Chapter Text
The tiny village in Scotland only had so much to offer. While the cows were indeed "really good", as Martin had so articulately put it, there were only so many walks you could go for before the rain and inevitable boredom set in for good.
And Jon needed a decent distraction.
Being away from the Archives was taking its toll. He had been practically starving and he had no intention of extracting anything from Martin. He refused to allow himself to do so. Stale statements sent from Basira would have to do. It was a rough diet, but he could control himself, he had to. He suddenly thought of Daisy and briefly wondered how she’d been faring. He felt his mind begin to expand reflexively, feeling at the edge between wondering and knowing and he instantly recoiled, forcing his thoughts back to the present.
They were laying low. He was trying not to see things. He needed to fix his sights on the here and now.
Mindfulness. That’s what Martin had called it. Meditation, relaxation, focus on your breathing, that sort of stuff.
Grounding.
"Right... Right," Jon muttered under his breath as he looked around the room.
The thin white cushion that had been tossed on the raw wood chair in the corner. The worn red rug covering the floorboards. His steaming cup of tea. The more polished wooden table in the centre of the room. The squat round lamp that sat atop it. Five things you can see. Physically see, he reminded himself.
He shut his eyes.
The steady clear tick of the clock. The drizzle of rain falling on the roof and soaking the ground outside. His own steady breathing. His fingers drumming lightly on the table. Four things you can hear.
The cool air in the room on his skin. The cracked old leather of the sofa he was sat on. The hardwood table under his fingers. Three things you can feel.
He breathed in slowly through his nose.
Freshly brewed tea. The wet ground outside. Two things you can smell.
Jon took a sip of tea. It was warm and slightly astringent from over-brewing.
One thing you can taste.
Martin always made the better cup of tea.
He took a deep breath and letting it out, felt himself relax a little. The little grounding exercise helped, but it was always only a temporary fix.
Heavy footsteps outside and the flustered shaking of an umbrella at the door calmed his nerves further. Martin was back.
He hadn’t even been gone long, just enough time to go down to the shops and pick up a few supplies - sometimes the road between the village and the safehouse flooded in the heavy rain and they didn’t want to get caught out. Jon had stayed behind to read a statement, but it had only unsettled his thoughts and left him feeling almost as empty as when he'd started.
He met Martin at the door, disappointed he couldn’t really help in any way, instead bringing his umbrella and wet shoes in to dry before following him to the kitchen.
“See any good cows?”
Martin laughed. “Sadly no, I think they all wanted to be out of the rain today.”
Jon looked out the window, the rain was coming down harder now. “Can hardly blame them.”
“Statement any good?” Martin asked cautiously, putting cans of something that looked like it could be fruit away in the cupboard.
Jon sighed. “A bit dry really. A minor run in with something that might’ve been the Stranger’s doing. Pretty pedestrian by our standards.”
“Isn’t everything pedestrian by our standards now?” Martin said with a smirk.
Jon huffed a tired laugh. “Yes, I suppose it is.”
Martin put away the last of the supplies and closed the cupboards, finally leaning against the kitchen counter to look down at Jon. He wore an expression of concern.
“What?” Jon asked.
“You haven’t been… y’know, seeing anything?”
Jon shook his head resolutely. “I’ve been doing my best not to…”
“ ...But? ” Martin sensed the word Jon had withheld.
Jon sighed. “But I’ve been finding it hard to stay… present. It’s all too easy for my mind to wander off, to go looking. This isn’t exactly the most riveting environment for distractions.” Jon gestured to the exceedingly plain surroundings of the interior of the cottage, and outside the window, where the rain fell onto the empty, rolling hills surrounding them.
“Yeah, I can see what you mean,” Martin conceded.
Jon ran a hand through his shaggy, greying hair. “I need a distraction.”
Martin looked around before opening a cupboard and rifling through it, picking out a box and shaking it. “There’s always Scrabble?”
Jon shook his head with a small smile. “I am all Scrabbled out, Martin.”
Martin pulled a face and started looking around, leaving the box on the table. “Surely Daisy had something fun to do around here to kill time.”
Jon snorted. “For Daisy, something fun could’ve been killing her victims…” he started a laugh, but stopped it short. “Oh, joking about that makes me a heartless bastard, doesn’t it?”
“Little bit, yeah,” Martin agreed. “Doesn’t mean it’s not a bit funny though,” he added with a cheeky grin. He pulled open what looked like a utility cupboard and found several coils of rope, duct tape and assorted cable ties. “Or true, apparently.”
“Ah,” Jon exclaimed, catching sight of the contents of the cupboard. “That’s uh, yes. That.”
Martin closed the cupboard slowly, eyes lingering on the rope. Jon turned to continue his search for entertainment, but Martin looked back at the cupboard, ideas now trickling through his mind and tugging at his curiosity.
“There is…” Martin started quietly. “No, you wouldn’t be interested, never mind.”
“Wouldn’t be interested in what? ” Jon asked, intrigued, but careful with his tone.
Martin blushed. “No, it’s… it’s silly. And a little embarrassing.”
Jon’s eyebrows knitted together. “Martin, look at me, I’m desperate. You could tell me you’re a qualified yoga instructor right now and I would beg you to give me lessons.”
Martin let out a quiet chuckle. “Really? You’d beg me?”
“I would be in downward facing dog before you could say namaste.”
At that, Martin laughed, finally looking back at Jon and biting his lip. “Alright, but remember, it’s just a suggestion, and I would never ask you otherwise, and besides, I don’t even think you’d-”
“Martin!”
“I could… I could try tying you up?”
Jon blinked in silence.
Martin blushed deeper and could barely hide the apprehension in his voice. “I used to have a friend- a partner, a- uh, a boyfriend, back when I was in college. It wasn’t very serious, he was into um, some of that um, sh-shibari, it’s called, like ornamental tying? Not in a sexual way or anything, although I know some people who... it just, it used to be sort of a grounding thing for him. That’s... why I suggested it.”
There was a beat of silence as Jon processed the words.
Martin shook his head. “I told you it was-”
“Yes,” Jon blurted out. “I think... I think I’d like to try that.”
Martin’s mouth hung open, staring, before he suddenly realised and snapped it shut, stuttering, “Ok… ok. Cool. Yeah.” He swallowed, let out a breath and smiled.
Jon couldn’t help but smile back.
“Ok. Cool.”
There was a moment where they each said nothing, but became used to the idea, like adjusting to the temperature after stepping into a warm bath.
Martin was the one to break the silence. “So, um, now ?”
“I don’t see why not? Is there anything we need to do to, you know, prepare?”
Martin shook his head. “Not really, no. I mean, you might want to stretch or relax a bit or something - a warm shower is nice before a session.”
“I actually had one a bit before, I’m feeling pretty relaxed physically.”
“Same, actually,” Martin agreed, sounding almost surprised at his own words.
“So, to the bedroom?” Jon ventured.
Martin half shrugged. “It’s really up to you. It doesn’t have to be a bedroom thing if you don’t want it to be. The bed is soft, so it’s a good starting point, and it’s elevated so it makes it a bit easier to um, reach.”
Jon shifted a little. He hadn’t considered it until Martin brought it up, but the bedroom did seem very… intimate. It didn't feel wrong though. The bed in the safehouse was particularly comfortable, although if he was honest with himself, he wasn't sure if it was purely the bed or the feeling of sharing it with someone that made it so. Martin was a very good -and warm- sleeping partner.
“The bed is good.”
Martin nodded, retrieving the rope from the cupboard and a pair of scissors, as a precaution. Jon led the way to the bedroom and Martin followed, noticing how silent Jon’s footsteps were, socks barely leaving an imprint in the carpet as he walked. He knew Jon was tough; you don't survive contact with a dozen odd avatars of fear unless you are, after all. But he did have all the scars to show for it. And lately, away from his own entity, effectively “dieting” as he had been, well, he felt a bit fragile. Martin reassured himself he would be very slow and gentle.
“Do we need like a… safe word or anything?” Jon asked, almost as if reading his thoughts -a little unnerving- as he turned to sit on the edge of the bed.
Martin thought for a moment. “We’ll use a traffic light system. Green for good, amber for when we’re maybe heading into territory that may not be fully comfortable, so, take it slow, and red is stop, I'll untie you immediately, no questions asked. Well, not before you’re untied, after of course I’ll want to talk about it so it doesn’t happen again… assuming you want it to happen again… I always like to che-”
“Martin,” Jon interrupted gently with a lopsided grin. “It’s ok, I get it.”
Martin nodded. “Good, good, just really wanted to make sure.”
“I trust you.”
The way Jon said it so plainly and how it sounded so genuine sent a feeling of warmth through Martin and put him at ease again.
“Ok,” Martin said, licking his lips and adjusting his glasses, “we’ll start with something simple. Are you comfortable in what you’re wearing?”
Jon looked down at his plain- ok, admittedly daggy- outfit of navy blue tracksuit bottoms and a lightweight grey jumper. He hadn’t planned on leaving the cottage anytime soon so comfort was his number one priority. He nodded. “Do I need to take anything off?”
“No, as long as you’re comfortable and not wearing anything too baggy that'll get in the way. This should be fine. Let me know if anything hurts at any time, ok? I don’t want to hurt you.”
Jon looked confused. “I thought it was meant to hurt? Sort of, anyway.”
Martin’s eyes went wide. “Oh. Well, it can, but… at least for now… let’s just go easy.”
Jon blushed slightly, but nodded, pushing himself further back on the bed but Martin gently placed warm hands on his narrow shoulders and dragged him forward again.
For what felt like the first time, Jon took a moment to properly appreciate the difference in their frames. Martin was very tall and proportionately large, his hands easily wrapping all the way over Jon’s shoulders, fingers spreading down his shoulder blades, thumbs extending effortlessly down into the hollow beneath his collarbone, his grip firm but not intimidating. Despite their size difference, being around Martin never made Jon feel small; perhaps that was why it seemed like such a contrast now.
Martin uncoiled a length of rope, then twisted it in his hands, skilfully reorganising it into a workable loop. He found the centre point of the rope and folded it, pulling the ends through his other hand and straightening out the strands until the full length was now folded double.
“Ready?” Martin asked, a calm air of authority seeming to come over him.
Jon nodded, humming assent.
Martin nodded in return. “Stand up for me. I want you to fold your arms behind your back with your wrists together, and grab your opposite forearm, like this.” He demonstrated grabbing his arm near the elbow with the hand not holding the rope and Jon understood, standing and folding his arms behind his back obediently. Martin placed a hand on Jon’s shoulder and guided him to turn around.
“Green?” He asked.
Jon nodded. “Green,” he repeated quietly. He felt Martin’s hands wrap the rope over his wrists, careful and gentle, even with the fabric of his jumper as a buffer between the rope and his skin. He closed his eyes and focused on the sensations, Martin’s warm hands and the rope sliding over his arms as Martin tied it off firmly and tested the knot.
“Green?”
“Green,” Jon agreed, noting his breath getting deeper.
“I’m going to do a simple box tie, it’s not particularly straining, but the rope will go around your chest, is that ok?”
Jon nodded again.
“Remember, amber if you need me to slow down, red if you want to stop, ok?”
Jon smiled and rolled his eyes. “Yes, Martin, I’ve got it, I promise.”
Martin smiled and turned his attention back to the rope, pulling the loose ends tight around Jon’s arm and wrapping it around his chest, almost pulling him into a hug from behind as his arms encircled Jon with the rope.
Jon relaxed and let Martin work, the pressure from the rope a lingering presence in his consciousness. Reminding him he was here.
“It, uh, feels kind of nice, actually,” Jon muttered quietly as Martin did something to the rope at his back before passing it back around his front again, in the opposite direction this time, the pressure increasing ever so slightly. Martin chuckled quietly and continued working behind Jon’s back, tying off the rope in such a way that Jon’s arms were gently pulled up towards his shoulder blades in a not-entirely-unpleasant way.
Jon hummed at the sensation.
“How’s that feel?” Martin asked, stepping back and letting Jon turn back around on his own.
Jon tested the bonds, wiggling his fingers and drumming them against his forearms before rolling his shoulders and testing the rope at his chest with a deep breath in that was just slightly constricted at the top. It was surprisingly effective and oddly comfortable.
“Definitely better than the last several times I’ve been tied up,” he admitted with a grin. “I can see why people like this, actually. It’s like, not having to be in control… It’s almost meditative.”
Martin blushed. “I will admit, I do quite enjoy being the one in control sometimes.” He playfully nudged Jon backwards, sending him toppling onto the bed with a quiet yelp. Jon squirmed for a moment, unable to right himself immediately without the use of his arms. Martin sat on the edge of the bed and pulled him upright to sit next to him, chuckling.
Jon pretended to pout, but the way his face flushed suggested he was enjoying himself more than he let on.
“Very funny.”
“I thought so,” Martin grinned back.
They sat for a moment in comfortable silence, Jon leaned into Martin’s side, in part for stability, in part because the contact was comforting, warm. For the first time in a long time, he felt sleepy. Not tired, but like he could peacefully drift off to sleep here and now.
He pulled his legs up and folded them under himself to sit cross-legged on the bed, still leaning his head against Martin’s shoulder.
“Hey,” Martin nudged him with his shoulder. “You still good?”
“Mmhmm,” Jon hummed contentedly, lazily stretching his fingers out behind his back to check the blood flow.
Martin’s eyes glanced over Jon’s easy cross-legged position. “Do you think you can handle a leg bind?”
Jon cocked his head sideways inquisitively.
“Like this,” Martin again demonstrated, gently taking one of Jon’s ankles and guiding it up so his calf was flush with his thigh. “You’re certainly flexible enough.”
“Oh. Yes, sure, I mean, we can try.”
Martin re-positioned the pillows on the bed so they were behind Jon to support his back, mainly so he wouldn’t be laying on his arms.
“Lay back for me,” Martin instructed, using one hand to help Jon lower himself onto the bed and pillows. “Still green?”
“Still green,” Jon said with a smirk.
Martin hummed as he unravelled and re-coiled another piece of rope. There was one more left at the foot of the bed. One for each leg, then. Martin arranged it much the same way as he had the first, folding it in the middle and threading the ends through his hand to even them out. He wrapped the folded end around Jon’s ankle twice, then tied it off and tested the knot, much like he’d done with his wrists. Content with his handiwork, he took the loose ends and wrapped them high around Jon’s upper thigh, pushing his ankle up to meet it, so his knee pointed straight up towards the ceiling.
Jon let out an audible gasp as Martin cinched it tight.
“Still green?” Martin checked.
“Mmhmm,” Jon hummed out, slightly more evident distress in his voice now.
With surprisingly deft hands, Martin started wrapping and tying the remaining rope in loops up Jon's leg, ensuring it was completely secure. It was fascinating to watch.
“This is called ‘spiral futomomo’,” Martin said with a sly grin.
“Spiral,” Jon almost laughed.
“Thought you’d appreciate that.”
Martin finished the tie and Jon looked over it. It was remarkably artistic for, well, tying someone up. Testing his movement, he found he was again, completely helpless to do much more than move his knee up and down a bit.
“Green?” Martin raised an eyebrow.
“Green.”
“Right for me to do the other leg, then?” Martin was already preparing the rope.
Jon chewed his lip. “Yeah, I mean, may as well. In for a penny and all that.”
“You’re enjoying this, aren’t you?”
Jon blushed again. “Maybe a little bit. S’nice, you know?”
Martin nodded. “Yeah, I know... It’s nothing to be embarrassed about. This moment right now, this is just for us.”
Any tension Jon had been holding suddenly seemed to dissolve away. He let out a long breath and sunk back into the bed and pillows, wiggling his fingers and toes, just being present in the moment. “You’re right. You’re absolutely right.”
Martin finished off the knots on his other leg and ran his hands over Jon’s knees.
“Good?”
Jon shifted his legs as far as he could, which wasn’t very far. He could sit up if he balanced carefully and really used his core, but that was about the extent of it. He found himself completely helpless.
“Good. Weird, but good.”
Martin smiled smugly, running his hands over the knots, pulling at the ropes in places to tighten them or redistribute the tension across Jon’s body. That sleepy warm sensation came over him again. Jon closed his eyes and focused on all the little sensations it created, without his mind drifting away, the world seemed to melt into oblivion around him, only the feeling of Martin's warmth remaining.
The next thing he knew, the pressure was releasing from his legs and chest and arms, the ropes unravelling and blood flow bringing some pleasant tingles to his limbs. Martin was gently rubbing where the knots had pressed into Jon's skin. Jon realised with no small amount of surprise that he must’ve drifted off.
“Sorry,” he mumbled groggily.
“You looked so peaceful.” Martin smiled warmly at him. “Not the first time it’s happened. Something like being held, I’ve been told, it’s supposed to be reassuring.”
“It is,” Jon agreed, stretching his legs and arms and rubbing feeling back into them as Martin looped the rope neatly around itself for storage. “Comfortable. That was really nice. I'm glad you suggested it. Thank you.”
“Any time. Really. If it helps, I’m happy to, uh, help.”
Jon squinted at him. “Why do I get the impression that was a warm-up, Martin?”
Martin grinned and shrugged. “I mean, there are loads of ways to tie someone up. That was definitely one of the more basic ones… there’s always more intricate restraints, decorative ties, suspension…” The gleam in his eye made it clear this was something Martin was proud of and Jon had to admit he was curious.
“I feel like if we’re going to be cooped up in here for any great period of time, we’re definitely going to get around to trying some of those...”
“...and?”
Jon smiled, warm and genuine. “...and I get the feeling that’s something we’re both looking forward to.”
Martin returned his smile. “You’re not wrong.”