fine, but I'm tired of you being alone. You need someone in your horribly boring, virgin life."

"Shut up." The phone was now wedged between his ear and shoulder as he held up different shirts. If Mr. Sextiger was to come today, Alec better look presentable.

"Seriously, Alec. You haven't had a boyfriend in..." Isabelle paused sarcastically, "Oh wait, ever."

Alec nearly threw his phone out the window. "Bye." He hung up.

Choosing a slightly less threadbare shirt than the majority of his wardrobe, he tugged it on. Feeling satisfied enough, he reached for the dumb pink and brown manly apron.

He looked on more time into the cracked mirror, and was out the door.

To say Alec was excited was an understatement. He couldn't stand still, always bouncing, and he lost count of the times his head flung up to look at the door. He was constantly touching his hair, and smoothing out the wrinkles in his clothes. It was kind of pathetic, actually.

He couldn't think about anything but Mr. Sextiger, and seriously he really needed to find out his name.

Alec didn't even bat an eye as a blond haired pretty boy came to the check out with twelve pounds worth of mangoes. And nothing else.

"Have a good day." His words were half-assed, as his eyes were trained on the door.

Alec was suddenly a bit glum. It was almost three, what if he didn't show? But still, he looked at the door.

Seeing the extravagantly colorful figure through the glass door, Alec's heart sped up a little. Except this time, he wasn't alone. A female figure dressed extravagantly came with him, dangling off his arm.

She was beautiful, and Alec could appreciate that, even if he bat for the other team. Long silky blond hair, big blue eyes.

They seemed friendly enough, Mr. Sextiger's arm draped around her shoulders as they laughed and Alec's heart clenched. His laugh was perfect, and it really did sound better with her twinkling giggle entwined with it.

'Maybe they were just friends?' As soon as Alec even thought it, the stranger leaned down and tucked a stray strand of strawberry blond hair between her ears. That wasn't so just-friend like. Alec bit down the ugly jealousy springing in his heart. He should be happy for them, maybe this was the person that 'will appreciate him for him'.

They were laughing at some inside joke Alec would never understand. The mans still carried the tattered shopping basket like it was a purse, swung over his shoulder, and still had the same strut he did the first time. Alec tried to ignore the fact that the blond girl had the same graceful, yet powerful walk that Alec didn't.

They seemed to be the perfect couple, his dark broodiness fitting perfectly her white unblemished skin and her light gold hair.

He took to organizing his check-out counter instead of watching them. Plastic bags were straightened, pens put together.

"Alexander." His accent-thick voice called out to him. Alec jumped, nearly hitting his head on the cash register.

"Hi." He said, refusing to look into either of their eyes.

Mr. Sextiger didn't seem to notice, caught up in a conversation with his girlfriend. Why would he pay attention to the lowly cashier guy when he a beautiful model right in front of him, right?

"You know how I feel about your parents, Camille!" The man protested, and all Alec could care about was 'her name was Camille?' It was a regal name, far more regal than Alexander.

"Magnus! You still owe me for that week I babysat your demon of a cat!" She also had an accent, but unlike Magnus' indistinguishable one, her's was a extremely thick French accent.

Magnus. His name was Magnus.

It hurt to know he only found this out through eavesdropping on his conversation with his girlfriend.

He was an idiot.

The following Wednesday

It was his birthday. And honestly, he didn't feel any different. He didn't feel any more grown up, or older, or hell even more happy now that he's eighteen.

"I'm not going. I just want a quiet birthday, please?" Alec was tired of this. He just wanted to sleep a little.

"What about the mysterious-sexy-only-comes-on-wednesdays-store-guy ?"

"He has a girlfriend." Alec admitted in a sort of self-pitying tone that he hated.

"...Oh. Are you sure?"

"Yeah."

"I'm sorry." Isabelle really sounded sorry this time.

"It's fine. I gotta go, Hodge is coming." He hung up, feeling a bit emptier than before. Hodge wasn't really coming.

Alec stopped looking at the door every time the bell dinged. He stopped nervously smoothing out his shirt and hair. He stopped thinking about Mr. Sexti- Magnus. Magnus. Even his name fitted his personality perfectly.

It was horrible way to spend your birthday, honestly.

"Alexander." Alec's head shot up immediately. He looked around, and there was no beautiful blond girl in sight.

Magnus was holding up a plastic box that held a cupcake, a chocolate cupcake with vanilla icing.

He scanned it anyways, and placed it in a plastic bag. Magnus took out his pink snakeskin(of course) wallet and held out a 5.

Alec gave him his change, still refusing to acknowledge him. He treated him like a regular customer, regardless if it was an extreme couponer, or some deaf old guy. Aloof, but polite.

Alec was confused. That was his favorite, but not the other man's. "I thought your favorite was vanilla with chocolate icing."

"It is." The sides of his mouth flicked up to a curve. "But this is yours." He opened the box and took out the pastry gently. Alec blinked surprisedly.

"Happy birthday, Alexander." He husked, handing the cupcake to Alec.

It would've been really sweet, and it would've made Alec's day, if he didn't picture Camille's laughing face as he reaches for the cupcake. "You remembered." Alec settled on that.

Magnus just smiled.

Alec licked his thumb where a little bit of icing rubbed on it. He tried not to shiver as Magnus' eyes seemed to be trained on his lips. Girlfriend. Girlfriend.

"Have a good birthday, Alexander." He murmured, running his hand through Alec's hair, brushing his bangs to one side.

Alec just stared, tasting the vanilla icing on the tip of his tongue.

"He likes you, dumbass!" was all Isabelle said when he told her what happened.

Alec really wanted to believe. 'Girlfriend. Girlfriend.'

The following Wednesday

It was a busy workday, for a Wednesday that is. Alec had five people lining up behind the register, and Simon, had three. That was as busy as it got on Wednesdays.

So when the door bell chimed, Alec only got a glimpse of Magnus, before forcing his eyes away to deal with Mrs. Beltson and the arduous task of convincing a headstrong old grandma that coupons seven years out of date will not be accepted.

He tried to explain it to her and eye-stalk at Magnus, but failed epically, stumbling over his words. Finally, the transaction was complete, after explaining, yelling, and most embarrassingly, sweet talking. "Have a good day."

The next four people went by faster, and soon Magnus had got on line. Even though Simon's line and even the Express lane was empty.

It was kind of really sweet, actually. If he didn't have a girlfriend, that is.

A frozen pecan pie.

Five kinds of salad dressing.

A bottle of Italian wine.

Two beef steaks.

An assortment of vegetables.

He was making dinner. Alec was again reminded of Camille. "Making dinner for someone special?" Alec asked as Magnus dug in the rack of magazines for the weekly horoscope.

"Yes. Well, maybe. Depends." Magnus seemed a little nervous, which was highly uncharacteristic. He was flipping quickly through the book.

Alec opened his mouth to say something, but Magnus held up a hand to stop him. "Leo: The energy from today's astral configuration may give you the courage to ask someone absolutely sensational out for a meal. Not that you are usually short of words, but in this instance it is the age-old worry of being rejected by someone that you have grown to completely adore that is causing the problem. However, once you have gotten the words out, and they have been accepted - all will be well."

"I always thought those things were a load of boloney." Alec blushed at his immature choice of words.

Magnus looked up questioningly. "I mean, you already have a girlfriend, so it's not like... Nevermind." Alec looked down awkwardly.

"Girlf- You mean Camille?" Magnus asked, laughing. Alec nodded slowly, thoroughly confused. "That's my resident fag-hag, Alexander."

Alec blinked. 'Oh. OH.' "Oh. Uh, sorry. Let's just forget this. So umm, making dinner for someone special?"

Cheering internally, Alec started grinning happily. Magnus is single!

"Depends." Magnus pursed his glossy lips together.

"On?" Alec asked, putting the last of the groceries into a baggie.

"You." Magnus whispered, staring into Alec's eyes in a way that made heat flood through his entire body.

"Me? Wha—What do you mean?" Alec couldn't tear his eyes away from Magnus' stunning multicolored green eyes.

"Will you be obliged to have dinner with me this evening?"

Alec stared. And stared. And stared.

Magnus who didn't have a girlfriend, hotass extraordinaire, was asking him out. On a date. "Yes. Yes." Alec flushed excitedly.

Magnus' face flashed with happiness, his eyes slanting slightly as his mouth pulled up, exposing a row of shiny teeth.

"Did I get your preferred salad dressing?" He asked suddenly.

Alec looked down. Italian. French. Ranch. Thousand Island. Blue Cheese.

"You got it." And Alec really, really thought it was really, really, sweet.

The fullness in his stomach caused a sort of hazy euphoria spreading through his body. He felt warm, and sleepy and fuzzy. The wine tingled pleasantly on his taste buds, causing a satisfied smile to spread on his face.

"Magnus?" He whispered, leaning on Magnus' chest.

"Hmm?" Magnus hummed, pulling Alec closer to him. His skin was hot, overheated and Alec wasn't sure if it was the heating or if it was natural.

"Why did you only come on Wednesdays? To the store, I mean?" Alec asked, yawning happily as Magnus fed him another piece of pecan pie.

Magnus pulled back for a second, looking into Alec's eyes. A playful almost sheepish smile in place. "It was the only day I knew you worked."

"That's really- That's really sweet. You're so sweet." Alec poked him in the cheek, before tracing around his face, landing on the top of his lip.

Alec's eyes were hooded with sleepiness and lust. Magnus took another sip of the wine, his throat feeling a little dry. ""Alexand-" Magnus started but was cut off by a certain black-hair male's lips.

Magnus tasted like the wine they were drinking and Chai tea and a little bit of Stride gum. Alec chased the taste, tongues twining with each other, tracing each other's teeth, the roofs of mouths.

Alec felt an adrenaline rush flow through him. He felt powerful and happy, and suddenly, he felt sharper and not so hazy any more. The smell of expensive cologne and sandalwood flooded his senses, as he continued to kiss Magnus.

It wasn't his first, but it sure as hell was his best. "Alexander," Magnus breathed and that elegant twang of an accent sent heat twirling down his body, curling at the pit of his stomach.

Alec flushed an unbecoming red. "Magnus." He whispered back.

Magnus stood up first, brushing invisible crumbs from his soft pants, and reached down to help Alec up. Alec took his offered hand, but didn't let go.

They walked to the bedroom hand-in-hand.

In the end, maybe he really did stop foolishly preserving his gay-ass virginity. And maybe, he didn't regret it. At all.

A/N: This story doesn't really have an ending, I kinda just stopped it. So I'm not sure if I should label it complete or not, because I most likely will be adding more stuff to it. That is, if you want.

PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE Review. Please.