Page 9 of Total Assist (For Puck’s Sake #13)

DASAN

Shively is not confident with his hands on me. That’s very clear. It’s been four days since our conversation, and we’ve talked a lot since. For instance, he has to check in with me four times throughout the day to tell me how he’s feeling until told otherwise.

This is because I know how nervous he is with hockey starting—he can’t have distractions when he’s coaching—and I need to make sure his mental health remains good. Not only for our relationship but for his wellbeing.

We also went over some honorifics, but I have to say, I’m not a fan of any of them.

I don’t like sir or master or daddy or any of the other common ones.

I also don’t like slave, baby, boy, or whatever for Shively.

It’s a work in progress. For now, we’re sticking with our names, though I’m quickly realizing I’m not happy with those either.

I’ve been reading more about our situation, and there are things I haven’t thought of before such as other acts of service outside the bedroom. That falls into the part-time versus full-time D/s relationship, and that’s a bigger discussion entirely.

I dish myself some three sisters soup and grab a wedge of cornbread then head for my desk. This is my game-day ritual that I’ve practiced for every single home game for as long as I can remember.

It’s time to relax with some dirty fanfiction while I eat and calm my mind.

Recently, I’ve been obsessed with Howl and Sophie fanfiction because there needs to be some heat in that damn book!

And you know Sophie is probably a kinky mofo, so she’d enjoy taking Howl in his wizard beasty form.

Let’s be real here, we’d all take Howl in whatever state he comes in.

However, as I stare at my screen and absently chew my bite of soup, I’m not feeling Howl and Sophie goodness today.

I once read a fanfic of Howl, Sophie, and Calcifer, and I’m kind of down for that threesome.

However, no matter how hard I try, I can’t write my own threesomes including Calcifer.

My heart isn’t polyamorous at its core, so while I enjoy reading it, I can’t seem to write it.

I close out of that story and scroll the rest of my unfinished stories online.

I have a decent following, and they enjoy when hockey season begins again because it means they get more chapters.

I haven’t yet seen someone put the two together, though—hockey season and my writing output.

I keep waiting for someone to point out the coincidence.

I have a few ancient cultural stories going too.

I use evidence from history of cases where they were “just really good friends and roommates but sadly never married” and expand on that.

I have one going for Alexander the Great and his “close friend,” Hephaestion.

It’s hilarious that there are so many na?ve and stupid people who think that homosexuality is a new thing. Like, dude, open your eyes.

There’s also my reimaginings of the ancient gods—Isis and Osiris.

Yes, taboo for the win. Again, get over it, close-minded prudes.

Go live your perfect life and keep your judgment to yourselves.

Yes, those are my responses when I get some holier- than-thou comments on my taboo stories.

. As if I’m making up taboo gods for funsies.

I also have an Apollo serial about sexy exploits with his various lovers from mythology. I give the paragraphs that mention his sexcapades far more detail. It’s more fun that way. I also like that he swung all ways. Apollo wasn’t afraid of fucking any gender. He simply enjoyed people.

As it should be.

While I sip on my soup, I realize that my writing preference is kind of all over the place, but that makes me smile.

Up until recently, I thought my bisexuality was maybe simply in passing, something that was mine that I would never truly act on.

Acknowledging men are hot isn’t difficult.

They are hot. And let’s not even get started on dicks.

They’re by far the hottest part of the human body!

Besides some past experimentation, I never saw myself in a relationship with a male, but my writing preferences are all over the place. It isn’t just male and female. There are also male and male, female and female—I love writing me some Katara and Mei fics—and every other pairing too.

I enjoy fanfiction because I don’t need to create a world or characters. They’re already created for me, and I enjoy having those rules and boundaries in place. All I have to do is give them my own storyline. You just know some of our favorite PG characters are freaky as fuck.

But what do I want to write today?

Finishing my soup, I use my cornbread to soak up all the broth remnants. I love my cornbread. There are actual chunks of corn in it. It’s not just a dry mix from a box. There’s also a touch of honey because I like it sweeter rather than grittier.

Perhaps I need a new story to write. Maybe that’s why I’m feeling a block right now, but having more than half a dozen stories in various states of completion means my readers might not be happy if I begin something new.

However, I kind of want to explore something more personal. Something like Shiv and me. But what characters embody that dynamic in my head?

Leaning back, I close my eyes and go through some of my favorite books and movies.

Oh, I could totally see the angry British wolf shifter Ben being dominated.

He’s totally a bratty sub, through and through.

He would love to be dominated, though. Forcefully so.

I just can’t think of someone else from the series right now to do it.

Let’s go science fiction. Ender is totally a dom. A quiet, unsuspecting dom. One you wouldn’t look at right away and think, he’s dominant . But again, I’m stuck with thinking of someone he’d dominate. Not his wife, Nova.

Interestingly, I never saw any true chemistry between them. Then again, from that series and others he’s written, I can tell that author isn’t a romance writer at all. There’s zero tension or chemistry between his characters. Like, ever.

Why is it so difficult to write a really good plot and have a really good romance with it? I find it ridiculously strange because so many fantasy writers are all about the sexualization of women in their art and shit, yet if there’s a romantic plotline at all, it’s shit.

Anyway, those aren’t going to work for me, though reimagining his characters with different partners and giving them some actual chemistry would be fun.

Especially in the Earth series. I forget which one it is.

He took his only gay character and forced them into a straight relationship, which totally turned me off the series entirely.

I haven’t finished it. That’s just gross.

Sighing, I sit back in my chair and glance at the clock.

There are still a couple hours until I need to leave for hockey, but writing isn’t happening today.

I suppose I need to think about this a little more.

Maybe get me a true epic fantasy world and a science fiction world to inject some steam into.

That way, I always have something to get me interested in writing.

I take my empty bowl and plate to the kitchen then go about putting away my three sisters soup and wrapping up the remnants of my cornbread. Then I wander through my house while thinking about relationships that felt off in books.

Maybe I’ll spend the remainder of my afternoon scrolling through the books on my read list to see what sparks an interest. Tablet in hand, I drop onto the couch on my three-season porch.

Might as well get some more use out of it before it gets too cold to enjoy it.

Already, there’s a brisk wind, so I grab the white, black, gray, and red wool blanket with a wolf spirit on it that's draped over the back of the chair. My grandmother hand wove it more than a decade ago, and while I try not to use it because I’m worried about wear and tear, I love to wrap up in it and keep her close.

I really ought to take notes on the books I read. I can’t remember who’s in them at this point, which I suppose might speak for itself, right?

I’m distracted when my phone rings, Coach Shively’s name flashing on my screen. I smile and answer.

“Hello, Coach.”

He sighs, so I know I’m not talking to my coach right now. “Hi,” he answers, and I’m happy that it sounds like he’s smiling at least.

“You okay?”

“I am. I took a bath like you said, and it helped.”

“Good to hear. When do you head to the arena?”

“Not for another hour.”

“What’re you going to do until then?”

Shively doesn’t answer for a minute. “I’m nervous, so I’m pacing.”

I know we’ve already come a long way since he answered with the truth instead of telling me he’s fine. Or nothing. “What makes you nervous, Shiv?”

He sighs. “I have this overwhelming feeling that someone is going to come up to me and tell me they know what we’re doing.”

“Do you think you feel that way because you want this to end and you need a reason to do so, or do you think you feel that way because you’re afraid you’re going to have to choose between this relationship and hockey?”

“No,” he answers quickly, and I can hear the sincerity in his voice. “I don’t want this to end at all, Dasan, and… yes, I think it’s definitely closer to the other option. Now that I hear the words out loud, that’s definitely it.”

“You fear having to choose.”

“Yes. Being forced to make a choice.”

“I won’t make you choose,” I promise him.

“No, but if someone finds out, I think I’m going to have to choose. How do I make that choice?”

This isn’t exactly a question I can answer with any confidence. I can’t even give him a direction to lean because when it comes down to it, that decision would need to be his own without anyone else’s influence.

“No one knows about this, Shively. Our secret is safe. You don’t have to make that choice. All you need to do today is be Coach Shively and guide us to a win tonight. I know you can do that, and do you know how I know that?”

“How?”

“Because I know once you leave your house in an hour, you’re no longer my sweet, soft baby sub. You’re a respected coach with a team that looks to you for guidance and support. You’re a coach that other coaches admire and look up to. You’re a coach that aspiring coaches hold as a role model.”

Shively laughs quietly, the sound telling me he’s hovering somewhere between my sub and my coach.

“All of that is true. I’ve heard all those words from either verbal interviews or having read them online in digital interviews.

You’re good at your job, and your team needs you to be completely present tonight.

So when you walk out of your front door, not even the concern that someone might know about us is going to bother you.

Concerns like that don’t touch Coach Shively. ”

He sighs. “Thank you.” There it is, the tone that doesn’t belong to my sub at all.

“You’re welcome, Coach.”

“I appreciate that you always know what to say.”

“I know what you need, especially when you tell me. Thank you for telling me. I’m pleased with your honesty.”

He laughs under his breath. “Yep, I still really like to hear that.”

“We’re going to be fine. You know that, right? Both in this and in hockey.”

“I’m sorry. I don’t mean to worry so much.”

“Don’t apologize. You’re allowed to worry. We will continue to talk through your concerns as often as they come up.”

“As strange as it might sound, I think I have more concerns now than I ever have, but I also feel more confident because you’re… in my life.”

“I’m going to take that as a win. Your confidence is sexy, Coach. So. Damn. Sexy.” His quiet laughter is breathless. I grin. “I want you to drink some water. Eat something high in protein. And then head to the arena early. You don’t need to get lost in your head again. Can you do that for me?”

“Yes, sir.”

I scrunch my face. Yep, that’s not going to work. We’ve been trying different honorifics over the last four days, and we keep coming back to sir, but honestly, I’m not a fan.

“Now be a good pet and do as I say.”

I love the sound of his laughter as he hangs up.

Nope, crossing pet off my list too. I have some dirtier names that I’m going to try on, though I don’t anticipate they’re going to be any good for more than playing.

It’s kind of strange that I never gave this much thought before, yet it feels important.

I turn my attention back to my list of read books and absently swipe through the covers, waiting for one to jump out at me. Hmm. Maybe I need to take a look at superheros. I do love me some tight lycra. And you know that there’s always a ton of sexual tension going on there.

Is there anything better than falling for your nemesis? There’s already built-in tension without even trying.

Or falling for someone completely unexpected.

Like your mentor. Or your coach.

Hmm. Maybe that’s what I need to do. Time to dive back down the rabbit hole of comic books and see what inspires me to write. There’s loads of alpha males looking to be dominated within the colorful pages of comics. All I need to do is choose.