Men of Steel

by Ryan Loveless

  “Ooooh,” said the blonde. “Not too many times, I must say. If you want to leave it, I know I can get it back to you. I might even get him to autograph your lovely little book.”

  The woman was starting to piss him off.

  “You don’t understand,” Daniel said. “I’m not from here. I’m from Kansas City. That’s where this happened.” He speared one of the pictures with a finger. “Maybe heroes catch falling people all the time here in New York, but where I’m from it’s not an everyday occurrence.”

  “All right, then,” she said. “How about I make you an appointment?”

  Daniel felt a rush of hope...

  The blonde’s fingers began to dance over a glass keyboard. “Let me see. Ah, yes! I can arrange a few minutes for you in... November.”

  ...and felt that hope crushed again. “November? That’s six months away! I have to head back to Kansas City in a few days.”

  You’re whining, came the voice of his friend John in his head.

  I’m not whining, Daniel whined to himself.

  The woman behind the counter blinked at him, but the smile plastered on her face didn’t waver even a nanometer. “I’m sorry, sir,” she said. “But our heroes are very busy. Their work is never done, you know.”

  Daniel ran his fingers through his hair. This couldn’t be over that easily. “Let me think,” he said aloud.

  The woman nodded and turned to the next person in what was becoming a line.

  “Hey,” said a girl with purple hair. “I was wondering if I could talk to Epitome?”

  “Do you have an appointment?” asked the blonde woman.

  “No, but I’m sure she’ll see me, it’s about a benefit....”

  God, thought Daniel. Had he really thought he was the only person who wanted to meet a superhero?

  So close! Paragon is so close! He’s probably right upstairs this very minute.

  “Sir, excuse me! Sir?”

  He looked back to see the blonde woman waving at him. “You forgot your book.”

  Shit. Daniel went to her. “Thank you,” he said, and gave a yelp of surprise when he reached for the untouched book and his hand passed through hers.

  My God! She’s a hologram! No wonder she’s so perfect. She’s not real.

  Shaking his head, he took his things and went to sit down on one of the half dozen couches located around the room.

  Think. There has got to be a way.

  “Your problem,” John had said on one occasion, “is that you’re not treated seriously.”

  “No shit. I can’t even get promoted at work. And I’m damned good at my job.”

  “Part of your problem,” John said, “is that you’re so damned pretty. You’re as pretty as a girl, with those big blue eyes, and those lashes a drag queen would kill for. And your skin... Girl! Flawless. That mouth... born to be kissed. Your Disney nose... so adorable. And that goatee you decided to grow doesn’t butch you up one iota. Pretty, pretty, pretty.”

  Daniel had both blanched and blushed at that last. He’d been called pretty all his life and he just didn’t see it. Not one bit. When he looked at himself in the mirror all he saw was a blond, skinny geek. He hated his body. He’d joined a gym, but while his body had responded, he’d never managed to get the physique of his dreams. It didn’t matter how many hours he worked out, he came to realize he would never look like Paragon. Not without the benefit of being bitten by a radioactive spider or bombarded by gamma rays.

  “I’d kill for your body,” John told him one afternoon after they’d been working out. “I, it seems, have had Mother Earth bequeath me with a body that is known in the vernacular as ‘Rubenesque’.”

  “What?”

  “Plump, pleasantly plump.”

  Daniel hadn’t commented on that!

  “You should have your picture in the dictionary under the word ‘bubble butt’.”

  “Gug,” Daniel croaked. Bubble butt. “I hate my ass.”

  “Are you out of your mind, girl? You have one of the most fuckable asses I’ve ever seen. Blind, straight men want to fuck you. I, bottom of bottoms, would fuck you.”

  “Dammit!” Daniel shouted, “What if I want to do the fucking?”

  It wasn’t that he didn’t like to bottom. He liked it. A lot. But he liked to top just as much. He couldn’t figure out why a gay man would be exclusively one over the other. They were both incredibly pleasurable. Being topped was amazing, lighting fuses and awakening nerve endings that were a treat to the senses. But was there ever anything sexier than a man’s ass? The rounded cheeks, the cleft that parted them, the beautiful, tiny pink pucker hiding within. Burying himself within that precious place was a wonder and a delight. Like wet velvet caught within an almost vise-like grip. To watch yourself disappear into such divine masculinity was heaven.

  A heaven he’d only experienced perhaps a dozen times.

  It seemed he was always being denied what he wanted in one way or another.

  So maybe it was time to go after what he really wanted.

  Be assertive, not aggressive.

  “Excuse me, ma’am?” Daniel said, returning to the reception desk.

  The hologram turned to Daniel, all smiles of course. “May I help you, Mr. Atwater?”

  “I think I will leave a few things for Paragon.”

  “How wonderful.”

  He held out his scrapbook and the gift he’d bought for Paragon. “And I’ll leave that message as well,” he said.

  DANIEL had just stepped out of the bathroom of his hotel room, a towel wrapped around his middle, when his day took a sudden turn.

  That was when he saw Paragon.

  Daniel’s mouth dropped open, his eyes went wide, and his hands flew to his waist to make sure that towel was really there. Because Paragon was floating right outside his window.

  His tenth-story window.

  Their eyes locked for just a second, and then the hero had the good grace to look embarrassed, cover his eyes, and vanish. Not a minute later, there was a knock on the door. Still stunned, Daniel peeked through the peephole and there he was: Paragon.

  “Gug,” was all Daniel could say, and then he shook himself. “Hold on,” he called out, and quickly scrambled for his jeans and a sweatshirt. Paragon is standing out there in the hall!

  Excitement surged through his veins as Daniel opened the door.

  Paragon stood there big as life and twice as real. “Daniel Atwater?”

  For a moment Daniel was incapable of answering. He was just as frozen as when he’d first met Paragon in his office half a year before. It was only the fear of looking like a total idiot—and his friend John’s voice in his head, Say something, girl!—that got his mouth to work. “Yes,” he said, and then, mustering up more, “that’s me.”

  The hero smiled, revealing those perfect white teeth. “I’m Paragon.”

  “I know,” Daniel said, his voice all but squeaking. He took a deep breath, “My God, I can’t believe it.”

  Paragon’s smile widened and his blue eyes twinkled. “Believe it. I got your scrapbook. And your gift,” Paragon said, holding them up. The gift was still wrapped. “Thank you.”

  “You didn’t open it,” Daniel said.

  Paragon shrugged. Somehow the gesture from the mountain of a man made Daniel think of avalanches.

  “I remember you,” said Paragon. “I felt bad about leaving you on that roof, but I didn’t really have a choice. And then you were gone, and I never really knew if you’d made it down okay.”

  Daniel waved his hands in front of him. “No, no, no. Don’t worry about that. My God, you saved my life.”

  “All in a day’s work,” Paragon said. Of course he did. He was Captain America and Superman all rolled into one, wasn’t he?

  Daniel grinned stupidly and finally remembered his manners. “Would you like to come in?”

  “Yes,” Paragon said. “I would.”

  Daniel stepped aside, and he had to do a lot of stepping to let the huge ma
n in. So big, Daniel marveled, echoing his first thoughts upon meeting the superhero. Like Arnold Schwarzenegger, but after he’d toned it down from grossly big to just magnificently so. Daniel felt a tingle deep inside. Paragon. Paragon is right here!

  The big man stood in the middle of the room, swaying slightly from heel to toe. Somehow it came across as awkward and charming at the same time.

  “Sit down,” Daniel offered. “Wherever.”

  “Let me give you this first.” Paragon held out Daniel’s scrapbook. “Hope you don’t mind, but I signed it.”

  “No, I don’t mind,” Daniel exclaimed. Yeah, right, like I would mind! He opened the book and read the words he found on the opening page. Below the words he himself had placed on the opening page—Paragon, A Hero of Our Times—was written, “For Daniel, best wishes, Paragon.”

  Daniel glowed with pleasure despite the standard phrasing of the autograph. He ran his fingers over the strong, bold lettering and smiled happily. “Thanks,” he said, all but gushing.

  He sat down on the edge of his bed and Paragon pulled a chair away from a small desk and sat down across from him.

  “I just can’t believe you’re really here,” Daniel said.

  “You invited me,” Paragon replied.

  “Yeah, but I didn’t really think you’d show up. I mean, I hoped, but your—I don’t know what to call her—receptionist? She said you guys were so busy.”

  Paragon rolled his eyes (his gorgeous liquid blue eyes). “Ahh, HARPER. She’s one of Constellation’s inventions. Her name stands for, ah damn... I can never remember it... hold on... Holographic Autonomous Reasoning Projected Equivalent Receptionist. She is so cheerful, I’m surprised she doesn’t blow a circuit.”

  “Why is she a hologram?” Daniel asked.

  “So she can’t be threatened,” Paragon explained. “Or taken hostage. Anything like that.”

  “Oh,” Daniel said. “I never thought about it like that. How cool.”

  “I guess,” Paragon replied, “but sometimes I just want to pull her plug.”

  Daniel laughed. He couldn’t help it. The image the words created in his mind was too funny. Smiling receptionist there. Blink. Smiling receptionist gone. Then he remembered his original train of thought. “Anyway, HARPER said I wouldn’t be able to see you until November.”

  “November? That’s what? Six months? And you’re from Kansas City?”

  “That’s what I said,” Daniel answered, pleased that Paragon remembered.

  “Well, you did what few have done,” Paragon replied. “You thwarted HARPER. I’m impressed.”

  “Compared to flying and catching people falling from buildings, I’d say that’s small potatoes.”

  “You don’t know HARPER,” Paragon replied, laughing.

  He leaned back and Daniel couldn’t help but notice the acres of muscles as they rippled beneath the hero’s costume. He tried not to look lower, but it wasn’t easy.

  What other opportunity are you going to have, came John’s voice. Look! Look!

  “No,” Daniel said out loud and forced his eyes upward.

  “And you don’t really want to,” Paragon said, apparently thinking Daniel was responding to his last comment.

  “I’m just so glad you’re here! Thank you. You don’t know what this means to me. You’re my hero.” With those last words Daniel blushed furiously. He was acting just like the twelve-year-old girl his friends often compared him to.

  “It’s a pleasure,” Paragon said. “You know, I don’t often get to hang around normal people. I’m usually around supers twenty-four-seven.”

  “Well, how lucky for me then,” Daniel replied, trying to act his age. “Why don’t you open your present?”

  “Sure,” Paragon said.

  “It’s really nothing much,” Daniel said.

  Paragon grinned all the same and tore into the package. It took him all of an instant and the box was gone and a mug was in his hand. “Oh!” Paragon cried. “Breakables.” He held it out carefully as if it were fine crystal. “World’s Greatest Hero” proclaimed the words on its surface.

  “It’s not that breakable,” Daniel said.

  “For you, maybe,” Paragon replied.

  “Did I get the wrong thing?”

  “Oh, no!” Paragon shook his head. “It’s great. I just want to be careful.”

  “I thought about a shirt. My friend John said I should have gotten you a shirt, but I didn’t have a clue what size to get. Extra, extra, extra-large? What size do you wear?”

  “Depends on how tight you want it,” Paragon answered. “I swear Constellation wants us all to wear size small. He says it fits the superhero image. But, Jesus! You can tell my religion in this get-up.”

  “I didn’t notice,” Daniel said, feeling his face heat up. Hadn’t he just been fighting the urge to look down? And, oh! Was that color on Paragon’s face? Was the hero blushing too?

  “Say,” Paragon said after a pregnant pause. “You want to get out of here? I’m starving.”

  “Sure!” Daniel exclaimed, thinking of his dining fantasy.

  “I know this great little place,” Paragon said, standing and carefully placing the mug on the desk. “It caters to my kind.”

  “What kind is that?” Daniel asked, and then inwardly kicked himself.

  “Why, supers,” Paragon said, “and the food is good, too.”

  “Wherever,” Daniel said. “Just let me treat.”

  “No,” Paragon said. “This place is pretty pricey. And besides, I can put it on my expense account. I never use it. Let’s let Constellation pay this time.”

  DANIEL hadn’t expected them to fly to the restaurant.

  Paragon had given him time to change into something nice (a pair of black slacks, and a sweater of hodge-podge browns and blacks)—he had said the restaurant was “pricey” after all—but when they got to the elevator banks, Paragon pressed the up button instead of the down.

  “Is the restaurant up top?” Daniel asked.

  “No, but the roof is,” Paragon answered.

  Before Daniel could figure out what was going on, it was too late. They’d no sooner arrived on the roof than Paragon had scooped him up, pushed a (locked) door open, and then they were rising up into the sky.

  “Oh, no!” Daniel cried and slammed his eyes shut.

  “You okay?” Paragon asked.

  “Heights!” Daniel shuddered and pressed himself against the hero’s immense chest.

  “Afraid?”

  “Y-yes.”

  “You don’t need to be, I got you. I won’t drop you. You believe that, don’t you?”

  Daniel tried to. He gave a quick nod.

  “You said I was your hero, right?” Paragon’s voice was like butter.

  “Right,” Daniel somehow whispered.

  “Then trust me. Open your eyes. This isn’t something a normal guy gets to see very often.”

  God! Did he dare? They were flying, after all. Flying!

  But he’s right, came John’s voice. When is this ever gonna happen again? You’ll kick yourself forever if you don’t look.

  Which was true. He would.

  Daniel clenched his teeth and, pulling on every reservoir of courage he had, gradually opened his eyes. Oh my God! his mind screamed. He closed his eyes again, almost as quickly as the first time. They were high. They were very, very, very high. He’d had only one glimpse and in that time seen a building rooftop beneath them and tiny Matchbox cars glowing on the streets below.

  Too much!

  “Daniel, I promise you’re safe. Put your arms around my neck if you need to. Here, follow my voice, look into my face.”

  Slowly, Daniel did as he was bid. He turned his face toward Paragon’s voice, peeked little by little through slitted lids and into Paragon’s masked face. Those blue eyes. Even in the nighttime sky he could see them. Beautiful. Had he ever seen eyes like that before? Were eyes supposed to be that color? Were they super-eyes or something?

  �
�You okay?” Paragon asked.

  “I-I think so. I still don’t want to look down.”

  Daniel saw disappointment in those eyes and found that almost hurt. He didn’t want to let Paragon down. “I’ll try though,” he added quickly.

  “Put your arms around my neck, clasp your hands together.”

  “O-okay.” That proved easier said than done, though. Paragon really was a big man and the muscles of his chest and neck and back were huge. Daniel could barely reach around, but when his hands were finally more or less clasped together, he nodded. “All right,” he said.

  “Now feel my arms around you?” Paragon asked.

  They squeezed just a bit, and Daniel told Paragon that he did indeed feel those arms. Like velvet-covered concrete, and he couldn’t help but shiver. It was that thought that made him truly and suddenly appreciate his circumstances. He was lying in the powerful and very real arms—held against the chest—of his hero. And they were flying.

  The look on Paragon’s face was nothing but sweet and kind, and it was all Daniel could do not to kiss the man.

  That’ll make him drop you. It was John in his head again.

  It was also that voice, along with Paragon’s expression, that let Daniel do it. Look down.

  It was magic.

  The city floated leisurely beneath them and it was beautiful. So close and so far, the lights of the buildings, the signs—oh, there was Times Square!—the tiny cars with their headlights—it was all a lovely and powerful and stunningly impossible sight.

  Daniel pulled himself a little closer against Paragon just to be sure, took comfort in the power that let them fly (fly! they were flying!), and let himself be caught up in the moment.

  This isn’t something a normal guy gets to see very often.