The Ultimate Man

By Charles Wolfe

Published on Jun 2, 2012

Gay

Waking up Monday felt like a breath of fresh air. It had finally set in that the semester was ending next week and come Wednesday, all of my classes will have officially ended. I was really happy that it was a three day week, even if finals are next week. Other students might have been worrying about their grades, and don't get me wrong I cared about mine as well, but I was not freaking out over them.

My current standing in most of my classes were either high B's or mid level A's. I was happy with how my first semester was looking to turn out.

Heading to class was fun; I was really looking forward to seeing Michael after yesterday. We met up a little before class had started and got breakfast together at the campus dining hall. Not much had to be said that there was a spark between us, the way we looked at each other could give it away.

After class though, we were not able to hang out as much as we had wanted. While we heading over to our next classes, my phone rang. Pulling it up to my ear, I displayed a questioned look to Micheal, unsure of who was calling. "Hello?"

A female's voice ran across the speakers, her commanding voice showing authority. "Good afternoon, may I speak with Christopher Jacobs?"

Bewildered I answered, "Um yes, may I ask who's calling?" Michael looks down at his phone then up at me, not wanting him to be late to class I mouth to him, "I'll talk with you later."

The female, still commanding, asserts her authority as she informs of who she is. "This is Officer Shannon Alvera of the CSU Campus Police. I am calling to inform you that we have identified your attackers. I was wondering if you might be able to come in so that I may speak to you in person."

At first my heart had dropped a mile into the ground, hearing that it was the Campus Police. The initial thought was that Kyle had reported me to the police and that they had wanted to question me. Though after she said it was about my attack, the tone changed to one of a haunting remeberance.

Suddenly I wished Michael had stayed around as everything slows down to a crawl. That damned night will not leave me be. Remembering fragments of the night; the fight earlier with my dad, me getting surrounded, trying to fight back but loosing, it is all a bit much.

Moving to sit down on the stairs, I rub my eyes as the images and video reels play through my memory. The stroll down memory lane is thankfully interrupted as Officer Alvera tries again. "Mr. Jacobs? Are you still there?"

"Yea, yes, sorry I am still here. Yes I can stop by later today. I have class till noon but am free after that." I pull myself back up as I start to move towards my class. The hallways have cleared up some during the few moments of the call, making it an easy trek to the room.

"Thank you. Just check in at the lobby when you arrive. Have a good morning." The click of her line cut me off, not allowing me to ask any questions or wish her well.

Looking down at my phone, I mutter out loud, "You too." Exhaling heavily, I shut off the phone and slide it back into my pocket.

The last two classes drag on by, seconds feeling like minutes. I was not able to effectively focus on the topics, the anticipation wracking me knowing I will finally learn who attacked me.

The campus police station was not as I had originally imagined it, instead much smaller and compact. The waiting room was very simple, two chairs and a side table with fliers on top of it. As to be expected the receptionist, a decent looking guy, was protected by a bullet proof sheet of glass.

Walking up to the glass, I introduce myself and tell the guy that I am here to see Officer Alvera. Even though it is 1 in the afternoon, I was not surprised to see an open box of pasta on her desk when I entered. Sticking out my hand, I introduce myself, "Hi I'm Chris."

Officer Alvera is a fit woman, her black hair tightly braided behind her head. Even though she is Mexican, her skin shows of a deep tan, the lines revealing themselves when she reached out to shake my hand. "Hi Chris.

Sitting in front of the officer, it was made very clear that I was uncomfortable. I just wanted that night to move on, be a thing in the past and yet, in a way I still want to know who hurt me. I would not wish the attack upon anyone so for it to happen to me made it feel a little too convenient...

Officer Alvera did not waste any time beating around the bush, instead moving straight into the reason for calling me in. "As I told you over the phone, your attackers have been apprehended. The hairs that you were able pull from one of the men lead us to a student who actually attends Long Beach State."

That statement caught me by surprise, Long Beach being one of the most accepting places that I had encountered. Who she said it was next though put it all into perspective. "Originally when you were attacked, we focused our search off campus, thinking it was a rouge group that had targeted you but after looking back over the statements we looked at some of the anti-gay clubs on campus, the soccer team rising as one of our suspects."

It was starting to fall into place, my suspicions not too far off from what was coming. "A few of your attackers, also members of the team, had previously been in altercations with other students and after connecting a few of the cases together we were able to find a relation in the DNA." Pulling out four photos, she moves them in front of me, allowing me to look them over. "Do you recognize any of these men?

A few of the faces I recognize, their features flashing at me from the times the team has taunted the Frisbee practices. Not knowing their names, I nod my head in acknowledgment. "I don't know their names but yes, these look like some of the players I have seen on the team." Their mug shot photo's, while just that, still show a slight intimidation to their features, a detectable hatred flashing in their still eyes.

Officer Alvera shifts in her chair a little, preparing to tell me more information. Her eyes show of concern for my well being, the fact that I am gay having no impact on her job to take care of me. "There is a strong possibility that the school newspaper might release a story of their arrest. I will do my best to keep it quiet but as you had experienced, the attack did shake up the community a little. Conversely there might be a little backlash from the soccer team on the release of their players' names and the fact that they are being associated with the attack. They are already under watch but should they make any moves to harm or threaten you, do let us know immediately."

There was not much more she could tell me or do for me so with that, she let me go. Leading me through the maze of cubical walls, Officer Alvera opened the entrance door up for me, allowing for me to get back with my life. "Good luck with your finals and if you ever need help again, don't hesitate to call."

Nodding my head, I was still accepting the fact that it was the soccer players that had attacked me. I had always been brushing them off as just taunts, not actually thinking they were capable, no dangerous, enough to the actual attack. Numb from the news I headed out into the cold, its chill snapping me back to consciousness.

Rubbing my arm, I start to wander back to my room, knowing that I need to change for the upcoming practice.


Given what happened just last Saturday, the practice is charged against me. Bryan and Zach had gone on without me, leaving me to arrive alone. As I walk up, a few of the players, most notably Pike, gave me a concerned look at how and if I am able to play.

I know that it is best to keep my mouth shut this session, avoiding all topics of Kyle and the game. Pike did his usual congrats to the team, making it known that they worked hard for the win. After the introduction, we move into our prep throws, working out any bad throws that might appear for the actual practice.

Pike pulls me aside to throw with, him starting off with the disk. Throwing me a forehand, he asks how I am doing.

Moving into side pivots, I stall, the weight of the day reflecting in my actions. Responding heavily, "Truthfully, I feel like shit. I feel bad for what I did to Kyle." Tossing the disk to Pike, I put a little too much force into the throw, "I also found out who attacked me." My face shows of slight anger, my eyes spiteful of the team.

That perks Pike's interest, and thankfully switching away from any lecture he might have given me about Kyle. "Oh, is it anyone we know?"

Laughing sarcastically, "Yea, more than you think. They were a few members of the soccer team."

Pike grabs the disk out of the air, absorbing the information. "Really? I didn't think they would do something like that. I know they taunt gays but to actually attack, that is a whole new level."

A few of the other guys overhear our conversation, their throws slowing down enough to make it noticeable. Andrew is the first to cut in, asking if there is anything we could.

"Nah, while I would love to exact some revenge on them, the actual guys responsible for the attack have been arrested. Thanks though." My laugh shows a little cynicism of how I would have wanted to react, the methods that I want to take against them scrolling through my brain.

The rest of practice is nice, the team slowly letting me back into their circles. It is a mix of them feeling sorry for me over finding out the identities of my attackers to angry/wary of me over my fight with Kyle. It took a few times to reassure them that I had learned from what I had done and that I knew it was a mistake.

That night it was a hard sleep. I kept waking up in cold sweat, the thoughts of the attack constantly grinding on me. Around 1 in the morning I removed myself from my bed and started to wander around the halls. Moving down to the ground floor, I saw that it was empty.

As I approach the door to head outside, I stop at the glass, pressing my hand against the cold surface. I cringe as I think back to that night; I was so close to getting inside to safety, a mere 10 feet from the door. My fists ball up against the window as I come back from my regression. I was terrified after the attack and the constant fear is hard if impossible to get over. Even a few months after the attack I still avoid dark corners. They had succeeded in leaving me scars that I know will never go away.

If it weren't for Michael the results could have been much worse I owe him that. Granted we had only met earlier that day but apparently he was my figurative Knight in Shining Armor. It wasn't the best way for him to see me but knowing he was there was a great relief.

Turning around I head up the flights, not all the way up to my story but to the floor below, knocking on a door that was becoming all too familiar to me.

Bryson opened the door, a dreary look upon his face. "Hey what are you doing here?" He stood in his pajamas, a solid patchwork of blues and greys outlining his legs. He was shirtless, the toned pecks of his chest showing off their own mini-muscles.

Sheepishly I ask, "Is Michael still awake? I was wondering if I could talk with him for a few minutes."

Bryson opens the door, allowing me to step inside, and then tosses a rugby ball from his desk to the sleeping form lying on the bed. "Hey, you've got a guest."

Michael startles awake, the ball having disrupted his slumber. Rubbing his eyes to get a better view of me, Michael coughs out, "Hey handsome what are you doing here?"

Moving over to him, I collapse on the bed, taking in the smell of his body from the sheets. Grabbing the pillow, I look up at him with tears forming in my eyes, "I couldn't sleep and I know it sounds stupid but I was having nightmares over the attack and I just found out they were the soccer players."

Michael leans down to me, pulling me in close. Kissing me softly on the nose, then the lips he consoles me, "Hey, you're safe here. It's ok."

Bryson moves back to his desk, cracking open his book. Commenting outloud to us he coldly warns, "While this is sweet, please don't get too physical. I have to study for my finals."

Michael turns his head and shoots him a small glare, then turns back to me, wrapping his legs between mine before pulling the sheets over us. His warmth is reassuring, the body heat warming up the coldest parts of my body.

Moving us closer to the wall, Michael presses his chest against me, resting his head upon mine. It doesn't take me long to fall asleep after that, his comfort calming me down.

The sleep that night, while in the grasp of Michael, was still uncomfortable; the images and visions flashing through of every beat and blow of the attack. His grip against me kept me safe, the violence vibrating off his arms with every beat of his heart. Just like him saving me from the attack, his arms, wrapping around me, deflected all the kicks that tried to hit my heart.

Waking up the following morning was unexpected, the scenery around me rattling my senses. Some time in the night, Michael and I had switched positions, him moving either over me or me over him to have us end up in a spooning position, his body conforming to the outline of mine. His chest matched the line of my back, his groin fitting perfectly into my ass, the legs weaving their fibers of body hair into mine.

My stirring gently woke him, the grip increasing as he became more coherent. "Hey, you had quite a rough night. Thought my grip would calm you but apparently not." The soft whisper of his words into my ears was calming, the knowledge of his words echoing the meaning behind them.

Snuggling in closer to him, I show my care by caressing his arm. Speaking softly as to not wake Bryson, I kiss his arm which rests over me, "It did more than you think. Your care was what kept me from falling apart last night." With Michael's arm still over me, I start kissing it gently, taking note of where the kicks would have landed in my dream. While he didn't see the bruising from protecting me, I saw all the wounds he took for me, the blows that I should be taking alone. The kissing on the arm, while not my intention, starts turning him on.

His tented pants confirm it as he moves closer into me. "That's not fair what you're doing. Bryson won't be too happy to wake up to us fucking."

Bryson, apparently awake and stirring around, turns over to look at us, moving out of the bed in the process. "Yes, please save that for another time."

Not wanting to break my lovers grip, I reluctantly pry his fingers off my chest, moving them down to my waist. Slipping out of the sheets, I comment to the both of them, "Bryson does have a point. And to be thankful for letting me spend the night, I do owe it to him to let him study." Kissing Michael on the head, I start to move away.

Michael pulls my head back down, landing his lips upon mine. Taking a few seconds to enjoy the embrace he lets me go and falls back to his bed. "Just know, Chris, I am always here for you."

A grin cuts through my unkempt face, the smile happy to hear that. "Thank you for taking care of me. And thank you too Bryson for letting me stay."

Bryson ahm's to me as I move to the door. He has already started getting ready for the coming day, dropping the pajamas to reveal plaid blue boxers. Scanning over his body quickly, I think to myself of how he would make the perfect gay Adonis. Again if only he were gay. Wishing him good luck, I head out towards my room.


The start of Tuesday was weird, the finals season starting to set into the students and faculty. It was the last day of actual teaching class for my Tuesday/Thursday classes, dead days occurring the last two days of the week.

Normally they were meant for study time but from what I have been hearing from other students, most are going home or up to the mountains to snowboard. I would have joined them had I not left all my gear up in Sacramento. When you think Southern California, you don't normally associate snow with it but on a clear day, at times the white peaks are visible.

The professors did their best to get us to study, warning of how hard the finals might be or how much they might affect our grade. I was not worried too much as I had great standings in both classes. Even if I completely failed my exams, I could still walk out with a high C or a low B.

After my classes, I felt some time was due at the library, figuring I might as well study a little since I have class tomorrow. Other students, as well as some teachers, were calling tomorrow a bust, not even showing up due to the two day break. I don't blame them either; you might as well take advantage of the days, extending it for as long as possible.

The library was packed. Even my secret corner had a few students in it. Thankfully they didn't stay long, my presence probably scaring them off.

Setting my books and backpack down, I open up my laptop and start looking through the internet. I was delaying the inevitable study, procrastination getting the better of me. Tay had sent me some random furry picture, his subtle way of trying to initiate me to the community.

The picture was well done, an erotic scene of a wolf fucking a fox. They were in some room, the bedsheets curling under the fox's grip. Off In the corner was the internal picture, the wolf's cock spewing its juice inside the fox's ass. The colors were amazing, blending perfectly with each other. The cum: not too white against the red anal track. The emotions of the fox: its eyes gleaming up at the wolf wanting more. The wolf, in its natural habitat, had the enjoying grin high upon its cheeks. The artwork was signed at the bottom by the usual artist, HuskRy.

Quickly shutting the page, both as to not attract attention and to not get turned on, I look to my work, deciding it was now best to dig in. Knowing that biology was my weakest subject, I decided to devil into that first, pulling over the book and breaking into it.

I was able to study for a good hour before it was interrupted by a tap on my shoulder. I had my head phones in, the song playing some Adele song. Turning around I was startled to see a guy standing right behind me. What increased my heart rate even more was the soccer patch up on his breast.

The guy was cute, his slick olive hair striking back against his head. The dark orange eyes showed a variety of emotions: nervousness, slight anger and a plea for something. Speaking softly I choke, "Can I help you?" There is a slight undertone of annoyance, most due to the fact that he is a soccer player. What trouble are they/is he looking to start up this time?

The player speaks softly, though like me, with an annoyed tone to his words. It is clear to see he does not want to be here. "I was hoping I could find you here. Is there some place we could talk in private?"

Moving up from my seat, I remain by the desk, unsure of where he wants to go. "Depends, what are we going to talk about? You guys don't have a great track record of being nice." My tone snips out at him, hoping to get my point across.

"Shut up alright?! I came to apologize on behalf of the team." The guy blurts out increasing his tone, gathering the attention of some surrounding students.

Showing that I am in charge of this conversation, I grab his arm, gripping hard into his skin, and pull him into the stacks of DVD's. Hissing at him in the strongest tone possible, "Listen you little cretin! I don't have to do anything you say. And about your apology, I know it was you assholes. I am glad your friends are in jail. I hope they get fucked senseless!"

The guy returns the barrage, trying to counter with me on the anger level. "First off, my name is Skyler. Second off, they weren't my friends. They were seniors in the club. I am only a sophomore."

Cutting him off before he could say anymore, I rip in again. Snorting, "You think I give a shit what year you are? You are part of that group. I didn't hear you speak up in my defense everytime they taunted me! And why are you delivering the inexcusable apology? Why not your captain Miguel?"

Skyler quickly counters, as if it burns his mouth to admit why. "He didn't want to do it. Being a senior he has finals he needs to study for."

Contorting my face, I attempt to control my rage. "That's bullshit and you know it. Being the captain of your team, he should be the one delivering the excuse not you. I'm not accepting it till he gives it to me." Testing out how far his blind faith goes, I test the waters even more, "Unless he's too weak to do it."

Skyler amazes me, his dumb attraction to this guy unfounded, "He's not weak, he just really is busy.

"Sure whatever." I start to head out the stack hoping that was the last of it before it hit me 'Could it be? No...' Skyler had been following me out, looking awfully eager to get out. "Why you? Why not some other pathetic freshman from your team? What makes you so fucking special?"

Skyler stammers there, grabbing at the words which he looks to portray. "I... um. I volunteerd for this. No one else wanted to talk with you, many of them blaming you for having our friends arrested."

"Yea sure." Skyler had not expected to be put on the spot so it was interesting watching him squirm. What he did next though, I was completely unprepared for.

Facing him, I start to turn away. Skyler grabs my arm, making me yelp out. I start to turn around, my fist clenched. Skyler beats me to the punch, landing his lips across mine. My eyes go wide, the burn of his controlled passion pushing into my mouth.

Skyler's eyes go wide, realizing what he has just done.

Next: Chapter 20


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