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Chapter Text

Alec wonders what made him think this would be a good idea. Facedown, wearing only his boxers and a tee, strapped to the bedposts with—granted—very comfortable leather cuffs, he's been waiting for his dom to do something for a while now.

Magnus—no, 'Sir', Alec reminds himself—surely only wants to test his patience. The sub isn't a newbie, after all. He has done scenes with his ex Sebastian. The reasons probably weren't the most healthy ones, his own boundaries-setting lacking at best. Sub frenzy, Magnus had called it. Alec had to agree when he later googled the term.

But he's not new to the BDSM scene. He's not a virgin, so to speak. What he isn't used to, though, is paying a professional to dom him.

It had taken a bit of self-conquest to come to the club alone and watch the show of the professional doms and subs, advertising their expertise. The other guests were respectful, the colour of Alec's wristband clearly signalling that he was here only to watch, not to play.

And watching he did. People of all backgrounds, sizes and shapes filled the stage for hours. But for a long while, no dom caught his eye. It wasn't that Alec had a clear idea of what he was looking for. But he knew if he saw it, he'd know.

The British dom with impressive eyebrows came on his list of maybes, so did the blonde dominatrix. Alec was looking for platonic BDSM, anyway, so why not a woman? But then, he entered the stage. Magnus. The man emanated calm dominance right from the start. He was incredibly beautiful, but that just as a side note. The dom was soft-spoken and always gentle with his sub. Maybe a strange choice of words, when you think about the things he did to him.

Alec had never tried spanking before. But, honestly, that was because he was afraid that his ex wouldn't respect him saying 'stop'.

In hindsight, this feeling should have been a warning signal. But Alec was too young, or maybe just naive when they fell in love as highschool sweethearts, and their dom/sub relationship developed organically, without much input from the BDSM scene. Alec learnt his lesson, though. And after playing with some strangers and a dom who quickly became his friend, but had his own sub to focus on, he decided to buy what he couldn't find—a safe person to submit to, to learn to trust, to push his boundaries, and learn new, healthy things from.

Because one day, he would meet the right person, someone he might have as a partner and his dom, maybe even be able to submit 24/7 to. It's what he truly wants. To come home and leave all responsibilities behind. He wants to be ready for that man. He just knows that he is out there. And when he would enter his life, Alec wants to be well prepared.

An appointment with Magnus was quickly arranged. The first meeting to get to know each other and to go through a BDSM contract was nice and relaxed. The older dom was patient and attentive, and he didn't push for reasons why anything sexual between them was off the table. He simply accepted it, just as Alec's wish to try as much of the yellow-marked stuff on the list.

They talked about Alec's desires, curiosities, and limits. The eager sub stated that he didn't have any triggers, and they settled on the traffic lights system for safewording. Alec couldn't wait for their first scene, couldn't imagine ever to safeword out of anything Magnus would order him to do.

And that's how he ended up here, his wrists and ankles fixed, with his dom watching him from somewhere in the shadows, patiently waiting. For what exactly? Alec doesn't know.

He has his eyes closed. Magnus had suggested not to blindfold him at first, until Alec trusted him enough to fully take his sense of sight from him. The sub would have done it right away, but Magnus was probably right. With all due respect to his tendencies to please, for some of the things they might do today, sight might not be the worst to have; if only to safeword out of it a second earlier.

Not that Alec has ever safeworded in his life. The reason probably 'see above'. More than once, he should have. He knows that now, knows what he craves, at least has a good idea of it. But it's so easy to get lost in his urge to please others. He can't do that in his job, though. Lives may depend on his decisions, so he has to be rational, can't hand out favours. But here, in this secure setting, he hopes he'll finally be able to let go and just be.

It feels like aeons until Sir gets up from the chair in the corner from where he was watching him. "Such a good boy," he praises him, and warmth spreads in Alec's chest. If it weren't for the good looks and tender manners, Magnus' voice alone would have been enough to lure him in. Every syllable is wrapped in warmth, his baritone like a gentle balm.

And the words? Alec isn't a kid anymore, but he wants to be Sir's good boy. Not in an infantilising way. He tried that. Not his kink. But the word makes him feel a little smaller, worthy to be taken care of. It's a nice feeling. Usually, he's the one to take care of others. He can already feel the pressure on his shoulders lifting.

Magnus runs a hand from Alec's ankle to the hollow of his knee, then trails it over his boxer shorts and his shirt-clad torso. It sends goosebumps over Alec's skin. The touch is feather-light, barely there. It's intimate, but not sexual, no matter how hot his dom might be.

The sub knows he's safe. Even if he lay on his back, Sir wouldn't touch his private parts. And if he should get aroused, they both will ignore it. Simple as that. He doesn't need to be ashamed if it might happen. No matter how his body reacts, it's okay.

"I could hear you thinking from all across the room," Magnus says and cards a gentle hand through Alec's hair. "It's hard for you to shut down, am I right?"

Alec relishes the soft brush for a moment, leans into the contact like a cat. God, he's so touch starved it hurts.

He nearly gets lost in it when a tug on his hair reminds him that he still owes his dom an answer. He nods.

There are only three simple rules for their first session today: the sub is only allowed to talk if an answer is more complicated than yes or no—unless for safewording, of course. He is expected to do what his dom tells him, and to accept what Sir gives him, may it be pleasure or pain.

So, he climbed onto the bed earlier, answered Sir's question with "On my front", stretched out his limbs, and let his dom sprawl him out over the bed like a starfish. Magnus retracted right afterwards to a place where the sub could sense his presence, but not see him properly. He felt Sir's eyes on him the whole time, though. It made Alec feel special, knowing that his full attention was solely on him.

But now, his dom is finally close. Alec doesn't know what made Sir choose this exact moment, but he feels calmer now than at the beginning. So, it was probably his muscle tone, or his breathing, or any other physical marker that he relaxed into the bonds. It doesn't matter. It's not his place to analyse his dom's decisions. But it's hard to let go. Sir read him right.

The sub opens his eyes for a moment and fixes them on his dom's. Only warmth lives in them. "You did so well, waiting for me," Magnus coos.

Alec's first reflex is to laugh it off. He was simply lying there, doing nothing. But Sir raises a questioning eyebrow, and the chuckle dies in Alec's mouth.

"You did so well, waiting for me," Magnus repeats, this time sternly. "We agreed on you taking what I'll give you, boy, may it be spanking or praise."

The sub nods and closes his eyes again. It's somehow easier to accept this truth when he only has to hear the words and not see the honest eyes accompanying them. Touch is also more intense when he doesn't see it coming, so…

Magnus puts a hand on the small of Alec's back while he takes something out of the drawer next to the bed. The constant contact feels good after being deprived of any sensation save the feeling of his restraints tugging on his limbs, the cool silk underneath, and the warm air surrounding him.

Both of Magnus' hands move over his shirt again, run over his back and shoulders, then the bare skin of his arms, down to his hands, and up again. It's a gentle touch. It's nice, relaxing. Not quite a massage, but calming, soothing out the last tendrils of tension in Alec's body.

The sub breathes a quiet sigh. It feels good. He could probably fall asleep like this. It would be an expensive nap, but who cares?

A smile tugs on Alec's lips, and he hears an approving hum from his dom. The emotion that clenches his heart for a second feels suspiciously like pride. He made Sir happy. 'It's silly,' he tells himself. But he can't help it. He's a sucker for it, so he better learn to accept it. That's what he is here for, after all.

Magnus runs his hands over Alec's body, connecting the upper with the lower by brushing over his sides. The sub squirms a little when Sir gives his feet attention. He is extremely ticklish there, and Magnus finds that out rather quickly. His touches become more teasing and prone to tickle.

Alec's breath hitches. Mentally, he had prepared for spanking, wax play, or other things that might hurt in one way or another. The torture of being tickled wasn't on his mind.

Magnus' fingers tease him, his feet, his sides, the sensitive skin of his neck. Alec wants to get away from the tickle, but the restraints keep him from moving away and firmly in place. A whimper vibrates out of him, and he gets an amused chuckle in return.

Despite the unease that the never-stopping fingers give him, being fully at Sir's mercy is glorious. Alec can prove to him that he can take anything the dom gives to him. And despite his body instinctively struggling against the bonds—or maybe rather because of it—Alec feels a myriad of positive things. Pride, determination, a thrilling sense of losing control. No. Of giving over control.

This is the last conscious thought that the sub manages before he bursts out into a fit of giggles. His mind goes blissfully blank when he hears Magnus' warm chuckle above him, mingling with his. There is only the submission to Sir's tickling fingers, the safeness of the bonds, and Alec gasping for air in between laughing and gentle hisses whenever the sensations cross the border to being torturous.

Later, when Magnus's hands are replaced by feathers, and Alec's breathing calms down again, his mind still stays thankfully quiet. There's no thought of work or family duties. No tension or exertion. It tickles differently than Sir's fingers, the tease quieter, but no less unsettling, no less challenging.

But that's what Alec came here for. To trust his dom, to give over control, to let the world fall away, and only have one task to fulfil—pleasing Sir. Yes. This was most definitely a good idea right from the start.

Chapter Text

It's been a shitty day. Alec didn't get out of the hospital on time because of an accident involving a bus, and all hands were needed in the ER. He didn't even manage to shower. He would arrive even later, and that's never a good idea. Alec hates tardiness, but even more so, he hates being late for people who are important to him. And his dom has become one of the chosen few over the last two months, since they have been scening together.

Magnus is the best dom Alec has ever had, hands down. He simply gets him, understands what the submissive needs. Maybe it's just experience, but Alec wants to believe that it's more than that, that Magnus sees him, completely. The dom's mere existence is a miracle after his former dominant.

In another life, Alec sometimes lets himself imagine, they could be friends, lovers even. Though he pushes the latter thought far, far to the back of his mind. A brilliant dom like Magnus surely would never take on a lousy sub like him. In the few weeks that they have been scening together, Alec has learnt more than in years of his BDSM relationship and the scenes that he had with doms in the club.

And his lack of experience is showing.

More than once, Magnus had to correct his stance in the simplest of positions, had to push him for communication, had to stop his well-laid plans because Alec wasn't properly trained, misunderstood commands, or resisted too much.

It's not that Sir would have been angry at him. He hasn't even punished him yet. It's something that Alec's ex had to do basically every single session they had. Maybe Magnus doesn't think he's strong enough for it, or he sees him as a lost cause, only humours him. Alec is a client, after all.

Nonetheless, the dom makes him feel good, helps him push his boundaries. Alec's achievements are likely way under Magnus' usual sub standards, but he praises him as if they were special, as if Alec were special to him. And the aftercare is always so nice. Sebastian only fed him, made him drink something, and—on good days—held him a little afterwards. Magnus, on the other hand…

Alec breathes heavily after the run from the subway station to the club where Magnus works. He's nearly on time, sweaty and exhausted, though. Magnus won't be amused by that. They have a deal that Alec needs to have a proper break between work and scening, must have eaten something. And even though it was never stated, Alec is pretty sure that sweat that wasn't achieved during a scene isn't really something that his dom would be very fond of.

"Room two," Maia greets him from the bar. "He's already waiting."

Alec screws up his face. He may be a customer, but as a sub, he's not really the king, is he? Tardiness alone would have been a reason to be slapped in his past relationship. He'd deserve it, of course. And no matter what punishment Sir decides to inflict on him, he'll take it. He just hopes that he won't cry like a baby. He may have ticked off 'humiliation' on the questionnaire, but he doesn't know if he could take that today. He would, of course, if Sir chooses to rain insults down on him.

Alec pushes the door from playroom number two open. He freezes right there in the doorframe. His dom is sitting across from him in a heavy leather armchair, dressed impressively as always, up from the ear cuff down to his shiny leather boots. He has this demeanour, the aura of dominance that Alec could feel and see the very first night when he watched him on stage. But Magnus' eyes aren't soft like then, no. They bore into Alec, make him shiver. They aren't unkind, but so intense that Alec feels the urge to sink to his knees right there and then.

And so he does.

Maybe it's the exhaustion after an unplanned double shift. Or it's the run that he would have never inflicted on himself under normal circumstances. Alec doesn't know. All he knows is that his knees hit the wooden floor with force, and the single sound of surprised distress from his dom makes him hang his head even lower in shame.

There are footsteps muffled by the carpet Sir would have him knee on usually, soft and plush as it is, and then, there is a sure hand in Alec's hair, tilting his head back. The sub still keeps his gaze down and tries to hold the perfect posture that his dom put so much time into properly teaching him.

He wants to apologise, but words elude him. He talked so much today, has ordered tests, given instructions for emergency treatments, calmed down relatives. None of the needed words got stuck in his throat then, but now? Now, his tongue lies useless on the bottom of his mouth, even incapable of licking his dry lips.

Tender hands cup his face, and gentle thumbs run over his cheeks. At least, the sub manages not to cry. Otherwise, he's pretty much useless. Shame crawls over Alec's skin. Maybe today, Sir will finally reach deep into his SM toolbox. He's been way too soft on him until now, as it seems.

"Oh, my sweet boy. You had a rough day, didn't you?" Sir says and squats down in front of him. Alec has to blink several times until the soft-spoken words fully register. He nods in lieu of an answer. "Have you eaten?"

Alec shakes his head. Now, it'll come. A disappointed look, the calling of names, a punishment for his disobedience. He deserves all of it. He's a bad sub, unable to deliver the things needed to make the way they play together safe for both of them. He's a burden, and no money in the world can remedy that.

"I'm sorry, Sir," he croaks with huge effort. He can't even remember when he last had a sip of water.

"We should remedy that, shouldn't we, darling?"

Alec's eyes fix on Magnus' boots. Sir is right. Punishment on an empty stomach is never a good idea. Alec remembers the one time when his punishment for saying 'no' to one of his boyfriend's orders had been to put a pile of rice he was kneeling on back into the package, grain by grain. It had taken him so long that he passed out. If it were possible, Alec would die of embarrassment and humiliation if Magnus saw him failing a simple task like that.

So, he nods.

The dom scrutinises him for a long moment, then fishes for his phone while brushing soothing circles on Alec's back.

After typing a short message, he asks, "Can you crawl for me, or are your knees hurting too much?" The sub gets on all fours. That he can do. Alec usually hates crawling. It reminds him too much of puppy play, which he doesn't find enjoyment in. But he's thankful that he isn't expected to get up. The knees hurt, but it's endurable.

He follows Magnus on his way back to the armchair and kneels between his spread legs as his dom motions him to do. Magnus guides his head to lean against his thigh. Alec doesn't know how long he's leaning there, simply resting, with Sir's hand carding through his hair. He doesn't deserve it, but who is he to question Sir's decision?

After a while, the door opens quietly, and someone enters, bringing a table with a spread of finger food and a carafe of water. It's Maia, probably, but Alec can't make himself open his eyes. It's shameful enough that he came unprepared, that his dom needs to take care of something he didn't manage himself in the time he was responsible for himself. In a scene, Alec likes to be pampered a little. But not without having accomplished something to deserve it.

A cool piece of seedless watermelon touches his lips. "Eat," comes the simple order from above, and Alec complies. He chews and swallows the first piece, then the second, then the third. "Be a good boy and clean my fingers," Sir says, and Alec licks the sweet juice off his dom's fingers. It's not as weird as he would have thought it to be. Feeding, he has never experienced from any dom. It seemed infantilising. But it doesn't feel so. Just like the glass of water that is gently pressed to his lips as if he were a baby, or too frail to do it himself. It's kinda nice. The care, the gentleness, the nourishment that doesn't only come from the calories and fluids.

He lets Magnus feed him with fruit and cheese, one hand always brushing through his hair, only a few words spoken when needed. It's comforting, does not only fill his stomach but also calms his racing mind.

"Thank you, Sir," he says when he has finished the offered food and has licked his dom's fingers clean once more. For the first time since he arrived, Alec dares to look up into Magnus' eyes. What he finds there is warmth and a sparkle that lets him know that his dom is smiling at him.

Alec feels a little light-headed. It's not always easy for him to reach subspace, but it feels as if he's on his way. But he can't let that happen. He needs to thank Sir properly. If he were any other dom, he'd just lean forward and offer a blow job. But that's off the list here. He knows that some platonic BDSM partners still do sexual stuff, but he wanted to prove to himself what he was good for, and in other things, too. And he's not so keen on sex anyway. Not for now, at least.

He furrows his brow in thought.

"What is it, sweet boy?" Sir asks him, and Alec blushes. How can he still call him that when he so clearly doesn't deserve it?

"I wanna thank you, Sir."

Magnus tilts his head and studies him. "But you already did. And it was my pleasure to feed you."

Alec ducks his head. A pleasure? More of an inconvenience, for sure. But Magnus is a gentle dom and a kind man. And maybe he doesn't mind indulging Alec in feeling cherished. The sub is too tired and dizzy to dissect the dom's reasonings. But he wants to make right where he wronged him through being late and, frankly, a mess.

Alec's eyes fall on Magnus' boots, and an idea blooms in his mind. He shuffles back a little, pulls his arms behind his back, and wraps one hand around his wrist before he lowers his face to his dom's feet. He turns his head to catch his eyes. Sir looks at him with amused interest, and the sub smiles for a moment before he pokes his tongue out, giving his dom a questioning look. Sir nods his assent, and just like he would have gone down on his cock, he worships the boot. He licks and kisses it, lets the tip of his tongue run over the seams and swirl over the studs.

Alec realises that these boots are custom-made. Magnus must be very successful in his job. Or maybe he has a permanent sub that's loaded, or another client that showers his dom with expensive presents.

Both thoughts sting. Of course, Alec knows that he's no one special for his dom, no matter how often Alec thinks of him between their appointments. Alec is just someone Magnus doms to pay the bills while having other subs that are well-trained and more satisfying than a platonic one like him.

Jealousy is an ugly emotion, and Alec pushes it down, lets the sour taste that it leaves on his tongue be replaced by leather and shoe polish, until every millimetre of the boots is wet and shiny, and a gentle tug on his hair eases him back into an upright kneeling position.

Sir runs a thumb over his lips and smiles at him. "You're so good to me, my beautiful boy," he says, and the awe in his voice that sounds so real settles warm in Alec's heart. Yes, maybe, sometimes, he can make things right.

Chapter Text

"Look at me," Sir orders softly, and Alec's eyes shoot open. When did he close them? Probably when his dom started telling him how beautiful his body is, about 20 seconds ago.

"There you are," Magnus coos. "Never hide those gorgeous Bambi eyes from me, unless you're kneeling and I don't tell you to do otherwise."

Alec nods. There's no rule not to speak today, but whenever Magnus says something nice about him, the sub simply goes mute. Alec isn't used to praise. He grew up with military parents, who were always distant, no matter if on overseas assignments or at home. They raised their kids in the military drill, hoping they would follow in their footsteps. His brother, Jace, does to this day. Izzy preferred civil medicine. Alec chose the middle path, attended the Uniformed Services University of the Health Sciences and served the necessary seven years afterwards. It prepared him well for the battlefield that the ER sometimes can be. It didn't prepare him at all for soft-spoken praise from his dom, however.

Magnus, fully clothed, hovers above his nearly naked sub where Alec is lying on the playroom's bed, trying his best to keep eye contact with his dom. Alec loves Magnus' eyes, chocolate brown and attentive. They seldom harden, only when he fucks up, which rarely happens nowadays. Magnus always chooses challenges that Alec can manage—seldom easily, but putting effort into them makes the rewards only sweeter.

Alec loves his Sir's challenges. But today's task is difficult. He has to let his dom worship his body without protest. To say that Alec has a rather difficult relationship with his body would be the understatement of the century. And his dom knows that.

Sure, he puts effort in it—training two to three days a week, enough sleep, etc. He knows he looks good in terms of physical appearance. That doesn't mean that he finds himself attractive. Sebastian kinda talked him out of it with lasting success.

How often did he hear degrading words about his hairy chest, the scars, the tattoos, his large frame? His partner had made fun of his hair—first that it was military short, then that it made him 'look like a girl'. But hey—Master decided what he needed to hear, right? When Alec finally realised how toxic the whole relationship was, his body image was already irrevocably smushed. Maybe that's why he has to pay a dom to play with him. Because Master had been right all along. Not many doms were interested in playing with a sub like him.

Izzy always says it's probably because he's so tall and often looks intimidating. But Alec has learnt to make himself small a long while ago. Too small, probably. Of course, his sister wouldn't know. He can talk with her about kinky stuff—she herself isn't into it, though, and so has never seen him in sub mode. She just wants to make sure that Alec will always be safe in the future. "I don't want to stitch you together, again, Alec," she had warned him with fear in her eyes after he had broken up with his boyfriend that fateful day, two years ago.

Magnus tugs on Alec's hair, pulling the sub's straying eyes back to his own. Alec blushes in shame. It was such an easy task, and he's already failing to please his dom.

Before Magnus can scold him, he quickly says, "I'm sorry, Sir."

The dom nods in acknowledgement. His fingers card through Alec's hair, and he continues his praise as if nothing had happened. "You're beautiful from head to toe, my sweet boy. Your hair is shiny and smells delicious." He presses a chaste kiss into the dark strands. Then he sits back on Alec's thighs. He runs his thumbs tenderly over Alec's eyebrows and lets his fingers trail over his jaw. "Your face is gorgeous. I love how sternly your eyebrows knit together whenever you're concentrating hard, and how every single line eases out when you're in subspace."

He ghosts his fingers over Alec's lips, and the sub swallows hard, yearning for the touch that never comes. The dom brushes a hand over his neck tattoo that he had gotten right after leaving the army. "One day, I'll let you paint all your tattoos for me and describe their history and meaning. They enhance your natural beauty."

Alec's breath hitches. Magnus has given him a few writing assignments in the past—notes about how he took good care of himself, a letter to explain what being submissive meant to him... Sharing his tattoos with Magnus feels special. His dom hasn't even seen every single one, yet. After weeks of scening together, Alec is convinced that he'll never ask for it. Although Alec hopes that he might be able to one day. They'll see. For now, Alec feels vulnerable enough in just his boxers.

Magnus circles his sub's shoulders and digs his fingers into the hard muscle strands. "These shoulders sometimes carry the world. They are so strong, and still, I can sense that they are a good place to lean on for family and friends."

Alec's mouth falls open. He's shared a few snippets about his private life here and there, but Magnus sounds so sure. Alec wants to protest, wants to say that he barely has time for his siblings, and that he has no real friends save his siblings' partners. But he clicks his teeth together and swallows his protest.

His dom smiles tenderly down at him. "Such a good boy. I know how hard that is for you." Magnus runs his hands over his sub's arms and takes his hands in his own. "Your hands are so strong, callused from years of combat training, and still, every day, they save lives, give comfort, and are tools to make people better," the dom says as he brushes his thumbs over Alec's knuckles. These words are easier to digest.

Tools.

That's what his body is. A tool to save lives, to give pleasure to others, a sum of organs and limbs to defend his country on the other side of the world. He's a tool, alright. No protest there.

"I'm sure that these hands are capable of giving others joy, of pleasing their needs and yours. I love how they look tied to the bed frame or behind your back, how perfect they grab a wrist when you hold a perfect posture." He laces their fingers together and pushes his hands over Alec's head.

"You have such tight control of your body, would never move your arms away from where I position them. Your bodily discipline is marvellous." Alec lets out a gargling sound. "Do you object to my words?" Magnus asks, raising an eyebrow. Alec shakes his head no, cheeks tinted crimson.

"Good boy. Repeat after me: 'I have a marvellous control over my body'."

Alec licks his lips, throat suddenly feeling desert dry. Magnus looks down at him, waiting patiently. After a few seconds pass by, he repeats the sentence softly.

"I… I have a m-marvellous control… over… over my body," Alec gets out. It's a struggle. He can't say things like that about himself. It's plain wrong. Just last week, he nearly fell when Magnus had bound his legs with intricate knots and asked him to hop over to a column where he wanted to bind him to.

But Sir smiles at him proudly. "That's right. You're such a good boy."

Despite his doubts, pride spreads in Alec's chest, and he breathes out raggedly. Magnus brushes his hands over his chest. One stops over the sub's heart, the other at his side. "You have such a big heart, Alexander. It beats strongly for the people you love and care about. It survived so many heartaches, and still is so open."

Alec can't help it and snorts a laugh. His dom twists and pinches his nipples in response. Alec hisses and bites his lip until the pain fades out. He deserves the punishment. What was he thinking?

"I won't tolerate disrespect, boy! Your heart let me in. Trusted me. And I value this trust as the beautiful gift that it is. Understood?"

Alec nods, eyes turned down. "Yes, Sir. I'm sorry, Sir." The apology isn't a reflex like it might have been back in the army, sometimes. Alec feels truly sorry. He doesn't want to disrespect his dom. He knows that Sir only wants to help him, to change his perspective on himself, make him reconnect to his body. But it's damn hard!

"Repeat after me: 'I have an open heart'."

Alec bites the inside of his cheek. "Sir?" he all but whimpers.

Magnus brushes his hands soothingly over his sides. "It's okay, darling. Take your time. You can do it."

Alec closes his eyes for a moment. This time, his dom lets him. Centring is often easier that way. Alec doesn't even know why it is so hard. This isn't about his physical body, has nothing to do with a functioning carotid artery or his ventricles. It's not about Western beauty standards, or the fact that his ex only found him beautiful when he begged. Maybe not even him, but only the begging itself.

Magnus wants him to state that he is good beyond pleasing his dom, beyond his job, beyond the things that he does verifiably right. He wants him to say out loud that his very being is good, and beautiful, and kind. That the wrinkles between his eyebrows and around his lips from years of barely smiling don't count, that the cheap tattoos on his skin are valuable despite not being the best quality, that he hasn't lost his heart out on patrol. That he is still human and deserving of love.

This and so much more is crammed into these five little words. And it's so damn hard. Alec is embarrassed by how hard it is, by the way he can't just rattle it out. Because that would be disrespectful, too.

Sir's hands are brushing soothing circles into his skin now, and Alec opens his eyes again. His dom nods at him encouragingly.

Alec takes a deep breath. "I have an open heart," he says, very quietly, very slowly. But his reward comes immediately in the form of a wide smile and sparkling eyes.

"That, you have, darling. You're doing so well. Such a brave boy."

Tears prick Alec's eyes, but he manages to hold them in. Even when Sir praises the rest of his body, physical and metaphysical alike. Magnus doesn't stop until he reaches his feet. He praises their sturdiness and how quiet they can walk before he writes different praises on each part of his sub's body with a special pen, black ink stating the way Alec's body is worthy of praise in his dom's eyes.

Magnus takes pictures with Alec's phone, a reminder for when his sub has to erase them before work the next day.

At home, Alec watches himself in the mirror for a long while. He decides to wash them all away in the morning. All but the one sentence written in beautiful letters directly over his belly button.

I am Sir's good boy, and Sir only owns beautiful things.

Chapter Text

The sun falls softly through the curtains, spreading orange light over their golden sheets. Alec feels warm and safe in Magnus' arms. His collar presses deliciously into his neck, just tight enough to remember that he's owned by the most wonderful dom in the world.

He wonders what it looks like. Magnus surely chose a gorgeous one, probably ordered a bespoke collar, even. He should remember what it looked like, shouldn't he? If he agreed to Magnus putting this visible claim on him, then he should have a recollection of it, right?

Alec can't remember what they played last night, either. It's all a bit fuzzy around the edges. But he feels calm. Still, the memory of something important nags at the back of his mind.

The unfamiliar weight of something on his ring finger calls his attention. He watches his hand lying loosely on Magnus' chest. A silver wedding band glimmers as the sunbeams hit the noble metal. Alec smiles at it, his cheek still pressed against Magnus' chest.

His eyes move slowly, scanning the room. Their black tuxedos are sitting carefully folded and hung over a chair. Alec should remember who put them there, right under their white and golden ones hanging at the wardrobe, neatly put there when they changed after the church ceremony earlier in the day.

But his memory is a little fuzzy about that, too. There should have been a white and a black wedding, a dream he harboured ever since Sebastian first marked him as his own. But Alec doesn't want to think of his ex. It's his first morning as a married man and fully claimed sub. He should relish in all the beautiful memories of the day before, should recollect every single smile Magnus graced him with. But again—nothing.

A hangover, maybe? But Alec would never drink before scening, and why wouldn't they at least play a little after their wedding and the collaring ceremony?

Nothing here makes sense. It's nice, though. He has the heartbeat of the most beautiful man, the softest dom, the love of his life, under his ear, the man's arms slung around him tightly even in his sleep. It feels wonderful.

What does it matter that he doesn't remember himself kneeling in front of Magnus and their community, can't latch onto the memory of him fastening the collar around his neck, looking proudly down at Alec, cupping his cheeks with both hands, and sealing their love and their promises with a claiming kiss.

There surely will be photographs and videos, and Magnus teasing him about his forgetfulness. Izzy will probably not shut up about how gorgeous he looked there on his knees, and how much Magnus' eyes spoke about his adoration for his submission.

Maybe Jace was there too? And Clary, Simon even?

There will be people filling in the blanks, or his memories will come back when he finally manages to peel his heavy limbs from the body of his dom and prepare breakfast as it beseems his new position as a live-in 24/7 submissive. He can't remember negotiating this either, but they must have done so. Magnus wouldn't just marry him without Alec signing his life over to him, making him his slave.

That word doesn't sit right with Alec, though. He's Sir's good boy. Sir wrote it on his stomach just yesterday.

He wants to roll on his back, wants to see if the writing is still there, but he can't. Every muscle in his body is resisting his command. The strong shoulders that Sir praised aren't moving, his beringed hand doesn't even so much as flinch.

Dread spreads in Alec's chest. Something is wrong. Very, very wrong. He can't move. He tries to alarm Magnus, but his tongue lies useless in his mouth. He can't even make the signs that Magnus let him learn and practised with him until they became second nature. Some are simple commands on Magnus' part, but some, he created for Alec specifically, for whenever his words got stuck in his throat. Magnus didn't want to punish him for disobedience just because he couldn't answer. They've been working on communication, too, but it's a good crutch until he gets there.

But all of this doesn't help him now. He's paralysed. Alec tries to take a calming breath, but his chest is so tight. Is he having a heart attack? He's too young to die. He just married, for heaven's sake!

A hand moves to his head and cards soothingly through his hair. Alec calms down a little. Magnus will see that something's wrong and will call an ambulance. It's gonna be okay. The hospital isn't far, and his colleagues won't let him die.

His brain supplies him with a list of diagnoses that might lead to sudden paralysation and memory loss. He pushes the once more rising panic down. Maybe it's good that he can't talk now. He would drive everyone trying to help him crazy.

The hand that was gentle and calming just a second ago suddenly grabs his hair tightly and wrenches his head up. Alec is a dead weight, can neither resist nor get away from the pain. He screws his eyes closed. Sure, Magnus sometimes hurts him for punishment, but he isn't a sadist. Pain is always an answer to a misstep, nothing he inflicts just for fun.

Alec's head dangles from the callused hand, and only now he realises that something is missing. Something important, something that is so intrinsic to Magnus that Alec could hit himself that he didn't realise it earlier. But even before he can open his eyes to confirm what he already knows, he hears a voice. It's still so familiar—sweet as sugar, but he knows it's all fake.

"Did you miss me, slut?"

Alec wakes up and jumps out of the bed, heart racing, sweat soaking his shirt. He gasps for air. It takes him several minutes to breathe normally to some extent, but he can't shake the feeling of wrongness. His head is a mess that even a cold shower can't remedy. It was only a dream. He'll never see Sebastian again. He's blacklisted in the only club that Alec visits, he lives in another part of New York, they have no common friends, no other points of contact. He hasn't seen him in two years. Alec moved, he changed his number and his place of work. It was just a dream.

A dream that started so surreal and beautiful. But Alec can't relish the fantasy, can't even dissect what it tells about him that he imagines marriage and collaring with the dom, who didn't give him any indication that he might want more or something different than a professional relationship. Yes, sometimes they share a drink at the bar after scening when Magnus doesn't have a client after him. It happens more often now, and Alec enjoys their talks. Magnus is smart and funny, makes Alec laugh so hard sometimes that it hurts. But Magnus made it pretty clear that he never meets clients outside the club, not even for a screening of 'The Secretary' in one of those nostalgic cinemas.

But that's okay. Alec isn't ready for a relationship. Who would want to be with a man like him anyway? One whose ex is still living rent-free in his head, even after two damn years of therapy, and starting to scene again about seven months ago.

He should be over it. Should have him living as a ghost of his past. But that bastard was probably right.

"You'll never find another man willing to put up with your shit on a daily basis, and to breed you like the little bitch you are."

"Fuck off!" Alec shouts and empties his bathroom counter with a single strike, bottles flying through the room. The after-shave bottle shatters on the tiles into a million pieces. The strong smell envelops Alec, makes him nauseated but also clears his head for the first time since waking up from the nightmare.

Alec leaves the bathroom and grabs his phone off the counter, dialling quickly before he can change his mind.

"Hey. Sorry that I call so early."

There is ruffling on the other side of the line, and with a wince, Alec realises how early it truly is.

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to wake you."

"No problem, Alec. You know you can always call me. I just don't want to rouse Lorenzo, that's all," his friend and previous dom answers whispering. "Did you have a nightmare again?"

Of course, Andrew knows why he's calling at this ungodly hour. "Yeah."

"I'm sorry, Alec. Do you want me to come over?"

Alec taps nervously his fingers on the kitchen counter. "No, could you just talk me through it again?"

A soft chuckle comes over the phone. "Sure. Did you have breakfast?"

"No."

"Then eat and drink something. Take your cushion and collar." He pauses for a moment, probably assessing Alec's distress level. "Pick up a rope. Then skype me. I'll go into the library and wait for your call."

Alec stares at the black, flat box in his hands. He brushes the dust off the top. He hasn't taken it down since he started scening with Magnus. He hasn't needed it.

It somehow feels like cheating. It's stupid, of course. No matter what his dream might have put into his mind, Magnus isn't his partner, neither in a romantic nor in a dom/sub context. He is his dom, yes. But that's it. He books his time and gets Magnus' full attention for whatever Alec can effort to pay. If he ever put a collar around his neck, then, it would serve play purposes only, and it would be one of the club's, not something to keep and pull belonging from.

Andrew had suggested self-collaring after Alec, too drunk to keep his usual discipline around his heart, had word-vomited the whole Sebastian debacle. Andrew said he should reclaim himself, put himself, his healing, his desires first. It felt wrong, like an admission of defeat.

Sebastian had put a collaring ceremony in front of Alec's nose like a carrot before a donkey. If he did better, if he tried harder, if he wouldn't embarrass him anymore. Then—and only then—he would collar him. And Alec did his best, tried to please his dom. He still wears the scars to prove it.

He didn't miss the narrowing of Magnus' eyes when he saw him shirtless for the first time. The dom never asked, though. But maybe that's why he decided to put his own marks on him. In a way, Alec wishes they would have been permanent, just like the ones that Sebastian left on his skin. But he still has the photos on his phone. They must suffice.

He takes a deep breath and opens the box. He looks at the leather collar. It's a pretty bland one. It fits the owner. Andrew wanted him to buy something pretty, something that would make him feel good when he saw himself in the mirror with it or during one of their video calls. But that would mean that he deserved something pretty, and Alec wasn't in the right mindset to allow himself more than the absolute basics.

He takes the collar out of the box and fastens it around his neck. As always, his stomach ties itself into knots as he does. It feels forbidden, like a breach of taboo. But Andrew told him to do so. It's an order, even though they won't really scene. It's just like a guided meditation to settle the unease in Alec's chest. So he sets up his tablet as he has done so often in the past year and kneels on his cushion.

"Hello, baby boy," Andrew greets him.

"Hello, Chief." A small smile tugs on the corners of Alec's lips. He knows, soon he'll be able to let this go.

"Do you have your safety scissors?"

Alec nods. He would never let a rope near him without a pair of bandage scissors within reach of his hands. Not anymore.

"Good. Make a chest harness."

The order is simple, and Alec knows the drill. He could have done this without bothering Andrew. But with his permission, his order, it's somehow easier to pull himself back together with the help of a rope.

"You look beautiful, baby boy," Andrew praises when Alec is done.

Warmth spreads in Alec's chest. "Thank you, Chief."

Andrew smiles over the screen. "You're doing so well."

From then on, it's the usual routine of praise, of working through the nightmare and erasing the phantom sensation of Sebastian's hand in his hair by guiding Alec to run his hands through it until the feeling dissipates. In the end, Alec smiles at his friend. "Thank you, Andrew."

The other man smiles back at him, but there's sadness and concern in his eyes. "Maybe you should talk with Magnus about this. His help might be more effective than mine."

Alec huffs a mirthless laugh. "I don't want to bother him."

"You don't want him to think you're weak," Andrew states matter-of-factly.

Alec bites the inside of his lip. "He's the first dom who doesn't see me as broken. I'd like to keep it that way."

Andrew sighs. "It's nothing to be ashamed of, Alec. And Magnus offers therapy spanking. You know that, right?"

Yes, Alec has seen that in the list of services Magnus offers. "Everything he does is therapeutic for me," Alec states.

"That might be right, but with the right intention and framing, you might get much more out of it."

Alec nods. "I'll think about it."

Andrew's smile rises to his eyes. "Good. Are we still up for poker on Friday?"

"Yes, Chief!" Alec smirks.

"Brat!" Andrew chuckles and pokes his tongue out. "Don't forget to be good to yourself," he adds. Alec knows exactly what he's alluding to.

Chapter Text

Alec runs his fingers over the soft satin and lace. He swallows hard. He knows that Andrew expects one photo a day for the full next week. Sure, he could just slip into one of his beautiful panties, take a quick pic with them peeking out of his jeans, and then change into his usual cotton briefs. But lying to Andrew doesn't feel right, and—much more important—he knows that wearing them will make him feel much better.

Andrew isn't into humiliation. He's a soft dom, guiding with praise and rewards, trying his best to make his sub feel good. That doesn't mean that he's a softie, though. Alec has seen him spanking Lorenzo once. He's not keen to experience the same.

Seeing the strong man from Spain reduced to a sobbing puddle was hard. But it was a lecture for both Andrew's sub and Alec. Because after everything was over, Andrew held his beloved pet in his arms, brushed the tears away, and lavished care on him, showered him with love and affection. Watching, Alec's heart had ached with longing. Aftercare had been a new concept for him at that point.

Alec has no idea how he survived all these years with Sebastian. Their regular physical separation surely played a role in how long they stayed together. Still, whenever Alec thinks about it, shame fills him to the brim. His therapist said that he was so strong to leave his boyfriend, but Alec knows that it was simply his fear not to survive that made him leave. But not for himself, no. He didn't want his sister to find him strangled in his bed or worse.

The first time Alec attended a munch,* filled with dread and a stomach tied in knots, it was Lorenzo who spotted him. He settled on the chair next to him, his partner Andrew joining them. Alec had told them that it was his first time, and even before the introduction round, they were already beyond the small talk stage. Andrew's gentle nature and Lorenzo's sharp humour helped Alec to relax a little, and at the end of the meeting, they exchanged numbers to stay in touch.

A few messages and another meeting later, Andrew agreed to scene with him. Just bondage. No sex, no impact or knife play. Alec wasn't ready to share why he ruled all these things out. In all honesty, he didn't expect the scene to be anything interesting or effective. Boy, was he wrong.

Andrew had bound him, not with cuffs, but rope. It may have been the first time in Alec's life that he reached proper subspace. It was as if Andrew pulled him together, and Alec could let go fully for once, knowing that he was held in more than one way. It was glorious, and the feeling of pleasing his ex had been a mere shadow compared to the pride spreading from Alec's core to every cell in his body as Andrew showered him with praise, called him sweet names, and took him under in the most beautiful ways.

When Alec left the playroom quite some time after, Lorenzo had welcomed him back with a knowing smile. "You're a lucky man," Alec said, and the other sub simply answered, "I know."

That was the start of a great friendship between the three of them. Alec admired Lorenzo's generosity to allow Andrew to scene with him. Even now, it still surprises Alec. Especially, as he catches himself being jealous every time it is clear that Magnus has another client booked after him. He's only paying him, for heaven's sake! He has no monopoly on the man. And Lorenzo allowed his dom and boyfriend to play with Alec. Platonically, but still, the trust the two men shared was impressive.

Alec breathes a sigh and runs his eyes over the small selection of panties that Lorenzo helped him choose. It was on Andrew's insistence after the collar purchase. Choosing such a plain one may have been the only thing Andrew was unhappy about with Alec. He may not have been his constant dom, but he already knew how little Alec thought of himself. He would have never bought the midnight blue satin shorts, or the black lacy ones with bows if he had gone shopping on his own.

He loves all of them, though. And it became a ritual after a nightmare—a week of wearing them for himself, a way to claim his autonomy and his own worth.

First, he had been worried about anyone finding out, but the tee pushed into his scrubs pants were enough to hide them safely. And what Andrew had intended worked. In calm moments, Alec could close his eyes and relish the feeling of soft luxury surrounding his butt, a nice contrast to the rigidity of his scrubs. His little secret gave him a quiet sense of confidence, made him feel good about himself, his body, the things he had achieved since he tumbled out of their joint apartment and into an uncertain future all on his own.

It didn't matter that he was the only one in the known. No one needed to see him in his panties, had to call him pretty or handsome to raise his mood. The lush fabric gave him everything he craved. Still, after a week, he always stopped wearing them. He couldn't permit himself more of that. It was decadent after all, and he was simply Alec.

But today, it won't be just Andrew getting a wee glimpse of it. Today is his weekly scene with Magnus, and choosing panties for his dom to see feels daunting. What if he laughs about him? What if he calls him effeminate names? Alec never liked that. Sebastian was a huge fan of calling him 'princess' when he dolled up for him.

'Fuck him!' Alec thinks. This is the only kink he ever discovered himself, and he won't let this bastard taint it more than two years after they last met.

Magnus is different. He asks for consent, he keeps to their contract, and not once has he stepped over a boundary or ignored his wishes. They still have to reach a point where Alec needs to use his safeword. Alec hopes he'll never have to. It's a powerful tool, and he doesn't know if he's capable of using it. He knows that Magnus trusts him to do it, though. Alec isn't sure what would be the bigger risk to disappoint him—safewording out or going over his boundaries in an unhealthy attempt to be good for his dom. Probably the latter. But how would he know? The only one ever ignoring his needs was Sebastian, and with him, a safeword wasn't even a thing.

Alec shakes his head clear of these thoughts and grabs his favourite pair. He thinks his ass looks good in them, and even though sex is off the table, he somehow hopes that Magnus will be pleased by the sight of his rear. He's bi, after all. Not that he would ever reciprocate Alec's slowly growing feelings for him. It's all smoke and mirrors after all, even though it feels so damn real. But that's simply the brilliance of Magnus, shows how good he is at his job.

When his dom orders him to strip, Alec's heart still leaps in his chest. The moment of truth. At least, it feels like one.

He removes his shirt and folds it carefully the way Magnus taught him. Not that the army wouldn't have done a good job in doing so. Or his mom. But there was something about the way Magnus turned the whole thing upside down and forced him to approach this simple task differently, to mould himself to his dom's expectations even in such mundane things like this.

A proud smile tugs on Alec's lips as the shirt ends up in a perfect bundle. He gets into the submissive mindset quicker and quicker, every time he returns, the transition nearly seamless by now.

Then, he opens his jeans, and the feel of smoothness under his fingertips reminds him of what is different today. He swallows hard, then chances a careful glance at his dom, who is sitting leant back in an armchair, sipping on a mocktail as he watches him undress.

Magnus' eyes grow wide for a split second when the jeans hit the floor. He's not quite smiling, but every single crease in his face smoothes out, makes him look at least ten years younger, if not more.

Alec lowers his gaze and takes care of his pants, folds them in the most ridiculous way, happy to please his dom with it. He folds his socks, too, then kneels in the standard pose that Magnus taught him in detail—sitting on his heels, legs pressed together, hands on his thighs, back straight, and head lowered in obedience.

The rustling of Magnus' clothes makes his heartbeat speed up. Here comes the inspection, the first trial. And he feels as vulnerable as the first time he kneeled before Magnus, unknowing of what might happen. It's one thing to force his body into submission, to control every muscle to get and stay in perfect pose. It's a completely different ballgame to do this in panties that usually make him feel good but that might be judged by a man he wants to please.

Magnus doesn't nudge on him as he usually does, doesn't round him. He simply stands there, shoes just out of reach for Alec's eyes to see. It takes a torturously long time until Alec hears his voice, tension building until he fears to start shaking.

"Present," is the simple order, and Alec sighs in relief. This word used to mean something else with Seb. Something that often led to painful sex or orgasm denial finished off with a cold pack on his cock and no release. Andrew had called his ex a weak dominant when he told him about it, one that punished good behaviour and what he deemed bad alike. A narcissistic sadist, unworthy of Alec's beautiful submission.

But Alec doesn't even think about this anymore. Presenting for Magnus is nice. Difficult, but nice. He pushes his knees open as wide as he can, giving his dom a better look at the midnight blue satin. He laces his hands over the back of his head and moves his elbows to the side. It opens up his chest and allows him to keep his head up and look at his dom. How such a simple change can shift his emotions from uncertainty to pride, Alec will never understand—but it does.

Magnus runs his eyes over his front, taking him in fully, his gaze travelling over his bare skin just as reverently as over his panties. Then he starts his walk around his proudly kneeling sub. And Alec doesn't fear anymore. Magnus' smile was so soft and pleased. He likes him in panties, at least in these.

"So pretty," Magnus purrs into his ear. "What made you dress up today?"

Alec feels as if he swallowed his tongue. Magnus isn't insinuating that he did it for him. Should he lie and say it was for his dom's pleasure? Or should he stay truthful? It's not as if Magnus could read his mind and punish him for lying in this instance.

But this is about trust, right? And trust is based on honesty. But he wants to please Sir as well. Alec wishes he could just shut up his brain right from the start like other—better—subs can. He always needs Magnus' guidance for that. He hopes his dom won't be fed up one day and simply cancel their contract to spend his time with a better behaving, easier learning, already well-trained sub.

"I'm—" Alec trails off. He hates getting emotional at the best of times, but right now, it feels like a complete overreaction. Magnus asked him a simple question, waiting patiently as if he was a little child. Alec doubts that Magnus enjoys his subs being in a littlespace mindset. Not that this would be Alec's thing anyway, even though he has seen adult littles with their caretakers in the club. They looked so happy together. Alec envied the adult babies a little. Not for the nappies, but the freedom not to think at all.

But he needs to answer Sir's question, and before he can talk himself out of it, he says, "I needed to feel worthy, and wearing panties helps me with that." He's staring ahead into space as he confesses more than the simple truths on the surface. His chest rises and falls quickly, the position suddenly contradicting what he truly feels.

Magnus runs his fingers over his scalp. "I'm so proud of you that you put them on. Self-care is important. Thank you for sharing this with me."

Alec can't suppress the sarcastic laughter bubbling up his throat. His dom is proud of him for putting on panties after having a fucking nightmare about his ex and inappropriate hopes shown by his subconscious.

Magnus clicks his tongue, and Alec tightens his jaws. His dom hates when he questions the substance of his words. Magnus grabs his chin tightly and forces Alec to meet his eyes. "I think I have to shut up this sweet little mouth of yours, don't I?"

Alec can't help but answer, "Yes, Sir."

Chapter Text

"Yes, Sir, what?" Magnus asks sternly.

Alec swallows hard, his throat suddenly parchment dry. "Please, Sir, help me not to speak out of turn."

Magnus beholds him for a long moment, the warmth of his eyes calming Alec's anxiety a little. He used to be such a good sub, in his humble opinion. He did everything Sebastian asked of him, let him do anything to him, mostly without talking back. But with Magnus, keeping his stupid mouth shut and his reactions under control is so difficult.

Maybe because he isn't afraid of him. He has respect, of course, but he never has to worry about ending up as an ashtray, or that he has to put his medical knowledge to use to remedy the consequences of a lash out. Sir is mostly soft-spoken, praises him more than Alec thinks he deserves.

And that's likely the problem. He could accept it when Seb called him a stupid slut when he didn't manage to get his cock out of this pants with his hands bound behind his back. But praise for kneeling right? That feels unearned and inappropriate.

Lorenzo had already tried to make him understand that submission means accepting praise and not questioning a good dom's appraisal, that Alec's second-guessing and internal monologues were counterproductive, that he was fighting himself, and with it, the dom who cared for him.

"I'll help you, my darling boy," Magnus says and runs a thumb over Alec's cheek. The sub doesn't think he deserves it, but he already ruined the start of the scene, so better not argue about that. Not that he would. Magnus touching him is the highlight of his week. Deserved or not—he craves it.

Magnus walks to a drawer and pulls out several things. Alec can't see what they are, facing in the other direction as he is, but soon enough, Magnus coaxes his mouth open and fastens the buckle of the gag on the back of his head. It is a breathable ball gag. Alec knows it's for beginners, and he feels a little ashamed that Sir doesn't think he is capable of taking something else. But he guesses that he disappointed him one too many times with his bad behaviour.

Tears prick his damn eyes. He used to be so good at not crying. But Andrew ruined him with his stupid ropes and sweet words. And now, he can't be a proper sub for the one dom that counts, the one he would go through fire and water for.

He manages to keep them in, though, a small victory. Magnus kneels behind him and shuffles forward, the embellishments of his tunic pressing into Alec's bare back. It's strangely grounding. Magnus puts something into Alec's hand. "Click that for me, darling." Alec complies. "Good. That's for safewording. One click for 'slow down', two for 'stop', alright?"

Alec nods and hums in confirmation, sending a first thin stream of saliva down his chin. He will look disgusting when their session is over. He just knows. He has an overactive saliva production by nature. Magnus will see how ugly he truly is.

"I'll bind you, to help you contain yourself," Magnus explains and chuckles when Alec brings his wrists together and up immediately. "So eager. I love the way you respond to rope."

Alec tries to smile, but all he manages is another stream of saliva. If he would just have let Sir praise him. He doesn't want to be disrespectful. But it happens, again and again. It's frustrating. And if it's like that for him, how much worse must it be for his dom?

And still, instead of cuffing him to the bed or against the St Andrew's cross and work him over with a riding crop, Magnus does what he knows his sub likes—shibari. Does he think of Alec as a delicate flower due to the hard limits he set? He didn't put any impact play on that list, and yet, Magnus hasn't even spanked him. It doesn't make any sense.

Alec has overbalanced more than once in position training, couldn't hold a plank any longer even though Magnus wanted him to. Has he given up on him? Is he only a service top by now, accepting that Alec will never be a proper submissive?

When Alec emerges from his thoughts, Magnus has his wrists already safely bound in front of him and leads them to the nape of his neck. Magnus' movements are always so sure, gentle touches reminding the sub to let his body be guided, not to move by himself.

That had been a struggle at first. Even after a few scenes with Andrew, Alec still wasn't used to this. Rope was there to fixate him in one way or another, not to guide him. It was a separation, not a connection as it is now, and muscle memory is a stubborn thing.

"You're doing so well, my sweet boy," Magnus says when he's finished binding Alec's chest. This time, Alec suppresses the chuckle that threatens to burst out of him. He can be good for Sir. He truly wants to.

Magnus pulls a beanbag close and replaces his warm body with it. A muffled sound of displeasure gargles out of Alec's mouth. The dom just chuckles. "I will bind your legs to emphasise the beauty of your panties. I have the perfect ropes for you. They do not only fit your pretty underwear, but also your very being."

Alec opens his eyes. The way he is leant back with his hands pulling him to the beanbag chair, he first doesn't see the ropes in Magnus' hands. But then he does, and he can't help protesting again. He's not innocent, and he knows he isn't pretty right now either, with a wet chin and probably red-rimmed eyes. How can his dom think that this colour suits him?

"Shush, angel. You deserve the prettiest ropes. And white will stand out beautifully against the midnight blue and the light olive of your skin."

Magnus moves his body until the small of Alec's back is surrounded by air. The sub concentrates on his breathing which isn't easy in this position. He catches a smirk on Magnus' lips. He knows exactly what he's doing to him. Of course, he is. He knows fine well how to pull Alec out of his head. The sub would chuckle if he had enough space in his chest for it.

Instead, Alec tries to breathe steadily and relishes the feeling of rope and fingers running over his stomach, of hands moving him this or that way. His eyes are closed again, the touches all the more intense for it. Magnus has to move his dick to avoid wedging it with the rope. He asks Alec beforehand. Alec smiles around the ball in his mouth. His dom is so considerate. He's efficient, too. It reminds him of his own work. Touches, even in intimate areas, are never sexual. But Magnus' don't feel clinical either.

Alec shakes his head to chase the thoughts away. He doesn't want to think, isn't meant to.

"Are you okay, darling?" Magnus' voice feels so near.

Alec says, "I'm fine," but it comes out as a muffle. Magnus seems to understand him anyway as he resumes working on whatever rope art he's painting on Alec's hips. He spends time braiding things, and the cool feeling in some places of Alec's skin makes him realise that Magnus uses rings in addition to the ropes.

Magnus works around his bottom, between his legs, over his thighs. He presses Alec whichever way he needs him to reach around. Every position change is a challenge. But Alec is floating. Everything grows fuzzy and soft. His body seems to know the drill—how to breathe through the strain, which muscles to contract and which to relax. It's a dance, and Magnus leads him through it.

Time eludes Alec. Has it been minutes? An hour? He wouldn't know. He doesn't need to know. Sir is taking care of trivial things like that.

Magnus runs his fingers over the white rope. Alec looks down at himself with hooded eyes, and must agree that the white was a great choice. He chuckles. It's a sound of joy for a change.

"Do you like it?" the dom asks, smiling. "It accentuates the beauty of your body."

Alec would have approved the first question, but the second…

Magnus chuckles. "Oh, the furrowed brow. Still disagreeing with what I'm saying?"

Alec casts his eyes down. It does look beautiful. Like a suspender belt made out of rings and rope, with decorative braids and bows. It shows off his flat stomach and muscular thighs. He's pretty sure it does a good job in showing off his butt, too.

But Alec isn't beautiful. There are burn scars, small and round, but also cuts that went too deep to heal without scarring. Well, too deep for Alec's liking. Seb probably still goes off on knowing that he marked Alec for life, the 'S' still so prominent next to his belly button.

Alec breathes a sigh, and Magnus chuckles again. "You'll learn to take it, my little prince...," Magnus says, and Alec freezes, waiting for the 'ess' to drop. But the syllable never comes. Instead, Sir shushes him again. "Relax. You'll get there."

Alec chuckles, the tension easing out of his body. Magnus misread his reaction, but it's fine. He nods. Because he trusts his dom. And as hard as some of the things he says are to digest, Alec knows that Sir would never lie to him.

'Your trust after all you've gone through is remarkable,' his therapist's words echo in his head. But Alec doesn't trust many people fully. Magnus is just one of the very few. There's something between them. Alec can feel it, even though he doesn't dare look at it too closely. But the chemistry they have, this is real.

Magnus smiles at him. "I'll bind your calves and thighs together. You'll look perfect. All dolled up and pretty for me."

Alec loves futomomo. He sometimes does it on himself. He has never bound anyone else before. But looking up at his dom, he can't help but wonder how he'd look in a chest harness weave, maybe maroon rope running over his caramel skin.

Sometimes, Magnus loses his shirt when they do bondage floor play. Alec loves the feel of his dom's skin on his own. But it's always a special occasion, and being touched by Magnus is a privilege in any way.

"So pretty," Magnus judges as he pulls Alec up and guides him forward until he lies on his front. With anybody else, Alec might panic now, fully exposed and vulnerable as he is. But not with Sir watching over him. He's safe, can relax into the bonds, is allowed to let go physically and mentally. The ropes work their charm every single time.

Magnus gets up from the floor and circles Alec, taking his time to enjoy the view on his rear. Alec hears the sound of his phone taking a picture. Magnus truly wants to get the message across today, as it seems. His dom always expects Alec to look at the pictures he's taking of him, and to write down what he feels watching himself in whatever situation Magnus captured him in.

Magnus moves him around, brings him into different positions, taking pictures whenever he is safely settled, until he decides to lean him against his chest again, facing a mirror. It's the first time that Alec sees Magnus' ropework in all its glory. He doesn't dare look at his face, though. He must be a disgusting mess by now.

As if he read his mind, Magnus unbuckles the gag and throws it to the side. He conjures a facecloth and cleans the saliva off his chin and neck. He ruffles Alec's hair and massages his jaw for a moment.

Alec watches the two of them in the mirror. Such a shame that he couldn't keep his mouth shut in the beginning. The imprints of the gag taint the image a little, but still…

Magnus takes the clicker out of his hand, tests the circulation, and nods approvingly. Then, he pulls Alec close, hands still tied behind the nape of his neck. Magnus presses his cheek against Alec's upper arm.

"I will tell you a few things now, and I want you to answer them with affirmation and thanks. Do you understand?" Alec nods quickly, and Magnus smiles in delight.

"You are beautiful."

Alec's eyes flutter shut for a moment. He swallows hard. He isn't allowed to lie, but he is also expected to respect his dom's words. They weigh more than his self-doubts.

"Yes, Sir. Thank you, Sir," he says, every word a nearly insurmountable hurdle. But he manages. Magnus squeezes his sides in answer.

"You are a wonderful sub."

Alec bites back a retort. "Yes, Sir. Thank you, Sir," he grinds out, eliciting a chuckle from his dom.

"You are doing your best." This one is easier to agree to.

"Your submission is a gift."

"You are pleasing me."

"You deserve to be taken care of."

"You are strong."

"You are a good boy."

"You're perfect."

Chapter Text

Alec fidgets with the hem of his sleeve. Even after nearly two years of coming here regularly, he sometimes still struggles with the start of a therapy session. As usual, grey-blue eyes pierce into him, their impact only slightly softened by the gentle smile on his therapist's lips.

"The nightmares are back," he says and worries his lip between his teeth. It sounds like confessing failure. He let Sebastian back into his mind. He used to be good at pushing any thought of him away, but since Alec started scening with Magnus, his ex is so much more present in his thoughts nowadays. He knows that it's connected. And he's pretty sure that Dr Gray will advise him to stop scening. At least with a regular dom.

Alec has weighed the pros and cons of it for a few weeks now. But, how did Dr Gray once put it so bluntly? 'If there is an itch to scratch, it doesn't help to ignore it.' So he kept on going. Submitting does him good. And no other dom feels like Magnus. Of course, she can't and won't force him against his will. But Alec trusts her judgement.

He really got lucky with his therapist, a kink-positive professor of psychology and licensed clinical psychologist. Getting an appointment with her was like winning the jackpot. He wouldn't have come so far if she wouldn't have been there to guide him through the mess that Sebastian had left behind, without pathologising him in the process.

It had taken him five other therapists—and even more months—just to find her by chance through a panel discussion on YouTube. That she had an open slot was destiny.

She didn't take his kinky background to judge his mental health, neither called him a masochist who now played the victim, nor a pervert because there had been quite a few things that Alec had actually liked with Sebastian. The other therapists had come to one of these conclusions rather quickly.

With Dr Gray, he talked about his kinks, but just like about other parts of his life. They weren't a measurement of his mental health, but something to dissect, something for him to discover and explore in a safe way.

It was Dr Gray who briefed him about the local BDSM scene, who gave him info about munches, opened him some doors. To this day, Alec doesn't know if she's part of the community or simply well connected. Either way, she keeps it all very professional. He has never run into her until now, either.

"I got through a few nightmares well enough, but the last—I needed Andrew. It was a bad one."

"Do you want to share it with me?" she asks, encouragingly.

Warmth creeps up into Alec's cheeks and ears. He wanted to avoid this topic. But if he can talk freely with anybody about this, then with her.

"It started out nicely, with me cuddling with my dom in bed. But then, I realised that I couldn’t move, and he morphed into Seb. It was— It felt so real. My muscles were exactly— For days, I felt off." He runs his hand over his face. He can't even properly talk about it. Just remembering the dream makes his body go numb.

"Breathe, Alec. You're safe here," Dr Gray says softly.

He nods, just realising that he missed several breaths. Tears run over his face. This isn't fair! Sebastian lives a happy life somewhere in the city, and Alec has still to battle with the repercussions of their whole relationship, but especially their last night.

"I think of him so often, lately. Started to see him in the masses, again. Two days ago, I thought I saw him in the ER. It's—" He sighs. "I thought I was past that stage."

Dr Gray smiles at him fondly. "Healing is messy, Alec. It's not a straight line of progress. It's leaps and bounds, regression, detours. And that's okay. You're on a good path. But that doesn't mean it's easy."

Alec bites the inside of his lip. "Do you think…? It could be the scening, right? That triggers it."

Dr Gray leans back in her armchair. "It could be. How is it going?"

Alec can't help but smile. "He's… different. Very different. I'm not sure if it's really D/s. I mean, he works with me, trains me well. But he's also mostly nice. The worst punishment as of now was sorting a pile of marbles and stones. And I felt good doing it. That's kinda counterproductive if it comes to penalisation."

Dr Gray narrows her eyes. "What do you think a punishment is for, Alec?"

He shrugs. "To correct wrong behaviour."

"And what did you do wrong?"

Alec lowers his gaze to his hands and sighs. "I was distracted, couldn't follow his orders."

She hums in understanding. "My hunch is that he didn't want to punish you, but help you focus. The sorting should keep your mind occupied. It was an aid for you to correct your behaviour, but not a punishment."

Alec furrows his brow. "He never punishes me. And I… It's unsettling."

"Did you tell him that?"

"He's my dom. Who am I to tell him what to do?"

Dr Gray taps her pen against her notepad. "Communication is important in a D/s relationship. Of course, you can ask him for what you need. And a good dom is thankful for their sub's input. Yes, it isn't a request programme, but your needs are just as important as your dom's."

Alec furrows his brow. How can that be right? "He's not a service top," he argues.

Dr Gray chuckles. "As a professional dom, he is, to some extent."

Alec pinches the flesh between his thumb and pointer. He knows that. It's kinda fake. So he is just a fake submissive, too. Still. "But I don't make the rules. He decides what I receive."

"That's correct. That's why I said, 'to some extent'. You clearly have power exchange in your dynamics. He makes you do things that take a lot of effort on your part. If he were just servicing you, he'd only do what you liked, probably without pushing any boundaries. That's another dynamic, and you already experienced that." Alec furrows his brow. "That man you scened with for the first time after the break-up—what was different between him and your dom?"

Alec huffs a laugh. He had nearly forgotten the guy that he had found over a dating app that Izzy had lovingly pressured him into signing up for. "He was weird."

"He was considerate, but he wasn't a dom. He was a service top. You were the one in charge. You laid out the tools he was allowed to use, ruled out anal play. You told him exactly what you wanted. And that was great for the point in your healing that you were at. Then you scened with Andrew, who is clearly a dom, even though you were still the one setting the framework. He was a service top, too, in a way. But there was already more power exchange happening. You allowed him to bind you with rope."

Alec nods. He never really thought about all this stuff. The first guy was good to take his fear away from being ordered because they talked about what exactly Alec wanted. It had been kinda fun. But Dr Gray is right. His power didn't lay in a safeword, the withdrawal in consent then. He was the one in charge. Alec chuckles. Was he a power bottom for once in his life? Probably.

"I definitely don't feel in charge when I'm scening with Magnus."

Surprise washes over Dr Gray's face. She smiles. "That's great, Alec. That means your dom is doing a good job."

"It's still fake, isn't it?"

She shakes her head. "The framing is artificial. That doesn't make it fake. I doubt that your dom doesn't pull satisfaction from it, one way or another."

Alec breathes a sigh. "But does he prepare me for…?"

"Alec." She gives him a warm smile. "Your goal was healing and learning to trust a dom."

"Yes. And now the nightmares are back."

She presses her lips together and nods. "I think it's only logical. You dare to do things you only experienced before with your abuser. And even though Magnus' methods are pretty much diametrical to what Sebastian did, the dynamics can feel similar. Your mind has a lot of work to do processing this. You said in your dream, you were cuddling with your dom." He nods. "And then, you couldn't move." Another nod. "Did he do something to you?"

Alec shakes his head. "He just spoke, and then I woke up. It wasn't a flashback or something."

"That's progress, don't you think?"

Alec huffs a mirthless laugh. "That I didn't relive the full crap of his sick kink again? Yeah, that's awesome." He looks out of the window to calm his anger. God, he hates this guy, but he hates even more how pathetic he feels just thinking about what Seb did to him. What he let him do to him.

"No kink is 'sick' if it is practised with a fully consenting partner in a safe framework, Alec. Not every somnophiliac is a rapist. And yes, you not living through this in your dream is progress."

"There is no way of living this kink without committing a crime," Alec bites.

Dr Gray raises an eyebrow. "What do you call someone who beats their partner?"

Alec scowls at her. "A domestic abuser."

She nods. "And what do you call someone spanking their partner during sex because they both enjoy it?"

"Kinky?"

"And what do you call someone, who decides to spank someone, who agreed to pass the power to them to do so?"

Alec groans.

"A dom, right? I know it's difficult because Sebastian did terrible things to you. And I agree, there might be paraphilia and other non-conventional practices, concepts or fantasies that are therapy-worthy, either because they put the person into danger or others. But most things that happen in a BDSM context were seen as an illness by the public and professionals alike in the past. Still are, as you had to experience yourself."

It's a difficult pill to swallow. Every cell in Alec's body screams in protest. Why is she defending someone enjoying sex with an unconscious partner? Shouldn't she be on his side?

"There's no way to live out this kink in a healthy way!" he says through gritted teeth, nervously bobbing his knee.

Dr Gray lays her notepad on the coffee table and leans forward. "With somnophilia, it is just the same as with spanking. A partner could play possum to give the illusion of unconsciousness, a sub can consent freely to being drugged to let their dom live out their fantasy—and then, there is what was done to you. Somnophilia itself isn't inherently dangerous. How someone chooses to act it out, that decides if they are kinky, in a consensual power exchange, or if they commit a crime."

Alec jumps off the sofa and paces up and down the room. "It doesn't make a difference, though, does it? Drugged, no one can safeword."

Dr Gray leans back again. "That's correct. And people who agree to something like this usually take a long period of time to discuss the details, what's okay and what's not. Of course, it can still go awry, but there are circumstances, especially in a long-term D/s relationship, where it can work without anybody getting hurt. I understand that, from your perspective, this is inconceivable. But it is practised, and it's not our place to judge people who decide to connect in this way."

Alec clenches his jaw. "Why would any sub do that?"

"Because they crave the feeling of truly losing all control. It's a difficult topic, and I will take good care not to judge a person who feels like this. There are things that people want to experience that are outside the frame of 'Safe, Sane, Consensual'. Is this for everyone? No. But risk-aware consensual kink is something that exists, and it can be dangerous, but if everything is discussed beforehand, it still can be a safe practice."

RACK. Alec has heard of it before, but it felt too close to what he had to endure to take a closer look. But how Dr Gray is phrasing it, it seems to be an option for some kinks that tend to be on the extreme side of the spectrum. It still doesn't sit right with Alec. Maybe never will.

"So, Seb could have gotten out of it anyway. He just had to claim that it was consensual."

Dr Gray shakes her head. "Not without proof, no."

"But he can still do this to others."

"I know."

"If I just went to the ER and got me tested."

"You were under the influence, and you managed to save yourself, Alec. I'm sorry that you didn't get justice. But every single day, you fight to get back what he took from you."

Alec huffs self-deprecatingly, still pacing. "Yeah. By giving someone else the same power as I gave him."

Dr Gray tilts her head to the side. "Do you?"

Alec stops still in his tracks. Does he? Would he let Magnus do everything? Or would he put a stop to it? Would he scream for help if his dom didn't listen?

He let Magnus feed him. He could have put drugs in his food, but Alec knew Sir wouldn't do such a thing. And all that after Alec avoids birthday cakes in the staff room to this very day. Huh.

"I trust him." It's a simple statement, but it shakes him to his core. It's different to let a professional guide him, or let a dom with a good reputation like Andrew tie him up while his partner waits outside, having tea with your sister. This is huge. And he didn't even realise.

Dr Gray smiles at him. "As I said. You're making progress, Alec. You can be proud of yourself."

Alec slumps into the sofa cushions and chuckles. Yes, maybe he is. If just a little.

Chapter Text

Alec taps his fingers against the counter and gives Maia, who's tending the bar today, a strained smile. He doesn't know why he's so nervous. He simply has to find a middle ground between not saying anything and being a bossy bottom. Can't be that hard, right?

He breathes out slowly when he sees Magnus entering the bar area from the playroom side. He had a client. Of course, he did. Alec really needs to get a hold of his jealousy. This is getting ridiculous.

"Hello, Alexander. You wanted to talk with me?" Magnus greets him, cupping his shoulder with a gentle grip.

"Yes, Sir. I wanted to ask something, and in the middle of a scene didn't seem the right moment to do so."

Magnus nods and sits down next to him, ordering a mocktail with a wave of his hand. The man must live in this place if Maia knows exactly what he wants without even saying a word. Alec looks at her metal necklace. Could this be a collar? Maybe she's one of Magnus' other subs. One who doesn't have to pay for his service, probably. And a most pleasing one, if Alec reads the smile she receives right as an umbrella-topped, pink drink is set before his dom.

Magnus turns his full attention to him then, though. This is so much better. "That's very considerate of you. Thank you, darling. What is it you wanted to talk about?"

Alec fidgets with the stem of his glass. "I… I was wondering why you never punish me when I do something wrong, Sir." He worries his lip between his teeth, not daring to look at his dom.

A long moment of silence falls between them, and Alec thinks he has finally managed to piss Magnus off. But then, there are fingers on his chin, moving him to face his dom. And Sir doesn't seem to be cross or anything. Everything in his face looks soft, and warm, and—Alec can't help to read it that way—loving.

"Why would I punish my good boy?"

Alec swallows around the sudden lump in his throat. Magnus' eyes are so intense, and he doesn't let go of his chin.

"I… I'm messing up all the time, Sir."

Magnus' forehead creases, and he shakes his head. "You usually don't. But if you do, you react beautifully to discipline. Why would I punish you instead if that works fine?"

"But I couldn’t hold the plank any longer, and I nearly fell when you bound me, Sir," Alec points out.

Magnus' lips fall open before he composes himself again. "Alec, it is my job to make sure you're safe when we play. So, you stumbling was my fault, not yours. And you held the plank longer than I thought you could. Your core strength is impressive. I'm cheering you on, but if you can't any longer, that's not a failure. You pleased me very much. I know you kept on struggling for me, didn't you, sweet boy?"

Alec nods, and Magnus finally lets go of his chin. It feels deserted, cold without Magnus' warmth infusing his skin.

"Alec, you are a wonderful submissive. That I have barely punished you is because you haven't given me a reason to do so. But if you feel you need something else, I'm more than happy to provide." He smirks at him, and the mischievous glimmer in his eyes sends goosebumps down Alec's spine.

"It's not that I…" Alec turns back to the bar. "I don't like to be punished, Sir. And I don't like the thought of you being displeased by my behaviour. It just feels wrong. I'm not used to being a good sub."

Magnus nods in understanding. How he always gets what Alec tries to say, the sub doesn't know. "Are we talking about real punishment or funishment?"

Alec furrows his brow. "Funishment?"

"A punishment that isn't really one because you enjoy it. Like a good spanking. Some bratty subs act out solely for this purpose."

Alec can't wrap his head around this concept. But he remembers Andrew calling Lorenzo a brat before he spanked him. Did Lorenzo want to be punished? What a weird thought.

"No. I don't even know if I like spanking, Sir."

Magnus grows rigid. "But spanking is on your green list." Alec ducks his head. He should have kept his stupid mouth shut. "Alexander!" Yes, this is Magnus' stern dom voice.

"I needed to give you an option to punish me, Sir. But I couldn't… The other things just… I can't."

Magnus hums. "They are triggers for you." It's not a question.

Alec lowers his head even more. Sir knows how broken he is. Tears prick his eyes. Will he stop scening with him now?

"There are other ways to penalise a submissive than corporal punishment, Alexander. We can take pain play fully off the table."

Alec shakes his head. He doesn't want to. He kinda wants to experience what Sir is like when he inflicts pain that doesn't cease after a few seconds. "No," he croaks. "But maybe not as a punishment at first, Sir?" He feels weak asking for this mercy.

"But of course, Alexander." He gives him a soft smile. "Though, not today. I planned something else for you." Alec nods.

"Yes. Thank you, Sir."

Magnus looks so very pleased, and Alec relaxes at his side. He feels much better now.

"Finish your drink, then walk to my room, folded clothes on the bed, and kneel in the middle, facing the St Andrew's cross. Wait for me."

"Yes, Sir," Alec says and empties his glass in one big gulp, hurrying to the playroom.

Maia behind the bar moves over to Magnus. "Someone has a big ass crush," she states.

"He's just a very eager sub," Magnus replies.

"I wasn't talking about him," Maia smirks.

The room is dipped in soft candlelight and smells of sandalwood. Ever since Alec met Magnus, this scent is solely connected to his dom. That it is so strong, so all-encompassing now makes Alec a little dizzy. It's an assault on his senses. A good one, though.

He quickly gets rid of his clothes. He catches a glimpse of himself in the mirror and freezes for a second.

He put on panties today. Just for Sir. His seven days are long over, and Alec switched back to his usual briefs as he always does. But showing his dom his gratitude, even if only in such a small gesture, felt right. He hopes that Magnus will like them.

He folds his clothes and kneels as he was told. Facing away from the door, Alec feels vulnerable. But he can be that with Magnus. Sir will always take good care of him.

Bits and pieces of their conversation float through his mind as he is waiting patiently. Magnus called him a 'wonderful submissive'. He can't help but smile at the memory. Sir wouldn't lie to him. He can trust his words. And these words make Alec feel good. Oh-so good. 'Just don't let this go to your head,' he tells himself.

It takes a long while until Sir enters the room and runs his fingers over Alec's scalp, the touch so welcome after a whole week without gentleness. He dreads the weeks when Sir will be away on holiday. Maybe he should get over himself and go to one of the cuddle puddles that Dr Gray told him about a while ago.

But for now, Sir is still here, and Alec will enjoy it to the fullest, will soak up every affection he grants him with.

Magnus circles him slowly, checking his posture, giving Alec a content hum. The sound wraps warmly around his heart, just like the words from his dom's lips. "You are exquisite, sweet boy. So beautifully dressed. Did you need to feel worthy?"

Alec shakes his head. "It's only for you, Sir."

Magnus makes a sound of surprise at the back of his throat. "Why, thank you, Alexander. Black lace suits you well." Maybe it's just wishful thinking on Alec's part, but the dom sounds delighted.

Alec blushes under the praise. He's always especially shy when it comes to the very feminine items in his small collection. This one is the tamest one that falls into that category, though. Alec isn't sure if he'll ever build up the courage to show his dom the ones with polka dots and bows.

Wanting Magnus to like his looks is fruitless, of course. His dom praised him in his cotton boxer briefs just the same. But the tiny satisfied glimmer in his dom's eyes is all he lives for right now. Yes, he'll wear panties from now on. No matter what.

Magnus smiles down at him and loosens his cravat. It's one of those wide neckties that Alec has only ever seen in historical movies. Well, before he met Sir.

"I will blindfold you now," Magnus says, and Alec nods obediently. He finally proved to his dom that he is ready for this step. Butterflies storm Alec's stomach, partly nervous, partly excited.

Alec hasn't been blindfolded for years now, and Sir seems to sense it as he reminds him of his safewords. "Green," Alec says, and Magnus' smile is the last thing he sees before the world goes dark.

The fabric is soft on his skin, and Magnus never breaks physical contact in one way or another as soon as he has taken the sense of sight away. A sure hand on Alec's shoulder grounds him as he adapts to the darkness surrounding him.

"Watch your breathing, darling boy. Let it come and go naturally. Don't change it. Just observe."

Alec tries his best to do so. It reminds him of one of the breathing exercises his first therapist taught him. The only good thing the man had managed, honestly.

Minutes pass by, or maybe only seconds, until Magnus takes his hands and nudges him to stand up. He leads him to the bed and positions Alec as he wants him. Leather cuffs are buckled on wrists and ankles, and the telltale click tells Alec that he is fastened to the bedposts once more.

The sheets against his skin feel cool, the cushions well plumped up. After all these months, Alec is pretty sure that this isn't just playroom number two, but Magnus' kingdom. Every detail fits his style—always a little over the top, and still never too much. The room is decadent, lush, comfy, and still dangerous underneath the glamour of velvet and silk.

Alec feels Magnus' hands roaming over his chest and arms. They brush over his sides to his thighs and back. Alec wishes Magnus would sit on him again, a sure weight on his legs, grounding. But he doesn't move from his side, a hand right above Alec's knee while he seems to sort something on the bedside table.

"Breathe," Magnus says. "We'll try out a few sensations. Some you already know, and some you probably don't."

Alec nods. He goes through the list of things they already used. Feathers come to mind, and Magnus' collection of scarves. Right after Alec had sorted them by colour—passing the test of having to ask about some containing several—and had folded them to his dom's liking, Sir had ordered him to keep his eyes closed for him to caress him with the soft fabrics. Not too different from his current situation.

"I can hear you thinking," Magnus chuckles softly.

"I'm sorry, Sir."

The dom squeezes his knee in answer, and a soft pashmina glides over Alec's chest. He gasps, the touch so much more intense than the last time when his eyes had often opened of their own accord at every new item. But the blindfold does a good job, no matter how Alec's eyes react. The world is drifting away, and all that exists is Magnus' warm voice and the sensations that are quietly raining down on him.

After a while, the scarf is replaced by blunt nails scratching over Alec's skin. He bites his lip, but the expected pain never comes. Sir surely watches his every reaction, as he usually does. So Alec lets go of his tormented lip. He doesn't want Magnus to think that he's afraid.

The dom's fingers rake over his chest, dig into his arm muscles, caress the palms of his hands. The tiniest changes in pressure and positioning of Magnus' hands register in Alec's brain. It's nearly too much after a whole week of touching others but never being touched himself.

But Alec tries to let the sensations sink into his skin without resistance. It's what Sir wants him to do, after all.

Magnus' hand settles above his knee again, and Alec expects another change. He shouldn't, but he can't switch off his brain. Not yet.

Something cold runs around his navel, flat and still uneven. Whatever it is, it settles there after Alec gets his flinching body back under control. Not that he could get far anyway, the cuffs holding him in place. More points of his torso get in touch with the cold object, as if he were a shelf.

Alec's breathing speeds up under the coldness. It feels heavy, freezing as ice cubes, roughly their size, but there is no water melting. This is new, and not knowing what it is unsettles him.

"Sir?"

"Yes, darling?"

"I— May I know what this is?"

Magnus' warm hand cups his cheek. "But of course. These are whisky stones, made of steatite. Is this okay?"

"Yes, Sir. Of course, Sir."

Alec relaxes into the bounds again and melts into the pillows. This was stupid. Why did he ask? As if he didn't trust his dom. And it didn't even hurt. He's such a wuss.

"Thank you for asking," Magnus says as if reading his mind. Alec scrunches his nose and his dom chuckles. "Don't distort your beautiful face. I'm very proud of you."

Lucky for Alec, Sir can't see him roll his eyes. Okay, maybe he is a little bratty sometimes, too.

The stones wander over his body, sending goosebumps over his skin. That's worse than the tickling, but he wishes it came back when Magnus changes to a weird thing rolling over his arm. It's pricking, tickling, and sends goosebumps over his skin, slightly changing depending on how much pressure Magnus puts on it. But this time, Alec thinks he knows what it is—a pinwheel. First a single one, then one with several wheels, then back to another single one. Magnus seems to have a whole collection of these things.

Alec's skin grows more and more sensitive. After rolling it over his whole body, Magnus runs the wheel repeatedly over his nipples. It's not half as nice as on other parts of his body. Alec was a soldier. He should be able to get through this without tasting the sun's colour on his tongue. He can hold the word in. Just so.

But Alec won't cop out. Not out of this. 'For Sir,' he thinks. 'I can be good for Sir.' And it doesn't take long until he slowly floats away.

Chapter Text

"You filthy bitch! You're such a slut for my cock…"

Alec freezes in the middle of the corridor leading up to Magnus' room. He's not sure where the voice is coming from, but the man sounds way too close to Sebastian for his liking. His heartbeat speeds up, and cold sweat slowly soaks his clothes. He opens the highest button on his dress shirt, but breathing doesn't get easier. Not with the tirade of insults that the man rains down on his playing partner.

Alec has heard these words a million times directed at him. Some of them were fun, others not, some turned ugly over time. Alec tries to take a deep breath, but he can't make himself draw air. Or move. He listens to the voice like a rabbit caught in the headlights. He knows it can't be Seb. He's black-listed in this club. And if Alec's brain were properly supplied with oxygen, then he might be able to realise that the voice might sound similar, but that the man humiliating his submissive or bottom has an American accent, unlike his London-born ex. But sadly, it isn't.

Alec closes his eyes and listens to the muffled sounds accompanying the insults. The sub is likely gagged and fucked hard, judging by the sound of skin slapping against skin.

Alec had nearly forgotten that sex could be part of a scene. Magnus had replaced the association with non-sexual touches and chores that didn't entail genitalia. How quickly one can forget. And how quickly all progress can be reversed, too. He's back in Sebastian's flat, bound and gagged, blindfolded with his master driving into him, vomiting filth and insults down on him.

At first, Alec had wanted it. Sebastian had said things like, "You're so beautiful when you're desperate." Alec had liked that—the thought of being verbally reduced to a needy little thing. A weird pride spread in his chest whenever Seb told him what a good little cum slut he was for him when he fucked him hard and Alec still begged for more. Or when he said he was his little pillow princess when Sebastian edged him for ages and Alec couldn't stay on his knees anymore. All these were earned insults, a manifestation of what he offered in his submission. They made him feel good.

It was all part of the play, connected to the fantasies they shared. It was also at a point in their relationship when Sebastian still told him nice things, too.

Alec doesn't know when it shifted from pride-building humiliation to insulting degradation that only hurt but never got him anywhere, especially not off. Sebastian, on the other hand, was thriving the deeper he dove into it. He probably always prefered this part of dominance more than the responsibilities of a master. Over time, he simply stopped caring altogether. Still, Alec stayed. Way too long. He had wanted it, right? He just wasn't good enough. If he were a better slave, his master would surely treat him better, too.

Now, he can't even imagine himself getting aroused by any kind of humiliation or enjoying it in some way. Just another thing that Sebastian has taken away from him. Alec feels bitter about it, whenever he reflects on his kink history. But right now, he can't feel anything but a tightness in his chest.

His survival instincts made him freeze in the middle of a corridor in a BDSM club that he frequents regularly, on his way to a dom who he can't even imagine saying things like this. Nothing could be further away from his past experience, and still, he seems to be caught in the middle of it. It's just not a nightmare this time. This is real, and he starts to feel dizzy. If only Sir were here. He'd surely know what to do. Alec can't even feel shame in his state. He just needs his dom, his sweet, gentle, never-insulting-anyone dominant.

Of course, he knows what services Magnus offers. He's not stupid. He knows that Magnus is the dom his clients need him to be, and Alec needs praise and encouragement, guidance and discipline. So that's what he receives. Magnus may be way different around other submissives.

The gag comes off in playroom one, which Alec makes out to be the source of the play he's eavesdropping on, the door standing slightly ajar. A mistake, probably. Or a part of the humiliation play. Alec can hear ragged breaths and whimpers. They add just another layer to his flashback. He sometimes couldn't keep these noises in, either.

"What would your sister say if she heard you begging like this?" the dom growls. It sounds like it's right out of Sebastian's textbook.

"Please, Sir, no!" the female submissive begs. "I'm gonna be good. Be a good little slut for you."

The words come so easy, with no hesitation, no resistance. She surely hasn't said this for the first time. She probably likes the term, finds it empowering, reclaimed it herself or through proper training.

Alec used to like being called a slut. It may not make a lot of sense in a vanilla setting, but the term made him dive into submission as no other Seb had used for him. Alec wanted to be used for his master's enjoyment, and the term drove home that Sebastian understood his needs.

It lost its positive connotation when his ex started to say, "Don't fight, slut. You want it," whenever Alec had asked him to stop their play. In hindsight, that was when the tides turned and consensual scening became domestic abuse. But Alec couldn't see it like that at the time. He found excuses for Seb, forgave him after a few days of better behaviour, of more affection and kinder words. He hadn't beaten him up, after all. It was just kinky sex with a few bumps in the road. At least, that was what he told himself every single time it happened.

Shame played its part in all of it, too. He was a soldier, a doctor—he couldn't be an abuse victim. No one would have believed him anyway. Just like the police, when he finally found the courage to file a charge. Sebastian framed him as a liar, and the offence report as an act of revenge. At the police station, Sebastian was charming and calm, Alec an incoherent mess. The younger police officer seemed to believe him, but her superiors put it off as quarrels between ex-lovers. With the tranquilisers long out of his system, Alec was left empty-handed.

Now, he understood why so many rape victims never press charges. Public humiliation on top of the assault—he could have lived without that experience.

"Alexander?" Magnus' voice pulls him out of his head and back to reality. "Why are you out here?"

Alec opens his mouth, but more words come out of the door. "Such a good girl. Come here, baby," the dom says.

'Aftercare,' Alec thinks. Something eases in his chest, but he still feels out of it, struggles to catch his breath. Magnus reaches the door in a few strides and closes it swiftly, pressing the call button on the wall.

He steps closer to Alec and touches his arm carefully. He studies his face cautiously, his rigid body, his tense shoulders. Alec sinks to his knees and presses his face against Magnus' stomach, finally drawing enough air into his burning lungs. His dominant shushes him softly and cards a hand through his hair.

"Has my sweet boy had to listen to nasty words?" he asks, and Alec nods, tears wetting Magnus' shirt.

"I'm not a slut," Alec mumbles when the dizziness subsides.

"No, you're not, my darling. You are Sir's good boy."

Magnus keeps on massaging his scalp when an employee arrives in the corridor. "Remind the people in room one that this part of the club isn't for public play. They left the door open."

"Yes, sir," the man says, and Alec paws at Magnus' pants. He doesn't care if he comes off as clingy.

"Thank you, Raphael," Magnus says, and the man disappears as quickly as he arrived.

Magnus turns his full attention back to his sub. "Come, sweet boy. Let's go into our room, and you can prove to me how good you are."

Alec nods and gets up, following Sir to their room. Raphael can jump into a lake for all he cares. Sir is his. At least for now.

Chapter Text

Magnus guides Alec into his room and pushes a firm yet soft cushion in the middle of the free space at the foot of the bed. Alec knows this means a long kneeling session. His hands go to his shirt immediately, but his dom stops them.

"Not yet," he says softly, and Alec furrows his brow. Sir always wants him undressed. Is he only letting him down gently? No. He said 'yet'. Alec draws another breath, the air still not flooding his lungs in a natural cascade.

He sinks on his knees and clasps a hand around the other wrist. Open hands feel impossible to achieve with his still rigid body, and Sir didn't give him further instructions, so…

Magnus squats down in front of him and considers him once more. Alec can't even squirm under his intense gaze. He's off. Not the good, fluffy, warm subspace kind, but the cold, dissociated, shut down variety he so often achieved at the end of his relationship. It was better than feeling something.

Alec's eyes flicker through the room once Magnus stands up again, and he swallows hard when he sees what his dom has laid out on the bed. There are several paddles in different materials, shapes and sizes, a cane, a crop, a flogger, and a braided whip. The prospect of impact play should rouse emotions from Alec, either excitement or fear... or a mix of those, and everything in between. But it strangely doesn't. Magnus could use them all on him, and the pain would probably not even register.

But Magnus takes a scarf and covers them. Then, he walks over to a sideboard and opens a door. A light switches on inside. A mini-fridge in a playroom? Alec never really gave attention to where Magnus took his aftercare snacks from. The drinks weren't cool either, more room temperature. He'd be curious to what Sir might get from there, but he's still too withdrawn, his eyes sluggishly moving like in trance. It's a weird sensation.

Magnus kneels down in front of him and orders, "Give me your hands." It takes Alec a moment to react. It's a Herculean task to unclasp his hand, to pull his arms forward. And all under Sir's burning gaze.

But he manages. Magnus takes one of the items and closes Alec's fingers of one hand around it, then repeats the same with the other. It's cold and hard, chiselled, and rough around the edges. Alec grips the items tightly, the shape and the coldness pulling him away from the emptiness spreading inside of him.

A warm hand cups his jaw, and after a moment, a cool pen runs underneath Alec's eyes, rolls coolness and something slightly scented over the dark circles left behind by too many night shifts.

Alec's eyes can finally anchor on Magnus' face. The eye-roller disappears, and another pen is raised to his temple, this time spreading peppermint scent, sharp and cool, on his skin.

He breathes a ragged breath, like a motor stuttering to life, and finally—finally— he can inhale and exhale again.

"Tell me what you see in this room, Alexander." Alec nods. He can do that. Hopefully.

"A mirror," he starts. "A carpet, a chair, a bed."

"Good. You're doing well, sweet boy. Give me colours to the things you see."

Oh. Now what Magnus is doing sinks in. It speaks for its effectiveness that Alec's brain is catching on to it.

"A black leather couch, a black sideboard, red linen, a golden scarf. "

"Such a good boy," Magnus praises. Warmth spreads through Alec's chest, a nice contrast to his by now freezing hands. "And now give me adjectives beside colours."

A tiny smile tugs on Alec's lips. "Satiny cushions, a sturdy St Andrew's cross, cold whisky stones."

"That's cheating. You don't see them in your hands," Magnus states, clearly holding back a chuckle.

Alec smiles lopsidedly and turns his gaze to Sir. "My beautiful dominant," he says, and he's 99.9% sure that Magnus stops breathing for a long moment.

"My cheeky sub," the dom chuckles. "Good to have you back."

"I'm sorry, Sir."

Magnus makes a dismissive sound. "No need, Alexander. But we should talk about you not having 'any triggers'." He raises an unimpressed eyebrow.

"Can I…?" Alec trails off.

Magnus nods encouragingly.

"Can I move a little, Sir?"

The dom's eyes sparkle in the soft light. "But of course." He raises gracefully. 'Like the perfect sub would,' Alec thinks and tries to mirror his fluent movements. But his limbs are still stiff, and his muscles slightly shaking after being tense for so long.

Alec leaves the stones on the floor and moves his fingers to regain warmth in them. He stretches and shakes his arms and legs, all under Magnus' careful eyes.

After a minute or two, he takes the posture that Magnus named ‘the soldier stance’, feet hip wide, a hand once more clasping a wrist behind his back, eyes straight forward. "I'm ready, Sir," he says, voice still a little wavering.

Magnus cups his cheeks tenderly. "Are you sure? We don't need to do anything, sweet boy. I won't charge you if you don't feel ready to play."

"No," Alec says. It may be only one word, but it's sure and firm.

Magnus purses his lips, and for a second, Alec thinks he'll send him away. But then the dom nods and takes a step to the side, removing the scarf from the impact toys. Alec's breathing speeds up, a turmoil of emotions washing over him.

"Sort these toys by size and hang them on this shelf," Magnus orders, and Alec's shoulders slump.

He's too fragile for Sir to play with him properly, to let him feel pain. He may not be a pain slut like Sebastian loved to call him, but enduring pain for his dom's delight always seemed the premium class of submission to him, something he could excel in. That and sex, but that's no option here, either.

"What's with that grumpy face? Is my boy over-challenged by this task?" Magnus asks, voice a bit mocking.

Alec presses his jaw forward. "No, Sir."

"Good. Then hurry. We don't have the whole day."

Alec furrows his brow. Is Magnus doing this on purpose? To test if he might snap? His dom is clever. He realised in what psychological state he was and knew how to get him out of it. The sorting is probably just another test to decide if he has to end the scene.

Alec hurries, sorts the toys by length quickly on the bed, then hangs them on the hooks under the designated shelf.

"Very well done, angel. Undress and lay down on the bed on your back, arms next to your body."

Alec has never gotten rid of his clothes and folded them so quickly in his life. He doesn't even find time to be nervous about today's underwear choice. At least, until his back hits the sheets.

"Oh my, Alexander. How exquisite. These bows bring out your hip bones beautifully."

A hot flush works its way from Alec's chest to the tip of his ears. He shouldn't have played eenie meenie minie mo to choose it. But he was in a hurry, and he couldn't decide. But his bravery seems to pay off as Sir runs his fingers up his leg, only stopping short of his panties.

"I won't blindfold or handcuff you today, and I expect you to tap out at the slightest discomfort, do you understand?" Alec nods. "I need verbal confirmation this time, Alexander."

"Yes, Sir. I will safeword as soon as I feel uncomfortable."

"Good boy. You can close your eyes if you want."

Magnus leaves the bedside and Alec shuts his eyes. If it is to prove to himself that he can do this or to his dom, he isn't quite sure.

He feels tired to the bones, as if he came here after a double shift and not well-rested after sleeping in on his day off. He knows what happened, can analyse it with medical precision. He tries to focus on the good things—the other dom's gentle voice at the end, the giggle of his sub that he heard before Magnus closed the door, the sure way his dominant assessed and dealt with him. As if he knew about panic attacks and other states that people can slip into when they are triggered or distressed.

It's important knowledge for someone pushing others to their limits, Alec supposes. And it makes the awe he feels for his dom only grow further. Magnus is a master of his art. That's absolutely certain.

Alec follows the sounds of running water and clinking glasses while Magnus prepares the scene. It's strangely relaxing to know that his dom is flexible enough to change plans in a split second if need be.

"Sir?"

Magnus' clothes rustle and Alec knows that he's looking at him.

"I'm okay, Sir."

Something is sat down on the bedside table, and the mattress dips under Magnus' weight. A warm hand on his arm builds contact before his dom's voice sounds above him.

"I know that you are. But this was a very strong reaction. I should know what triggered it. The words? His tone of voice? Her reactions?"

The familiar feeling of cool whisky stones running over his skin lets Alec pull in fresh air. He focuses on the coldness moving over his skin. He worries the inside of his cheek between his teeth and tries to dissect the events.

"I think it was a mix of everything, Sir. I had a flashback. Never had one, not this intense, at least." The dices disappear from his skin, and a slightly cool hand gently brushes over his cheek. Alec sighs at the contact.

"Thank you for sharing this with me. I don't want to trigger you in any way." Magnus falls silent for a short moment. "In case you open your eyes, Alexander, what I use next looks like a knife, but it isn't sharp."

Alec's eyes shoot open. Magnus smiles at him, dries the object and runs it over his own forearm. "See? No blade." Alec nods and closes his eyes again.

Magnus starts out with the tip of the wax knife and runs the warm point over Alec's skin. It's a strange feeling, but good, as if Magnus used him as a canvas for a painting made of warmth. This quickly turns into an artwork of cold as the dom changes the wax knives.

Goosebumps and heated skin alternate as Magnus uses tempered metal and glass toys on his skin. Alec grows highly aware of every point of contact and rolls on his stomach more than willingly when his dom asks him to.

On his front, he finally slips away into this warm and fuzzy dimension, where nothing really matters. His mind registers the warm massage oil that Magnus rubs into his back before he fully falls asleep.

Chapter Text

Alec motions Maia to make him another drink. He hasn't been to a show since he came to find a professional dom. But the prospect of seeing Magnus scening on stage was too tempting. Maybe he hopes to squelch the crush he harbours for his dom, and that has only grown since he had woken him up after the scene on that fateful day a few weeks ago, and their following conversation about Alec's past.

Magnus had been sympathetic. Stern, too, regarding his omission, but never pitying or angry. Ever since this talk, something has shifted. Alec couldn't describe it if he wanted to, he can simply feel it. There is a reverence from Magnus' side that was always there but comes fully to shine now. Yes, he's even more careful, showers more praise, explains more. All of it makes Alec feel so safe and loved, it gets all his wires mixed up. He hasn't had such a crush since—well, ever, really.

"What a lovely surprise," Andrew's voice comes from behind. "You didn't say you were coming."

Alec lowers his head in a gesture of respect. "I didn't know it either, Chief." He gives Lorenzo a complimentary nod. He and Andrew are playing tonight, easily recognisable by the sub's state of undress.

Andrew looks at Alec's wristband. "Wanna come with us to enjoy the show? You look like you could need it."

"I don't want to intrude. It's your night out, Chief."

Andrew smiles at him. "It's always nice to have two well-behaving submissives around."

The offer is too good to reject. "Thank you, Chief. I'd love to."

Alec falls behind Lorenzo and follows the other men to a booth. He waits patiently until Andrew's sub is properly nestled against his dom's side, then sinks to the floor. He doesn't expect anything from Andrew, but being allowed to sit at his feet is good. He may not want to play tonight—his urge properly sated after a shibari session with his dom two days ago—but he always feels better when he isn't alone in the club. He still hasn't grasped all the nuances of BDSM etiquette yet.

Sitting on the floor, with Andrew resting a hand on his shoulder, Alec ponders if he'd feel more comfortable here if he spent his 21st birthday in a club like this instead of agreeing with Sebastian to be his submissive. Alec had felt so special that day, honoured. He had no clue what he had gotten himself into, and he didn't know that he still should have had a choice after giving his boyfriend a carte blanche once.

Andrew's hold on his shoulder tightens, and Alec takes a deep breath. Chief probably knows exactly what he is thinking about.

"Are you wearing something nice today?"

Alec breathes out slowly. "No. My last nightmare has been weeks ago, Chief."

Alec glances over to Lorenzo, who wears panties as he usually does, nothing more. But the other sub is much more comfortable with luxuries than Alec is. He owns a villa full of antiquities and real paintings, wears silk and velvet in his everyday life. Andrew and he couldn't be more different, the dom being the chief of security in an old church building turned in-club. He's modest and wears as much colour and denim as Alec in his everyday life. Maybe that's why Alec clicked with him immediately. BDSM couture isn't Alec's cup of tea, the aesthetic more off-putting for him. He likes leather, but there it ends.

But Andrew didn't care that he just came in jeans and a tee, didn't mind that Alec didn't know how to address him properly, or how to act around his sub. He taught him, patiently, with smiles and winks. Alec owes a lot to him.

Seeing the couple outside of the club was another eye-opener. They were so incredibly normal. Well, as normal as Lorenzo Rey could be. But Andrew was doting, Lorenzo was prancing. No one would have expected their dynamics from seeing them like this. It was such a contrast to Sebastian's possessiveness, his talent to shame Alec in front of everyone with the sweetest face and voice so that no one took offence. He was just teasing, right? But Alec knew better. It was part and parcel of being a submissive, Seb had made him believe, as if submission were an all-or-nothing approach.

A tuck on his hair pulls Alec out of the memory. "Eyes on the stage, baby boy," Andrew says, and Alec quirks a small smile. Despite clearly focussing on his own sub, Andrew still has an eye on him. It feels strangely comforting.

But not as comforting as the man who steps onto the stage with a female sub, the woman clad in a patent leather corset and a string thong. Magnus is well-dressed, as usual—all black, his clothes adorned with silver chains and spikes. Alec couldn't pull his gaze from him even if Andrew ordered him to.

The way Magnus holds himself is a thing to behold, and for a long time, Alec can simply follow him work without giving the woman much attention. He gets lost in little details, like the new ear cuff or the red highlights that had been purple the last time they met. Magnus is beautiful, and it shouldn't matter, but it does.

"Is she a new professional?" Lorenzo asks. "I've never seen her before."

"No," Andrew replies. "She's one of Magnus' clients. She's been to the February munch, remember?"

"Oh, she turned blonde. You're right, Master."

Alec tenses where he is sitting on the floor. That's not what he had expected. Last time, Magnus had scened with a professional switch. But this woman pays him for his work just like Alec himself.

"She seems to like the attention," Andrew muses.

"Maybe you could play with her," Lorenzo says without heat.

"I knew that you weren't an exhibitionist when we started dating, cupcake. I don't need anyone else for that."

Alec turns his head. "You're an exhibitionist, Chief?"

"No, I'm a voyeur, but I used to show off my pets at play parties and such. But we only play for very few people to see now."

Alec chuckles silently, and Lorenzo smirks. He seems to know exactly what Alec is thinking. Yes. A sub sets the rules just like their dom. It's inside these rules that they pass the power to their dominant, and only as long as they feel good with it.

Alec turns his gaze to the stage again, and Andrew strokes a hand through his hair. "Are you alright, baby boy? You seem tense."

"Nah, I'm fine, Chief. Just glad that Seb never forced me to do something publicly."

Andrew hums. "Would you like to be seen?"

Alec shrugs. "Not exposed like this. But the thought of someone watching doesn't sound bad per se. It would just not be as interesting as this, I guess."

The sub's corsage reveals her breast by now, and Alec watches with a squishy feeling how Magnus attaches nipple clamps to them. He knows this doesn't have to be anything sexual. Magnus had put these things on him before, teased him. It was the first time that he included pain play, and Alec wonders if it was a test, or if his dom won't dare touch him with a paddle ever. He would understand. But he kinda misses the pain. Or maybe he simply misses the person who he was when he could still enjoy these things, when enduring them meant being praised afterwards, when he could still feel pride for going through a session.

He's not quite there yet with Magnus. Sure, the man can make him feel good during a scene, but the effect rubs off quickly. A scene with Seb in their early, good years could carry him for weeks, sometimes. When he was on overseas deployments, he could close his eyes and recall the good feeling, the endorphins rushing through his blood.

Somewhere along the way, Alec lost the ability to do so. He tries. He really does. He has printouts of the photos Magnus took of him during their scenes. He loves them, likes the man he sees there on more days than not. It's progress. Dr Gray told him that, again and again. But Alec just can't feel it.

Magnus works the female sub over with a riding crop. His hits are precise. He clearly has a lot of experience, knows exactly where to hit and how to handle the tool. It's not an impact toy for beginners. Sebastian had loved it, just like the cane. But he was more of a thrasher. They had to time these things for the start of vacations, so that Alec could properly heal until he had to go back to work.

He remembers the one time with the whip. A shiver works through his body that threatens to pull him under. But a strong hand pulls at his hair and forces his head to turn.

"I don't think this is good for you, baby boy."

Alec swallows and nods as much as the grip lets him. "You're right, Chief." He doesn't feel like moving, though. "Can I rest a little?"

Andrew lowers his hand to Alec's scalp and brushes through the messy hair. "But of course."

So, Alec leans his face against Andrew's thigh. He'll have to buy Lorenzo one of these expensive Belgian truffles he always raves about. He knows that Andrew is in charge when the two are in the club, but still.

The show seems to come to its big finale. But the sounds aren't triggering. Thank god for small mercies. The sub is clearly enjoying herself, and Magnus' voice barely passes the edge of the stage. He surely speaks soft encouragements into her ear, praises her with touches. A proud look of him alone can mean so much, as Alec knows just too well.

Applause signals their exit from the stage. But Alec doesn't participate. He can't watch his dom caring for another sub, can't stand the thought of her being so much better than him. It's stupid. And he knows it is. But it's how he feels. He should really talk about this with his therapist.

Alec drifts away for some time, finding Andrew's thigh and hand relaxing. He hears him and Lorenzo talking above him with someone else, but the words don't register.

He probably dozes off with the hypnotising caresses on his scalp, but when he awakes and turns his gaze up, he's pierced by chocolate eyes. They are warm as always, but there is something in them that Alec can't quite read.

"Good evening, Sir," he greets, pulling away from Andrew and into a more proper position.

"Did my sleeping beauty finally awake?"

Alec blushes. This isn't a scene, they are in public. And still, Magnus refers to him as his. It's probably just a slip of tongue or out of habit. Maybe he calls all his returning clients that. It doesn't matter. It feels good. Alec wants to belong to him.

He scans for the other sub in the club and finds her at the bar, chatting with someone who's likely a dom. Has he been out so long or doesn't she need as much aftercare as him? Does Magnus ever get jealous?

"Did you like the show?" Magnus asks, and it takes a moment for Alec to realise that he was caught staring.

"Haven't seen all of it, Sir. I'm sorry"

Magnus' eyes narrow, concern tinting their beauty. "Did it trigger you?"

Alec shakes his head. "Wish it would've been me. Not there…" He gestures in the stage's direction. "But in general."

A smile grows on Magnus' face. He looks proud. "You think you're ready?"

Is that a thrill of anticipation suddenly burning in Magnus' eyes? Whatever it is, it sends shivers down Alec's spine. He leaves Andrew's side and knee-walks to Magnus' feet. "Would you spank me next time, Sir?"

Magnus weaves his hand through Alec's messy hair. "If that's what you want, sweet boy, it will be my pleasure."

Chapter Text

Alec would lie if he said the last five days hadn't been the most anticipation driven of his life. In every spare minute, he was thinking about their next session, counting the days like a child before Christmas.

It's not that he isn't worried about what might happen. But the thrill of the unknown, the knowledge of passing a line which just two years ago seemed uncrossable—it's enough to steal his sleep and make him do stupid things. Like going into a sex shop and buying the first jockstrap of his life.

He can feel the rough denim of his jeans rubbing against his bare butt cheeks as he paces in front of the club, way too early to get inside, too pumped up with adrenaline to simply sit down at the bar and chat with Maia over a mocktail.

What was he thinking? Magnus will probably have a laughing fit. It's silly, but changing into his cotton briefs that he brought for the way home seems stupid, too.

Time moves slowly like molasses, and Alec is short of throwing in the towel. Now that the appointment time creeps closer, his anticipation turns into slight anxiety, but not so badly that he's going to cancel. No. He wants this. If only to prove to himself that Sebastian hasn't broken him beyond repair.

Still. His brain is running a thousand miles a minute. What if the impact play triggers him? What if he likes the spanking too much and comes? What if he hates it with every fibre of his being and needs to safeword?

Alec clenches and unclenches his hands, forcing his feet to stop still for a moment and his thoughts to draw smaller circles.

It's what Dr Gray taught him to do when anxiety threatens to get the better of him. What is the worst that could happen? Magnus is good at his job. He'd pull him off the edge if he were to spiral. His dom wouldn't judge him for using his safeword either. And an orgasm is simply a physical reaction. The sub on stage had one, too. It's nothing to be ashamed of, even if they are only playing non-sexually.

He's here to learn, to grow, to find out what he likes in a BDSM relationship, and what he is okay with even if it's only to please his dom. He is the one who wants to leave years of faux D/s behind, to learn to be a good and healthy submissive. He wants to replace the whole toxicity that surrounded Sebastian's lead with good practice. He came to recode himself. And it's okay that he pays someone to do what he wouldn't trust a boyfriend with. Not yet. Not that there was anyone in sight who would even want to go out with him in a vanilla context. He's probably not much fun to be around.

Alec's breathing evens out as he focuses on his reasons to be here. This is Magnus. His kind and professional dom. He won't laugh at him because he tried to wear something that will hide his private parts but exposes the flesh that is about to be reddened.

He nods to himself and enters the club, raising a hand to greet Raphael who's servicing the door. "I thought you would never come in," he smirks.

Alec chuckles. "Pushing boundaries today. More than usual."

Raphael nods in understanding. "You've got the right dom for that."

Alec shakes his head in agreement. "Self-experience?" he can't help but ask.

"Probably," Raphael smirks. "Have fun."

Alec isn't sure if fun will be what he's having, but he kinda likes the grumpy man that never mentioned his strange behaviour in the corridor a few weeks ago. He probably knows that Magnus dealt with it well. Alec pushes away the thought of the two scening together and walks to Magnus' room.

He knocks on the door and waits until it's opened. Magnus smiles at him warmly. His sleeves are rolled up to his elbows, and Alec fights hard to pull his gaze away from his forearms. No man should be allowed to be this sexy. Yes, maybe Alec has a tiny thing for this part of a man's body. Sue him.

He steps in and his eyes fall on a new piece of furniture in the room—a vault horse. Butterflies flutter nervously through Alec's stomach. He had fantasised about many positions Sir might spank him in—his lap, shackled to the St Andrew's cross, but something like this wasn't on his mind. His dom is always good for a surprise.

Magnus makes the undress sign, and Alec hurries to comply. Heat rises into his cheeks when he opens his jeans. He takes a deep breath before he pushes them down, carefully avoiding meeting Magnus' eyes. Whatever he might see there, he knows he couldn't handle it.

"Very thoughtful," Sir praises, and a weight lifts off Alec's heart.

"Thank you, Sir," he replies and sends a shy smile in his dom's direction before he finishes folding his jeans and socks.

Another steadying breath and he turns to face Magnus and gets into the soldier stance. His dom circles him, fingers trailing in the air over Alec's skin. It's electric, the near touch, the anticipation. Today, Magnus will touch his body in ways he hasn't before. How no one ever has. The thought of Magnus being the first is grounding. There's no one in the world Alec would like to try it for more than this man.

Magnus finishes his usual welcome routine with him, the questions so familiar by now that they set Alec's mind on the right path already. It's probably why Sir does it.

Magnus leads him to the vault horse and tells him to lean across it. For a second, Alec wonders why Magnus chose this furniture, but then he decides not to overthink something for once. The top of the horse is comfortably padded, and with his limbs bound, Alec relaxes into it easily. The ropes fixing his wrists and ankles to the four legs of the horse feel familiar, and Alec thanks Sir for not using cuffs.

"I know you prefer rope, darling boy," Magnus says. Alec can hear the smile in his voice.

The dominant puts a grounding hand on the small of Alec's back. The position is weird. With his ass up in the air, Alec feels exposed like never before. He misses the holding knots whenever Magnus put him into a similar position during a shibari scene. But he doesn't have long to ponder about it as Magnus rubs his bottom, and soon enough, the first smack lands on his butt.

It's not too painful, just the first of several warm-up slaps. Quiet noises fall from Alec's lips. It's more from the movement than anything else. Alec always had a rather high pain tolerance.

The next few spanks come in quicker succession, and the pain grows in intensity. It's still endurable, but Alec loses the ability to properly think about it rather quickly.

His ass starts burning after an uncounted amount of blows, the dull smart accentuated by the sting of the following spanks.

Alec's noises become louder, grunts and moans falling from his lips unchecked. The tiny amount of control melts away within seconds, and Alec's brain logs out. He processes the pain, but the rest of the world fades into the background. There is only his butt and Sir's hand, their points of contact, like the surf washing over the beach and receding, just to return again.

It's not subspace, but it's beautifully quiet in his head. Alec had forgotten what a wonderful land pain could be, how weirdly soothing, the burn taking away all other unwanted sensations and distracting thoughts.

He barely registers when Magnus swaps his hand with a paddle, working him over in precise and artful flicks of his hand. The sting is different, but just as good. Alec gets lost in the feeling, only absent-mindedly answering Magnus' check-ins. There are no tears, no sobs, no begging to stop. He wants this. He didn't know how much he needed it until he had it. All the times they played, it helped Alec scratch the itch, made him flow frequently, helped him to trust and enjoy the submission. But this is different. Not better, just even closer to what he craves, at least sometimes.

His body is hypersensitive, every cell on high alert. He feels Magnus' hand rubbing circles into the small of his back whenever he pauses the assault on his butt. He hears the praises and encouragements, but he's too out to even wonder if they are the same Magnus told his sub on stage.

"Thank you," Alec slurs when Magnus changes to a paddle with holes, the impact even harder without the air cushion of a solid one.

"Thank you," he repeats with every blow, unprompted, until his throat grows too dry to speak anymore.

After minutes or hours, the spanks subside, and a cooling lotion is gently rubbed into his crimson flesh. Then, sure fingers undo the ties, and strong arms lift him off the horse and carry him to the bed. Alec is floating. It's different to his relaxation into bonds, it's more like flying, and Sir is his pilot, safely landing him on cool sheets.

The rough fabric of Sir's jeans sends shivers through his body as Magnus spoons him from behind. Alec doesn't care. He was brave. He trusted. And he was able to enjoy what he missed for so long.

Chapter Text

"Magnus wants you to wait at the bar," Raphael tells Alec with a smirk. "Maia has further instructions for you."

Alec nods his thanks and walks over to the barkeeper, who greets him with a wide grin. He knows that something is up. Magnus has planned something big for today. It was the first time that Alec got instructions for preparations before the scene. He should eat easily digestible food, should keep hydrated in the 24 hours leading up to their appointment, be well-rested, and bring a change of clothes.

The latter, Alec always does. But he often forgets to drink at work, and food sometimes is more on the fast-food side of nutrition than whole food. So, maybe it's just Magnus taking care of him in another way. It's not unusual for doms to put up rules for outside of scenes, and maybe they are at the stage of advancing into that territory. They've been scening for nearly a year now, after all.

Maia puts a carafe of water in front of him, and they make small talk for a while. The starting time of their session passes, and Alec looks at his watch. Magnus has never run late. Not even once.

"Can I ask you something personal?" Alec asks.

"Sure. Shoot."

Alec likes Maia. They often talk when he comes. She's the kind of person he'd like to meet outside the club. She's funny and smart. But she also gets paid to be nice to him, so…

"Are you just working here or are you part of the community?"

She smiles. "Both. But I usually go to a dungeon in Queens."

"Cool," Alec says, pondering briefly if he should go to the loo. But Magnus left clear instructions for him to wait at the bar, and he can hardly leave his dom waiting, even if the man is already 20 minutes late. "Are you a sub or…?"

Maia cackles as she dries a glass. "Both. I'm a switch."

Alec's brows hit his hairline. "Really? I always thought switches are a myth."

"I may be fabulous, but I'm pretty much real," she smirks.

Alec smiles at her, abashed. "I couldn't imagine domming someone. It would feel wrong."

"And that's fine. It's a bit like sexuality, you know? Some like girls, some like boys, and some like both." She shrugs.

"Makes sense. And one isn't less bi just because they are dating someone of another gender."

"That's correct," she says and moves to fill up his glass again.

"No, thanks, I had enough."

Maia shakes her head. "You'll need all the liquids you can get today."

"So, you know what Sir is about to do with me?"

"I have a hunch," she says, grinning.

Alec raises an eyebrow. What might Magnus do with him that'll make him sweat so much? Thrilling anticipation bolts through his body. He loves the moment of surprise. Magnus knows his yes and nos, so Alec only seldom has an idea of what's going to happen. But Magnus has never been off the mark.

"Your dom is ready," Maia says. "Have fun."

Alec doesn't ask her how she knows that. He empties his glass and takes a deep breath. Showtime.

When he enters Magnus' room, the first thing that catches his eye is the cushioned armchair standing in the middle of the room on top of a rug. Both items Alec has never seen before. The armchair looks even more luxurious than the others in the room, probably an antiquity.

Magnus turns graciously as he always does and gives him a radiant smile. Butterflies swarm through Alec's stomach. He has long lost the fight against them. It doesn't matter how often he tried to suppress them, how often he dissected their professional relationship with his therapist. He's in love with his dom, and these feelings are okay. It's a safe way to have a crush because nothing will ever come out of it. And that's okay, too. The mere fact that he can love again is a miracle. Or not. He worked hard on himself to reach this point. And even though it's difficult sometimes to keep the truth in, it's still something joyful. One day, it will taper off for sure.

"Sit down, Alexander. We're playing a little game today."

Alec furrows his brow. He's not supposed to undress? That's unusual.

He sets his duffle bag down next to the bed and takes his place on the softly padded chair. The wood of the armrest is cool under his fingers, and the padded backrest clings comfortably to his shirt.

Magnus gives him a moment to settle in, then binds his arms and legs to the chair. Only now, Alec realises how perfectly this big chair fits his body. He feels exposed, unable to close his thighs or adjust his pants that feel a little restrictive already. He also feels a dull pressure on his bladder. He shouldn't have drunk the whole carafe of water. But Maia had insisted, and it was clear that the order came straight from his dom.

His dom who brings him another bottle of water, rosewater scented. Alec stares at it. It's not a small one, one litre at least. Magnus smiles down at him. "Be a good boy and drink that," he says and holds the bottle close to his lips.

"Sir, I'm well hydrated," Alec says, realising that he already is in need of the bathroom, and their scene has just begun.

"I know. You've been a good boy for me. But I insist."

The praise and order make Alec's mind a little dizzy. He knows he has to follow his dom's demand, but hell, he really hopes the sweating part will start soon.

He parts his lips in a silent answer, and it's worth the widening smile adorning his dom's face. He empties the bottle as fast as he can and watches how Magnus takes place on a chaise longue, draping himself over it like a cat. He looks like a black panther, majestic, probing, and still relaxed.

Alec squirms under his gaze. But that was a rather stupid idea. His bladder protests.

"Sir? May I ask what we are going to do today?"

"But of course, darling boy. You will prove to me that you can hold it in and won't stain this beautiful Victorian armchair."

Alec's eyes grow wide. Victorian? That means the chair is over 100 years old. His bladder suddenly feels like bursting any second. He tightens his muscles as best as he can. He doubts that cleaning this chair would come cheap.

Magnus smiles at him warmly. "I know that you can do it, Alexander. Will you be a good boy for me and keep this chair safe?"

Alec lets out a noise. It sounds foreign to his ears, like not one of his own. It's a squeak that might be an affirmation, but maybe it's just a noise of quiet distress. Magnus nods anyway and takes a book from the coffee table.

Alec tries to read the title to concentrate on anything but the elephant in the room. It seems to be a textbook. 'The Challenge of Pain.' Very fitting. Surely not an easy topic, especially while watching a sub squirming against the restraints on a 19th-century chair, threatened to be flooded.

"You're doing so well, sweet boy," Magnus says after a while. He takes in his sub's red face and screwed up features. Every muscle in Alec's body seems to be pulled taut.

Alec, silent until now, starts whimpering. "It's difficult, Sir," he presses out.

"I know. And your struggle pleases me very much."

Alec's whimpers don't stop, the pressure on his bladder increasing more and more. He needs a toilet urgently.

"How much longer, Sir?" he whines.

"I still have a bit to read. Do you think you could keep it down a little? It's truly hard to concentrate with the beautiful noises you're making."

Beautiful noises. Alec would laugh if he weren't sure that this would be counterproductive for his cause.

"I… I can't, Sir."

"Alright."

Alec breathes a sigh of relief when Magnus gets up. But his dom doesn't walk to him to loosen the ropes. No. He walks to the sideboard and takes his phone. Alec learns that the room has a sound system installed, the pelting of rain in a forest suddenly filling the space.

"White noise," Magnus says. "It always helps me concentrate."

Alec whimpers even more, and Magnus raises the volume. Such a bastard!

He lies down again and continues reading his book. Now and then, he looks up and checks on Alec, telling him praises and asking if he wants to use his safeword.

Alec is contemplating it, but his stubbornness wins every time. He can hold it a little longer. He won't wet himself like a baby. He can do this. And if it's only to avoid humiliation.

Sweat breaks out on Alec's forehead, and soon enough, his clothes are stained in several places. Only the front of his pants is still dry. But minute by minute, Alec fears it won't stay that way for much longer.

Magnus puts his book down and looks at him intensely. Alec relaxes a little in response, regretting it immediately when a tiny spurt of urine leaks out of him.

"Could you…? The rain. Please, stop, Sir," he barely manages.

Magnus complies, and another squirt leaves Alec's straining body. He whines.

"You can safeword anytime, sweet boy," Magnus coos. Alec wants to punch him into his perfect, beautiful face. Not really, but he feels the urge to protest his commands, to question his orders. His dom has edged him in various ways before, but this is a whole other ball game. Does he want him to break? Does he want to see if Alec will draw a line at some point?

Oh, he won't give him this satisfaction. He's a Lightwood. Lightwoods break noses and accept the consequences. He won't piss himself and ruin this stupid Victorian armchair. He won't break. He will prove to his dom that he is disciplined and strong. Until the point when his body betrays him and gives out if need be.

His face shows his determination. "I won't," he says, his lips forming a strained grin.

Magnus looks proudly at him. "Good boy. So strong for me."

And for myself, Alec thinks. It's a new thought, surprising in his radical simplicity. When did the urge to please his dom twinned with the urge to make himself proud in the process?

Alec screws his eyes shut, every fibre of his body determined to contract his urethral sphincters.

A new sound is reaching his ears, once more rain flooding the room. He squints at his dom, who moves a rainmaker with relish. "It's from Chile. I bought it on holiday," he says. "I'm much more talented with it than with the charango, I was told."

Alec frowns at him, eyes angry. Magnus chuckles. "You look delicious, Alexander. I've never seen anyone holding out so long. Such a good boy."

Alec shakes his head. "I can't…"

Sir is up from his chaise longue and down on his knee in front of Alec in a second, hands rooming soothingly over his shoulders before he cups his cheeks.

"You can't what, darling boy?"

"Hold any…" Alec swallows hard. This is embarrassing, despite the fire burning in every muscle of his body.

"Say it," Magnus coos. Alec shakes his head. "It's okay. Say red, and it's over. You can do it, Alexander."

Alec really wants to hold out longer, wants to reach whatever invisible goal Magnus has in mind. Because Sir always has. He never sets him up for failure, no matter how challenging the task.

Alec shakes his head again, but his body starts ignoring his will. The stain on front of his pants grows a little, not much, but still.

"Yellow," he whispers in defeat. It doesn't make much sense. They can't slow down, can't wait out his predicament.

"Such a brave boy," Magnus says. "You can let go now."

Alec opens his eyes. "Can't… Sir, the chair."

Magnus smiles at him, carding a gentle hand through his hair before it cups the back of his neck. "It's just a replica. It can be cleaned easily, and the rug as well."

Alec's face relaxes, but he still compels his body into submission.

"It's okay, Alexander. Let go for me." Alec looks at him pleadingly. "You have my permission. It's better than it happening on the way to the bathroom. Do you trust me with this?" Alec nods, whimpering quietly. Magnus presses a gentle kiss to Alec's forehead, and the sub hides his face in his dom's shoulder as he does as told.

Relief washes over his body as he relaxes his muscles, the warm liquid soaking through his pants, running down the sides of the chair when the cushion beneath him is soaked. There is so much urine. Alec once learnt the capacity of the human bladder. He wouldn't be able to name it with his brain going peacefully blank after an eternity of focus and struggle.

He hears Magnus' praise at the periphery of his awareness, feels the ropes being untied, he being pulled off the chair, and Magnus pushing the chair away. It's all happening in a fog. Magnus removes his clothes from behind and wraps him into a bath towel. He waits outside the shower while Alec cleans himself, and looks away as he offers him a fresh towel. He leads him back to the room, both armchair and rug already cleared away, sandalwood candles filling the room with a pleasant scent.

Magnus manoeuvres Alec onto the bed and into his arms, the sub resting his head on his dom's chest.

"You're incredible, Alexander. So persistent, so full of trust. Your submission is an honour to witness, much more to receive."

Alec giggles. "I pissed myself for the first time since I was three."

"And how did it feel?"

Alec thinks for a moment, his mind distracted by the soothing circles that Magnus paints on his back. "Like surrender and victory, all at once."

Magnus chuckles. "That's a perfect definition of submission, don't you think?"

Alec hums in agreement.

Chapter Text

Alec eyes the door of playroom one for a long moment before he knocks three times, as he was instructed to do. It's a strange feeling, but it was the right decision. He's sure of that. After scening weekly for nearly a year, going without a single session for a whole month didn't seem like a good idea. So, he made an appointment with dominatrix Lydia to bridge the time that Magnus is on holiday. He didn't tell Alec more about it than the simple fact. Alec envied him a little. Four weeks off in one go? It sounded like paradise.

Their last scene is still on his mind, the power that Magnus had over him without even saying or doing much. And still, Alec was willing to fight, and something had settled inside of him. His recurring thoughts of being a fake submissive, of only being a good sub because Magnus is a soft dom—all that went out of the window.

Still, he's nervous. He's used to Magnus' style, and his dom knows him well by now. Lydia is unknown territory, even though Alec gave Magnus the green light to share some things with her to make his absence easier on his client. But what if she deems him a badly trained sub? It could fall back on Magnus. And Alec wouldn't want that.

The door opens, and Lydia greets him with a wide smile. "Hi, sweetie. Come in," she says and steps to the side.

The new name is irritating, but it's somehow better that she doesn't use the same names that Magnus does. And it sets a nice, soft tone, so there's that.

Alec has chosen Lydia for a reason. She's the furthest away from Magnus, with her blond hair and strong female body. And at the same time, she's similar enough in her techniques, being one of Magnus' first students. Choosing her seemed to have pleased his dom, too. And still, Alec can't untie the knots in his stomach.

It's good practice, though. One day, if heaven grants him that, he will have a partner to share all of this with, and no matter how perfect he and Magnus seem to work together, maybe his future dom will expect other things from him. Alec tries to see it as a test run. Not that this makes it any easier.

Lydia checks on him quite similarly to how Magnus does. A good student, indeed. She gives him time to adjust to the new surroundings, and Alec scans the room and his domme. Lydia is wearing a low cut, silky top and leather/lace pants with matching high heels. She emanates power with her perfect posture, stark make-up, and the strict ponytail. But there's also tenderness in her eyes and in her smile. Alec feels more and more at ease by the second.

"Undress and put your clothes on the bed. Then, kneel for me, knees together, arms behind your back."

Alec complies swiftly, going through the motions with ease. Lydia circles him as he tries to keep a perfect posture, and he lowers his gaze to his underwear. He frowns at the black cotton covering his crotch. Maybe he should have worn his panties today. Just for himself. Didn't Magnus say he deserved that? Too late for that now.

Lydia squats down in front of him and runs a hand through his hair, brushing her fingers over his cheek. Her touch is tender, and when he raises his gaze, he meets her open face.

"I'm going to tie you up. Have you ever been a merman, Alec?"

The sub snorts a laugh. "No." He closes his jaws with an audible click when he realises how disrespectful that sounded. "I'm sorry, my Queen."

Lydia chuckles. "You're forgiven, sweetheart. But I think I need to help you hold your tongue."

Alec has a déjàvu. All these months of training and discipline for nothing.

"Yes, my Queen. Thank you," he offers ruefully.

Lydia smiles at him and rummages through the dresser. Alec wonders which kind of gags the domme might prefer. He frowns at the item she brings back.

Lydia raises an amused eyebrow. "Never been gagged with stockings, weren't you?" Alec shakes his head. "Good. I like being the first." It sounds like a sexual innuendo. It probably is. "No worries, sweetie. I don't bite. Not my clients, at least." She winks at him, and Alec chuckles, the tension melting out of his body.

She guides the stockings between his lips and pulls them into a tight knot. "Mmh. Better," she smirks.

With sure hands, she ties his arms behind his back in a Takate Kote, then moves to his legs and binds them together. Alec once saw this in a shibari course. The woman who demonstrated it looked lovely with it. But he? With his hairy legs? But it's not his place to point this out. If his domme wants to turn him into a merman, it's what she wants. Alec just hopes that she won't feminise him with shell-shaped nipple stickers or something.

But she doesn't. She likely went through his contract with Magnus. The thought warms his heart. Every single dom:me he met since entering the BDSM community took care of him. Sometimes, his past feels lightyears away, the ghost of a memory. Alec hopes, one day, this will fully be true.

"So pretty," Lydia praises and brushes a hand through his hair. "I heard you like photographs."

Alec nods. He truly does. Not outside of a scene, but he likes the reminder of his growth, of what he dared to do. The pics can carry him through rough patches.

Lydia gets up and picks a blanket from the drawer, shimmering in green and blue sequins, like the ocean on a sunny day. She drapes it around him before she removes the stocking gag.

She cleans his face from saliva and ruffles his hair. "Such a handsome merman," she praises, and Alec blushes fiercely. He swallows the protest bubbling up his throat. She's just being nice.

Then, she grabs Alec's phone and takes pictures of him, moves him this or that way as if he were a professional shibari model. She sits down next to him and shows them to him, all the while running a soothing hand over his side as if she felt his inner fight between really, really liking how he looks, and the way he was raised a 'proper' man is supposed to look like.

"Why the furrowed brow, sweetie?" Lydia asks softly. "You do look beautiful."

Alec shakes his head. "Beautiful is for women."

The domme straightens next to him. "Says who?"

"Society. My parents." He shrugs as far as his bound arms allow.

Lydia hums in understanding. "Today, you are my sub. And I tell you, you're a beautiful merman." She trails her fingers over the ropes binding his legs. "What do you think is beautiful about you, sweetheart?"

The question squeezes his throat shut like a physical force. "Nothing," he croaks.

She tilts her head to the side. "Nothing?" He shakes his head. She worries her lip, then guides him to his front. She takes the by now dry stockings and binds them over his eyes. Her hand lands between his shoulder blades, a grounding presence in the choppy sea that Lydia's question threw him into.

"I want you to find five positive things about your body, and five things about your personality that you like yourself or that you believed when others told them to you."

Alec groans against the carpet. Lydia's pressure on his back heightens, and he can feel the rope pressing firmer into his chest. It's far from comfortable.

"I'm reliable," he says. She hums in approval. "I'm strong." Alec takes a deep breath and tries to pull his legs apart. The rope is a welcoming constriction, making him dip into himself more easily.

"I'm loyal and efficient. I am organised and protective."

The pressure on his back subsides. "Well done. Now, four more physical attributes." She grabs the back of the mermaid tie and lifts his legs. Alec gasps in surprise, his breath coming unevenly for a long moment. Will she only let him down if he answers? Probably.

"I can wait, sweetheart," she says and pulls his legs up even further.

"I'm…" he trails off. Damn! Why is this so difficult? "Buff," he presses out. "A-and I was complimented for the shape of my ass."

Lydia gives him a ringing laugh. "That's true."

Alec chuckles a little breathless. Two more. He can find two more. He has to.

"Eyes?"

"What about them?"

"They're nice."

"That's not good enough, sweetie. You can do better." Lydia pulls the rope running around his chest taut, forcing Alec to arch his back, fighting for breath once more.

"They are… be-beautiful." She lets his torso down again.

"One more," the domme orders, tugging on his hair, a sharp sting flooding his senses.

"Resilient. My body is resilient," he hisses. The grip loosens and morphs to a caress over his scalp.

"Well done, my little prince." She manoeuvres him into her arms, careful not to strain any part of his body. "You see. So beautiful, inside and out."

She removes the stockings from his eyes but Alec keeps his eyes shut and nestles against her chest. She smells sweet. Nothing like Magnus, but still. Her arms are safe, and only her truth exists in the air between them.

Alec is beautiful.

Chapter Text

"Hello, Alexander."

Alec can barely breathe, seeing Magnus leaning against the sideboard as he steps into his room. One month of being apart did nothing to reduce his crush on his dom. If anything, it's even bigger now.

Magnus gives him the sign to step in front of him and cups his neck, piercing him with his chocolate brown gaze. "Have you been a good boy for the Queen?"

Alec nods, too worried that his voice might betray what his schooled features barely hide.

"I knew you would." Magnus brushes a hand through Alec's hair. The sub feels the urge to kiss him. God, he missed his dom so much, no matter how good he felt after scening with Lydia.

He goes to his knees when Magnus points to the floor, and kisses the 'M' ring on his hand. It's not enough, but better than nothing.

"I missed you, too, Sir," he confesses. A small smile plays on Magnus' lips, but looking up, Alec can't help but see that his eyes look tired. "Are you alright, Sir?"

Magnus blinks down at him. "Why wouldn't I be?"

"Jetlag?" Alec guesses.

His dom chuckles. "I wasn't gone, my darling boy."

Alec furrows his brow. Four weeks in the city? There's surely enough to do in New York, but Magnus loves to travel, so much, Alec knows about him.

"Oh." Alec feels stupid now. He had wondered where Magnus might have travelled to, thought of lazy beach days and exciting sightseeing adventures all around the globe. He really shouldn't think so much about the man he pays for spending a few hours a month with him.

His dom's fingers curl in his hair, and the familiar intoxication by everything Magnus seeps into Alec until it settles in his very bones.

"What does my good boy need today?" Magnus asks, and it's clear by the tone of his voice that he doesn't expect an answer. A shiver runs through Alec. He hasn't been called 'good' for a full month now. Sure, Lydia said other nice things about him, but it's simply not the same.

"Oh, I know." A radiant smile blooms on Magnus' face, and Alec can't help but return it.

Magnus puts the cooling pads on the nightstand and throws the rope to the side. Cradling his sub in his arms, he pulls the comforter over both of them.

"You were perfect, Alexander. So beautiful."

Alec giggles, still bathing in the fuzziness left over from a combined rope and impact scene that pushed him to his limits.

"What's so funny, darling?" Magnus asks, amusement lacing his voice.

"You always call me that."

"What? Beautiful?"

Alec snickers again. "The Queen said the same."

"Did she, now? Well, I'd say that she has good eyes, and that you must have been a very good boy for her."

Alec hums. Magnus raises an eyebrow in surprise. Usually, Alec deflects or stays silent. Agreement? That's new.

"Of course you were. You are always so good for me. You respect my authority, and still, you respect your own boundaries, too. I can trust you, and you give me your trust." He brushes a hand through Alec's hair, caresses his cheek. "You always give your best, and you suffer so beautifully, just to please me."

"'s no suffering."

Magnus chuckles. "So, you enjoy crawling now?" Alec shakes his head. "And still, you do it. Just for me."

"Mmh."

"Oh, how I missed my sweet boy and his floaty monosyllabic answers."

"'s your fault. You're too good." Alec giggles and buries his face in Magnus' neck. Oh, how he missed his scent. No sandalwood product could replace it. Alec has tried. Candles, soaps, incense sticks—nothing was quite right. But it was worth Jace's teasing about him going New Age. He hadn't the chutzpah to tell him the truth, though. His brother will probably never know that he's a sub and in love with his professional dom.

Dr Gray knows. And she's not pressuring him in any way, says a close emotional connection is what is to be expected between a dom and a sub, the whole power exchange thing a clear set up to build deep trust and a close relationship of sorts. She encouraged him to be open about his feelings with Magnus. But he'd rather pine forever than lose the best dom he ever had. Lydia was great. They'd work well if he returned. He knows that. But Alec doesn't want it. He wants this. Closeness with a man he adores, in and outside his work. If they had only met earlier and under other circumstances… But these thoughts are futile.

"A dominant is only ever as good as their submissive lets them be, Alexander. You teach me so many things. Things I didn't know about myself. And all because you let me train you, follow my guidance. You're so incredibly good."

The praise makes Alec squirm in Magnus' arms. "You disagree, darling?"

"'m not good. Just following your orders."

Magnus pulls back enough to look at Alec's face. "That's your job. You wouldn't be a good submissive if you didn't at least try."

"True," Alec giggles.

"Oh, today, you're really out of it, aren't you?"

Alec nods, a shy smile adorning his face. "I'm so happy you're back, Magnus."

His dom lets the slip slide. He holds Alec for a long while, and his sub enjoys it until the circles on his back fade out. Alec pulls back and looks at Magnus' face. He looks even more tired now. Alec can't remember a single aftercare that Magnus' eyes weren't steadily on him. But now, they are closed, and despite the weariness that is forged into every line on his face—old and new one Alec discovers alike—he's still so beautiful that it makes Alec's heart ache.

"Sir?" Magnus hums in response. Alec pushes himself up and hisses when his bottom hits the mattress. Magnus' eyes are opened now, his lips parted, ready to speak. "Shh," Alec says. "You need to drink and eat something."

Magnus chuckles. "That's my line, Alexander."

"Who says a sub can't take care of their dominant? I think you exerted yourself enough for one day."

Magnus stares at him as Alec leans over him and grabs the juice bottle from the nightstand. "You should drink, Sir." He holds the opened bottle to his lips, and Magnus complies.

After he drank half, Alec grabs his usual energy bar and breaks it into little pieces, hand feeding them to his dom, who looks better, second by second.

The bottle gets emptied quickly, and Alec grabs the second for himself, all under his dom's careful, unreadable gaze. Then, he snuggles up to Magnus again, much more holding his dom than his dom holding him. It feels right that way.

"Thank you, my sweet boy," Magnus whispers. "You're truly the best."

Chapter Text

Kneeling between Magnus' legs is a privilege. Alec knows that. It's also grounding, like the hand running through his hair as Magnus lets him lean against his thigh, one cheek burning by the contact with the rough denim, the other slightly cooler, exposed to the open air. It's not really cold, even if Alec only wears his midnight blue satin shorts that Magnus requested for today. Alec could stay like this forever, probably. He wouldn't care that his knees would hurt like a bitch the next shift. He'd feel fully owned, and that's a good thing in Alec's book.

But Sir seems to have other plans for today than pushing Alec to stay still for as long as possible with his hands clasped behind his back. He grabs a tuft of hair and tilts Alec's head back, beholding his sub for a while. "Such a good boy. I wanna show you off to the world. Let them see how perfect you are."

Alec blushes at the praise, but then, his face loses all colour. Because there they are, just inside his field of vision—a collar and a leash.

His heartbeat speeds up immediately. 'No pet play,' he had said at their very first meeting. At that point, he had felt less worthy than a dog, anyway. And the appeal of rolling on your back, nuzzling other pets' cheeks, or mimicking other animalistic behaviour, Alec never understood. Not even Lorenzo could get him to try, even though it's one of the other sub's favourite plays. Maybe it's just a speed ramp on a road leading to something Alec would truly dig, but he's not strong enough to dissect why his aversion is so intense. It simply is.

Magnus grabs his chin, and the slight pain shocks Alec out of his spiralling thoughts. "Where did your mind stray?" the dom asks.

Alec's eyes flicker to the leash. Magnus would never touch a red item on his list of kinks, would he?

"I—" He takes a deep breath. Sir always waits him out when he's struggling with words. He trusts him to voice what's important. No pressure there.

"I'm not a pet," Alec croaks after what feels like minutes.

Magnus tilts his head to the side, eyes warm and probing as his hand brushes through Alec's hair again. "No, you're not. You are my brave boy."

Brave.

Is that what today is about? Being brave? He needn't be for a while. Sure, Magnus pushes him, again and again, but Alec always feels safe, seen, heard. He can't help the anxiety swirling through his stomach, sucking the air out of his lungs.

"What… what has Sir planned for today?" he barely manages to press out.

Magnus smiles at him tenderly, the softness easing some of the tension threatening to pull Alec under. "Just a little stroll through the club. Can you do that for me?"

Alec glances at the leash again. God, he should be elated that Magnus will put a collar around his neck for the very first time, but he can't get the picture of himself in a muzzle out of his head.

"Shh, everything's fine, darling. Breathe with me." Magnus takes his hand and puts it over his heart, the thrum soothingly steady, just like the breaths that raise and lower his ribs.

Alec nods. "I'm fine." He takes a ragged breath. "I'm fine, Sir."

There are the fingers on his chin again, pushing him to meet his dom's eyes. "Are you? You know I hate lying."

Alec nods. "Yes, Sir. Just caught in my head."

Magnus nods in understanding. "Just the collar and the leash. Nothing more, Alexander."

Alec breathes out in relief. "Thank you, Sir."

"I would never do anything we haven't agreed on."

"I know, Sir." He does. But it's good to get it confirmed anyway.

Magnus gives him the sign to straighten and then, he pushes slightly against his shoulder to make him knee walk back a little. Alec loves that they are so attuned by now that words often aren't needed.

"I will put the collar on you, and you'll be my good boy, following me where my leash leads you. You'll be on your knees and hands and remain silent unless I give you other instructions. Understood?"

Alec nods and worries his lip. That doesn't sound too bad. Sure, the club is full on a Friday night. But that means there will be more submissives on the ground walking on all fours. It will be a little humiliating, but he's here to be pushed, not to be coddled all the time.

"Yes, Sir. But I can safeword." It's not a question. He knows he can. He truly does, now that Sir pushed him to do it once. He'd been so proud of him.

"But, of course, Alexander."

The leather of the collar is soft around his neck when Magnus closes the buckle and runs his fingers over it, smiling fondly. For a second, Alec can believe this is real, permanent. That he's wearing Magnus' collar, with no one else sharing this privilege. But then, his brain goes online again, and he shakes off the pictures of his dream from long ago. He'll always be just a client for Sir, and it needs to be enough.

Magnus fastens the leash to the D-ring at the collar and tugs on it. It's a strange feeling, but not suffocating. "Are you ready?" he asks, searching for something in Alec's crimson burning face. The sub nods silently and suffers through another stretch of being thoroughly considered.

His dom nods after a while and gets up in one smooth motion. Not for the first time, Alec thinks that Magnus moves like a dancer, fluent and graceful. Has he been a stripper before he became a professional dom? His straying thoughts shoot another wave of heat into Alec's cheeks and ears. 'Get a grip!' he scolds himself.

A pull on the leash lets Alec forget it anyway. He may not be a pet, but he's a slave tonight. At least, that's what Alec always associated with the term. Sebastian loved to let him crawl, like the human dross that he was. But Magnus has trained with him, showed him that the position signals his status but not his worth. It's not half as embarrassing and unsettling as it used to be. Until the door to the playroom opens, that is.

Crawling over the threshold is a challenge all of its own. Everyone will see him near-naked, scars and tattoos widely on display. He's thankful that Magnus chose the most covering of his panties. Probably because he knew. Gratitude spreads through Alec's chest, molten and warm. It makes him forget the challenge for a long moment, and before he even realises it, they enter the common space of the club.

Alec is convinced that his head resembles a tomato by now. His neck and chest are a deep pink for sure. Magnus walks through the club as if he owns it. Doms give him nods of respect, and single subs bow their heads. Alec only sees it out of the corner of his eye, too busy keeping the right pacing behind his dom's feet.

Magnus wears the expensive boots that Alec once licked clean, and a strange feeling of accomplishment settles in Alec's heart.

"Such a well-trained sub, Magnus," an Englishman says above him. Thankfully, his voice sounds way different than Sebastian's. Is it the dom Alec had put on his shortlist? Maybe. He doesn't dare to look.

"Thank you, my dear little cabbage. He truly is. A little shy in public, as it seems. But he's the best submissive I ever had."

Pet play aversion or not—Alec pricks up his ears at that. He's not one to preen, but this sentence sounded so sincere. The butterflies it elicits nearly knock him off his knees. Why would Sir lie to someone who is clearly more than an acquaintance?

Alec peaks up and finds black eyes looking down at him. He diverts his gaze immediately. Yes, it's Master Shade. Is he a switch? Did Magnus scene with him and is allowed to use his pet name in public despite being a dom this evening?

"May I touch him?" Ragnor asks, and Alec can see a flicker of unsureness flash over Magnus' face. His dom swallows hard, then agrees with a silent nod.

Alec steels himself. The other dom doesn't know his limits, does he? Do the professionals swap stories? No, they surely don't. Magnus asked for his permission regarding Lydia. But that means that Ragnor…

A gentle hand cards through his hair and trails over his cheek to his chin, pushing it up tenderly. Master Shade smiles at him so warmly and beholds him with a softness that is deeply unsettling. "I can see what you mean. Well-trained and a natural beauty."

Alec nearly snorts but can stop himself in the very nick of time. Contradicting a dom, in public nonetheless? That's a slippery slope. Magnus might punish him for real, or maybe even allow his friend to do it himself. And Alec isn't sure if he's ready to let a stranger hit him, much less in public.

Ragnor lets go of his chin and pats his head a few times. Then, they say their farewells. Magnus tugs on the leash, and Alec moves, trying to drown out the conversations that are physically going over his head.

He nods at some other submissives crossing his way. One of them, a burly man with cat ears, gives him a wink. Alec blushes, the exposure too strong to react as he would in everyday life. He's another person when he's with Magnus. Or maybe, he's his truest self. Who knows?

Sir leads him to a booth and motions him to kneel between his spread legs, face turned to the club. Alec leans his head against his thigh, that hypnotising hand brushing over his scalp.

"You're doing so well, my darling boy. No one is as beautiful as you in this room. See how they look at you, jealous beyond words. They all know you're mine."

A completely different kind of heat pools in Alec's stomach now as he scans the room. Magnus is right. Men and women alike are looking at him, some of them undressing him with their eyes. It feels good. Too good.

Huh.

Between Magnus' gentle touches, the restricting fabric of his panties and the gazes running over him, he feels arousal. After a year of scening with Magnus, three years after Sebastian took every last bit of his sex drive, he feels the tender burn of want.

He whimpers quietly, the sound not audible under the layers of music and conversations. He wants. He wants this. He wants to be seen, wants to be desired.

"Enjoying the attention, sweet boy?" Sir asks, amusement lacing his words. Alec ducks his head and hides his face on Magnus' thigh. His dom tsks him. "None of that. I brought you out here to be seen. Who knows? Maybe your future dom is here, looking at you right now."

Alec swallows hard. Sometimes, he forgets that this was his mission—healing and learning until a good and worthy dom might lay his eyes on him. But as nice as the eyes on him feel, he only wants one pair to look at him.

He breathes a quiet sigh. He's so screwed.

Chapter Text

Drops of sweat land on the wooden floor. They run down from Alec's glistening forehead over the bridge of his nose, ticklingly waiting there on the tip before they drip to the ground.

Alec feels every minute movement of his perspiration, the one running over his hairy chest, the drops collecting in his navel, their coolness against his heated surface, the rivers and brooks painting maps of resilience on his skin.

He can barely breathe, his diaphragm disabled by Magnus' clever, devilish knots. The sticks he's bound to don't give much room for movement, and no matter what part of his body gets a bit of relief, another needs to be strained to achieve it.

His calves and thighs are burning like fire, so do his shoulders and lungs. But nothing burns hotter than Magnus' eyes on him, holding a flame of their own, setting Alec's very soul alight.

This is torture, plain and simple—a predicament without escape but for a three-letter word or the mercy of time. And Magnus simply sits there, enjoys the view of the masterpiece he turned his sub into. Alec hates him for it. Alec loves him for it.

He can feel his whole body, from the nerveless tips of his hair to his strained toes. Every breath is shallow, doesn't seem to reach the alveoli. Still, he feels more alive than ever, fully in the moment.

He needs to close his eyes sometimes, the strain to his body hardly bearable. Yet, he opens them, again and again, searching for Magnus' and the curve of his cupid bow, the curl of his lips.

Sir talks quietly with him, soothing words sometimes too low under the sound of blood rushing through Alec's ears and the noise of his short inhales.

Praise reaches his ears, sweet words, balm for his struggling body, rewards for his stubborn spirit. He craves Magnus' touch, but it never comes, the bonds place holders, extensions of his dominant's body. Alec has resigned to Magnus' hold on him months ago. But today, he can prove his worth, can show that he deserves his guidance, lets the trust between them move back and forth.

Alec can rely on Magnus to know what he can take, and Magnus trusts him to give his very best in return. And nothing less Alec will. He fights, minutes passing by like running honey: languid, spicy, yet sweet.

"You're so beautiful like this," Magnus says, checking the circulation with practised hands and words.

Alec can't even huff. Only whines fall from his lips, quiet and high pitched. Magnus plays his body and mind like an instrument, eliciting sounds and thoughts Alec never knew could come out of him. Magnus has reduced him to a bowstring, always being pulled too taut, no matter what. But the tension feels good despite the pain—or because of it.

Magnus' smile hovers in front of his face. "Do you want it to stop?" he asks so tenderly, as if it weren't him who tied him in a squat, unable to escape.

"Want…"

He can feel Magnus' eyes narrowing down on the creases in his burning face. "What do you want, sweet boy? Tell me, and you shall receive."

Alec stares at Magnus' lips, yearning flooding his body, every cell attuned to his dominant's will. It feels like asking for too much, but Sir hasn't touched him for what feels like an eternity, and Magnus promised.

"Kiss… me."

Magnus' eyes grow wide, but then he presses a chaste kiss to Alec's temple.

Alec whines in agony. "Me," he presses out, unable to say anything else. His eyes fall shut in exhaustion and he lowers his heels, his back curving to accommodate the movement.

"You?" Magnus asks, and there is something akin to regret lacing the word.

Tears mix with sweat, but they look the same on Alec's dripping face, just salty water, draining his spirit a little more. It's stupid. Magnus has never kissed him on the lips, unlike his sub on stage. It's a ridiculous thing to ask for, a gentle touch of lips to energise his body to keep on fighting a little longer.

Alec lets out a stream of whines. He'll have to give up soon. He knows he must. He did well. Sir said so, his words the only currency of value right now, as it seems. It's a testimony to Alec's exhaustion that he voiced his greatest wish without overthinking it. He shouldn't have said it, though. It's his dom's decision if and when he's worthy of something that intimate.

Magnus grabs his chin and pushes his head up, the movement shooting from Alec's spine to his toes. He can feel Magnus' eyes scanning his face, a thumb running over his parted lips.

The smile he wants to give him ends up in a grimace. Oh, what a sight he must be. No wonder Magnus doesn't want to kiss him.

It takes a long moment, but then, lips are forcefully pressed against Alec's forehead, the pressure so close to what he truly wants, and yet further away than the moon and the stars.

Alec has given it all. There's nothing left of him. His mind gives out before his body does.

'Should've said "red",' he thinks before he falls into Magnus' arms as his dom cuts the ropes with emergency scissors.

Chapter Text

It's just. Alec knows that. He deserves this punishment. He put himself in danger by not safewording. He has a responsibility to do so. Even though Magnus realised that Alec was at his breaking point in good time and could react accordingly, the fact still stands that the submissive didn't voice it.

Alec grabs the bag with the shibari ropes a little tighter. He knows that Magnus doesn't care about them. He said so clearly when Alec apologised about a thousand times. The sub had been free-falling, spiralling after recovering his wits, and it was only due to Magnus' elaborate aftercare and frequent check-ins the days following the event that Alec didn't drop. He may have even cuddled with Izzy for a whole day, calling in sick for the very first time in his life.

His sister didn't pry much, just brought him chicken soup from his favourite Deli and her Jane Austen DVD collection. Alec loves her so friggin' much. Jane Austen and his little sister, that is.

And now, he's back again in front of Magnus' door, heart nearly beating out of his chest. He knocks tentatively, and the door opens within seconds, showing Magnus in soft clothes and with piercing eyes.

Alec swallows hard. "Good morning, Sir." He offers the bag, laying another apology into his eyes. Magnus takes the bag and looks inside, huffing a laugh.

"Alexander." It's just his name, but so softly spoken that it lifts the dread from his heart. He may be punished today for his misbehaviour, but there is no wrath, no anger. Nothing about his dom reminds him of Sebastian. Not a single thing.

"Come in. You know this wouldn't have been necessary."

"You had to destroy your material because I didn't say anything, Sir. It's the least I can do."

Magnus puts the bag on a chair and signs Alec to get ready, his eyes full of emotions that Alec doesn't want to look at too closely. He knows that this could have ended in the ER if Magnus were just half as good at his job as he is. There is a reason why he repeats the safewords every time they play. Today is no exception.

"Why did we put safewords into place?" Magnus asks, circling his kneeling submissive.

"To keep everyone safe."

Magnus hums in agreement. "And why are you being punished today, my sweet boy?"

Alec exhales raggedly. Even after fucking up big time, Magnus still calls him that. He feels like crying, but he has a hunch that the tears will fall soon enough.

"Because I didn't use them."

"That's correct. And what is the purpose of punishment, Alexander?"

Alec furrows his brow. What kind of question is that? "Penalisation, Sir. To teach me a lesson."

Magnus tugs on Alec's hair and tilts his head back. "What else?" he asks, considering Alec, who blushes.

"I— I don't know, Sir."

Magnus breathes a sigh. "How do you feel about what happened last time?"

Alec's shoulders slump forward. "Guilty. Ashamed."

The dom cards his fingers through Alec's hair. "And your punishment will erase all of it. When we're finished today, everything is forgiven and forgotten, darling. No more squeezy conscience or regrets. We'll make a clean sweep. Do you understand?"

Alec nods. That is what he loves about the framing. No bearing of grudges. He messed up, but after this scene, he's granted absolution.

"Yes, Sir. I understand."

"Good. Pick up five instruments which you think suit your transgression and I will punish you with them." Magnus gestures to the shelf with impact toys, and Alec swallows hard. What does his dom expect him to choose? The ones that hurt the most? A mix? Not that any of them won't hurt. And Alec wants to feel the pain. He inflicted some on his dom, after all. Professional or not—Magnus is a deeply caring person, and if anything, his text and voice messages over the last few days were proof that he takes his job more than seriously.

Alec decides to do this systematically from light to heavy to give Sir the full range—a leather paddle, a belt, a wooden paddle with a structured surface, and a rope flogger he takes first. His hands tremble when he reaches for the cat o'nine. He knows how nasty it is. But he can take it.

Magnus grabs his hand before he can touch it. "Alexander! I said, 'suiting your transgression'. You did nothing meriting this. And it could trigger you. My hand will suffice."

Alec looks down at his feet, cheeks burning crimson. Not even this he can do right. And after all the progress they made.

Magnus looks sternly at him. "I think you need to centre yourself before we begin. Five minutes in the corner for you." Alec complies immediately and kneels down facing the walls. At least here, he can't do anything wrong.

The minutes tick by, and when Magnus calls him, he sits at the corner of the bed. For a moment, Alec thinks Magnus will ask him to lay across his knees. But Magnus gets up, his fingers trailing over the chosen implements lying on the nightstand.

"Torso on the bed, hands behind your head. Use pillows to prop yourself up if need be," Magnus orders, and Alec hastens to get into position.

The comforter feels so soft and warm underneath, a stark contrast to the open air on his back. It's nearly comfortable, but Alec knows that it won't stay that way for long.

"I expect you to safeword if it gets too much, Alexander." Alec frowns. This is a punishment. Opting out doesn't make much sense. "I don't want to pick you up off the floor again," Magnus warns. "Punishment or not—you can and are supposed to use your safewords."

Alec swallows hard. "Yes, Sir."

"Good boy."

Goosebumps run over Alec's body when Magnus pulls the back of his panties down and starts massaging his butt to warm the skin a little before the first spank hits.

It's different this time, shame and embarrassment curling in Alec's stomach instead of the usual anticipation of emotional release.

Magnus' hand is quickly replaced by the leather paddle before he works his way through the chosen toys, hits mostly aimed at his bottom, but some land on the shoulder blades and the back of Alec's thighs. The sub takes it all, groaning and hissing into the quilt muffling his sound.

Magnus works so systematically, it is nothing compared to Sebastian's punishments, which often ended bloody. Still, Alec's body aches in all the right places, and with every impact, a tiny piece of Alec's guilt disappears into thin air.

Magnus praises him for how good he is taking the punishment, and a misplaced feeling of pride spreads through Alec's chest. He can't help it. He's not forgiven, not yet. But he already feels the redemption looming in his heated skin.

Alec doesn't know how long Magnus works him over, artfully reddens his skin. He's surprised when the flogger is put back on the nightstand, even though his body is hurting. Was that it? Shouldn't Magnus make him suffer more?

But Sir orders him to get up, a task way more difficult than Alec had expected it to be, the movement showing the full expanse of the inflicted pain. Magnus checks on him, but despite slightly trembling legs, Alec is fine.

Magnus sits down on the side of the bed, legs wide, and he pats on one of his thighs. "Twenty more spanks, and then you're done. You did so well." Alec takes a deep breath. Magnus will put him over his knee for the very first time. It seems intimate.

It is.

Alec never thought much about how close a crotch is to the leg when put in this position. His torso lies on the bed again, his long legs hanging off Magnus' thigh and the first impact is way more intense than the spank itself promised. No wonder. His bottom is already raw. But 19 more. He can do this.

It's difficult, though. With every impact, he rubs over Magnus' thigh, and suddenly, the word funishment makes much more sense.

Alec's dick cocks up, fills more with every rub and every hit. He hasn't been with anyone for nearly three years now, and his cock doesn't care that this is supposed to be a punishment. Alec gets hard in record time, and Magnus must feel his erection rubbing against his leg. But true to his promise, the dom ignores it deliberately.

With every spank, Alec's whole body lights up, exhaustion and arousal tearing down all the walls that Alec held up for so long. They come crumbling down like an avalanche, known emotions and new feelings storming his body and mind, and a desperation spreading until words press against his lips for the first time since the punishment began.

He can keep them in. This isn't over yet. He counts down the spanks, the pain mixing with his arousal in a long-forgotten way.

It all breaks out of him as soon as Magnus' hand touches his rear for the last time.

"Please," he presses out.

Magnus chuckles above him. "What? Wasn't that enough, Alexander? You've taken your punishment so well. You're good now. No more today."

"Please," Alec whines. "Please, let me come. Please."

Magnus rubs gently over the small of Alec's back. "That wasn't discussed beforehand, my sweet boy. I know you're aroused, and that's okay. But you were very clear in the past about sexual things, weren't you?"

Alec whines again. Yes, he was. But that was when he thought he'd never get this desperate during a scene.

"Please. I'm good. Please, let me come."

Magnus runs a hand through Alec's hair. "It will soon be gone. Let me tend to your body. We need to cool this."

"No," Alec protests, slipping away in a part of his mind he hasn't visited for a long time. "Please, I'll do anything. Please, Master, let me come."

Alec keeps on begging. He's so close to release. Magnus would probably only need to give him the green light, and he would explode. Alec feels like losing his mind if he doesn't come now, if Magnus rejects him like that. But Magnus pulls him up and, when Alec ends up in his arms, his panties are back in place already, too.

Magnus coos gently in response to his whimpers and still spilling pleas, brushes his hands soothingly over Alec's back, mindful of the flogged areas. "Shh, it's fine. Just cool down, my sweet boy. It's okay that you got aroused, but I can't let you come. Do you understand?"

"You could," Alec murmurs into his shoulder, cock still hard as stone.

Magnus chuckles. "I will respect your rules, even when you're sailing on endorphins, darling."

Alec mumbles something unintelligible, but he's cooling down a little now. He lets Magnus manhandle him on the bed again, his erection pressing into the comforter. Not even the ice pack on his bottom can cool it down. Alec forces himself to not hump the mattress. Magnus made it perfectly clear that he rejected his request.

Alec always hated orgasm denial. But this time, there is no cock cage waiting for him. He could rub one out later. Of course, he won't. That would be indecent. He is so desperate because he wants to experience what other subs do with his dom. Subs that aren't as fucked up as he is. Subs that don't fall in love with their dom. Subs that don't get aroused at the end of a punishment, calling their dom a name they never agreed upon.

Alec breathes out in defeat and asks Magnus for an icepack.

"For what?"

"To get rid of my erection," Alec murmurs, and a sound of distress falls from Magnus' lips. He denies him that? Magnus spanked him six ways to Sunday, and this is where he draws the line? Icing an erection that is embarrassing as fuck?

"I am the one who inflicts pain on you, Alexander. Your pain is mine."

Alec nods and buries his face in the pillows until Magnus pulls him into his arms.

"You've been so good for me. Such a perfect boy," Magnus praises as if Alec wouldn't have slipped into his old self, begging like he used to, desperate, and horny, and detached from logical thinking.

But Magnus doesn't mention it. And Alec is thankful beyond words.

Chapter Text

Magnus watches Alec intently as he empties the bottle of juice. "We should talk about what just occurred."

Alec ducks his head, blushing fiercely. "I'm sorry, Sir. It won't happen again."

"I certainly hope so. I think you slipped in more ways than one, and I don't like what this might mean for our arrangement."

Alec needs to purposefully take a breath. Just great. What did he do or say that made Magnus realise?

"I'm sorry, Sir, if I made you uncomfortable. It wasn't my intention to bring this into our scenes. I promise I will keep it out. I can keep it out." He will root out this terrible crush if need be. Magnus is way too important for him.

Magnus works his jaw. "You slipped into old habits, Alexander. You need to address that, either with me or your therapist—maybe both of us. I don't mind you calling me 'Master'. I have clients who don't call me 'Sir'. But together with your sexual reaction, I think we should be very careful how we're gonna approach future scenes."

Alec stares at him for a long moment, flabbergasted. This is what Magnus was talking about? A breath of relief leaves his lungs. He nods. "Yes. I don't want to call you 'Master'. It stands for a D/s relationship I'd rather not experience anymore."

Alec puts the empty bottle on the nightstand and sits up on the edge of the bed, the cooled bruises on his bottom aching deliciously. He will feel the remnants for days, and he's thankful for it.

"Words and names for sure can imply a lot," Magnus muses. "But at the end of the day, it is you and your partner's decision how to define those. Just because there is a prevalent definition in our community that puts top/bottoms on one side of the spectrum and master/slaves on the other, that doesn't mean that you have to agree with them.

"I have littles who call me Master, and subs with strong degradation kinks calling me Daddy. Just because there are certain dynamics attached to these names doesn't mean that they are sacrosanct. I enjoyed using the title Master for one of my exes, even though our dynamics were more of the top/bottom kind and didn't include any true power exchange. If you want to play around, try to use 'Master' or anything else for me, you just need to ask."

Alec's brain short-circuits for a moment. Magnus is a switch? How can that be? He's the epitome of what Alec thinks a good dom should be. But maybe that is because he knows what it means to be a sub.

"Do you want me to call you 'Master'?" Alec asks, the name feeling foreign on his tongue, even though he used it instinctively just a short while ago. Maybe Magnus is right. Maybe he should explore what he can resurrect, reclaim. He's come so far. And he feels safe with Magnus. There is no harm in trying old things in a new setting. Still…

"Do you want to?" Magnus asks, smiling.

Alec shakes his head. "That title is scorched earth for me. Even if I should end up in a 24/7 relationship again."

"There are very few titles that I would reject. It needs to work for both of us."

Alec hums. "What is off the table for you?"

Magnus chuckles. "I'm not so fond of anything royal—King, Count, Prince. Not my cup of tea. But Daddy, Sir, Headmaster, Mister? That's totally fine with me if it matches the dynamics."

Alec huffs a laugh. "I didn't even know that half of them are used."

Magnus nods in understanding. He worries his lip, but Alec, still facing in the other direction, can't see it.

"There are many things still waiting for you to be explored, Alexander. BDSM is such a vast field, a three-star restaurant offering a menu for everyone and every taste. We haven't even scratched the surface. And that's all the sexual stuff not even counted in."

Alec nods. The shame of having it brought into the scene today still lingers in his stomach. How can Magnus be so nonchalant about it? He begged him to come, for heaven's sake!

"Do you want to talk about these options?" Magnus asks quietly.

Alec's head flicks around, the area around his shoulder blades protesting immediately. "What do you mean?"

Magnus gets up on his side of the bed and walks around it, sitting down next to his sub. He puts a hand on the small of Alec's back. "You begged me for release. If we had talked about it beforehand, I would have allowed it. It would have been a fitting reward for you being so good today. But you put everything off the table. And I understand that. You're a burnt child.

"Sex-free play is beautiful, and not everyone includes sex in their scenes. But some do. So, I wondered if you want us to work on that, to ease you in or if you want to keep it non-sexual? No matter what, it won't change anything between us."

Alec furrows his brow. It would change everything. Could he let Magnus touch him sexually without wanting more? What even is it he's offering? It's been so long since Alec checked out Magnus' website. He tries to swallow around the lump in his throat. Would Magnus touch him intimately? Alec wants him to, and at the same time, it would likely be the point of no return.

"What are you referring to?" he asks, trying hard to keep his voice even.

Magnus smiles at him. "Obviously, penetration is off the table. But there could be guided masturbation, anal play, orgasm control, things like that."

Alec's cheeks turn crimson. "That's… that would be a big step."

"Oh, for sure. We'd have to talk about boundaries, triggers, and such before attempting this."

Alec's brain is swimming. Are they truly talking about changing their contract? "That sounds like a lot of effort."

Magnus chuckles. "I'm all for effort. And I think that everything you think about trying is worthy to be explored. Is there anything that comes to mind?"

Alec looks down at his hands. "I— Could we…?" Magnus smiles and gives him an encouraging nod. "You talked about someone domming you?" Alec squeaks.

Magnus chuckles. "Yes?"

"So, you sub professionally?"

Magnus shakes his head. "No, I did it only in a few relationships. But would that be something you'd like to try?"

Alec shrugs. "I'm not sure. But I met a few switches, and I just never gave it a second thought until today."

"Many male submissives are switches in my experience," Magnus says. "That doesn't mean that you are one, of course."

Alec shrugs his shoulders. "It doesn't matter, anyway. You're only domming professionally, and I don't think I'm ready to do this with someone I'm not close to, right now."

A soft smile grows on Magnus' face. He gets off the bed, busying himself with tidying up the room. Alec watches him in silence, not ready to leave yet. It's a weird thought, but he would have given it a trial run. It's just not meant to be.

Magnus takes the ropes out of the bag and puts them into his dresser. He turns around and leans against it, all the while scanning Alec's face. He nods to himself. "I think I'd make an exception for you."

Chapter Text

Alec takes a deep breath in the hope to calm himself down a little. What made him think this was a good idea? He has never bound anyone outside a shibari course. No one but himself. And Magnus kneels there in front of him in a perfect pose, dressed only in satin boxers and a cotton tank top that looks so soft that he wants to run his hands over it. Okay, maybe not only because of that, but he's still thankful for the thin barrier. It sits so snugly, he can see Magnus' steeled muscles anyway.

He circles Magnus, takes in all his curves and edges, every detail of his face, his arms and hands. He is finally allowed to look his fill, and so, he does. For long minutes.

How does Magnus manage to keep the inspection short? Oh, right. He's not attracted to him. The reminder makes Alec's stomach clench painfully.

"Such a good boy for me," Alec praises, the words feeling foreign on his tongue.

"Thank you, Sir," Magnus replies easily. Despite his perfect posture and the scrutinising eyes on him, he looks relaxed.

'He's perfect,' Alec thinks before shaking his head. Of course he is. He's Magnus. And Alec is in love with him. He loves his humour, the stories he tells him during aftercare and their after session drinks. He loves his wit, the way he carries himself. He envies Magnus for knowing exactly what he's worth and not accepting anything below his standards. And now, kneeling in front of him, legs and arms bare, Alec wonders how he managed to keep himself from undressing him in his mind so far.

This will be way harder from now on.

Magnus' soft eyes and smile nearly blind him, so he walks to the bed and takes the ropes he asked Magnus to prepare for their session. He walks to his back and hesitates. He always wanted to try something like this ever since he watched a video on YouTube about floor play. It looked so beautiful, so sensual. But now, he realises how damn close their bodies would be if he pulled through his original plans.

Dammit!

"I can't do that," he admits out loud, and Magnus turns his head and looks up at him. Why does Magnus need to be this gorgeous?

"Why not?"

"I—" Alec swallows hard. "I didn't think this through."

Magnus scrutinises him for a long moment. "It doesn't have to be perfect, Sir."

Alec huffs a laugh. "Yeah. That went out the window a few seconds ago, I guess."

"May I make a suggestion?" Alec nods. "Just do it. The beginning is the biggest hurdle. Just start, and if you need us to end it, just safeword. We can always change back if you need it."

The offer is too compelling. But Magnus is right. He probably just needs to get over the bump and then it'll become easier.

"Okay," Alec breathes. "Let's get started." He kneels down and binds Magnus' arms behind his back.

He guides the rope around Magnus' torso and tries to get a feel for it. With any minute that passes, he gets bolder. He knee walks around his bottom—he wouldn't dare call himself a dom, but a rope top? He might have what it needs to become one.

At some point, he makes the mistake of looking at Magnus' face. He looks so tenderly at him that it makes Alec's heart clench. He averts his gaze, heat crawling up into his cheeks.

He concentrates on binding different parts of Magnus' body, painting patterns with rope, moving his bottom this or that way. He tries not to look at the movement of Magnus' muscles too closely.

"Are you okay?" he asks quietly now and then. Magnus hums in response. He's probably bored. "Do you need something?"

Magnus turns his head, straining his neck to face Alec properly. "Eye contact would be nice now and then, Sir." Alec swallows around the lump in his throat and tries to keep his gaze on Magnus'.

"Anything else?" he croaks.

Magnus takes as deep a breath as the rope around his chest allows. "Touch?" He sounds unsure.

"Um, okay? What kind of touch?"

Now it's Magnus' turn to be flustered. "Any, really. It's a bit—"

Alec raises an eyebrow. "A bit what, Magnus?"

"Mechanical. As if you wouldn't want to give anything. You always struck me as a rather sensual man, but you don't show it." He winces at his own words.

Alec sinks back on his heels. It's not that he doesn't want to. He's just worried that he might cross a line.

"I'll try," he promises anyway and places a hand above Magnus' knee while he pulls out the rope between his thighs, which he just unknotted. "Like this?" he asks. Magnus' smile is answer enough.

He works with Magnus' body, the bottom going easily. After a while, they run like a well-oiled machine, and Alec feels more secure with every knot and every touch. This is fun and strangely invigorating. He begins to understand how Magnus feels when Alec gives over control.

Although, maybe Magnus shouldn't have trusted him. He nearly falls face forward, Alec's quick reflexes the only thing saving him from a bloody nose in the nick of time.

"I'm so, so sorry, shit!" Alec says, holding Magnus on the ropes crossing his back.

Magnus chuckles. "It's okay. Shit happens."

"I really shouldn't do this," Alec murmurs while he lowers Magnus carefully back to the floor.

"Believe me, you're not the first dom or top that something like this happened to. I've been responsible for a few unplanned bruises myself." He turns his head and winks at Alec. Something uncurls in Alec's stomach, a familiar warmth spreading there.

He manoeuvres Magnus into a safe position before he cups his face and runs tender thumbs over Magnus' cheekbones. "You're so beautiful," he says and adds a quick, "sweet boy." Magnus' smile puts the sun to shame as radiant as it is. Yes, maybe even his strong, often unfazed-looking dom might need to hear this.

Alec presses a tender kiss to his temple before he pulls back and resumes tying and untying Magnus as he pleases. His hands now touch, he leans their bodies together, guides Magnus into his arms when it suits the position. Yes, it's intimate. What did Magnus call it? Sensual. And it isn't the same as touching a lover. He could do all of this with Izzy, too. He probably will ask her to. She always loved the shibari art on his bedroom walls.

He knows that this is more, though. Not because of the closeness, but because of his feelings for the man who lays his safety into his hands. And this is special. Magnus' words only fully sink in now. Your submission is a beautiful gift.

When Alec loosens the last tie around Magnus' wrists and holds him in his arms, all he feels is peace. Yes, he'll never hold him like this ever again, but he'll be damned if he doesn't soak in every second of it.

"Thank you," he whispers and presses a kiss in Magnus' tousled hair.

He smiles up at Alec, looking relaxed in a way he has never seen him before. "Thank you."

"Sorry, I'm not dom material."

Magnus cards a hand through Alec's hair. "Did you have fun?"

"Yes," Alec chuckles. "I think I could enjoy being a shibari switch. But I missed—" he trails off, not sure what he is even meaning to say. Magnus waits him out patiently, as always. Alec shakes his head. "I missed my dom," he settles on. It's easier to confess this than to say the full truth—that it's less trying to accept Magnus' touches than to touch him, that this is so much more meaningful to him because Alec is the one who decides what is happening.

Magnus smiles at him. "He'll be back next time." Alec can't wait for it.

Chapter Text

Alec is a good half hour early for their session, but he's even too antsy to pace up and down the streets. He slumps on a bar chair and eyes Maia dealing with another customer.

"Hey, stranger. How are you doing?" she asks when she's done.

Alec huffs a laugh. "Been better. Have a new colleague. And he's an ass."

Maia pushes a glass of water into his line of sight. "What is it you're doing? If you feel comfortable sharing."

"I'm a physician. Mainly ER." Maia purses her lips and nods appreciatively. "That guy has the sensitivity of an eighteen-wheeler. Had a kid in today, broke her ankle inline skating. He came down on her mother like a ton of bricks. I had to apologise." Alec rolls his eyes and empties half of the glass in one go.

Maia raises her eyebrow. "Sounds as if he's not really made for that line of work."

Alec shrugs. "He's simply full of himself." He breathes a sigh. "Don't know why he gets under my skin like that. Maybe his accent."

Maia nods. They talked a bit about Sebastian. Not that much, but she has a rough idea.

Alec takes a deep breath. He won't let Aldertree taint his mood. He just wants to let go and enjoy his time. He already gives a large chunk of his life to his job, another to his family and friends. This here? This is only for him. Even more than the therapy sessions that he's tapering off, only getting appointments whenever the shoe pitches now.

He empties his glass, thanks Maia, and puts a tip on the counter, then walks to Magnus' door. He smiles before he knocks. Just standing there in the dim light, surrounded by maroon carpets, dark-stained doors, and brass lamps makes it feel like coming home. It's probably just Magnus. He knows it is.

Alec sometimes wonders if his home is just as lavishly furnished as his playroom. It suits him so well. But maybe that's just a role he slips in. It doesn't matter.

"Hello, Alexander."

Alec breathes out audibly. It's nearly a sigh. These two words are the highlight of his week. He loves this voice, loves this man. Maybe that's why all blind dates Izzy and Jace sent him on failed so far. They were all smart, successful and easy on the eye. But no one compared to Magnus.

Alec knows he'll have to quit scening with him to be open to a new relationship. But he's not ready for that. Not yet.

"Hello, Sir."

Alec steps into the room and looks at a large box crammed full of toys of all kinky kinds. It looks out of place, and Alec sends a questioning look in Magnus' direction. But his dom simply sits down on his plushy armchair and raises an eyebrow.

"I thought I'd like to rearrange my collection. And what better way than asking my sweet boy to help me, don't you think?" Alec nods silently. "I want you to sort everything in this box on the bed, and then to tell me what you think about the toys, your experience with them, your greens and reds. Can you do that for me?"

"Yes, Sir."

"Good boy. Now start. These are a lot of toys." Magnus winks at him and grabs a book from his coffee table. It's about behavioural psychology. Alec starts to see a pattern there.

He drags the box to the bed and empties it on the comforter. There is a lot of stuff he knows—dildos of all shapes and sizes, paddles, anal plugs, cock cages, nipple clamps, spreader bars, different kinds of shackles, face masks, and much more.

He works methodically and fast. He knows that this is the easy part. Shortly, he's supposed to talk about these things, and that is a whole different ball game.

When he's done, he goes into the soldier stance. "I'm finished, Sir," he reports. This is familiar. From here on out it's unknown territory.

Magnus puts his book down and walks over. "Well done, darling. Where do you want to start?"

Alec's eyes scan the display in front of him. He doesn't want to start at all, but he knows this is important. It's likely for Magnus to see what advances they can safely make. He first let Alec adjust during the sorting process, and now he can see his reaction directly, not just talk about it in a theoretical way. Alec is good at talking, even about the bad stuff. That doesn't mean that he isn't touched or can be triggered by any of it if caught off guard.

Alec stares at the hoods and shifts from one foot to the other. "I don't like things pulled over my head," he says. Magnus hums in acknowledgement. "Steel shackles are so harsh. I prefer leather or rope."

"Good boy."

Alec glances at Magnus. He's eliminating his dom's range, and he praises him? The sub should be used to it by now, but sometimes, he still slips. Not as often as he used to, though.

They go through the impact toys, talking shop about materials, forms, and sizes. Magnus is surprised about the things Alec is open to trying. The sub shrugs. "I trust you." The soft smile adorning Magnus' face is worth the heat crawling into Alec's cheeks.

"I used plugs in the past," Alec croaks, ready to get this over with. "I liked the reminder that I didn't wear it for myself."

"You liked to be reminded that you belonged to the one who put it in?" Magnus guesses.

"I sometimes did it myself. But I wore it for Seb." He shrugs apologetically.

"Good to know," Magnus smirks. "What about these?"

Alec's ears burn crimson as he looks at the collection of dildos and vibrators. "Haven't used one since…" He lets out a frustrated groan.

"That's quite alright, Alexander. Do you like anal play?"

Does he? He has absolutely no idea. Sebastian loved to edge him, and he used things like these on him. Well not like all of them. Alec frowns as he takes a weirdly shaped and coloured dildo into his hand. It looks like a prop from a Sci-Fi movie.

"Maybe. But this one looks rather daunting."

Magnus laughs. It's the most beautiful sound that Alec has ever heard. It sends innocent butterflies through his stomach, a stark contrast to the alien monstrosity with suction knobs in his hand.

"You're not into xenophilia then, I suppose."

Alec chuckles. "What's that?"

"Oh, it is an umbrella term for preferences to foreign or unknown things and living beings. This can be a sexual fixation on, let's say, Chinese women, for example. It's a fetish that can be quite problematic in some circumstances and fully harmless in others."

"I'd imagine it can be questionable. Especially from white men."

Magnus hums in agreement. "Yes. So, personally, that's one of my hard nos. When I get the impression that a client chose me for my race, I decline them. I'm sure there are others who like that dynamic, but I got no time for figuring out on which side of the spectrum they fall. I have to deal with enough racism in my everyday life."

The atmosphere grows heavy after that. Alec knows he's privileged in so many ways. It doesn't matter that his life was hard. There are things he'll never have to deal with, just because he's a white man in America.

"Do these people think Asian men have cocks like this?" Alec jokes in hope to diffuse the tension.

"No," Magnus laughs. "This is for the xenophiles that are more interested in aliens."

Alec nearly chokes on his own saliva. "Really?"

Magnus smiles softly. "Yes, really. And there's nothing wrong about that."

Alec stares at the dildo in his hand, the tiny legs on its base and the unusual shaft. "Do people use it in role-play or…?"

"Sometimes. Or just so, because it feels really fucking good."

Alec's dick gives an interested twitch. Will he ever cross that line with Magnus? It would still be platonic. He'd like to try. But he needs to get his motivation straight first. If this is a way to have sex with the man he loves, then it's not a good idea. It's easy to push away these feelings when Magnus spanks him, ties him up, or lets him sort things. Anal play might be part of Magnus' daily transactions, no desire or arousal attached on his side, the play as clinical for him as a prostate exam for a urologist. But Alec isn't a professional, and as much as he tries to guard his heart, this might actually break him.

"Wanna try it sometime?" Magnus asks, voice carefully neutral.

Alec puts the dildo back on the bed. "I don't know. We spoke about easing into sexual stuff. Maybe in the far future, I might be ready for that."

"Good."

Is there a strain in Magnus' voice, or is Alec imagining it?

Alec's eyes run over the bed once more. Thoughts like these are never helpful, so he pushes them away and looks at the spreader bars instead. "Seb used these on me a lot at the end. They chafed as hell. Probably why I don't like metal cuffs."

"I prefer leather, too."

Alec worries his lip between his teeth. "Would you…?"

"Put them on you, sweet boy?" Alec nods, eyes flickering through the room. "Sure. Put the other toys away, undress to your underwear, and lie down on your back."

Alec is a tidy person, but he has never cleaned up as quickly as right here and now.

Chapter Text

Alec's heart would put a Duracell bunny to shame. It was a spur of the moment thing, but there he is—leaning against the headboard, with his legs widely spread with a bar, giving a good view on his tented panties.

It's daunting, taking this step. This could destroy all the progress he made. There is a reason why he hasn't touched himself for three long years.

Magnus leans against the bedpost furthest away from Alec, hugging a pillow. He scrutinises his face for a long while before he talks. "I will tell you what we're doing today," he says quietly. "You will pleasure yourself under my guidance. I will sit here and watch. I won't touch you until you've come. As always, we can stop at any time. What is your colour, darling?"

Alec swallows down the lump in his throat. "Gre-en, Sir," he stammers.

Magnus nods. "There's nothing to be ashamed of Alexander. It's just me, and I will tell you exactly what to do," he coos.

Alec huffs a quiet laugh. Just me. But he's right, of course. If Alec can do this, then it's with him. Magnus has proved that he is truly safe, again and again.

"Run your hands over your arms and your torso."

Okay, not just a jerk-off session. Alec follows his order. He usually only touches himself as far as personal hygiene and dressing require. But this is kinda nice, if a bit silly. But it's an order, and Magnus watches him like a hawk.

Alec closes his eyes. His fingers run over the scars on his stomach. Magnus knows them well, has touched them a million times by now. But in the spotlight, exposed like this, Alec can't help but feel sorry for his dom. This isn't aesthetically pleasing. Well, at least, the rest of his body doesn't look half bad.

He runs his fingers along the waistband of his panties—emerald satin shorts today—and up to his chest again.

"Play with your nipples, sweet boy," Sir says, and Alec furrows his brow but complies. He never really reacted to nipple play unless pain was involved. But Magnus seems to realise that. "Pinch them," he orders. So Alec does. "You look beautiful like this."

Alec chuckles, his cheeks and chest glowing crimson. How can Magnus be so damn professional about it? Alec doesn't even dare look at him. The whole thing might be over rather soon if he did.

"Thank you, Sir."

Magnus lets him play with his nipples for a while until they become oversensitive and raw, and Alec can't suppress a low whine any longer. He's so hard, it hurts nearly more than the abused buds.

"Good boy. Now cup your dick over the fabric and give yourself what you so clearly need."

Another whine, but for very different reasons. What he needs? Magnus is right. He needs this. He needs to come. Why didn't he know? He could have had this all along. He's not in chastity after all. And still, he deprived himself of this pleasure.

It hadn't been a conscious decision. No. But subliminally, he didn't feel he deserved this. Sex, and pain, and abuse were all rolled up into one, and him needing release was a sign of failure.

But here, with Magnus guiding his hands, maybe he can finally frame it new, better. He wants it with a desperation that is nothing compared to his begging two weeks ago. Magnus isn't rejecting him, he's enabling him in the best way possible.

He opens his eyes and looks at the first man he desired after Sebastian, and the sight makes gratefulness spread in his chest. It's a gift. Alec can not only love again, he can desire, too. It's fucked up, but it's okay. He can dwell in it as long as it lasts.

Magnus is awfully composed, dressed to the nines as he always is. But images of strong arms and legs pop up in Alec's mind. This is inappropriate. He shakes his head to get rid of them.

"Why not?" Magnus asks. The question needs a moment to register.

"Can't use you like that," Alec says and closes his eyes. Now, Magnus knows and will safeword out of it for sure.

"You don't. I'm using you, Alexander. Your pleasure is mine."

Alec's eyes shoot open again. Oh, the glory of misunderstandings. But Sir is right anyway. Maybe that's why Alec wants this. It's not his decision to palm his erection through the fabric of his panties, not his decision to play with his balls or tease his hole under the fabric. Nothing of it is his. He's doing this for his dominant. And even though he has never done this before, it feels familiar.

Maybe because the power exchange doesn't make much of a difference between Magnus ordering him to sort toys or to touch himself. It's the same dynamic, and even though what he is asked to do is sexual in its very nature, the two of them aren't having sex.

Huh.

It all makes sense now. That Magnus doesn't mind him coming. That Magnus encourages him even, if that's what he wants. Because, at the end of the day, Alec is in his hands, not irrevocably, but still. Magnus doesn't need to pull sexual pleasure from it, because there is another kind of pleasure he truly seeks between them—the power of dominance.

And Alec can give him that, in any way. It's a heady feeling. He follows Magnus guiding words like he follows the pulls of his hands during a shibari session or the number of hits during a spanking. There's no difference between Sir telling him to kneel or how to use his fingers, the palms and the heels of his hand to work his cock. It's easy. Maybe too easy, but Alec cannot find it in himself to care.

He touches himself as Magnus tells him to, and it doesn't matter that he edges him for what feels like a thousand times, that his voice stays even as if he were not touched by it in any way. All that matters is Magnus' voice in his ear and the easy submission in which Alec now slips so naturally.

There is no shame, no hang-ups, not even improper fantasies. There are only Alec's hands as extensions of his dom's, and a low burning pleasure pulling him together and straining him like a bowstring in a never-ending circle. There is only control that he keeps for someone else and pleasure that he's grateful to receive.

He comes without a name on his lips. The orgasm ripping through him is a gift, a reward for being good. It feels like an explosion, resets his body in ways he never knew.

He floats, barely registers that Magnus removes the spreader bar and pulls him into his arms, back to chest. He more feels than hears the soft words murmured into his hair. He doesn't care about the mess in his panties or the fact that they crossed a boundary that was set in stone for him for years. This was right—right place, right time, right dom.

Alec cries silent tears into the pillow. Tears of relief, of pride, of happiness. He made it.

Chapter Text

"Aldertree and Loss, the stab wound. Brewer and Rose, the whiplash," Alec orders. It's a rather slow day, and he has reports to catch up on, so he leaves the hands-on work to his colleagues for now and hammers the keyboard. He hates paperwork. But it comes with responsibility, and Alec really loves his job. So, he puts up with the parts he doesn't like.

Time in front of the computer always moves like molasses, so he has no idea how much has passed when Catarina startles him with a touch on his shoulder. She's his favourite nurse by a long way, and there are good reasons why he often partners her with the new doctor.

"Sorry, Alec, but we have a bit of an issue."

Alec raises a questioning eyebrow. "What did he do this time?"

She chuckles. "Good intuition. Well, he wants to call the police, but the patient doesn't want to and insists her husband stays with her until she's discharged. It's still bleeding, and Aldertree isn't really helping the situation. She could be patched up already."

"Domestic abuse?"

"I'm not sure. I don't think so. But something feels off to me."

Alec trusts Catarina's gut instincts. She's been in the army, too. Maybe that's why they get along so well. She gives him a few more details on their way to the patient. Alec greets the security guards who just arrived and asks them to stay before he pulls the curtain to the side.

"Hello, I'm Dr Lightwood. What seems to be the problem?"

Aldertree purses his lips. "Suspicion of abuse."

"This wasn't abuse. It was an accident. How often do I have to repeat this before someone helps her?" a man standing next to the surgery couch says.

Alec scans him, then regards the patient, a woman in saucy lingerie and her husband's suit jacket with her hand wrapped in a blood-soaked towel. He assesses the situation and nods to himself. "I'll be responsible for this one."

Aldertree seethes, but angrily discarded latex gloves and a Hollywood-worthy exit aside, he doesn't question Alec's authority on this.

"Please, Mrs Green, tell me what happened," Alec asks.

"I fell into a blade."

"Could I see the wound, please?"

She unwraps her hand, and Alec takes in the damage. He gets why Aldertree was suspicious. It looks like defensive wounds.

"Mrs Green, how exactly did you come in contact with the blade," Alec asks and starts the treatment.

The patient looks at her husband. Alec can't read it properly, but he's sure she isn't afraid of him, but for him. She stays silent.

"Was it an accident during a scene?" he asks, carefully neutral.

The patient's eyes grow wide. "It was," she whispers. "I panicked. It was the first time we used a real knife."

Alec nods and glances at the husband. "Do you two have allergies?" Both shake their heads. "Catarina, could you please fetch two bottles of Gatorade and six chocolate bars?"

"Sure," she says, giving him a questioning eyebrow.

"Thank you, Cat. Mr Green, would you please roll up your sleeves and hold your wife with skin-to-skin contact until I'm done here?" The man nods and complies. "Where did you learn about knifeplay?" Alec enquires.

"Mostly from the Internet."

Alec nods. "There are good knifeplay workshops in the Queens Dungeon, I heard. Of course, panic can always set in, even between consensual partners. Do you have a safeword in place?"

"Yes, Sir," the patient says.

"Sir is my dom," he says quietly. "Call me Alec." He gives her a wink.

"Okay, Alec." She smiles at him and relaxes into her husband's arms. "It's butterfly."

Alec smiles. "Are you playing for a while that you only have one?"

"We've been married for twelve years and have been playing for eight. The tame stuff for the most part, but we wanted to try something new," the husband says and chews his lip.

"Shit happens, Mr Green. Accidents happen. You took good care of your submissive. I can see that." He points at the bloody suit jacket lying discarded on the floor. "You've done well." Mr Green nods, his shoulders easing slightly as he pulls his wife close.

Alec is nearly done when Catarina returns from the vending machine. "I want you to drink a bottle, each. And then you should feed each other the chocolate bars. Slowly. We'll give you a bit of privacy to cuddle or what your usual aftercare procedure is. Call me when you think you're done. I wanna check both of your vitals before you leave. Call if anything seems weird, no matter if body or mind, okay?"

"Yes, thank you, Dr Lightwood," Mr Green says.

"No problem."

"Can I talk with you for a minute? In private?" Catarina asks.

"Sure," Alec says and exhales slowly. He closes the door behind them. "What can I do for you?"

Catarina worries her lip. "The couple are dom and sub, aren't they?"

Alec nods.

"What tipped you off? I have a friend in the scene and know more about it than most people on the streets would pick up on, but I had no clue until you asked the question. I mean it's not the first time that a woman is brought in in lingerie."

"Her collar," Alec says.

Catarina frowns. "She didn't wear a collar."

Alec chuckles. "Not all collars are leather chokers. The thinner metal ones are rather popular."

Catarina smirks. "I know better than to ask you where you know that from. I'm just happy that this was really an accident."

"Yes, me too."

Catarina regards him for a long moment, then smiles at him and squeezes his shoulder. "Good job, doctor."

"You know I'd be lost without you, Cat," he smirks.

"All doctors are." They laugh as they leave the room.

Chapter Text

Alec tucks at the cuff of his new dress shirt. He hates medical conferences. One part of the attendees only comes for the food and free samples, others for the one-night stands and/or to get wasted, and—at least that's Alec's gut feeling—only a minor part is here for the new studies and advancements in the medical sector.

But Alec was sent here by the hospital. He only agreed grumpily as the opening fell on a scening day. It's not that he's dependent on it. Still, he feels bereaved. But Magnus had a solution for him. Free of charge. Probably the perks of being a patron for one and a half years.

Alec rubs his fingers over the tight leather bracelet circling his wrist. On the surface, he may look like Dr Alexander Lightwood, but inwardly he knows this not to be true. Not fully, at least. He's Magnus' submissive right now, following his dominant's orders to the tee while simultaneously fulfilling his obligations as a doctor and employee.

The pressure around his wrist feels good, Alec won't lie. It's kind of a collar, a sign of ownership, even if invisible to the eyes of others. Alec can feel it with every fibre of his being. It feels awesome. Safe. As if he were carried through difficult small talk, demanding presentations, and endless dinner conversations. It was a gift, Magnus explained. Alec wished he could keep wearing it, but jewellery and such aren't allowed at work for hygiene reasons.

But today, he can wear it hidden under his best suit, and it is a constant reminder of the list of rules Magnus sent him for today. A long list of rules.

No matter how bored or tired Alec becomes, he's not allowed to let it show today. No eye-rolls, no grumpy cat face, no sulking, or angry words. At all times, he needs to be polite, suave, friendly, and understanding. He is a well-trained sub, and even though his colleagues don't know that, today he's Sir's, and he has to conduct himself as if his behaviour would directly reflect on Magnus' training.

It's not an easy task.

First, he runs into Prof Valentine Morgenstern, a sleazy piece of… arrogant scholar. Then, he bumps into Dr Imogen Herondale, no less cocksure. The coffee is terrible, and the ventilation in the congress centre doesn't seem to work properly.

The opening ceremony is cringe-worthy, the first presentations rather boring. But Alec listens attentively and is nice to everyone.

When his path crosses Valentine's again, he runs to the bathrooms. He can't be nice to that dick. Not even for Magnus.

He pulls out his phone and shoots his dom a message as they agreed to do whenever he might struggle today.

Short of disobeying you, Sir. I receded to avoid conflict. Thank you for making me a better person.

As soon as he has sent the text, three dots appear on the display. Butterflies storm through Alec's stomach, and he has to take a deep breath to contain the giddy feeling. This is getting worse, not better. He'll have to end this, eventually. But he simply can't make himself do it.

Well done, my sweet boy. I'm sure you make me proud. Did you dress well, as I told you?

Alec smiles at the text. He straightens his jacket and takes a few selfies in the bathroom mirror, carefully choosing the one that gives a glimpse of his bracelet.

Oh, my beautiful boy. Your smile will make many people's lives better today.

Alec grins at his phone. Thank you, Sir.

The day gets better. The lectures are interesting, and he runs into a few former classmates and past colleagues.

"Hey, Alec. How are you?" a voice comes from behind, and Alec's eyes grow wide when he realises who it belongs to.

"Aline! What are you doing here?"

"I could ask the same. How are you?" she asks and pulls him into a hug. "Seb said you moved."

"Just into another part of the town."

She pulls back and studies his face, a frown distorting her beautiful face. "He said you couldn't make it work long-distance."

Alec bites his lip. That's how he explained it to family members? Sounds about right. Aline may have been a childhood friend of Alec's, but she still was Sebastian's cousin, so he kept his distance.

"I always found it strange that you didn't say goodbye. But your phone number was cancelled, and so, I thought…" She looks so terribly sad that Alec feels bad about not confirming the story she believed until today.

"It didn't work out, that's all that counts. I'm happy now." It's not a lie, a white one at most. He has a good job, a nice flat, great siblings and friends, an okay-ish relationship with his parents, and the best dom in the world.

"Are you seeing someone?"

"A therapist," he jokes.

"Oh, that's great. My wife Helen is a psychologist."

Alec blushes. A wife. Wow! Aline, who always called marriage a gilded cage. Aline, who had always said that Alec would be the first off the market because 'he was too beautiful to be single'. It had been a joke, of course. Still, jealousy rears its ugly head, and Alec is a second from letting it spill over his lips.

But he slips a finger under the bracelet, a sharp sting reminding him of the good boy he truly is. Aline doesn't deserve his frustration anyway.

He forces himself to smile and hopes that it comes off naturally. "Congratulations. I'm so happy for you." He's surprised to mean it.

"Could we exchange numbers? I gotta go, but I'd love to see you again."

Alec hesitates. What if Aline mixes with Sebastian's circles. But he loved hanging out with her, and he's supposed to be nice to everyone today, right?

"Can you give me just a second?" he asks, and she nods.

He turns a corner and leans against a wall as he types. Sir, am I allowed to share something with a past acquaintance, even though it might make her feel uncomfortable? It's regarding S.

He stares at the phone screen, but despite the message being delivered, no dots appear. He runs a hand through his hair, tugging on it until it hurts. It's strangely grounding. He bumps the back of his head against the wall, but then remembers Magnus' rules about self-harm.

Your pain is mine.

The vibration of his phone pulls him back from the edge towards he manoeuvered himself.

Yes, you have my permission. Call me in your next break. I'm free the whole day.

A sigh of relief leaves Alec's lungs and he sends a thankyou before he returns to Aline.

She smiles at him. "Everything okay?"

He nods. "Listen, Aline, I don't want to get into too much detail, but Seb and I, we didn't part on good terms. He was the reason for changing my phone number and to move across the city, change my workplace. I'd love to see you again and meet your wife. But I need to protect myself. It took me years to recover."

Aline nods in understanding. "Thank you for telling me. I'm so sorry, Alec. I had a bad feeling. You often seemed… off, let's say. I haven't seen Seb since his sister's wedding two years ago. And I don't want him in my life. He's… You were always too good for him."

Alec smiles at her lopsidedly. "So, brunch maybe? Do you know Clinton St. Bakery? They have blueberry pancakes to die for."

Chapter Text

Alec hovers in front of Magnus' playroom door. Maybe he should have cancelled. He's not ready to scene, not in the right mindset, and his body feels as if he were hit by a truck. But the thought of not seeing Magnus for another week? And because of a shitty night nonetheless? No.

He knocks and enters when called in. He opens his mouth to ask Magnus not to start just yet, but there's no need. "What happened, Alexander?" His dom's voice is worry-laced.

"Just woke up from a restless night. I'm sorry, Sir. I don't want to waste your time."

Magnus cups his cheek and tsks him. "You could never waste my time. Let's sit down and talk, shall we?"

They sink on the corner of the bed and Alec sorts his thoughts before he starts talking. "It wasn't a nightmare or anything. I think I'm just overworked and tired. And then, I had to do this presentation at work about asphyxiation, and a colleague joked about EA, and another said that people who do it are sick and probably deserve it… I don't know, it stuck, and I rolled in my bed for hours."

Magnus nods in understanding. "Erotic asphyxiation is a sensitive topic, even in our community. It's not a safe practice, but people crave what they crave, and some things can make it safer, at least."

Alec nods. "Nonverbal safewords."

"Yes. And knowledge about anatomy, early danger signs, sensitisation to call 911 immediately if something goes wrong, and having knowledge of resuscitation procedures. Stuff like that."

"You did your homework, obviously. Is that mandatory for professional dominants?"

Magnus chuckles mirthlessly. "I wish it were. In this establishment it is, but I had workplaces that were absolutely unregulated. I think most accidents happen at home, anyway. As much as I try my best to educate others in the scene, you can't make people come to the club and pay good money for a workshop if they think a bit of choking their partner or strangling themself while masturbating isn't dangerous."

Alec nods. "How many of the hundreds of people dying from autoerotic asphyxiation every year could be saved if they wouldn't do it alone."

Magnus hums. "But even with a partner—" His face turns sad, and Alec could kick himself that he brought up the topic.

"I'm sorry, Magnus. You're not my shrink."

Magnus grabs his hand and shakes his head. "It's okay, Alexander. It's what moves you right now. Is it something you crave?"

Alec exhales long and loudly. "Theoretically? Yes. But with my knowledge and experience? No. Never again." Magnus breathes a sigh. It sounds like relief. "Do… do you?"

"No. Not since a friend of mine died."

Alec squeezes Magnus' hand. "Do you wanna talk about it?"

Magnus' lips curl into a smile. "I'm alright, darling. But thank you. It happened a long time ago."

Alec cups Magnus' cheek on instinct, and the dom's eyes widen in surprise. "What can I do to make you feel better now, Sir?" Alec asks, the tension in his body easing with the task on hand.

"Oh, my sweet boy. Just being your wonderful self."

And with that, they glide back into their usual dynamic.

Chapter Text

Alec looks at himself dipped in soft light as he studies his body in the ensuite mirror. The single-use string thong he put on looks silly and daunting all at once. What the hell has Magnus planned for him!?

Alec loves the element of surprise, and the good laugh that he had as soon as he saw the 'special underwear' that Magnus had laid out for him helped to settle his nerves. He just hopes that the ghosts of the past that their conversation had resurrected will be gone as soon as Magnus calls him to enter the playroom again.

Alec kneels down on the plush bathroom rug, how Sir had ordered him to do, and closes his eyes. Minutes pass by in which Alec listens to the muffled noises coming through the door. His brain goes through things that might await him. A full body massage maybe? But where's the challenge in that? In acceptance, probably. Deserving nice things is still a bit of a struggle for Alec, and his dom knows that fine well.

Long minutes pass until the door opens quietly, and Magnus praises him for his perfect posture and patience. Alec smiles. He loves being Sir's good boy, and he learnt to let Magnus' praises wash over him without resistance in the many months they've been scening together.

"Come, sweet boy. Everything is prepared."

Alec takes Magnus' offered hand and gets up as gracefully as his stiff knees allow. His dom leads him over to a futon covered in rubber sheets. Candles dip the room in soft light, and even though Alec knows logically that this isn't a romantic setting, he can't help but feel the excitement bubbling up in his chest.

It has been years since someone did something like this for him, Alec always being the one creating beautiful Valentine's Day settings with rose petals and tea lights. A wave of longing washes over Alec unexpectedly. Tears prick his eyes. He wants this to mean something, wants Magnus to do these kinds of things only for him.

He wouldn't mind Magnus having other subs as long as he could have this part of him just for himself. It's selfish, of course. But it's probably a sign of how far his healing has come. He wants someone for himself, wants to be spoilt and cherished. The problem is simply that, for Magnus, he's just one of many clients, probably one he's fond of, but that's all.

"Are you alright, Alexander?"

Alec realises he's been stalling for too long. He swallows around the lump in his throat and clears his throat. "Yes, Sir. Thank you for…" Hell, how is he supposed to end this sentence? "The candles." Alec frowns at his own words. As eloquent as he can be, sometimes, he's really not good with words.

But Magnus only chuckles lowly. "Thank me afterwards," he says with a wink, and Alec nods, unsure what this might mean. "Lie down on your front," the dom orders. "I will blindfold you."

Alec lays down, the rubber feeling strange against his skin. Magnus kneels down next to him, and Alec watches with fascination how he removes every single one of his rings. He has never seen Magnus without any before, and it feels intimate all over again. Alec curses his stupid brain that wants to see patterns where none exist. This is only a measurement for whatever is about to come. Nothing more.

Magnus takes the blindfold he prepared earlier, and puts it over Alec's eyes, bereaving him of the beautiful view at his dominant. After a moment, warm, oily hands touch Alec's back, cover the skin over his shoulder blades and lower back. They disappear for a moment and return to his bottom, eliciting a surprised yelp. Magnus chuckles. "I'll get you really oily, sweet boy. You'll see later why."

So, no normal massage then. Alec racks his brain about what Magnus might need him all slicked up for. He comes back empty-handed.

Sir massages the oil into his skin until he's slick from neck to toes. It's nice. After the night Alec had, he's short of drifting off when a trickle of something hot hitting his spine lets him startle to alert. He groans. The heat subsides quickly, but Alec can still feel the point of impact.

The next trickles are more expected but no less surprising. They are hotter now and Whatever it is, it sprinkles over his whole back.

Alec twitches, his mouth alternating between winces and yelps. It's not really painful, but on the other hand, it somehow is. This isn't fire. Alec knows the feeling of flames licking over his skin. Besides, Magnus would never hurt him like this. It's off-limits.

Thank me afterwards.

It hits Alec like a wrecking ball. Wax. Magnus is dripping liquid wax on him! Now that he knows what he's dealing with, one might think it's easier for him to handle. It sadly isn't.

A thousand questions run through his head. Is this safe? He had patients with serious burns after sexy times involving wax play in the ER. He never looked too closely into the topic. This wouldn't have been something Sebastian would have liked—too much mess and care involved.

Alec trusts Magnus, but he can't shut up the doctor side of himself.

"Yellow," he says, heart nearly beating out of his chest.

The dripping stops immediately, and a tender hand cards through Alec's hair. "What is it, darling boy?"

"I don't mean to be disrespectful, Sir," he starts, voice wavering. It's just the second time he safeworded, and it's still such a foreign concept to see himself be heard and respected like that. He swallows hard. "I know you care a lot about safety, Sir, but I can't help but worry…"

Magnus' fingers card through his hair, erasing the worry of probably speaking out of turn spreading through Alec's mind.

"You should trust me, but I get why you can't fully. All candles I'm using on you are made of soy and paraffin, so have a lower melting point than beeswax, for example. They all are made to a standard that guarantees not to create hotspots. I'm well-versed in the technique, and I'm giving workshops about wax play as well as doing art installations. Do you feel safe to continue, darling?"

Alec nods behind his blindfold. "Yes, Sir. Green."

"Good boy. You already look so beautiful, Alexander. I will take a picture for you when we're done."

"Thank you, Sir."

Another picture for his private photo album. Alec smiles. He wonders what Magnus would say if he told him about it, about how pride and gratitude spread through him, whenever he opens it. He sees himself through Magnus' eyes, sees how he can be good, and perfect, and beautiful in his imperfection. Alec isn't sure if he will ever share this secret with his dominant. Not that Magnus would ever make fun of him, but still.

Magnus covers Alec's body with more wax, drops it over his legs, bottom, back and arms. Alec can feel the weight of layers building up, the wax a cocoon that hurts less and less, but feels as if Magnus were protecting him from the outside world, a shell of safety growing as the dom pours more and more wax over his sub.

It's hard to stay still, not to break the first thin layers. But Alec can do this for Magnus, who takes such good care of him. He can't wait to see the pictures. Magnus is an artist, and Alec relishes being his canvas.

Chapter Text

That's not what Alec expected to find on the other side of the door today. That's not what he expected to see ever. His heart clenches painfully in his chest. This is more intimate than any time he has seen Magnus before, and they haven't even changed a single word.

Magnus is half-lying on his chaise longue, his unsocked feet tucked under. The satin pyjama bottoms fit the dressing gown that Magnus wears in lieu of a top, and Alec swallows hard when he realises how bare Magnus is compared to usual.

His hair is wet and brushed to the side, giving him the softest of looks. His eyes are rimmed with black kohl, but that's all. No eye shadow, no lipgloss, no nail polish. No rings, no ear cuff, just a single pendant on a leather band around his neck. Magnus smiles at him as if he were his sun, and Alec swallows hard.

"Hello, darling. How was your morning?"

Alec's heart misses a beat. Surroundings aside, this is strangely domestic. As if he came home from his morning run, his boyfriend lounging in the living room, listening to classical music. His heart swells with yearning.

"G-good, Mag-Sir. And yours?"

Magnus' smile grows wide, just shy of a grin. "Perfect, my sweet boy. I slept in. Didn't get ready for the day yet. I thought you could help me with that."

Oh.

"I'd love to," Alec replies eagerly. It doesn't matter that this is fake as hell. Their whole 'relationship' is. Magnus surely didn't take a cab in this attire, much less the subway. But who cares? Right now, Alec couldn't think of anything better.

"What do you want me to do, Sir?" he asks with a wavering voice.

"Whatever you think would do me good." Magnus taps against the coffee table that holds an assortment of things—tubes, glass containers with cremes, nail polish, towels, and other supplies. Alec isn't sure if he knows half of the products, but he's going to make this work.

"Please, undress to your underwear and kneel, my darling boy."

Alec smiles and does as told. Magnus stretches out on the chaise longue and watches him. Alec doesn't blush anymore under his gaze. It just feels nice, comfortable, familiar—a warm, touchless caress.

Alec kneels next to the coffee table and lets his eyes wander over the display. Everything is already used, so he guesses it's from Magnus' private stash.

He reads the label of a foot rub. He did that with Izzy once, so he starts with that. Alec lays a towel under Magnus' feet and massages the rub in. Not that these feet needed much scrubbing anyway. Magnus seems to take good care of them. Unlike Alec, who blushes fiercely thinking about the calluses on his own.

"Focus on me, boy," Magnus orders as if he knew where his mind went.

"I'm sorry, Sir."

Magnus hums and takes a sip from his teacup. "This is my favourite piano sonata by Mozart. Do you like classical music?" he asks his submissive.

"I guess. I'm not an expert. My brother is the musician in the family. I think I heard him playing this one. It's beautiful."

Magnus nods. "I always wanted to learn how to play the piano. Maybe I should, now that I have a bit of time on my hands."

"You have?"

Magnus looks at him with an unreadable expression on his face. "Yes." Alec doesn't probe. It's not his place to ask personal questions. "What are your hobbies, darling?"

Alec glances from Magnus' feet up to his face. "I used to do archery when I was younger. Stopped when I joined active duty. Now I mainly read."

"What kind of books?"

Alec chuckles and grabs the wet wipes from the coffee table. "Everything from thrillers to romantic novels. I'm not really picky. Just no non-fiction. I have to read enough stuff for work, you know?" He chews his lip. Was that too casual? If so, then Magnus doesn't comment on it. Alec finishes removing the rub remnants and grabs a foot cream.

"But you seem to love textbooks, Sir."

Magnus smiles at him. "You're very attentive, darling. Yes. I find the human psyche fascinating. I love reading biographies and memoirs as well. In literature, I prefer the old masters and mistresses."

Alec chuckles. "I thought you'd do, Sir."

They fall into a long silence after that, only Mozart filling the space between them.

Alec moves from the feet to Magnus' hands, repeats the same procedure with suitable products. Magnus' hands are just as nursed as his feet, only callused where the rings rubbed against the skin.

When Alec is done, he presses a soft kiss to the back of either hand, eyes carefully averted as his cheeks blush crimson.

"Do you wish for a special regime for your face, Sir?"

Alec remembers how picky Izzy is about her morning and nighttime routine. He doesn't want to mess this up.

"Just the serum, and then the day cream. Thank you, sweet boy," Magnus replies and slides down a little to give Alec easy access to his face, closing his eyes.

Alec brushes the hair out of Magnus' face. He's so damn beautiful from up close. Alec stares at him for a long moment until he shakes himself out of it. He reads the instructions on the serum and pats it into his dominant's skin, careful not to smudge the eyeliner.

"What else do you do when you're not working?" Magnus asks.

Alec shrugs even though Sir can't see it. "Not much. Meet my siblings and friends. I like going out for brunch."

Magnus hums. "What are your favourite spots to go to?"

Alec wraps the broken vial of the serum into a cosmetic tissue. "I was at Clinton St. Bakery yesterday."

Magnus moans. "Did you have their pancakes?"

"Yes. They are amazing."

"They're the best. Went with my friend and her daughter there once. They are very child friendly."

Alec smiles at the image the comment paints in his mind. Magnus is surely great with kids. Just another selling point. As if Alec needed any more.

He sighs quietly and takes Magnus' day cream. He brushes his fingers tenderly over his dom's skin, massages the cream softly into it. Magnus is so many things, and Alec wants to discover them all, wants to know the man behind the title and the magnificent demeanour.

It becomes clearer by the minute that Alec is on a way of no return. He has to make a decision—either he confesses his feelings to Magnus or he stops scening with him to be free for someone else. Both options are daunting for different reasons.

"Do you want kids of your own, Sir?" Alec asks before it can go through his filter.

"With the right partner? Why not? I love my goddaughter. I often have her with me. Her mom is working shifts. She has a fully stuffed room in my apartment."

Alec smiles at that. Why does Magnus have to be this perfect? And why the hell is he single? Or maybe he isn't. Why would he talk about a partner with a client?

Alec stares at the nail varnish. The worry of using it at least takes his mind off stupid questions. "My sister-in-law is expecting, and I hope I can support her when my brother is assigned overseas," he says. "She'll come back to New York, coz she has family here."

"You're a very caring person, Alexander."

Alec shakes the nail polish as he has seen his sister do and shrugs. "It's what everyone would do for their friends and family."

"You're not giving yourself enough credit, darling. Many people live their lives after the motto 'Everyone for themself'."

"You don't," Alec points out, painting Magnus' pinky with a concentrated frown on his face.

"I owe my life to my friends. They didn't drop me like a hot potato in times of need. It's only just to do the same for them. And looking after M isn't really a shore."

"She surely has a good male role model in you."

Magnus raises his eyebrows and exhales audibly. "I hope you're right."

They fall into silence again, and later, with all ten fingers and toes painted prettily, Alec leaves their session with praises and the feeling of accomplishment. Screw possible lovers. He won't risk losing what he has with his dom for a man who may not even exist in the first place. And maybe—just maybe—he'll dare tell Magnus how he feels, soon.

Chapter Text

Something has changed between them. Alec can feel it. He had been elated after the grooming scene. Magnus had allowed him to see parts of his private persona, and today, as Alec arrived on Magnus' doorstep, he was ready to ask him out. But then...

Alec hopes it's just a bad day, or that Magnus planned this for some reason Alec simply doesn't understand. But it stings nonetheless. And it's not only the degradation of being used as a footstool, or the fact that even the plushest carpet hurts his knees and elbows after a while. It's the fact that Magnus has only smiled at him once at the beginning, and has been silent since he ordered him to undress, and then, to get on all fours for him.

Usually, he at least checks on him, or brushes a hand through his hair, praises him for how good he is in keeping still. This time, though, he doesn't. There's a chasm between them that hurts even more after the closeness of their previous scene.

Magnus feels distant. Not cold, exactly, the few words he spoke were soft and kind as always, but since then…

Alec is mainly confused. Even the very first time they scened together, Magnus felt closer than now.

Alec moves his right shoulder just enough to ease the strain a little without disturbing his dominant's resting feet on his back. Then he does the same with the left. He wiggles his toes. He can't remember Magnus keeping him in this position for so long before.

Usually, Alec likes this. Magnus developed a sense for the days Alec felt useless and lost. Being a footstool always helped him ground himself, made him feel helpful, a valuable tool for his dominant's comfort.

At other times, this position had been used as a punishment, a timeout to think about a transgression, may it have been directed towards himself or his dom. Never had Magnus used it just so, on an ordinary day, with Alec in high spirits and without even the chance to make a mistake.

There's something Alec must oversee. Or it has truly nothing to do with him, and Magnus just simply doesn't have the spoons to scene with him in more demanding ways. He's only human, after all.

Yes, maybe it's that. Maybe his dom is stressed or tired. Maybe he has other important work to do. He has a binder on his knees, reads and takes notes as it seems. Not that Alec would have a chance to see what's so important that Magnus brought it to work.

'It's none of your business,' Alec reminds himself. He is the submissive. In a scene, he does as told. What difference does the reasoning make? If Magnus feels bad and Alec is making him feel better this way—awesome. If Magnus has more important things to take care of—also fine. Alec doesn't pay for attention, he pays for dominance. And that is what Magnus is clearly giving him.

His love confession can wait another week.

Chapter Text

It's week five after the first not-asking-out, and Alec's crush hasn't subsided, but his courage to act on his feelings has.

Magnus is still a perfect dom, gives him the dominance he craves, but he's reserved with the affection he shows. Alec won't kid himself. His dom builds distance on purpose. Yes, he still holds him after scenes, still brushes his hand through his hair, still praises him to the skies. But there are no kisses against his temple anymore, and whenever Magnus binds him, it's in ways that don't need a lot of body contact. Alec misses it, misses Magnus, even though he has him every week.

His dom probably caught up on his feelings and does the responsible thing. Alec should be grateful that Sir doesn't lead him on, now that he knows. But all he can feel is bereaved. If it weren't for his stupid feelings, he could still have it all. It's his fault that his dom has to change his behaviour. And what a burden he must be for Magnus, who works hard to just be Sir to him.

Alec misses their after-scene drinks, the friendly talks, the fooling about between Magnus, Maia, and him. It's stupid, because Magnus is still a great dom, gives him tasks and challenges, pushes his boundaries, brings him to his knees, and builds him up again. Alec still feels good after a scene, accomplished. But he's yearning, and the clear rejection stings, despite not being openly verbalised.

Dr Gray says it's okay, that he needs to work through his feelings, that he should probably be on the look-out for another dom*me. But in spite of all that, Alec doesn't want to. He just needs to get a grip on himself. He should have never let it come so far, and now, he needs to act as he should have right from the start. He won't mess up the best D/s relationship he ever had with something as stupid and unnecessary as feelings.

He re-installed his dating app, went on a few dates. He even considered going further with some of the men, but he didn't. He doesn't need to fuck someone to weed out the feelings he harbours for his dom. That's not him, and he won't add insult to injury.

Still, today, Alec is wrung out even before the spanking session begins. Magnus binds him to the St Andrew's cross with practised hands and warms the skin of his bottom efficiently. Then he moves to the paddles. Not even for pain, he allows himself to touch his client too much. Because that's what Alec is to him, first and foremost. It doesn't matter that the thought hurts more than the strokes. Alec needs to go through this, and if a few tears pass his tight control, so be it.

He's done being strong. He's done being the one taking every beating with gritted teeth and grunts. Maybe it's better that way. Maybe it's good that Magnus makes him feel so many things. Not all emotions are nice, and he's still Magnus' good boy, so why the fuzz?

He loves his dom. His dom doesn't love him back but helps him to get through this. He doesn't drop him like a hot brick just because he caught feelings. Sir shows him his place—strict and with kindness. It's different than before but still as good on a professional level.

Dr Gray said he was in mourning. Alec found it stupid, but now, with the flogger working over his back, with the brick wall in front of him, tears brimming his eyes, and a tight feeling in his chest, he must agree she was right.

And so, he lets go, allows the dam to open so that the flood might flush away the love he holds for this man and replace it with something sustainable.

He cries. He couldn't stop if he wanted to. Every stroke zinging through his body allows another stream. It feels good, freeing. It's terrible because he wants to hold on to it, doesn't want to believe that this love is one-sided. But it is. He simply misread the signs. It happens. It's sad, but it's true. Alec never had Magnus, and having Sir must be enough.

Magnus unties him and carries his aching body to the bed. Everything hurts. Everything hurts so good. The tight feeling in his chest gives way to something warmer. The tears still stream down his face in unending cascades.

Magnus brushes his thumb over Alec's cheek, murmurs words to him that don't register between the pounding of his body and the waterfall of grief. Alec rolls against Magnus' chest, and can barely keep himself from laughing when he feels the undeniable erection in Magnus' pants.

He doesn't care, doesn't want to care. It doesn't mean anything. It's just a physical reaction. The pants are probably just too tight. Alec angles his hips back and tucks himself under Magnus' chin.

"You're my perfect, beautiful boy," Sir says, voice tight with tears of his own. Why the hell is he crying now?

Alec doesn't ask, doesn't question why Magnus holds him tighter than any time before. He doesn't comment on his dom's smudged eyeliner or ask why the unending praise he rains down on him sounds like a goodbye. Maybe because deep down in his heart, he already knows the answer.

Chapter Text

The ringing of his doorbell pulls Alec from his slumber. His eyes are burning, and he probably looks like shit, but the shrill sound doesn't end, so he scrambles out of the bed and pushes the button of the intercom.

"Yeah," he croaks, trying hard to ignore the pounding in his head and the nausea spreading through his entire body.

"Alec? You missed our meeting and didn't answer my calls. I was worried."

Fuck!

"I'm alright Dr Gray. I'm sorry I stood you up. Won't happen again."

"Can I come up for a moment?"

Alec scans his living space. It's tidy enough if he hides the empty vodka bottle and pizza cartons in the kitchen.

"Sure." He presses the buzzer and thanks the heavens that he didn't undress last night. He leaves the door ajar and tidies up as good as he can, breathing deeply through his urge to embrace his toilet pan.

"You never missed an appointment before," Dr Gray says, making Alec jump.

"I'm really sorry. I'm not feeling well," he apologises.

Dr Gray sits down on his sofa. "I can see that. What happened?"

Alec thinks about lying, but he guesses they're on the clock, so why waste good money?

"My dom broke up with me… I mean, he told me that he will stop working, so we can't scene with each other anymore."

Dr Gray tilts her head to the side and nods. "And how does this make you feel?"

If it wouldn't risk him vomiting on the carpet, Alec would laugh. But he doesn't. "What does it look like?"

"I'm not here to assess your feelings, Alec. I'm here to help you verbalise them."

Alec sighs and runs a hand over his face. He slumps into an armchair. "You always do house calls?"

"Only if I worry about my patient."

"I'm not suicidal."

A small smile tugs on her lips. "Good to know."

They sit in silence for a while until Dr Gray speaks. "Break-ups are hard."

Alec huffs a laugh. "He wasn't my boyfriend."

"But you had a very close, intimate relationship with him. And recently, you struggled with the distance your dom built. Maybe he simply wanted to make the ending easier for you. He always struck me as a very considerate dom. If he knew he'd stop working…"

"Then why didn't he just tell me?" Alec asks, fixing his eyes on her. "It came out of the blue."

Dr Gray exhales long and audibly. "I can't give you that answer, Alec. I can only try to help you through the consequences."

Alec pushes his jaw forward and blows a breath through his nose. "Thanks, but I'm fine."

"Alcohol isn't a solution."

"I'm back to work tomorrow, so no worries. I just wanted to forget. I think I deserve a moment of weakness now and then."

Dr Gray doesn't comment on that. "Did you tell him about your feelings?"

Alec shakes his head, regretting it immediately. "It was a rather short phone call. He wanted to meet, but I knew what was coming. I don't need sugarcoating. So I asked him to just say what he had to tell me over the phone. And after that? Why even bother? It's clear that he doesn't reciprocate my feelings. He would have asked me to keep on scening privately if he did, wouldn't he?"

Dr Gray purses her lips. "Maybe he didn't want you to feel obligated to agree. Analysing emotions between a submissive and their dominant can be complicated. It's only sensible to take a step back and evaluate your relationship beyond the D/s dynamic. You two worked together for nearly two years, after all."

"Yes. Emphasis on work. I was never more than a client to him." The thought hurts like hell, but it's the simple truth. He went to Magnus and paid to be intimate with him, not much different than a prostitute. He may have never touched him sexually, but his dom fulfilled a desire—both physically and mentally—and he did it likely as rationally as a sex worker serves their clients.

Magnus doesn't owe him anything. It's not his fault that Alec fell in love with him. He may not even know about his feelings for him if Dr Gray's analysis is right. Maybe Magnus really only wanted to make the farewell easier for him. The thought soothes some of Alec's fraying edges.

"It's gonna be alright. I just need to forget him." God, this is awful. Tears brim his eyes, and Alec presses the heels of his hands against them. He didn't cry during the worst parts of retelling his story to his therapist, and now he wants to bawl? Pathetic!

"Maybe you should talk. Have a proper goodbye?" Dr Gray suggests.

Alec nods, even though he already knows that he won't use Magnus' number ever again.

"You look like you could need a pick-me-up," Catarina states the next morning.

"That's an understatement," Alec groans. True to his word, he hasn't touched a drop of alcohol since Dr Gray left. He still feels like shit. He's not used to shooting himself off like that.

Catarina lays a hand on his arm. "Can I do something for you?"

Alec gives her a lopsided smile. "Nah, I'm good. Just keep Aldertree in check."

"I always do," she says and leaves him with a cocky grin.

"I know what would cheer you up," Catarina says as she sinks into the reception chair two days later.

"Who says I need cheering up?"

Catarina only raises an eyebrow, and Alec chuckles. They've worked together for too long. She looks right through his paper-thin facade.

"Okay. What is it?"

Catarina looks around conspiratorially. "I told you about my friend? The professional dom?"

Alec nods, scanning their surroundings. "Yeah?"

"He actually owns a club."

Alec's insides swirl around as if they wanted to reenact the Alien birth scene, but he manages to keep a neutral face. He hums, acknowledging her words.

"He wrote a book about his work. It's a more digestible version of his dissertation."

"A dom, a club owner, and a doctor? Colour me impressed."

Catarina chuckles. "He always accepted every challenge in his life. The stories I could tell you. You wouldn't believe half of it. He's the sweetest, and kindest man I know. And smart. Too smart for his own good."

"Is he single?" Alec jokes.

"He actually is. Helplessly in love, but…" She shrugs. "Did I mention that he's a coward on rare occasions?"

Alec raises his eyebrows. That guy is not the only coward Catarina knows.

"Why are you telling me all this?"

Catarina leans forward. "His big book release party is next Saturday. I meant to go with a mutual friend, but there was a miscommunication and she got her own invitation and already has a plus one. That's where you come into play."

Alec leans against the reception counter. "I don't know, Cat. I'm pretty busy."

"Moping?"

"I'm not moping."

Catarina chuckles. "Whatever it is, please don't let me be a fifth wheel. It's gonna be fun. I bet you look dashing in a suit."

It's truly pathetic how every detail in his life reminds him of Magnus, even something stupid like a suit. He wouldn't have worn it to the medical congress if it weren't for him.

"So, it's not a patent and leather party."

Catarina grins. "No. My friend is rather unusual in this regard. He has his very unique style. So, is this a yes?"

Alec worries the inside of his cheek. "I'm not sure if I'm good company right now."

"I heard the caterer is the best in New York. And there's an open bar."

Alec chuckles. "I hope they have good mocktails."

"The bartender is also the best in town," she smirks.

Alec closes his eyes. He promised himself to move on. Maybe checking out a new club isn't the worst, and in a relaxed environment with no BDSM etiquette, it's probably less daunting than on a normal day.

"Okay. Where do we meet?"

Catarina beams at him. "I'll pick you up. Your home's on the way."

Chapter Text

Alec wriggles about on his car seat. "What's the name of the club we're going to?" he asks, trying hard to keep his nervousness out of his voice.

"Pandemonium. Do you know it?"

Alec's mouth runs dry, and his heart beats faster in his chest. He didn't expect to return so soon. He had talked with Lydia, but their first appointment is a few weeks in the future. She promised him that he wouldn't run into Magnus by mistake. How she could guarantee that, Alec didn't ask. Maybe Magnus frequents other dungeons privately. Who knows?

"I used to sub there."

Catarina's eyes widen. "With a partner or…?"

"I went to a professional dom. But he stopped working. So, your friend owns it?" Alec answers quickly, not willing to get into his private life any further.

"Yes, Alec. Your dom…"

Alec pushes the door open even though the taxi hasn't fully stopped yet. He can't talk with his colleague about his broken heart. This evening is supposed to be fun. Catarina can count her free evenings on one hand for months in a row. Alec knows that. He won't mess it up with his non-existent love life.

He offers Catarina his hand and praises her beautiful dress that he can only take in fully now that she's standing.

"Alec. We should probably talk."

He shakes his head. "Cat. I'm fine. Is Maia tending the bar?" Catarina nods. "Then, you didn't lie. She is the best in town."

"Alec, who was your dom?"

Alec rolls his eyes. "It doesn't matter. Come on. Let's get this party started."

Catarina opens her mouth to protest, but Raphael spots the two. "Well, well, well, look who's back."

For a moment, Alec thinks he's talking to him, but then, Raphael pulls Catarina in and kisses her on the cheek. "I missed you."

"Missed you, too. But with work…"

"...and the boss not being here so often… I get it. Nice that you came tonight."

Catarina smiles. "I wouldn't miss it for the world. This is my plus one. I think you know him?"

Raphael nods and worries his lip. "Does the boss know he's coming?"

Catarina shakes her head, somewhere between a yes and a no. "I said I'd bring someone from work."

Raphael's lips curl into a smile. "How small the world is. I hope you'll enjoy the evening."

"I'm sure we will," Alec answers, more on reflex than anything else. This conversation was weird at best, and he's happy to leave it behind.

He steps through the brocade curtain and holds it open for his companion. Catarina grabs his arm. "Alec, we need to talk. My friend is…"

"Magnus Bane," Alec breathes, frozen to the spot.

"So, it is you," she says, a strange mix of emotions flickering over her face.

"What do you mean?" Alec asks, furrowing his eyebrow as he stares at the book display and pop-up poster showing Magnus holding his book.

"I swear. I didn't know. He didn't share any details, none that could have identified you."

Alec turns his face. "What are you talking about, Cat?"

"Catarina? Oh, what a pleasure to see you again," a man calls over. A man who is accompanied by someone who looks suspiciously like Alec's therapist.

This must be a dream, a nightmare even.

Alec goes through the motions of getting introduced to Dr Gray's partner—in life and work—Dr Jem Carstairs. He suggests first names for the evening, and Alec nods on autopilot.

This must be a joke! How can all parts of his life come together in this one place? The only thing missing is Jace jumping out from behind the curtain, yelling, "Surprise!"

"I think I need a drink," Alec says.

"Magnus pulled out his liquor license, today," Jem explains.

Alec will make good use of it, for sure.

"Are you, okay, Alec?" Tessa asks.

"Did you know?" he replies.

Tessa nods. "But I couldn't say anything. Confidentiality."

"Of course." Alec's head is swimming. Is Magnus a client or a friend of hers? Or both? He once told him that he had supervision now and then. But if she didn't tell him about Magnus, then she didn't tell Magnus about him either. Alec relaxes at the thought.

Why did she suggest telling Magnus about his feelings, again and again? Because she knew he would handle it well? Or because she knew that he felt the same?

"What do you wanna drink?" Alec asks Catarina. His shift-working colleague with the daughter she needs to leave with babysitters. With Magnus, he realises. Magnus, who ate pancakes with little Madzie.

Alec walks to the bar and orders a Caipirinha for Catarina and a double scotch for himself. Maia grins at him. "So, Magnus is the big boss here?" he asks after emptying half of his tumbler.

"Yes. I thought you knew."

"No. Just add that to the list of things I didn't know."

Maia furrows her brow but doesn't comment on that. "The show begins. I'm sure he'll be happy to see you." Her smile is way too smug for Alec's taste. He downs the rest of the whiskey and orders a refill before he returns to Catarina with her cocktail.

She looks at him apologetically. But they can't talk as Magnus and a moderator step on the stage. He truly has a doctorate in psychology, as it turns out. 'That explains the textbooks and the grading,' Alec thinks.

"Wanna sit down?" Catarina asks. Alec shakes his head and motions her to take a seat. He still hasn't decided if flight wouldn't be the better option, so he keeps to the back.

He listens to Magnus talking about the history of kinks being seen as psychological disorders and the change that came over the last decade or so. Magnus explains the intersectionality of BDSM with LGBTQ+ themes, feminism, and sex work. He points out the groundbreaking research done by his thesis supervisor Prof. Theresa Gray.

Alec can't pull his eyes off of him. Magnus looks tired, but Alec is convinced he's one of the very few people in this room who can see that. He's dressed to the nines and his makeup is rather tame, still, not missing the glitter that always makes his already sparkling eyes shine even brighter.

Catarina was right. He has a very unique style. Alec could kick himself that he didn't connect the dots. Granted, a few important ones were missing. But still.

The scripted interview becomes an open one, and Alec realises that the majority of guests are journalists. Some ask brilliant questions, and Magnus answers them with ease. Some clearly have no clue of the subject, but Magnus answers just as kindly.

The too-familiar longing spreads through Alec's chest, tightens his heart, and makes it difficult to breathe. He loves this man, and now that he knows even more about him, his awe and love threaten to shatter him into a million pieces.

No wonder that Magnus didn't want him. He's a specialist for the human psyche, and Alec is broken. He may be better now, Sebastian only a rare guest in his mind, but Magnus has seen into his soul, has seen his scars, those on his skin and those invisible to the eye. Who would want to be with a freak like him? Did Magnus write about him? Is he one of his objects of study?

Alec's flight instinct is winning land minute by minute. But if he leaves now, he will never see Magnus again. And maybe it's pitiful, but Alec can't tear his eyes from him—the way Magnus carries himself, the ease he radiates, his beautifully moving hands that held and hurt Alec so well.

Alec closes his eyes and listens to Magnus' voice. Oh, how he loves this voice. He hates that it is interrupted by the reporters asking silly questions. Although he opens his eyes when Magnus is asked if ever a client fell in love with him.

"Yes. Several."

"And what did you do?"

Magnus takes a sip from his water glass and smiles. "The responsible thing. I built distance. Submissives can build a strong connection to their dominant, and it can easily be misinterpreted as love. A dominant's job is to take care of their submissive, and distance usually helps to untangle the different emotions. The submissive realises that their love isn't romantic, but a strong bond between them and their dom, as it should be in a professional context."

Another journalist raises her hand. "Did you ever fall in love with one of your clients?"

Alec straightens instinctively. Not that he harbours any hope. What Magnus just explained is exactly what he did with him. Without success, truth be told. So his love for Magnus is real. Not that it would matter.

Magnus takes his time to answer the question. He scans the rows until his eyes fix on Catarina. Didn't she say she wasn't part of the scene and Magnus just a friend?

"I did," Magnus finally says, as if coming to a decision. "After many years of working in the business, I thought I was immune." He raises an eyebrow and quirks an unconvincing smile.

"And what did you do?" the journalist probes.

Magnus breathes a sigh. "I did the same. Tried to create distance in the hope that I would be able to rationalise the feelings and come to the same conclusions—that it wasn't truly love, but misunderstood bonding. But at some point, I couldn't deny that I had deep feelings for this client."

He worries his lip before he continues. "By that time, I had reduced my clientele more and more. He was the last I let go after scening only with him for months. I realised that I wouldn't be able to not let my feelings seep into our scenes, and so, I ended our business relationship."

Alec's heart runs a thousand miles a minute. This can't be true, can it? He? Magnus' last client? Alec watches over to Catarina, who smiles at him knowingly.

Magnus loves him back. Magnus thought he couldn't have him so he let him go. What idiots they've been. They could have had it all along!

"Did you ask him out?" the reporter asks.

Magnus shakes his head. "I didn't. And I might regret it for the rest of my life."

"I think you should," someone calls from the back, and heads turn to face its source. "I think you should ask him out," Alec says, stepping out of the shadows.

Magnus' eyes grow wide and his lips part in bewilderment. But shock morphs easily to joyous surprise. "You think?" Magnus asks.

Alec smiles at him and nods.

"Maybe I should," Magnus agrees, his smile putting the sun to shame. "I think you're right."