Page 17 of Total Assist (For Puck’s Sake #13)

DASAN

I step onto the ice as Nason Jordan goes careening into Beethoven Morris. It appears as if he’d planned a straight trajectory, but somehow, he ends up spinning. He slides into Morris as if he’s a tripwire, then they’re both on the ice, sliding toward the boards.

Laughter fills the ice.

“Try again,” Willits says.

“Put effort in this time, Jordan,” Marion says.

I raise a brow as both men get to their feet.

“Okay, once more. I was almost there,” Nason says. “Spread your feet wide, Tove.”

“That’s what he said,” Felton mutters, causing snickers to fill the ice.

Morris slides back to where he’d been and stands with his legs apart.

I join my team where they’ve gathered in a cluster toward the middle of the ice as Nason begins sprinting around the perimeter behind Tove, following the boards right up until Tove is dead ahead.

He digs his skates in to gain more speed then dives so he slides.

He’s doing his best to keep his body straight, arms directly over his head like he’s diving into the water.

We watch with a strange aura of silence until he shoots under and between Tove’s legs and makes it out the other side.

He almost clears Tove, except he celebrates too early.

His foot catches on Tove’s, sending Tove stumbling to the ground.

Felton, mad reflexes that he has, manages to grab onto Tove before he slams on his face or hurts his wrists trying to keep from hitting his face. Tove grins up at him.

“Aw, you almost have it,” Marion says with a scowl. “Too excited. Celebrate early. Do again.”

As a group, everyone turns to look at Coach.

He’s standing in the box with Assistant Coach Reno, our two PTs, and a couple other guys that are here from time to time.

Coach’s arms are crossed over his chest. He’s in a suit like always, but he’s not wearing a tie and his top couple buttons are undone.

The corners of my mouth quirk a little because I’m confident that this is his version of dressing down. What he wore when we were camping is simply slumming it. Honestly, I’m surprised he didn’t wear slacks and a button-down.

His eyes flicker to mine, and I smirk. His cheeks flush a little, and his lips twitch as he fights a smile. Is he thinking about the chastity cage he’s wearing right now too? When he shifts his weight a little, I think maybe he is. My smile widens as I turn back to my team.

“Once more,” Coach says.

His voice is different than it is when he’s my omega. There’s a sharper tone. A more confident edge. There’s no softness, hesitation, or insecurity in it.

While I’m watching Nason take another dive through Tove’s legs, my mind is locked on a ghostly vision of Shively on his knees. Last night as I laid in bed thinking about Shively, I couldn’t help but wonder whether I’m doing this right.

We’re hovering somewhere between full-time and part-time. I know we can’t be entirely full-time because of hockey, and that’s okay. As I told Shively, hockey is entirely separate. It doesn’t count. For all intents and purposes, hockey is another reality.

So if we count everything outside of hockey as full-time, we’re still hovering somewhere in between.

Neither of us is entirely confident in what we’re doing.

I’m more confident than Shively because I think he’s simply taking my cues, instruction, and working off instinct as he finally lets himself give in to his submissive side.

But me? I’m going off instinct, my hunger for this dynamic with him, and books.

We’ve worked on boundaries, rules, expectations, structure, and routine, but so much of it revolves around the bedroom.

I’m not sure we’ve taken the step beyond that except for small things like his check-ins, the cock cages, and… .

And what?

We’re not moving toward something, but I think we should be.

I think we should always be evolving, striving for a higher purpose, bettering ourselves.

Pushing new limits or trying new things?

I don’t know, but since last night, my gut has been twisting as I think that maybe I’m not giving Shively everything he needs and deserves.

I’m not sure he’s even getting everything he wants since he doesn’t truly know what he wants. I’ve done research on the D/s lifestyle, but as far as I can tell, Shively has not.

“Ukiah!”

I jerk my attention to Coach.

“What just happened? Head in the game,” he yells.

A glance around shows that my entire team is moving. “Sorry, Coach,” I holler back, joining my team as they split into four groups. Naturally, I join Willits. Felton is in goal since he’s always in a net with Marion on the opposite.

“Where you been?” Willits asks.

I shake my head as I watch my team, trying to figure out what we’re doing so I don’t have to ask. “Lost in thought. I don’t think I’m entirely present today.”

“You need to be or you’re going to be benched,” Willits says.

“As I should be if I screw up,” I agree. I don’t want special treatment, and I hope that Coach will never give me any. Regardless of our relationship, I only ever want my place on this team, or any team, to be based on my skill.

Willits nudges my arm, and I meet his eyes. He’s shaking his head. “Honestly, pay attention. We’re keep away.”

I nod and shove thoughts of Shively aside. It’s frustrating that it’s not simply me obsessing over him. It’s a strange worry in my chest that says I’m not giving him everything he needs. Yes, he doesn’t know what he needs, but as his dom, I should still be able to provide it.

I’m failing.

No.

Taking a breath, I force myself to stop thinking about anything other than hockey.

This is my job, and I’m going to be replaced if my skill slips.

I love my job, and I want to keep my job.

Athletes are never truly “fired” like in most other jobs.

Our contracts just aren’t renewed. New contracts with a different team aren’t offered.

In a way, we’re forced into retirement when teams stop wanting us.

I don’t want to be that person. I fought hard for a long fucking time to get where I am, and I’m not fucking this up. If this is my alternate reality where I’m just a hockey player and not trying to be a good dom, then I need to fully step out of that world.

Just like a story. Out of one world and into another.

Coach still yells at me three more times during practice because I can’t stop thinking about the idea that I’m not doing this right.

Which means I’m not doing two things right since I’m sucking at hockey today too.

The moments I am focused, I do well, but by the time I’m in the locker room, I’m feeling frustrated with myself.

I ignore the others’ chatter as I strip down and try not to stomp to the showers.

During practices, I usually keep my hair in a long braid outside of my helmet, which is why I have a practice helmet and a game helmet.

When my hair is braided around my head like a halo, my helmet fits differently.

I don’t bother during practice because I know my teammates aren’t going to pull my hair, accidentally or otherwise.

Standing under the hot water, I wait for the spray to soak to my scalp before letting my hair free from its pleats. Taking a deep breath, I bow my head and let the hot water rain over me.

I’m being stupid. This shouldn’t consume my thoughts.

“Dasan?”

My eyes blink open at Felton’s voice. It’s quiet and unsure. “Yeah, Fel?”

He’s standing right outside my stall, so I can see his shadow shift. “Are you okay?”

Smiling, I take a step forward and open the curtain a little so I can meet his eyes and let him see that I’m telling him the truth when I answer. My heart clenches slightly when I notice the concern on his face. “I promise I’m fine. I’m just distracted today.”

Felton wants to ask what I’m distracted by—I can see it in his eyes—but I think he holds back because of where we’re at. I’m confident this is the reason when his eyes flick to one of our teammates as they walk by.

“I’m good,” I assure him again. “It’s nothing to worry about. I’m just thinking too much.”

His eyebrows knit together, so I know I’m not doing a good job convincing him. “I’m not thinking about bad things, Fel. I’m thinking about good things, but I’m letting those things interfere with my concentration here. That’s all. I just need to focus better.”

I succeeded a little more this time. His forehead smooths out as he nods. “Okay.”

“Thanks for checking, though.” I squeeze his wrist and am rewarded with a smile.

“Sure. Sorry I asked when you’re in the shower.”

I snort. “How about you shower next to me and we can talk through the wall?”

That earns me a wide grin, and I can see the playfulness that Felton usually exudes twinkling in his eyes. “You’re on.”

He snaps my curtain closed, then I hear his feet on the tile. The shower stall next to me turns on. “Can you hear me?” Felton calls.

Grinning, I step back under the stream of water. “Loud and clear.”

“Cool. I suppose now isn’t a good time to talk gossip since I have to yell, huh?”

I chuckle. “No, probably not.”

“Talk gossip,” Marion interjects. “No one listens.”

Felton laughs. I smile at his laughter. For a while there—months—that laughter was missing entirely. I’m so damn relieved that it’s back though. It’s different now. Maybe more genuine. More authentically Felton.

There’s a lightness to Felton that’s only because of Ren. He’s no longer carrying so much ugly weight on his shoulders and is free to be who he is.

I always say I’m not a sentimental or sensitive person, but deep down, I think I am a little.

My chest feels warm and full when I hear Felton’s laughter, knowing that he’s moving into a good place now.

He has someone to take care of him and look out for him.

Someone who always has his best interest and his heart in mind.

We talk nonsense throughout our shower. The nonsense carries on into the locker room, which entertains those still lingering. I feel in a much better mood when we walk out. Glancing in Coach’s office, I find the lights off. It’s empty. Once I’m in my car, I send him a text.

Me

Are you home?

Omega

Yes, Alpha.

Me

Do you mind some company?

Omega

You can come over any time.

Me

I’m on my way.

I stick my phone on the car charger and head to Shively’s house. Most of the time, I have a plan for when I get there, like what we’re going to do and whether we’re going to try something new.

But my brain is still swimming. It feels murky with no true thoughts present, like a watercolor painting.

The garage is open when I pull into Shively’s driveway. He’s been having me park my vehicle in it to avoid any chance that someone may drive by and see my car sitting in his driveway. While I think most people would just assume we’re friends hanging out, there’s no need to chance it.

I hit the button to close the doors on my way inside. The house is silent, as it always is. I toe off my shoes and head for the living room, finding Shively on his knees, right where I thought I’d find him.

“Hello, beautiful omega,” I greet, running my fingers through his hair.

Fuck, he looks so damn good on his knees. The way he looks up at me is hot as fuck. There’s no better vision than this.

“Hi, Alpha,” he says, voice once again soft and sweet. There’s no hint of Coach Shively in his tone now. It’s just my omega, Shiv.

For a minute, I continue to run my fingers over his face, along his jaw, his lips, over his eyelids. “Get up, omega.”

Shively immediately gets to his feet. With my hand around his neck, I bring him to me and kiss him for several long seconds. I love the way he tastes. I love how he’s completely pliable under my touch.

“On the couch. On your back.”

He backs away and lies down how I asked him to. I crawl on top of him. Shively is naked, as he always is when he knows I’ll be here. I love the feel of his body under me, entirely exposed. Vulnerable.

I lay my head over his heart and close my eyes. My breaths slow as I breathe him in. It takes several minutes of me lying like this before his fingers come up to slowly move through my hair.

“Are you okay, Alpha?” Shively asks.

“Yeah. I’m good.”

“You were distracted today.”

“We’ll talk about it, but right now, I only want to take comfort in you. Okay?”

“Yes, Alpha.”

I smile, turning my face so I can kiss his skin. “Thank you.”

“Do you need anything?”

I meet his eyes, finding uncertainty there. “I need you to trust me. Don’t think for a second that I’m upset with you or unhappy with you in any way. Can you do that?”

He chews the inside of his lip, and there’s a beat before he nods.

“You’re lying to me. Aren’t you?”

Shively’s eyes widen. “No!” This man does not want to be punished. “I just…”

I slide up his body so I can press my lips to his. “Do you know why you should trust me right now?”

“Because you’re my alpha,” he answers immediately.

A grin spreads across my face. “Yes. True. But I don’t expect your trust if I haven’t earned it.

However, I’ve shown you today that what I said was true.

When I have a hard day or something is weighing on my mind, I don’t want to be in my house, stewing on it alone.

I’d rather be here with you, wrapped up in you, taking comfort from you.

If I were upset with you, would I want those things? ”

The shaking of his head is slow. “You just said you were going to be stewing on something and that you had a hard day,” he points out. “Which is the opposite of what you implied earlier, Alpha.”

“You’re correct. I’m sorry. But I promise, what’s keeping me distracted isn’t a negative on you, Shiv. It is something I need to work out on my own before we talk about it.”

“You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to.”

“I know. Which is why I’m not telling you right now. But, Shiv, I do want to talk to you about everything. In time. Okay?”

He nods.

“Take a breath.” Shively inhales deeply and lets it out slowly. “Now I want to lie on you and soak up your warmth for a while.”

Shively smiles. “Okay, Alpha.

“That’s my good omega,” I murmur, brushing a kiss against his lips before I scoot back down and retake my position on his chest. I’m happy to find his heart steady and at a normal pace.