Description Yuri, a personal trainer, is already having a rushed and stressful day when he meets his first client, a young nurse who looks like he’s never lifted so much as a paper clip. On top of that, the banana he grabbed from the stash at the gym’s juice bar to make his morning protein shake was blue for some reason.
|Updated||27 Jun 2020|
Yuri checked the beeping alarm on his phone as he bustled into the gym and swore. His day was booked and he was already running late. And he was starving. He was going to be grumpy as fuck today.
Well, some of his clients liked that sort of thing.
He rushed to the back room and stowed his gym back in his staff locker before darting back into the main area and ducking behind the juice bar. Ajay, a lean but very defined “juice agent” with an exceptional ass, was busy mixing drinks and cashing out patrons, but he spared Yuri an exasperated smile. “You’re almost behind schedule,” he said, handing a grizzled man-mountain his card back. “Keep it up and you’ll dent your reputation as Mr. Reliable.”
“I thought they called me Mr. Sarcasm,” Yuri said, grabbing a blender caraffe with one hand and a banana from a bowl on the counter with the other. “Mind if I make myself a shake very quick?” he asked belatedly. “I need to get something in me before my new ten o’clock.”
Ajay wiggled his thick eyebrows but otherwise passed up the opening (so to speak) Yuri had given him. Instead he nodded his chin toward a corner of the main workout space opposite the juice bar. “Too late,” he said.
Yuri turned his head and saw a pale young man with dark red hair lurking there, acting more than a little out of place. He was scanning the weight room and all the gym rats there with obvious apprehension, like he’d finally been forced to go to P.E. class for the first time and was psyching himself up to make the best of it. His new-looking gray tee shirt and loose black running shorts couldn’t hide the fact that he had next to no muscle mass, at least compared to everyone else in the room. Even Ajay was better built than this guy.
Yuri regarded the guy skeptically. He wasn’t going to last more than one session—what a waste of time. His and the client’s.
With a sigh he set the blender caraffe in its base and went to peel the banana he’d picked up, only to notice for the first time that its skin was a pale, vivid blue instead of the usual yellow. He frowned over Ajay, who’d started mixing a juice drink for the forty-something woman behind the counter, a regular who always ran flat out for an hour on the treadmills with the grimmest possible expression on her face before heading in to her law office where, no doubt, she ate all the interns for breakfast. “Hey, Ajay, what’s up with these?”
Ajay looked over at the bowl with the other bananas. Yuri looked too. The others were all normal, yellow bananas. He looked back at Ajay, who shrugged and grinned. “Looks like you got the special one!”
“Can we move this along?” the lawyer interjected tartly. “I have court in an hour.”
“Right away, ma’am.”
Yuri turned back to his own drink in progress. He looked at the strange banana and hesitated, but he was, fundamentally, a shrug-and-get-on-with-it kind of guy. Shaking his head he peeled the banana, tossing the skin in the waste hole with one hand while breaking the firm fruit within into pieces and dumping it into the blender with the other. Retrieving his protein power from his stash under the counter he dumped in a generous portion, added pineapple juice and ice, and pressed the button, holding the lid down tight. Then he poured the smoothie into his extra-large plastic sports bottle, rinsed the blender caraffe, and headed over to his new client, downing the nearly half of his drink as he went. Hunger, at least, was appeased, if nothing else.
As Yuri approached the new client stared at him in a mix of awe and dismay before straightening up and pasting on a fake grin. A classic introvert who covered by acting the joker, Yuri realized. It was kind of cute, but he was in no mood. Still gripping his bottle he planted himself in front of the guy and folded his arms over the chest of his form-fitting compression tee.
“I am Yuri Maksimov,” he said sternly. He had six inches and a good sixty or seventy pounds on this guy, and he intended to use all of it to make it clear he wasn’t going to put up with any shit today. “I am your trainer. You will listen to me and do as I say.”
“Andy Owens,” the guy said. His hand twitched, as if he’d been about to offer it for a shake before seemingly thinking better of it. As overcompensation he added a little brashly, “Wow, a Russian personal trainer! What, are you going to go fight Rocky after this?”
Yuri glared at the kid, and he quailed very slightly. Why did everyone make that joke? He didn’t even look like the guy. He was a swarthy, hairy-chested Cossack like his fathers before him, damn it, not a blond, blue-eyed pretty-boy Swede with a fake accent.
Yuri shifted his stance to loom even more menacingly. “Yes,” he deadpanned, “I, as you say, exactly resemble Ivan Drago. Only without the steroids.”
“Y-you do, though,” the guy protested, looking him up and down. “You’ve even got the hair. And the red trunks!”
Yuri frowned at the guy. Would it kill anyone to not state the obvious? I should wear a tee shirt that says “I am not actually Ivan Drago”, he thought to himself, not for the first time. Then he glanced at the mirrored wall next to him and the reflection of his bare, hairless, thickly-muscled pecs. Assuming I started remembering to wear shirts to the gym, he added inwardly. He really needed to work on that.
He fixed his gaze firmly on his client. He was already almost done with this guy. “Clearly you are very smart and perceptive,” he mocked in a flat voice. “Your steel-trap mind penetrates all mysteries. Well done.”
Andy’s eyes widened as he stared back up at Yuri. “Uhh, thanks,” he said, a little faintly. He blinked a few times, then his eyes flicked abruptly to the sports bottle Yuri was gripping. He stared at it in what looked like surprise for a moment, his lips forming a silent “o”, then he glanced back up at Yuri. “Uh, hey, you know, I need a protein shake, too, before we get started,” he said, in a fake-casual tone. “Maybe I could have the rest of yours?”
“C’mon, Yuri, it’s right there,” Andy pressed, watching Yuri closely. “You might as well let me—”
Yuri unfolded his arms, lifted the bottle to his lips, and downed the whole rest of the protein shake in three long gulps. When he lowered the bottle he saw a flicker of a smile playing at Andy’s lips. He felt played, somehow, though he wasn’t sure why.
He should find a way to cut this kid. He looked too young to even be working out here. “How old are you, anyway?” he growled, suddenly suspicious.
Andy gave him a wary look. “Uh, I’m 24,” he said. “Just your basic newly minted nurse practitioner, looking to get in shape…”
“Uh huh.” Yuri frowned at him. “You don’t look 24.”
Andy seemed like he was trying not to be alarmed. “How old do I look?” he asked cautiously.
“You look like you are 16,” Yuri said.
“Shit,” the baby-faced redhead swore. “I’m not, though,” he shot back urgently.
“I think you are 16,” Yuri persisted. “17, tops.”
“You may think that,” Andy answered, standing his ground, “but I am 24. I had to show my license when I did the gym contract and everything.” He looked down and added in a grumble, “I always have to show my license.”
Yuri huffed. “Fine,” he said. “You are 24.”
“Perhaps,” Yuri added grudgingly, “we can make it so you look your age, and not like a spindly teenager.”
Andy looked up again, and Yuri saw something kindle in his jade-green eyes. “That’s why I’m here,” he said. “Train me, Yuri. Make me strong. Don’t hold back.”
Yuri scrutinized him, wondering what had prompted this sudden hard-body craving. Probably a better-built guy at his new job—either a bully or a love interest. Yuri could relate—he hadn’t always been stacked and sculpted like frickin’ Ivan Drago. “Hmmph,” Yuri grunted, softening a little. “You have balls, kid.”
“Yeah?” the cute, young redhead responded cheekily, his confidence resurging. “How big are my balls?”
Yuri gave him a steady, uncompromising look. “Very big.”
They started out on preacher curls, then moved to the squat rack and the bench press, Yuri wanting to gauge Andy’s rough starting ranges in each area before setting up a rotating exercise regime. Only it didn’t go quite as Yuri expected. Yuri barked the same gruff encouragements he always did—”You got this! You can do it!”—but where most starting clients washed out of a new exercise quickly, Andy gave every sign of being able to complete every lift Yuri told him he could do. He couldn’t find the kid’s baseline, because every increase in weight became something Andy could power to full extension and back the moment Yuri pushed him.
On the bench press Andy had gotten up to 300 pounds, having lifted everything under that with only a few words of motivation from Yuri. Only now he was struggling. Yuri stood by at spot, ready to grab the bar, but he was so stunned by this skinny kid’s uncanny strength he was determined to see how far it could go. “C’mon, kid!” he growled, as Andy strained against the weight. Yuri tried another of his usual speeches. “You control your muscles, not the other way around! You tell them what to do, how big to be, how strong they are! C’mon, push! Push!” Once again, it seemed to be working. Andy’s chest, arms and shoulders seemed to actually swell even as Andy slowly drove the bar higher, inching toward full extension. Fascinated, Yuri kept going. “That’s it! C’mon! You can lift anything if you put your mind to it!”
Andy gasped. Suddenly the bar shot all the way up, so fast the weights almost rattled, Andy’s arms straight up and fully extended. Andy laughed, and started pressing the 300-pound load as if it weighed literally nothing. He did a few more effortless reps and then rested the bar and sat up.
Yuri came around to gape at him. Andy was suddenly transformed, as if three years of muscle training had been compressed into the last ten seconds. His sweat-soaked tee shirt and dark shorts, both of which had hung loose and limp on him as if on a clothes hanger only moments before, now strained across a bulging torso and strapping thighs almost as impressive as Yuri’s own years-perfected, movie-quality physique.
“Thanks for that,” Andy said, panting a little. He took a long swig from his own water bottle before adding, “That was exactly what I needed.” He was grinning up at Yuri with utter exhilaration.
Yuri stared down at him, feeling a little pale. “H-how—?” he stammered.
Andy looked confused, and Yuri gestured at his suddenly swole, clothes-straining bod. “Oh, right,” he said, looking down. “I… probably overdid it a little.” He seemed to concentrate, and Yuri watched in stunned disbelief as his musculature shrank from heavyweight to welterweight in the space of a few heartbeats. The kid was still considerably more buff than the skinny guy who’d walked in, but now the change wasn’t nearly as noticeable at a glance as his supersized look had been just a moment ago.
“Ho-oly mother…” Yuri said, a little louder than he intended. He felt suddenly unsteady, and Andy quickly leapt up and guided Yuri down onto the bench, so that they had effectively traded places. Yuri looked quickly around, but no one was paying them any attention. “How did you do that?” he asked more quietly.
Andy smiled affectionately down at him. “Don’t you see? You told me that I can control the size of my muscles,” he said. He looked down, and his pecs gradually flared outward until his sweaty shirt was straining again, before sinking back down to their new, more demure size.
Yuri found himself feeling unaccountably flushed. Since when was he turned on by watching a guy’s muscles get bigger? Hell, that was his job, getting muscles to grow. Though, usually it wasn’t quite so… instantaneous…
“You want to know what else you just told me?” Andy said gleefully. When Yuri just stared Andy went on, “You told me I can understand things. Figure things out. And—” He leaned forward a little and whispered, “You told me I can lift anything.”
Yuri’s heart tripped. “But—I don’t—” he sputtered, dismayed.
“It’s okay,” Andy said, resting a hand on Yuri’s shoulder. “It’s temporary. You just ingested an artifact of the universe, that’s all,” he explained. “In your protein shake. The banana, I think.”
Yuri flashed back to the strange blue banana he’d used. In retrospect, its unique coloring was freighted with significance. “Huh,” he said, feeling a little misaligned with the universe. He wasn’t sure what to think about any of this.
Could what Andy was saying really be the explanation for what he’d just seen?
Andy bit his lip, giving him an assessing look. “It’s going to wear off soon, I think,” he said. His eyes lit. “Quick, tell me I can fly.”
“What?” Yuri said, shocked.
“C’mon, please?” Andy pleaded. “I promise you won’t regret it. Tell me I can fly.”
Yuri blinked at him. It was a ridiculous request—and also, if what Andy was telling him was true, a huge one. And yet something told him he really could trust the young-looking, red-headed, nicely built and (apparently) super-smart and infinitely strong man who stood before him. With a gulp he met Andy’s green-eyed gaze and said, quietly but firmly, “You can fly.”
Beaming, Andy looked down at his feet. Yuri did the same, just in time to see Andy’s black and white running shoes lift silently off the cushioned weight-room floor, the toes dipping slightly as though Andy were just hanging there, detached from the law of gravity.
Yuri looked up dumbfounded. Andy was still beaming. “Best origin story ever,” he said, bending down for a quick kiss on the lips. When he straightened up he nodded toward the side exit. “I should go,” he said. “Test some of this out.”
He turned to leave, but Yuri grabbed his arm. He’d finally gotten a handle on at least some of what had happened, and he knew there was one more thing he had to do. When Andy’s curious eyes met his again he said, very seriously, “You will use your powers only for good.”
Andy grinned. “I will,” he vowed. “Just like my mentor.” He winked and added, “You should keep your powers and use them for good.”
“I—what?” Yuri said, frowning. He let go of Andy’s arm. “I thought you said they were temporary.”
Andy shrugged his newly muscled shoulders. “Just say, ‘The artifact is always within me’.”
“‘The artifact is always within me’?” Yuri repeated skeptically.
“There, see?” Andy said happily. “Easy peasy. Now you can keep doing it. Oh! Oh!” he said, suddenly excited. He placed both his hands on Yuri’s powerful, bare shoulders. “Tell me I have a big penis.”
Involuntarily Yuri glanced down at Andy’s crotch, which looked rather prominent above his thick, corded thighs. A large bulge stood out shaped by a jock underneath, and belatedly Yuri remembered telling Andy he had very large balls. He shivered. Evidently even that had become literally true.
“Go ahead, you can do it,” Andy was urging him. “That’s totally using your powers for good.”
Yuri looked up at him with narrowed eyes. Slowly he rose to his feet, straddling the bench. Andy, though inches shorter than Yuri, kept his hands on Yuri’s shoulders, beaming the whole time. Their heights evened out, and Yuri realized the kid must be floating to match Yuri’s own six-foot-five. That… definitely felt like cheating.
“Go ahead,” Andy repeated, unintimidated. “Hit me. I can take it. Tell me I have huge whopper of a penis.” He closed his eyes, waiting eagerly. How much of this Andy was putting on for show, Yuri couldn’t quite tell, but he played along… in his own fashion.
Yuri bent toward his ear. “Your penis,” he said in a whispered hiss, “is… of exactly average length.”
Andy opened one eye to peer unhappily at him, his lower lip pushing up as if he might pout. Yuri felt his mouth curling into a slight smile.
He let him sweat a few seconds before continuing. “But,” he added, still close to Andy’s ear, “it is also twice as wide when hard as any cock you’ve ever seen.”
Andy’s eyes opened and his smile bloomed again. “I can work with that,” he said happily.
Yuri straightened up, and Andy let his hands slide off Yuri’s shoulders as he dropped gently back to the ground. He then offered his right hand to Yuri. He took it, and they shook, Yuri feeling oddly moved.
“Thanks, Yuri,” Andy said sincerely. He added with a smile, “We should do a team-up sometime. If you every need anything figured out, or, you know, lifted…” He leaned in and whispered, “The contact info for my secret identity is in your files.”
Yuri regarded him steadily. “Agreed,” he said tonelessly. “Good luck with your… endeavors.”
“Likewise,” Andy replied with a wink. Stowing his water bottle in the small backpack he’d brought with him he turned and headed off, toward the side exit. Curious, Yuri decided to follow him.
Once they were out in the alley beside the gym, Andy pulled on his backpack, took a quick look around, then dramatically thrust his fist in the air and shot into the sky. With a quick wave he banked toward the sun and soared out of sight.
Yuri stared after him a moment, amused and a little awed, pondering just how differently than anticipated his first appointment of the day had gone. Just then his phone beeped in the pocket of his red trunks with a reminder notification. He pulled it out and swore. His eleven o’clock would be here any minute.
It was going to be an interesting day.