NOVEL NEXT C6 - S, M
Staring at the rather brief message, Yan renewed his resolve. Despite having spent the entire week together, there had been little progress with Sirius, and now this man was his only hope.
***
When Yan hesitantly knocked, the door opened as if the man had been waiting. He was dressed casually in a white shirt and cotton pants. As Yan followed him into the room, he found himself looking at the man’s hair with fresh eyes.
In the bright light, his hair was a beautiful golden blonde. Come to think of it, the face he’d briefly glimpsed earlier was extremely handsome. His glamorous charm was such that Yan wouldn’t have been surprised if he turned out to be a famous celebrity.
‘It’s a shame I didn’t get a proper look at that face last time.’
The club had been dark, with only flashing psychedelic lights, preventing Yan from properly appreciating his face. A week later, Yan still regretted that.
The man flopped onto the sofa and asked:
“So, has there been any progress?”
“…”
Skipping greetings completely, this is what he asks. Yan’s briefly fluttering heart sank instantly. He stuttered in response:
“Progress… yes, a little.”
“Oh, what kind of progress?”
The man asked while pouring and drinking wine. It seemed he had been eating dinner via room service, as a simply set meal was visible on the table.
“Well, we now share most of the day together.”
“And?”
“We eat meals together… Oh, and yesterday we had dinner at a nice place. I learned that he doesn’t eat much.”
As Yan began to slip into worry—’He’s quite active, is that small amount of food really enough?’—the man prodded him:
“And what else?”
“Huh? That’s about it…”
For Yan, this was already a significant achievement. But the man apparently didn’t think so, as he set down his wine glass with a thud.
“Not that kind of thing. Has there been any sexual progress?”
“Ah, th-that…”
Yan mumbled with his face instantly flushing. There had been no sexual progress whatsoever. In fact, during those “shared hours” he mentioned, they’d barely exchanged a few personal words. His relationship with Sirius was strictly professional.
“Have you considered just jumping him?”
“That would be a crime!”
An active police officer couldn’t commit a crime, especially not a sex crime. Of course, even if he had a different job, he wouldn’t consider doing such a thing. From the beginning, Yan wanted to cherish his pure feelings for Sirius.
“Well, how far you’ve gone with this Sirius fellow isn’t really my business. We’re meeting for a different reason.”
That was true, but hearing him say “not my business” so bluntly was somehow irritating. Yan looked at the man with a sullen face.
“Since you’re helping me anyway, couldn’t you at least be supportive?”
“Would my support increase your chances with Sirius even slightly?”
“…Forget it, let’s drop it.”
When Yan openly showed his annoyance, the man smiled deeply. He straightened his posture and held up a sheet of paper.
“Instead of mere support, let me help you in a more practical way.”
“What’s that?”
“Read it.”
Yan approached him as if entranced. Taking the paper, the first thing he noticed was the large heading “CONTRACT.” Yan read the first line:
“‘This is a Dominant-Submissive contract…?'”
“It means you and I will engage in play by mutual agreement.”
“Ah.”
“I’ve written up something fairly standard to start with.”
Yan seemed to recall hearing that when forming a “Diet,” such contracts were used. So this is what it was. Curious, he read the clauses.
“Procion will develop Yan Circuitz’s hidden masochistic talent. Yan Circuitz will follow Procion’s guidance as much as possible.”
Below that were some common-sense provisions like “not disclosing this arrangement or recording it in photos or videos.” On the other hand, there were also highly unconventional statements like “during play, becoming Procion’s devoted slave.”
‘Procion…?’
It seemed to be the man’s name, though it could also be a surname. It wasn’t clear what nationality the word came from. More importantly, Yan was mildly shocked to realize he hadn’t even known the man’s name until now. Moreover, he couldn’t recall telling the man his own name, yet somehow “Yan Circuitz” appeared in the document.
‘Did I tell him while drunk? Probably.’
While Yan was figuring this out on his own, Procion explained:
“We discuss preferences, establish a safe word, both sign… That should be sufficient.”
“So that’s how it’s done.”
Yan continued reading the clauses with fascination. The single page contained more content than he expected. For instance, there were conditions like “Safety takes priority in any play” and “Procion has an obligation to look after Yan Circuitz’s health and safety.”
“Hmm, I don’t see any issues with this so far.”
The clause “This contract may be terminated at the request of either party. Even after termination, the confidentiality clause must be strictly observed, and violation will result in legal and private penalties, which both parties agree to” gave him slight pause, but Yan nodded readily. While he was curious about what “private penalties” might entail, it didn’t matter since he had no intention of violating the confidentiality clause anyway.
“Then let’s move on to play. Is there anything you particularly dislike?”
“Hmm, well…”
How could he know what he liked or disliked without having tried it? To begin with, SM wasn’t even part of Yan’s preferences. After some thought, Yan said:
“I don’t like golden showers.”
The video he had seen while searching online still hadn’t been forgotten. He thought he could tolerate whips and candles to some extent, but that was something he really couldn’t face.
“Okay. Anything else?”
“…I’m not sure.”
“Then conversely, what do you like?”
“That too, I don’t really…”
Yan responded hesitantly. Compared to his companion who had even prepared a contract, he felt apologetic for being so unprepared. Fortunately, the man—Procion—didn’t seem particularly concerned.
“Then we’ll figure out your preferences as we go. Anyway, if you really dislike something, I won’t force you.”
“Oh, umm, okay.”
“Why are you making that face?”
“What’s wrong with my face?”
“It’s the face of someone who had imagined I would force you roughly, and is surprised that’s not the case.”
“…”
“Or perhaps… were you hoping for that?”
“No!”
Yan reacted defensively. Just as Procion suggested, he had been thinking about that, and it was embarrassing to be called out so accurately. Procion giggled knowingly. He was quite a lighthearted man.
“Yan, I don’t know what resources you’ve been studying, but this is legitimately something people enjoy. You could call it a hobby, like rock climbing or skydiving—thrilling hobbies. No matter how beautiful the cliff or how amazing the sky, no one’s stupid enough to throw themselves into it without proper equipment, right?”
“Y-yes, that’s true.”
“It’s the same here. Safety and consent are paramount in play. If you’re genuinely in pain or dislike something, I won’t force you.”
“…I understand.”
“Then let’s move on. What do you want your safe word to be?”
Yan blinked and asked:
“Safe word?”
“What? Do you really know nothing at all?”
“N-no, I just momentarily forgot because you asked so suddenly.”
“No, you were thinking about something else. Let me warn you, if you get distracted during play, you should be prepared for consequences.”
“…”
Indeed, he had been thinking about Sirius. Since falling into this one-sided love, thoughts of him would pop into Yan’s head at all hours.
With no excuse to offer, Yan simply kept his mouth shut.
‘Safe word…’
Literally, it meant a word established for safety. A word to shout when the play becomes unbearably intense, signaling to stop—or so he remembered reading online.
“Um, how about ‘it hurts’?”
“Are you an idiot? You’ll probably say that multiple times anyway.”
“Oh.”
Even he thought he deserved to be called an idiot for that suggestion. Sheepishly, Yan offered a second opinion:
“Then how about ‘unicorn’?”