Fading Scars: A Series of Malec One Shots

There's Something About Thigh Holsters

Thigh holsters are used for many reasons. In a Shadowhunter's case, they're used to sheath their seraph blades. Recently introduced, every Shadowhunter was required to have one on each leg or just on one. It was their choice. Alec wore his on his left thigh and it couldn't have been more sexy looking.

The first time Magnus saw him with it, he found it rather odd. "Doesn't that restrict your movement at all?"

"What, this?" Alec pointed to the holster. "No. Not really. I don't really agree with it but that's part of the required equipment now. You don't like it?"

"Well...." Magnus wouldn't say that he didn't, because he honestly thought it looked kind of sexy. The way it hugged Alec's muscular thigh almost made him jealous of an inanimate object. It was ridiculous. "It just seems impractical if you needed to do flips and stuff."

Alec raised an eyebrow. He was obviously amused by Magnus' reluctance to tell the truth but he said nothing as he sheathed his blade into the holster. "I'll make sure to put in a complaint to the Clave. 'Unable to do flips and stuff'."

Magnus shot him a look. "Laugh all you want but one day those things will be the death of you. I'll be at your funeral, dressed in a gorgeous suit and looking all fabulous, leaning over your corpse and you know what I'll whisper?" He leaned in, his voice dropping in pitch. "I told you so."

Alec snorted. "Relax, would you? Next thing I know you'll be telling me that steles are impractical and I might sit on it and it'll go up my ass."

"I haven't thought of that one. But you're right. It may actually rip through your pants-"

"I can't listen to this. If I'm laughing during the mission, I'll compromise it completely," Alec quickly kissed him on the cheek. "I'll be home later tonight. Don't wait up for me."

"I won't..." Magnus grumbled, tossing more powder into his potion. Stupid Shadowhunter and his sexy thigh holster....thinks he's all that and a bag of chips.

In bed later that night, Magnus lay under the covers waiting for Alec to come home. This was the worst part, the waiting. There was always a chance that he might not come home but Magnus couldn't think about that. He always kept a positive head on his shoulders. But there were nights where he'd wake up in a sweat, screaming Alec's name because he had a nightmare or another that Alec was killed in battle and he couldn't save him.

The bedroom light suddenly flicked on. A rumpled but unharmed Alec stood in the doorway, looking down at Magnus with a confused expression.

"Are you okay? You're up later than usual," he said as he took off his jacket.

"I don't go to sleep until I know you're home safe and sound," said Magnus. When he sat up in the bed, he sent a silent thank you to whatever higher beings were out there as Alec reached up to the collar of the back of his shirt, grabbed a hold of it and slid it over his head. Magnus had to swallow past a moan in his throat before he could properly speak. "So how did it go? Kick some ass and take some names?"

Alec looked over his pale shoulder at him. "Yes. Clary nearly ruined the mission but we got lucky. Rogue vampires are a pain in the ass to handle."

"I believe you," Magnus let his eyes roam down over his boyfriend's upper body, taking in all the angles and muscles that shifted and moved fluidly under pale skin. "I'm glad you're home though. The anxiety was killing me."

"I'm glad to be home. I'm exhausted." Alec reached down to the holster wrapped around his thigh and began to unclip it.

Something as simple as a thigh holster shouldn't be so arousing. As Alec's long and slim fingers worked their way through the series of clips that held it snug against his thigh, Magnus could feel the blood rushing down south as each click made him grow harder and harder. Embarrassed, he shifted to his side so that the blankets weren't tented.