“We must do this again some time…”
You weren’t expecting that to be the first thing they said when the scene ended and you brought them back out of subspace. It’s a heartening thing to hear them say - you thought you weren’t really on your A game, and it was difficult to really tell how they’re doing when they were just a disembodied voice on a screen. You understand their trepidation. You hadn’t been talking for very long, and this dynamic slipped in quickly - a hair’s breadth from being ‘too quick’ in your estimation, but they seemed to be perfectly fine with it. 
You thank them for the compliment, unable to hide the smile in your voice. Their giggle filled your headphones, and your heart fluttered a little. You knew your brain chemistry well enough to keep the thoughts bubbling up at bay, 
You continued to talk for a while after; maybe they felt like it’d be rude to dip out so soon after having, ahem, finished.
You certainly did. 
Your conversation meandered for a time, like a cosy wander through a park. Eventually, though, you caught them yawning. It was past midnight for them, and it was only early evening for you. It was as good a time as any to say goodnight.
“We must do this again some time,” they said again, as if to affirm it.

-

The marathon of car crash tv had reached its end. Your lungs were aching from all the deep-belly laughing and the visceral cringing. You were a bottle of wine deep, and they were through their fourth Fireball and Coke. If you had been in the same room, you would absolutely have been snuggling each other right then. You could imagine it and wondered if they could imagine it too. You wondered what their body might feel like against yours, what scents they might have, what it’d feel to have the rise and fall of their breath at your ear.
“We must do this again some time,” they said, and you agreed.

-

They were looking directly into their webcam, as if they could actually make eye contact. They were beaming. The collar looked beautiful on them. As did the one on you. You hadn’t even mentioned your favourite colour, but somehow they’d managed to get a collar in that exact shade. And you’d done the same for them.
There wasn’t much else to do aside from put on the leashes, letting the metal clasp kiss the metal ring with a soft tinkle.
They told you to tug on the leash in that commanding tone, and you did as they said. Down you went into a familiar space. Slow wits, quick instincts, low brain activity, high energy. Eager to obey. 
And obey you did.

When you emerged from puppy space, like coming out of a warm bath into a cold room, they smiled at you. They asked you if you had a good time, and you could barely croak out a yes and hold back a little bark.
“We must do this again some time.”

-

The scent of their body was not what you expected, but very pleasant. They must have had a very good care routine. You were self conscious about your scent, after being on a bus, then a plane, then another bus. But they didn't pass any comment. They took you back to their place. You called your partner once you were settled, so you could have an audience when you put them under again. Their long-distance words of encouragement made it easier to put them into a stupor - you had to get the first salvo off.
It was only the start of the whirlwind of exploration, conversation, and intimate contact. Like every single thing you’d experienced throughout the couple of years of friendship was happening in one concentrated explosion.
You knew you’d think about this short stay for the rest of your life.

At the end of the four days, they accompanied you to the airport, and hugged you at the bag check. You did your best to internalise and record the feeling of their arms around you, their scent, and their voice in your ear.
“We must do this again some time.”

-

They told you you haven’t done anything wrong. 
But you wondered if it was the case. You couldn’t imagine any other reason why your last voice call was 8 months ago. Or how the last few messages you sent were answered with mono-word responses like ‘lol’ or ‘mood’ or ‘yee’. Or how you saw them interacting very passionately on social media with someone who you really didn’t get the hype for.
Their interactions reminded you of the way you two used to flirt and play in public, and in private. Neither of which had happened in a long time, either.

Had you missed something? Neglected something with them? Their assurances ring hollow - but maybe that’s just because the space you kept for them in your head has hollowed out itself.
You wanted to find some way to stop the continental drift, but it almost seemed like it had escaped your notice until you’d gotten this far away - too far to fix at that point.

You always were allergic to small talk but it now felt like the only way to wring any sort of interaction out of them.
Once, you did manage to get them at a good moment, where they had some good news to talk about, and it dovetailed into a little conversation, but you could feel it petering off in real time.
You tried to defibrillate it by reminding them of the time you visited, years ago now. You told them how it was one of the best trips you ever had (true) and how you thought about it a lot (sort of true), and that you were already sort of making a plan for things to do when they came(not true at all).

You didn’t know if they believed you or not. Hard to tell someone’s true tone over a text chat.

They asked you how your partner was, and you told them had it ended about a year ago now - omitting the tears and the anger and the burnt bridges. They said they were sorry to hear that, and you did believe them, though you were unsurprised that they didn’t know.
You invited them to a watch party you had planned for your upcoming birthday. They apologised and said they weren’t free. Then they said they had to go to work, but it was lovely to hear from you, and…
“We must do this again some time!”
You reacted with a thumbs-up emoji and left the relationship at that.