Chapter Text
Mako gets no sleep that night. And not just because his ass is on fire. He lies in his bed on his stomach, having only had the energy to make it to his room after he heard Jamison leave. It’s early when he calls Zarya.
“Mako?” she answers on the fourth ring. She sounds groggy but concerned.
“He’s gone,” he croaks out; his throat rough from crying all night.
“What? Who is gone?” she demands.
“Jamison. I told him to leave last night,” he says, choking on a building sob. He doesn’t know what to do. He hasn’t been able to calm down since Jamison left and it feels like the hurt will never end.
There’s a long, pregnant pause before Zarya swears. “Did he give you collar? I told him time was not right,” she huffs out. “He asks me, ‘Would Mako prefer bracelet or necklace collar?’ and I tell him neither; is too soon. But he buys anyways.”
Mako tries to respond but he can’t say anything past his broken sobs.
“I am coming over with Mei. She is better at cuddling than me. It will be okay,” she promises before hanging up.
Mako lets himself cry out and just lies there, feeling empty and exhausted and useless. The only reason he drags himself out of bed is to dress. He wouldn’t give a fuck if it was just Zarya but if Mei is coming with he’d rather be decent. He gingerly slides on his softest pair of sweat pants after using the topical spray on himself as best he can and then finds a wife beater. When the doorbell rings, he snags a pachimari from his bed and pads barefoot to the door. Zarya takes one look at him before embracing him.
“I’m so sorry,” she says and then pauses to swear in Russian. “I should have never introduced you to him. When he told me he needed a distraction from temptation at home I thought you two would be a good match but I should have-” she trails off, upset with herself. “Now you are having sub-drop.”
She’s right, he realizes. Mako hasn’t fallen apart after a scene in years and so he didn’t recognize his depressive state for what it is. But it’s no more her fault than Jamison’s; it’s simply an unfortunate byproduct of a botched scene with missing aftercare. But everything is still so raw, he’s afraid to speak about it, lest he opens the flood gate of tears back up. Maybe if he hadn’t been so hasty to ask Jamison to leave, he wouldn’t be in this mess—but he’d panicked. They’d spent a week having fun and within one evening Jamison had attempted to shift their entire dynamic.
He notices Mei standing to the side in footie pajamas and he can't help the small smile that tugs at his lips. Her eyes meet his and she points to his stuffed animal and gives him a thumbs up. He steps back inside and makes room for both of them to enter.
“I’ll make some coffee and breakfast,” he says, as he leads them to the living room.
“Nyet. You will rest. Mei will cuddle. I will cook something hearty,” she commands; her Domme voice showing.
Mako sags in relief and heads to a couch with the stuffed pachi in hand as Zarya heads to the kitchen. She knows her way around his house, so he doesn’t bother to show her where things are. Instead, he tries to arrange the pillows to make it more comfortable to sit. Mei catches on and sits at one end of the couch, patting her plush thighs in invitation for him to rest his head upon them. He sags in relief before stretching out on his deep leather couch with his head pillowed on Mei’s lap.
“Thanks,” he rumbles out.
She strokes his hair while she swings her feet over the edge, not quite tall enough for Mako’s custom furniture. “Never had a drop before. Are they scary?” she asks.
He sighs. “I feel drained. Of everything. And sad,” he says.
“Do you want to talk about it?”
“Not really,” he admits. A lot of the hurt is still too fresh and he honestly wishes it was Jamison’s lap he was resting in. He wants to talk to Jamison, maybe salvage what is left between them, but figures it might be best to wait for them both to calm down. He dozes off as Mei continues to play with his hair and turns on early morning cartoons to watch.
The smell of breakfast rouses him from sleep and his stomach growls in hunger. Mei giggles and looks down at him. “Think you can sit up?” she asks as Zarya sets down mugs of coffee and hands Mei her plate. He grunts and shifts to a sitting position with a wince. Zarya sits on the other side of him and hands him a plate piled high with pancakes and fresh fruit. He groans in appreciation before digging in.
They sit together watching cartoons as they eat, and Mako feels some of the overwhelming sorrow leach away. “Thanks,” he grunts out.
Zarya smiles at him. “I will always have your back, Mako. We are a family.”
__
It’s been 3 months since Mako last saw Jamison. He thinks about him constantly but wishes he could stop. Knowing Jamison has his number and hasn’t called him sits in the back of his mind and festers. He hurt Jamison, so he shouldn’t be surprised, but Jamison had hurt him too. The intensity and timing of the offered collar after such a draining scene, it had been too much too fast. Of course he wanted to be Jamison’s submissive but that collar had been the equivalent of a marriage proposal. How someone proposes can be a surprise but the idea of it should never come as a surprise. Both partners should have an idea of where a relationship is headed before one makes a grand request of commitment.
“Hog?” a dark voice calls out to him, bringing him back to the present.
Mako looks up at Reaper and blushes as he realizes he’s zoned out and didn’t catch his instructions. “Sorry, I -”
“Thinking about him?” Reaper demands, his voice harsh and accusatory.
Mako panics and doesn’t know how to react at first until Soldier’s hand is on his own. The snout of the man’s pup mask presses against his mask’s cheek. “Maybe you should sit this out,” he suggests.
With a shake of his head, Mako tries to bring his focus to the scene at hand. Gabe and Jack had invited him over for dinner and then Reaper and Soldier invited him into their bedroom. It’s not the first time he’s come over but it’s also not the first time he’s become distracted during a scene. It’s embarrassing and he struggles to find his place again.
He and Soldier dawned harnesses and masks and stayed on all fours as they traveled throughout the house as Reaper’s pets, fulfilling his requests and demands. The last order he remembers is Reaper demanding they lick his boots. He’d been happy to do so but then it brought back memories of Jamison sitting in that high-backed chair in Mako’s dungeon watching him clean. Scrubbing his dungeon clean of bad memories and dust had been a rough but cathartic scene.
Reaper sighs and leans forward to stroke the floppy ears of Mako’s Bajie mask. “I know you’ve been coming here to forget,” he says.
Mako tenses up at being called out. He wants to argue that he’s here to be with them but he knows it’s a lie—and so does Reaper.
Soldier leans over and rests his head on Mako’s shoulder. “We like playing with you, Mako,” he begins and Mako winces at the return of his real name instead of the sub name he’d chosen to use with them, indicating the halt to the scene. “But…”
“But, despite refusing Jamison’s collar,” Reaper continues, “you still wear it in your heart and mind. Either commit to letting go or do something about it.”
Mako hangs his head. “M’sorry Gabe, Jack,” he apologizes, accepting that the scene is over. For him at least.
Jack sits back on his haunches. “Call him,” he suggests. “Either patch things up or get closure.”
Mako shakes his head. “I should have just accepted his collar,” he says with a frustrated sigh. “At least I wouldn’t be so confused.”
Gabe stomps his boot and Mako’s head snaps to attention. “If you felt pressured into a collaring you did the right thing by not accepting it. You’re not a stupid Damsel, Mako,” he growls out.
Mako winces at the term. Damsel in Distress, or DiD, can refer to a specific kind of kink but he’s also heard it used as a slur, in certain circles, against uneducated, “wannabe” subs who need a counselor more than they need a Dom(me).
Jack clears his throat and clarifies further, “You’re a sub, Mako, not a victim. You carry all of the control. If the scene was no longer safe, sane, or consensual, then you had every right to stop it. And demanding that level of commitment so soon, without either of you having discussed your relationship or future plans - that wasn’t sane.”
With a heavy sigh Mako nods. “You’re right. I’ll call him. Maybe I can at least get an closure.”
__
Mako busies himself with cleaning his house when he returns home. There’s too much pent up tension and anxiety inside him to allow him to sit still. When he’s finished, he talks a long hot shower in a bid to relax. It only works until it’s time to make his call and then his anxiety returns.
When late evening rolls around and he’s fairly sure it’s not too early in the morning for Jamison - he does at least 6 online searches to compare time zones- he pulls up his contacts and presses the call button. He doesn’t know if he wants Jamison to answer or not. In fact, why didn’t he just text him first? God Damnit. Unsurprisingly, there’s no answer so he hangs up, defeated. He tells himself it doesn’t necessarily mean rejection, at least not yet. But his phone vibrates from a text, pulling him away from his depressing train of thought. It’s from Jamison. With instructions to facetime him.
Confused and more than a little nervous but also relieved to have gotten a response, he does as he’s told and initiates the video call. It takes a moment to connect and there’s the smiling face of - not Jamison.
There’s a quite attractive older gentleman staring at him in fascination. Mako can’t help but think “muscle bear” when he sees the man’s shoulders - they’re huge! Mako opens his mouth to apologize for the wrong number when it slowly dawns on him. Jamison said he had a type and the man in the video chat shares an alarming amount of similarities with Mako although Mako’s pride is wounded a bit at how much more in shape the older man seems to be. Jamison must have moved on. “Message understood. Won’t bother him again. Sorry,” he says and his thumb hovers over the end button.
A thickly accented voice yells out for him to wait and Mako hesitates.
“My apologies,” the man says and smiles. “I was just surprised to see your name on his phone. I had to see who you were. Jamie only had pictures of you in masks to show.”
Mako has no idea what’s going on. “Are you not his - y’know?” he asks awkwardly.
There’s a great booming laugh. “No! I’m collared to my wife, Ana; Jamie’s Domme Mother,” he clarifies, leaving Mako with even more questions.
Jamison’s Domme Mother?
“Oi! Rein, what’re you doing with my phone?” It’s Jamison’s voice in the background.
“Talking to Mako,” the man referred to as Rein replies simply.
“Mako? My Mako?” Jamison asks with a yelp. “Give me the phone! Why’re you calling him? Ana said I’m not allowed to talk to him yet!”
Make bites his lip when he hears Jamison describe him as his. He doesn’t know if he wants to be Jamison’s. Okay, that's a lie; he does too know. He wants nothing more than to be Jamison’s boyfriend, sub, partner, everything. He just doesn’t know if it’s the right move. Once bitten, twice shy and all that.
“I didn’t call-he did. And I do not see your collar on him. I do not think you have the right to call him yours,” Rein says.
“Christ, Willhelm, thanks for bringing that up,” Jamison snarks before snatching the phone away.
When Mako sees Jamison’s face come onto screen he wants to cry. He’s missed him so much and their last interaction had left him hurting for weeks. Months if he’s honest—it still hurts.
Jamison’s eyes widen as he realizes it’s a video call but then he smiles despite the sadness in his eyes. “S’good to see ya, mate,” he says breathlessly.
Mako nods, the act of breathing suddenly difficult. This is a mistake. Maybe he isn’t ready to see Jamison again. He still feels so raw and breathing feels impossible as anxiety rushes through him.
“Mako?” Jamison asks in worry. “Hey, shhh, it’s okay. In through your nose, out through your mouth.”
Mako follows Jamison’s instructions as he repeats them over and over until his breathing returns to normal. “Sorry,” he wheezes. Even after all this time not only is Jamison willing to help him through a panic attack, he still knows how best to walk him through breathing exercises.
“Nothing to apologize for. Do ya need yer inhaler?”
Mako shakes his head no and stares at Jamison whose face is twisted up in concern. Video chatting is a bad idea, he decides. “I should go,” Mako says. “Shouldn’t have just called out of the blue.” He already feels like finding a mask to cover his conflicting reactions.
“Please don’t. I’ve missed ya,” Jamison admits. “A lot.”
Mako hesitates and wants to ask why he’d never called or reached out, but it feels too accusatory. “Thought you’d gotten a better sub,” he jokes instead.
Jamison blushes. “Who, that big oaf? No, my Domme Mum owns him. Did fancy him when I was training under Ana though. Think he sorta influenced my type in subs,” he chuckles before frowning. “Though, I wouldn’t say he’s better than you. You’re a blue ribbon pig, remember? A real prime specimen.”
Mako preens at the praise and his heart races at the hope of not being replaced yet. “Shouldn’t have waited so long to reach out but I was worried you were mad.”
“Mad? No. Confused and hurt? Yeah. Once I got back I kept having dreams where ya stopped me before I got on my flight home,” Jamison tells him. His gaze is just as intense as it was before and Mako flushes.
“Was too overwhelmed,” Mako responds lamely.
“I - “ Jamison takes a deep breath and it hitches with emotion. “I’m sorry. I panicked. Thought we were just gonna have a bit of fun but then I realized I didn’t want it to end.”
Mako touches his phone screen as if he could pet Jamison. It’s the explanation he’s been looking for. He reminds himself of Jack’s words - he’s a sub, not a victim. “Should have told me that,” Mako tells him. “Felt the same way. Spent half that week panicking over how I was supposed to let you go.”
“I did! What did ya think the collar meant?” Jamison snaps.
“The collar meant more than either of us were ready for,” Mako argues back. “We hadn’t even talked about how or if we were going to stay in contact after you left!”
“Was gonna!” Jamison pouts, deflating. “After ya accepted me collar,” he grumbles pathetically.
Mako knew his original assessment of the Dom had been right. Impatient as fuck. He snorts and rolls his eyes. “You asked me to be permanently collared to you after knowing me for a week. You didn’t even ask if I wanted a long-distance relationship.”
“Do you?” Jamison asks abruptly.
Mako shakes his head. “You made me realize I’ve been hiding myself. I can’t go back to denying my needs while you’re a million miles away.”
“Mako, please. Let me make it up to you. Was planning on giving you space - Mum’s orders - until I came back and then I was gonna track ya down and win you back. I’m coming back out to look for a place next month. One month and then I’m there permanently - me and the business. Told ya from the beginning I was gonna relocate if the market was there. Gimme a second chance. I’ll woo ya proper,” he insists.
Mako eyes him cautiously but inside his heart is doing somersaults. “Don’t wait,” he grunts. “Start by talking with me. You learned a lot about me, but I didn’t know much about you.” He had no idea Jamison had a mentor, for starters. “Let’s start there. Tell me about yourself. And about Ana and Rein - they sound important.”
The grin that splits across Jamison’s face is wide and happy. He wastes no time launching into an explanation, “Ana is my Domme Mum. Met her through work and she noticed I always ‘looked stressed’ and invited me to join her and her husband one evening. Showed up and the place was a BDSM club,” he cackles. “Was the weirdest night of my life.”
Mako snorts and moves to his bedroom so he can lie down and talk with Jamison. He has a feeling they’ll be on the phone together for quite some time.
__
Mako stands nervously at the airport gate, awaiting Jamison. He rubs his neck self-consciously and ensures the top snap closure of his leather jacket is done up. Without a mask and so many people around, he feels more comfortable being fully covered.
For the last month, he and Jamison call each other twice a day, once when one of them woke up and the other was getting ready for bed and vice versa. Through video chat, he met Ana (who is a delightful yet stern woman) and her submissive Wilhelm and learned about Jamison’s development as a Dom. He told Jamison about his time spent with Gabe and Jack and while Jamison was miffed for a bit, he reluctantly admitted he had no claim over Mako and that Mako exploring his newfound comfort with people in his own scene was important. Mako reassured him that nothing intimate will occur again and he’ll abstain from scenes with anyone else until he sees Jamison and gives them another shot.
Mako had been firm about starting over as friends while Jamison was still in Australia but things had quickly evolved again between them. It’s impossible for Mako to resist Jamison. Not when he dreams about those intense orange eyes every night and yearns to feel his Dom’s hands on him again. They made plans to go house hunting when Jamison returns but Mako knows they won’t find anything. He knows he’ll let Jamison stay with him until they decide to just live together. He doesn’t tell Jamison this but he knows he won’t be able to slow things down again when he sees him. And he’s okay with it. The time apart gave him room to sort out his feelings and wants. And what he wants is Jamison.
“Mako!”
He looks up in surprise at his name being called and a grin breaks across his stern face when he spots Jamison bouncing around in line, trying to squirm past the crowded line in front of him. As soon as he pushes though he makes a mad dash for Mako before leaping at him.
Mako catches the excited man and laughs as he holds him tightly. Jamison is busy peppering his face with kisses. “Fucking missed ya, Mako. So much.”
Normally such public displays of affection would make him nervous but he’s too wrapped up in feeling Jamison again. He engulfs Jamison into a firm squeeze. “Missed you too.” He feels like he’s finally home.
Jamison grins at him before squirming out of his arms to stand beside him. “Think ya got even sexier since I left,” he cackles, giving his rump a squeeze.
With a snort, Mako grabs Jamison’s groping hand and holds it tightly instead and they exit hand in hand.
When they pull up at Mako’s home an hour later, Jamison quiets down. Mako glances at him as he steps off his bike. “You’re not usually this quiet,” he points out. “That's my role.”
Jamison scratches the back of his head before glancing up at him sheepishly. “Just, made a bit of an arse of m’self last time I was here,” he replies.
Mako walks back and takes Jamison’s hand, feeling more confident in where they stand romantically than he did before. “It’ll be different this time. Better.”
“All things considered, I think that was the best week of my life. Dunno if I want it to be different,” Jamison says. “I liked playing house.”
Mako pulls Jamison close. “No more playing or pretending. I want you here for real. I want you as my Dom.” He can feel Jamison melt against him.
“True blue?” he asks hopefully.
“Just don’t get on bended knee as soon as we get inside,” Mako jokes.
“Oi! Low blow, Piggie!” Jamison squawks indignantly. Mako chuckles and leads Jamison inside.
His plan for letting Jamison nap after his long flight goes right out the window as Jamison is immediately on him once the door closes.
“Don’t gotta play, but I need you, Mako, please,” Jamison pants as he presses against Mako’s backside, his cock hard and digging into Mako’s wide ass. Jamison's hands slip around to grope Mako’s sides and belly with a groan. “Done nothing but masturbate every day to memories. Need the real thing.” When his hands slide up under Mako’s jacket his fingers find the band and straps of something familiar. He whimpers. “Christ, yer wearing the bra?”
“Wanted a do-over, right?” he chuckles before shedding his jacket and shirt and turning about to reveal not only the same intimate article of clothing from their first night together but the collar that had caused so much contention. The rose gold and pink accents of the piece of jewelry pairs well with his pink satin bra and the intense blush radiating from his chest to his face.
Frozen in place, Jamison stares. Mako shifts uncomfortably.
“Is that? I mean, ‘course it is. But, why are ya wearing it?” Jamison asks; his face screwed up in confusion.
Fuck. Mako suddenly understands how Jamison must have felt all those months ago and shame washes over him. He’d thought he could soothe any lingering hurt by making his own grand gesture.
“Hey, Piggie, breathe-” Jamison interrupts Mako’s panicked inner ramblings. “Didn’t mean it like that,” his Dom says soothingly. “Just… thought ya didn’t want it. Least, not yet. When did you change yer mind?”
Mako reaches for Jamison again and relaxes as the man holds him. “A week ago,” he admits. “After you said you loved me. Knew I was ready to commit to you then.”
Jamison wastes no time before burying his face in between Mako’s pecs with a happy groan. “Too good to me,” he says, kissing Mako’s chest and stroking the length of metal cord draped around his sub’s neck. “And here ya said I couldn’t make no big gestures,” he scoffs. “Then you go and pull this.”
“Wanted to let you know I was ready,” Mako says and pulls Jamison tight against him.
“Yeah? And what are ya ready for?” Jamison asks; his wolfish grin back.
“To let you in.”
Epilogue:
A year later finds Mako applying the final coats of varnish to his most recent work. It’s a large St. Andrews’ cross made of deep mahogany with copper restraints. He hears Jamison walk into the workshop and Mako smiles when a hand slides from his side to rest against his lower back, just above his ass as Jamison stands beside him.
“Just got off the phone with Amelie Lacroix; she placed two more orders,” Jamison says proudly. Amelie is a professional Dominatrix and their best customer outside of bondage clubs. Mako’s made all manner of pieces for her, from trunks to store her gear and doubles as spanking benches - useful for when she travels to a client - to a large bondage table with a wrought-iron cage bellow it.
Mako smiles down at Jamison - going into business with him is one of the best decisions Mako has made. Building high-end, custom kink and bondage furniture is his newfound passion. He finds it rewarding to help create permanent pieces for private dungeons especially. Not only does Mako not feel ashamed of his lifestyle anymore, he feels like he is encouraging others to embrace their own identities as well as contributing to the bdsm community as a whole. He’s grateful to Jamison since it is his Dom who first encouraged him to create furniture for their personal dungeon. Once their friends caught wind of it and saw Mako’s work, the orders began and through word of mouth, the new kink related orders outnumbered his traditional furniture orders. Jamison and Mako now travel the kink circuit together, promoting both Mako’s furniture and Jamison’s line of toys.
“May need to take on an apprentice if she keeps ordering as much as she does,” Mako jokes.
Jamison grins and replies, “Of all the problems to have, too much work is a good one for a new business. If you get overwhelmed though, maybe it’s time to let go of your vanilla projects and just focus on what makes you happy,” he suggests, reaching up to stroke Mako’s day collar reverently.
Mako takes Jamison’s hand and brings his fingers up to kiss. “You make me happy, Boss,” he says. He glances at the drying varnish and decides it could use a bit more time drying between coats. One of Jamison’s fingers slips between his thick lips and he sucks softly, drawing a moan from his Dom.
Jamison’s eyes flash in arousal; his wolfish grin sliding into place as he tugs Mako down into a deep kiss. “Love you too, Piggie.”