Page 44 of Asher's Answer
We’re going to be okay, I realize before sleep claims me. We’ve gone through a lot together in such a short amount of time and come out stronger for it. And, even though I’ve thought it before, I can’t help but acknowledge just how lucky I am to have him with me. My Daddy. My partner. The answer to all my unspoken prayers. The man who opened his home to me when I was a broken shell of myself. The man who not only accepted the things I was most ashamed of, but celebrated them with me.
We still have a lot to discuss -numerous issues that we will have to face together, like his career and his obvious feelings of self-recrimination- but I know it’s all going to be okay.
Daddy’s got this, and I’ve got him.
Epilogue – Charlie
It’s been just over a year since I got shot. Life has returned to some semblance of normal and we’re happy and thriving. Ash is still in therapy, but he’s managing his anxiety with so much grace and strength that it blows me away. He even convinced me to see a therapist over my lingering frustration at the sudden end to my career, and I have to admit that it has helped a lot.
Being forced to retire -receiving a disability retirement pension having been injured in the line of duty- threw me for a loop at first. I’d known it was possible, but I’d remained optimistic. Unfortunately, I still have a mild limp from the bullet I took to my thigh, and I didn’t pass the medical to return to my usual duties. The backup plans I originally considered are still floating around in my mind, even if I feel like they’re a pipedream for the time being.
I want to do something for the kink community, particularly the age regression subset. I’d like to potentially work in conjunction with The Grove to create a space that’s a haven for at risk people…like Asher was.
I want to know if it’s possible to create a safe house for people in the kink community to stay if they find themselves suddenly homeless. It happens more frequently than I’d imagined: apparently even Matt experienced this before we met him. Ash found that news particularly distressing, despite Matt being settled and safe now. So, ideally, this would be my main priority.
But, in conjunction with that, I’d like to expand the idea further. To create a safe, welcoming, judgment-free zone where people interested in the BDSM lifestyle can meet, learn, and network with other members of the community without it feeling like a kink nightclub or a public munch are their only options.
Ted is helping me sort through the legalities of the sort of things I want to achieve, but it’s all hypothetical at the moment. Ash has also had some ideas of his own to contribute, and his perspective has me rethinking some of the plans.
But that’s all still in the air. It’s something to keep me busy while my beautiful man continues to find his footing at work and in study, and I’m content to let it happen slowly.
So today finds us hosting another get-together with our friends, and it’s a far cry from the first time. Sadly, Spence and Emma broke up, so we’re down a little, but everyone’s seated around the large outdoor table laughing, drinking and eating, and it feels perfect. Ash is over by the grill, turning burgers and teasing Matt, Ted is regaling Chance, Josh and Max with his plans to renovate the huge house he just bought, and Spence is at my side, debating whether he should get a pet to fill the void Emma left behind.
“Get a cat,” I tell him, and from across the deck Ash turns to me with a grin.
“Kitty?” He bounces on his heels, “Oh, Daddy, please can we get a kitty?”
Spence laughs and nudges me. “Now you’ve done it.”
“We’re not getting a cat,” I argue back playfully. “You’re enough of a handful on your own.”
“Pfft,” he waves the spatula in the air in front of him, “you love me and you know it.”
I do. Everyone here knows just how in love I am with him. In fact, once the burgers are done and we’re all seated and comfortable, I’ve got plans to formalize that. But, for now, while he’s sassing me, I have to sass back.
Tapping my chin, I muse with exaggeration, “Hmm, do I?”
Ash gives me the finger and turns back to the grill, but he’s wiggling his butt so I know the cold-shoulder is for show.
Smirking at his back, I put on my Daddy voice knowing just what it does to him, “Do you want a spanking, Asher?”
The look he throws me over his shoulder is smoldering. “Always, Daddy.”
He really has come out of his shell and embraced our lifestyle. He no longer blushes at the chuckles and whistles from our friends, and when Chance declares that I’m letting my boy get bratty, Ash scowls and brandishes the spatula in Chance’s direction. “For that, you’re not getting dessert, Uncle Chance.”
I know that our dynamic isn’t exactly usual for Daddy/little roles. I don’t care about Ash’s potty mouth or his attitude when he’s big, and he doesn’t rely on me to resolve all his problems or do things for him. He likes to feel independent as an adult, and I enjoy having a lover and boyfriend to hang out with, even if I do like doting on him then, too.
But, at the same time, things change when he slips into his little space, which now tends to happen on a whim. We don’t really plan for it, outside of the few dedicated hours after work where Ash needs the relaxation, and it blends effortlessly into our lives.
This is exactly the balance that I was looking for and thought was a myth. In my experience, not many littles have done well without strict routine, and my exes wanted me to make all their life decisions for them and to be little more often than not. As much as I had liked taking care of them, it had wound up putting too much stress on me, especially when my job had thrown spanners in the works.
I’d almost given up hope that there was a little out there who would be okay with a more fluid situation – with more give and take, and more flexibility. I certainly hadn’t expected to meet him outside of the kink community.
It’s funny how life works sometimes.
When there’s a spread of food on the table, Ash finally drops into my lap and snuggles into me with all sense of his bratty, bigger self gone. Once again I muse on my luck. I still can’t believe that this gorgeous boy is mine. It really does look like I’ve found my unicorn, and the sensation of just how perfect we are together settles over me. It feels good andright. He makes me whole.
That thought spurs another on:
