The Downlow Alpha (The Identity Crises Book 1) (13 page)

            
 
I saw Michaels eyes harden as I turned and ran down the hallway, bursting into the bathroom. I didn’t care if anyone was in there or not. I had to get away from the laughing. Away from the hurtful energy being directed at me. I was relieved no one was in here as I shut the door, and felt the tears crash down my cheeks.

              This had all been a mistake.  Had been so stupid for thinking people changed when they were grown up. The truth was people were jerks no matter what their age was, I realized. I collapsed on the floor, my body heaving in sobs as I pictured my life was over, that I would never be free to be myself without others wanting to ridicule me for it.

              I felt a sense of loss that was unbearable. I had been on the verge of a life filled with promise. And it had been yanked away with no warning. Yanked away in a cruel flash by those who despise seeing anyone happy from something they don’t understand.

              I slowly became aware of yelling and loud crashing noises outside of the bathroom, and recognized Michael's voice as he was yelling.

              "Fuck you," he yelled. "This is nothing compared to what you are going to get if I ever see you again."

              I rushed out of the bathroom, unconcerned for how I looked with tear streaks on my face. I was filled with concern for Michael, and felt a tinge of guilt for having left him out there by himself. I was overcome with shock, unprepared for what I saw. The two men who had made fun of us were on the ground, one of them unconscious. Michael had a third man pushed up against the wall, and was smacking him repeatedly across his face, as the man pleaded for him to stop.

              I felt a vigor fill me as I rushed over to him, grabbing his arm to stop him from doling any more punishment on the man who had clearly had enough. Michael turned to me quickly, the look in his eyes wild with anger until he processed it was me. I felt relief as his eyes softened and he let the man go. I was distantly aware of the man sliding down the wall crying as Michael turned to focus on me.

              "Are you okay," he asked, his eyes filled with concern as he wiped the last remnants of my tears from my face. I nodded I was, as I was overwhelmed at what he had done. The way he had beaten up three men, in defense of my honor. As quickly as that, I was back on cloud nine. People quickly gathered around us.

              "Good for you Michael. They had it coming. I can't believe how intolerant people still are." The comments were all supportive, as others began forcing the three out, making them leave the party. After a few more moments, as the excitement died down, people started filtering their way back to the party, finally leaving me alone with Michael.

              "Oh my God," I said. "I can't believe you beat up three men at the same time."

              He smiled, my admiration of his actions filling him with pride.

              "I am so sorry that happened, Byron. It is my fault. I should have taken you somewhere else. I thought we were safe here among my friends. It is okay now though. Can we go somewhere and talk?"

              "Yes, I would like that," I said quickly, eager to be alone with this dynamic man. My every thought was consumed with him. He grabbed my hand, and led me off to one of the bedrooms, locking the door behind us.

              "No one can barge in and interrupt us," he said, his smile melting my heart.

              I stood still as he walked over to where I was standing by the bed, excitement filling me as he took my clothes off. The way he was undressing me made me feel special. I could feel the desire in his trembling fingers, see it in the rapturous look in his eyes. Once he had me undressed, he turned me to face the bed, and gently pushed me over, my ass sticking up in the air.

              I felt a mix of anticipation and fear as I pictured him sticking his thickness in my backside. Fear that it would hurt, and an eagerness to please him, to be everything he wanted in a man. A gasp escaped me as pleasure exploded through me as his tongue began lightly flicking across the back of my balls. His tongue felt divine as he lavished me with his love, taking his time as his hands rubbed along my inner thighs and ass cheeks.

              He took his time, and I could feel my excitement bubbling on the tip of my hardness, a slow leakage oozing its way down my shaft. His tongue was circling wider in its ministrations now, circling to include the area between my balls and ass. My prostate was humming loud now, and I realized I was slightly rocking my hips, trying to force his tongue to make contact with my ass, with my rim. I was overwhelmed in ecstasy, in my desire for him to know and love every inch of me.

              He didn’t need much encouragement, and my body jolted as I felt his tongue make contact with my rim, the smooth feel of his cheeks pressing into my ass cheeks feeling deliciously pleasing. His tongue felt divine as he ministered his love on my backside, becoming more forceful with each flick, I felt myself opening to his wet tongue, pushing back against it to force it deeper inside my cavity as the vibrations emanating from my prostate grew stronger in my desire.

              I was filled with but one thought now, one desire. To feel him deeply inside of me, to join as one with him as our throbbing needs came together. He sensed my passion was bubbling up to uncontainable levels, and I felt him stand behind me. I heard his zipper and the rustle of his pants falling to his ankles. A second later, I felt the tip of his hardness as it slid in the slippery contour of my cheeks, seeking entrance to my dark tunnel.

              He gently pushed against the opening, and a combination of his tongue stretching my opening, coupled with the slickness of his mouths ministrations for lubrication allowed him to enter me easier than I had envisioned he would. I felt his thickness stretch me open as he pushed himself slowly into me deeper.

              I was throbbing hard now in my prostate when a gasp flung out of me, the tip of his desire pushing against it, intensifying its throbbing pleasure to immeasurable depths. Despite the weird sensation of him inside of me, I was addicted to that throbbing and found myself pushing back against him, delighting in the feel of his hardness pushing against my throbbing center.

              He began sliding in and out of me, slowly at first, and I realized I was whimpering in pleasure as I pushed myself against him harder and harder, amplifying the feel of him sliding inside of me. His fingers began gripping my hips as we picked up the tempo, and I was totally lost in the feel of engulfing his throbbing hardness inside. His thrusts were gaining power and speed as his needs were now matching mine, and our voices were a cacophony of groans and whimpers as we reached the pinnacle of sensation.

              I felt his cock expand against my inner walls as he yelled out, and his warm seed shot deep inside of me, over and over again. I found myself clenching his hardness in my ass as I began cumming myself, the knowledge of his climax sending me over the edge, into the oblivion of ecstasy. I collapsed onto the bed, and felt him ride me to the bed, his weight reassuring somehow as he regained his breath on top of me.

              His manhood was still inside of me, and I felt it growing softer as it began shrinking inside of me. I felt so alive as he caught his breath, and a part of me was disappointed when he finally stood, pulling the rest of his manhood out of me. I quickly stood as well, and turned, kissing him deeply. I was in love, and wanted him t know it. I wanted the whole world to know it.

              As I got dressed, he pulled his pants up and sat on the bed.

              "Would you mind if I walked home," I asked. I wanted to enjoy my reflections on this perfect night. I hoped he wouldn’t think I was being selfish. His smile indicated he did not.

              "Not at all," he said. "Is it okay if I call you tomorrow," he asked, and the shyness in how he asked amazed me.

              "I would love that," I said, already looking forward to tomorrow. I gave him another quick kiss, and left the party to walk home.

              I was about halfway home from the party, lost in thoughts of Michael. I pictured us living together, and planning our wedding. I was on cloud nine when I became aware of the car slowing down next to me, driving slow to keep pace with me.

              "Hey look, it’s the faggot from the party," I heard the voice say, recognizing it instantly as one of the assholes who had ridiculed me and Michael. Fear shot through me, and without looking at them, I picked up my pace. I heard their car doors opening, and took off running.

              I made it about forty feet, the sound of their footsteps closing filling me with panic. I felt a sharp blow in the back of my head, and fell to the hard concrete beneath me, pain pulsing from my head and now my skinned up hands.

              "Where are you running off to Fag? Don’t you want to party anymore," one of them said as feet started kicking me. I pulled myself into a fetal position, my arms trying to protect my head as they rained kick upon kick on me, my body becoming little more than a throbbing ball of pain. I felt one of the kick land on the side of my head where I wasn’t covered up, and darkness descended on me. The last thing I remember was one of them saying to grab my wallet.

            
 
Resentment filled me, as the hands were moving me, and I became dimly aware of the voice that was bringing me back to the sensation of pain.

              "Are you okay kid," the man's voice said, as he continued shaking me. My whole body was a mess of screaming nerves, pain seeming to emanate from even the remotest regions. I desperately wanted him to leave me alone, to go away.

              "I am okay," I declared weakly, letting him help me to sit up. The look on his face declared he knew I was lying.

              "Do you want me to call the police, or an ambulance," he asked. That was the last thing I wanted, I thought quickly. Tomorrow mornings headlines flashed before my eyes.

             
Kid assaulted as part of a gay bashing incident.

              No thank you, I thought to myself. I insisted I was okay, and let him help me to my feet. I thanked him, and began walking as best I could down the road. I instinctively felt my back pocket, remembering the one talking about getting my wallet. Sure enough, it was gone. I kept waiting to hear the man car door, and began worrying he wasn’t going to let this go, when finally I heard it and relaxed.

              After what seemed like an agonizing eternity, I finally made it home. I felt relieved when I saw the lights were off. I didn’t want mom to see me like this before I could clean up and appraise the damage. I had gotten beat up plenty at school, but never anything like this. I was worried they may have broken some ribs. I knew I was still in shock at the viciousness of the beating they had administered on me.

              I ran a hot bath, and slowly got out of my clothes, every movement making my nerves scream in protest. My eyes filled with tears as I saw all of the purple splotches of bruised up and down my sides. I also had a black eye. They must have hit me some more once I was unconscious, I realized. I almost fell as I got in the water, my ribs protesting as my arm held the side of the tub to lower myself in.

              After I had soaked for some time, having to refill the tub with hot water as it cooled, I felt ready to talk to someone about what had happened to me. Needed to talk to someone about it. I couldn’t talk to mom. She just wouldn’t understand, would insist we call the police. I grabbed my pants and dug my cell phone out, as pain filled me at the simplest of movements. I felt disappointment as I saw the time, knowing Michelle would be in bed. That left Michael.

              I hoped he would still be up. I knew he had stayed at the party, and hoped maybe he was still there, still up. I sent him a text stating the guys from the party had jumped me on my way home. Within a minute he was texting me back, horrified at my circumstances. He asked if it was to late for him to come over, and I felt relieved as I told him I had hoped he would. I told him I would be waiting outside for him.

              I dried off as quickly as my body would allow, and put the same clothes back on, not wanting to wake mom by going to my room. He was already outside when I let myself out, leaning against his car. He must have seem from my movements how much pain I was in, as he hurried over to me as I shut the door.

              "Oh my God Byron," he said as he took in my shiner.

              "That’s nothing compared to the rest of me," I said, lifting my shirt slowly so he could see the conglomeration of bruises up and down my ribs.

              His face contorted in rage, as he began cursing those guys who had done this to me.

              "I swear I am going to kill them when I see them again. This isn’t fucking right man. Oh my God, I am so sorry. I should have taken you home. This is all my fault."

              I felt bad he was blaming himself, and despite the pain, reached out and hugged him.

              "Please just let this go," I begged, not wanting him to escalate this. Not wanting him hurt, or going to jail.

              He nodded, but I could see in his eyes he was still wanting vengeance.

              "Can we sit in your car," I asked, my legs weak.

              He nodded yes as he opened the passenger door and helped me get in. He hurried around to the other side and got in with me.

              "How can I help you," he asked, the concern in his voice filling me with elation despite the pain.

              "Just your being here is help enough," I said, grabbing his hand. I loved how his hand felt in mine, loved how I felt with him being here with me.

              "Everything is better now that you are here," I said. "Now that we are together, nothing will bring us down. I can't wait till we move in together. I already picture what our wedding will be like," I said, floating on cloud nine as I pictured all of the things I was describing.

              "Woah, wait a minute Byron. Slow down there. You are taking all of this way to fast."

              I felt dread overwhelm me as his words collapsed the life I had been hoping for.

              "I care a lot about you, and find myself deeply attracted to you," he continued. "But I am not ready to live with anyone, not ready to get married yet. We still don’t even know each other that well, and as you already know, I just came out of a relationship. Let's not get carried away and move to quickly."

              I felt myself feeling sick as he said this, worry filling me that I had misread everything. Misread his feelings for me. I was so stupid.

              He must have read what I was thinking, and he leaned over and hugged me gently.

              "Look, I am not ruling any of those things out down the road. I am just saying let's take our time getting to know one another, make sure we are a good fit once the initial attraction begins waning and our personalities have had time to clash a few times. Make sure we are good at dealing with those moments before we jump into living with one another."

              I was filled with hurt, and despite my mind knowing how reasonable he was being, a part of me didn’t want to examine what he had said. Didn’t want to just be in the friend zone with benefits. I felt embarrassed and needed to get away from him, away from this moment.

              I nodded at him, feigning agreement as I spoke.

              "Your right," I lied. "Look, I feel like shit. I should get in and lay down. Thanks for coming over, and I will give you a call tomorrow, okay?"

              His face was filled with worry as he nodded, and it was evident he saw through my lame excuse to cut his visit short. But to his credit, he was kind enough not to call me on it. Kind enough to allow me time to process where I wanted this thing between us to go, if I did at all. He leaned forward quickly, his lips brushing mine. I felt my heart flutter, my attraction to him strong as he whispered he would like that. I got out and hobbled inside, my heart hurting worse than my ribs.