Date: Sat, 2 Jun 2012 07:28:10 +0100
From: Charles Wolfe <c.sportswolfe@gmail.com>
Subject: Chapter 19- The Ultimate Man- Revision

	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.