Anvil

Andre was alone, so he moved the pin in the stack to the middle and set up the cables for a Standing Chest Press. He gripped the D handles and faced away from the machine. He pressed the handles forward in a semicircular motion until both arms were fully extended. He slowly released the pressure and began again. He did a set of ten, then moved the pin down another four plates and did another set of ten.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa! Marin! You don't start off that high!" the coach growled as he entered the room.

At his back were four members of the basketball team, also in their gym clothes: Henry Fisher, Rick Halton, Greg Davis, and Kevin Zeigler. All but Davis were in his previous class and were dating cheerleaders he sat near. These were the guys who glared at him even though he had no say in where he sat. Great.

"What's he doing here?" one of them asked the teacher belligerently.

"The same as you, Fisher. Working out," Garlin snapped, then turned back to Andre. "You need to start with less and build up."

"I did," Andre said, and the teacher stared at him, then shrugged.

"Whatever. You know how to use these machines?" Garin asked, and Andre nodded. "Okay. Don't hurt yourself on them, or I cut off your access privileges," the teacher grumbled.

Andre nodded and moved the D handles to the lower cables. He adjusted the pin back up four plates and proceeded to do Standing Bicep Curls. After doing his warm-up set, he moved the pin and went through it again with the additional weight.

He followed the program Gloria set up for him to strengthen his arms, shoulders, back, and abs until he was sweating and his muscles trembled.

While he did his routine, he heard some of the other machines being used and the teacher giving instructions. Occasionally, he would catch one of the others watching him, but he just ignored them and pushed himself harder, glaring at nothing and quietly growling through the pain from behind his hair.

He glanced at the clock as he needed to shower and would need at least fifteen minutes to do that, dress, and get his books for the afternoon classes. He had time for one last set, so he pushed himself through it, then stepped away from the machine.

Mr. Garlin approached him and smiled at how much tighter the t-shirt had become. He knew this kid had muscles hidden under those baggy clothes.

"So, what do you say? Think you might like to get involved in the weightlifting team?" he asked.

Andre glanced at him from behind his bangs. "I'm not good with team things," he said quietly. His eyes jumped to look at the four other young men who were giving him scowls. They seemed upset with him, but he had no idea why.

"Think about it as you hit the shower. I think it could be good for you," the man insisted as he turned back to his basketball players.

Andre quickly went to get his shower kit and headed for the shower. He stood under the blast of hot water and washed his hair and aching body.

He didn't hear the others following him until he spotted Fisher out of the corner of his eye and looked sharply at him. "What?" he snapped, agitated by their stealthy approach. His eyes flicked to each of their faces. They were looking at his body and being blatant about it. Again, none were smiling.

Fisher finally worked up the nerve to speak. "We don't need a freak like you sweating all over the new equipment the school purchased for us."

Andre's mind latched onto the term freak, and his mind took him back to the day Gloria beat him. She'd used that term as she pounded on his face with her heavy fists.

Sensing his attention had drifted, Fisher made the mistake of giving Andre's shoulder a shove.

"DON'T TOUCH ME!" Andre roared suddenly and surged at the other young man, who tried to leap back but slipped and fell on his ass. Andre watched the other three grab Fisher's arms and pull him away from the trembling man standing over him.

Turning back to the shower, Andre scrubbed the soap over the area Fisher touched. He could feel the other man's filth on his skin!

He had to be clean!

-=-

Once they were out of the shower room, Fisher looked at the others, all wide-eyed with shock. They moved to the corner of the locker room.

"What the FUCK is wrong with him?" Fisher hissed quietly. "Did you see him scrubbing his shoulder?"

Davis got a determined look in his eye and rushed over to his locker. He jogged past seconds later with his cell phone and headed back into the shower room. He returned a short time later.

Fisher looked at Davis with a confused frown. "Why the hell were you taking a picture of him? Are you a fag or something?"

"Fuck you! You're a fag for asking!" Davis snapped in return.

"Answer the question! Why did you take a picture of him?" Fisher pressed.

Davis scowled and nodded as he looked into the eyes of the others. "You know how Marin is always dressed in that goth wear, all baggy and shit? He's obviously hiding himself! He doesn't talk to anyone or look at anyone. It's like he's hiding. We saw him acting like an animal on the functional trainer, and now he loses his shit after a simple touch? He must have serious mental issues! He doesn't want anyone to look at him. Imagine how he'll react when he finds out everyone knows what he's hiding. I think we can get rid of him by leaking the photo. Maybe permanently."

Fisher was looking at Davis with a surprised grin. "Holy fuck! You have a twisted and devious mind! I love it!" They heard Marin rush over to his locker and start getting dressed.

Zeigler smiled at Davis. "How do we get it to everyone at the school without getting caught?"

"I know one of the techs on the school's networking team. She'll send it to everyone's mailbox for me without leaving a trail," Davis grinned.

"All for the price of...?" Halton asked.

"Man, you know I never turn down the chance to eat a little pussy, even if it's on the chunky side," Davis grinned. The others picked up the grin.

"Have you idiots hit the shower yet?" Garlin growled at his players from the other side of the locker room.

"Sorry, coach! On our way!" Fisher called out.

Davis slipped his cell into his locker, then they rushed into the shower to clean up before their next class.

He didn't tell the others that the actual tech he'd be asking for the favor preferred Davis' dick in his ass as he did a reach around.

The incredible picture he'd taken was also going into Davis' personal collection.

Fuck! Marin was packing!

-=-

Andre rushed home after school. It had been a mistake to work out at school. His skin crawled at the memory of Fisher touching him. He picked up his pace.

He'd had difficulty concentrating in the afternoon. He'd aced the Chemistry quiz as he could focus on that. But listening to the teachers had been a struggle as his brain was busy drowning out their voices with its own internal dialog and the thousands of other stimuli coming in.

Finally, the last bell rang, and he was free.

He was making a pork roast for Cassandra tonight, so he went over the recipe in his mind and ensured he had all the ingredients at home. He was passing a small neighborhood bakery and slowed his steps. A baguette would be a nice addition. He stepped inside the shop and picked up a fresh breadstick.

The next shop had fresh-cut flowers, so he bought a small bouquet for their table.

Dessert was bought from the bodega on the corner.

Smiling as he rushed home with his purchases, he shook off the last of his unsettled nerves and let himself into the apartment. He had dinner to prepare before Cassandra got home.

He tugged his school clothes off and slipped on his running shorts and a tank top. The kitchen was going to get hot as the old oven leaked heat.

He put the flowers in a small vase and set it on the small table beside the window. The view it had was of the painted brick wall of the building across an empty lot. At least the afternoon light painted the wall with its brilliant colors and lit up their kitchen.

Preparing dinner focused his mind, and he enjoyed cooking for his sister.

He turned the oven on and sliced up two onions to line the roasting pan. He rinsed the pork roast and placed it atop the onions, adding more onions on top. He added baby carrots and potatoes to the roasting pan, then added water to the pan. He sprinkled dried basil flakes over the veggies and meat for seasoning. Finally, the lid went on, and he slid the roaster into the oven.

Andre hand-washed the utensils he'd used, tidied the kitchen, and set the table. He wished he had a bottle of wine for Cassandra, but he was only eighteen and couldn't buy one. Not that he'd drink any. He didn't like the taste or how it made his mind feel.

While he waited, he did his homework. None of it challenged him, so he finished quickly and put his books back into his backpack. He put that near the entrance for the morning and plugged his cell into the charger in the kitchen.

With nothing else to do, he made another pass through the apartment, except for Cassandra's room, to ensure everything was neat and clean.

A little more than ninety minutes after he got home, he heard keys in the door and wandered over to greet her.

"Seriously, piss off, TJ!"

"Come on, don't be so cold, bitch."

Andre frowned and yanked the door open. Cassandra gripped the handle tight, so she stumbled inside, away from their neighbor and into Andre's arms.

He noted the big man had been standing entirely too close to Cassandra. TJ shifted his bleary eyes to look into Andre's dark eyes.

"Don't call Cassandra a bitch. Don't touch her. Never again. Do you hear me?" Andre growled menacingly as he gently eased his sister behind him.

TJ blinked at the rage he saw building in those dark eyes. Even baked as he was, he recognized the threat of the smaller man. It felt like he was facing down a rabid animal, one twitch away from ripping his face off with his teeth! He raised his palms in surrender as he leaned away and stepped back toward his door across the hall.

"It's cool! Jus' trying to be frien'ly. Shit," TJ grumbled. He never looked away from Andre's eyes until he closed his door between them.

Intensely aware of Cassandra's hands resting on his back, Andre carefully stepped back and closed the door to lock it. She rested her forehead on his shoulder and released the breath she'd been holding.

"Are you okay, Cassandra?" Andre asked.

She sighed and stepped back from him. "Yes. Sorry. I just didn't need to deal with that asshole at the end of my day."

Andre nodded as he turned to face her. He struggled to keep his eyes from roaming over her body. She sighed and took her jacket off. His resolve crumbled as her heavy breasts pressed tightly against her cream blouse. He drank in the sight, then raised his eyes to hers and caught the tail end of a little smile as she turned and headed for her room.

"Dinner smells fabulous! I'll be right out. Thanks for saving me from TJ," she said over her shoulder as she away walked down the hall. Andre's eyes were trapped by the sight of her ass in the tight skirt. Then she closed her door behind her, and Andre was freed from her spell.

He picked up her purse and placed it on the kitchen counter. He pulled her cell from it to plug it in.

Going back to the hall, he took her dress shoes from the carryall and cleaned them with an old rag from the hall closet. The carryall went into the kitchen, where he pulled the lunch bag from it.

The carryall was stored on the corner of the kitchen counter for the morning.

He washed his hands, then the spoon from the lunch bag. That went back into the lunch bag with another pudding. This went into the fridge for now. He'd finish making his sister's lunch from the leftover roast later tonight.

Dinner was almost ready, so he put the breadstick into the oven next to the roasting pan. He heard the bathroom door close and glanced at the clock on the stove. He hoped she wouldn't be long as he didn't want to overcook the roast.

Everything had to be perfect for her.

-=-

Cassandra washed her face and tried to shake off the tingles her body was still going through after teasing Andre. She dried her face, then looked in the mirror with an angry scowl. How was she treating him any different than Gloria had? He was a young male. His hormones probably controlled him, and she was teasing him? What the fuck was wrong with her?

She needed to stop thinking of him in terms of being male. He was her brother! They may have had different mothers, but they shared the same demon as their father! She grit her teeth as a flare of rage shot through her. She'd promised herself she'd stop thinking of that monster.

The way Andre came to her rescue tonight returned to her thoughts unbidden.

The moment she'd reached her door, TJ stepped out of his and began pressing himself against her. When her door suddenly opened, she'd fallen in, landing against the solid muscles of Andre's chest. His powerful hands and arms guided her behind him as he faced off against the bigger man without hesitation. She'd immediately felt safer.

She saw the look on her neighbor's face. Even stoned as the big man was, he was frightened of Andre! That sent a surge of lust through her, and she'd rested her hands against her brother's back. The hard slabs of muscle in his back were trembling with restrained power, and that felt... so good!

When the danger was over, she knew she had to rein it in, but she couldn't stop herself from arching her back as she took her jacket off, which pressed her girls tight against her shirt. She caught Andre's wide-eyed appreciation of that. Another flash of lust shot through her and put a wiggle in her hips as she walked to her bedroom.

Andre never shortened her name. Never Cass or Sandy or even Sandra, always Cassandra. She loved the way he said it, too. Like she was royalty or someone significant. Hearing her name from his lips made her feel special.

It was only once she was behind her door that her guilt crashed through her. Her sexual frustration must be getting out of control. She'd glanced to her bedside table where her rubber friend waited in the drawer for their next date.

She'd pulled off her clothes and put on her comfy clothes, yoga pants, a tank, and a t-shirt. As she hated wearing bras at home and her girls couldn't go without some support, she'd taken to wearing tight tank tops under the loose t-shirt. She'd run out of her own tanks, so she'd borrowed one of Andre's.

As she now stood in the bathroom, giving herself a troubled look in the mirror, she couldn't stop herself from thinking about how his tank top was squeezing her breasts so well.

"Dinner!" Andre called out from the kitchen.

She sighed and left the bathroom.

The scent of the roast pork was accompanied by the delicious aroma of... fresh-baked bread?

She went down the hall and avoided walking through the tiny kitchen by walking through the living room to get to the table next to the window.

"You have classes tomorrow night, right?" Andre asked. She nodded. "You didn't update the calendar," he gestured to the fridge where they kept their schedule.

"Sorry. I'll do it after dinner. It smells amazing, by the way! You're going to make some lucky girl a wonderful househusband."

He glanced at her in confusion, but she just shook her hand with a gesture to say ignore her.

She sat in her customary place, and he set her plate down before her. Her mouth watered as the delicious smells reached her nose. The pork looked juicy and tender, as did the carrots and potatoes. Then he brought a basket of baguette pieces, fresh-cut and steaming. He brought out the butter for the bread and veggies. He poured her a glass of water and one for him.

She watched him with a smile as he finally sat across from her. "Above and beyond, Andre!"

He smiled at her, and she saw him relax a little with her compliment. They'd been living together for two years, and it worried her he still seemed to expect criticisms and cruel insults. The damage Gloria caused ran deep.

She turned to her plate and began eating. The roast was perfect, as were the veggies. She slathered some butter on the bread. The crust was crispy, yet the inside was so soft. "This is so good!" she sighed, and Andre smiled as he turned his attention to his own plate.

They enjoyed the meal in comfortable silence.

"Is there anything good to watch tonight?" she asked.

His face fell. "I forgot to look at the listings."

"It's cool! We'll look after dinner," she hurried to ease his mind.

He nodded and looked in the bowl for another piece of bread. Only the two end pieces remained. He glanced over at Cassandra, who was enjoying the last slice. He smiled and buttered one of the remaining pieces and popped it into his mouth. He took his plate and cutlery to the sink and quickly washed them.

When Cassandra pushed back from her plate, he looked at her to see if she was done. She nodded with a blissful smile, so he immediately collected her items and washed them as she wandered into the living room and dropped herself onto the couch with the TV remote. She flipped through the limited channels they had. The selection of shows was pretty slim. She finally settled on a crappy movie where young teens got into mischief as they tried to lose their virginity. She swore there must be thousands of similar films, and all were bad! But it was this, sports, news, or some religious channel with an old guy wailing about sinners going to hell.

As she waited for Andre to join her, she evaluated the actors' looks in the movie. The main male lead was attractive enough in a pleasant way. The female lead was a goddess disguising herself behind bad hair and thick-framed glasses. It was one of those right in front of your face stories.

"Anything good?" Andre asked as he sat next to her. He glanced at her curiously with an eager smile.

She snorted. "TV and good are mutually exclusive terms tonight. All we have is this teen comedy."

They sat together quietly, watching the high school seniors navigating their way through the warped reality of their final year in school.

Cassandra glanced over at Andre, and his eyes flicked to her. A wicked thought slipped into her head, and she grinned mischievously. She moved closer and gently pressed against his side. That felt good!

"So, is this how your senior year is progressing? Are the cheerleaders all chasing after you, trying to steal kisses in the hallways, pull you into the locker room?"

Andre's eyes widened as he shook his head vehemently.

She gave him a skeptical look. "Oh, come on! They must melt like butter when they eye this beefy body of yours!" She poked a finger against the thick, hard muscle of his chest. D-did it feel harder tonight? She trembled and struggled to hide her need.

Andre's eyes fluttered when she touched him, then he was looking at her with an intensity that sent tingles through her.

"No--no, they don't look at me like that. I sit next to some of them in my classes, and they don't talk to me. But I don't talk to them either," he admitted.

"You should talk to them! You should ask one out on a date!" she insisted, wanting her brother to find happiness, even as it evaded her.

He shook his head. "I can't. They have boyfriends. Besides, I don't think they like me," he replied.

Movie forgotten, Cassandra turned to face him on the couch, her legs pressing against his, and looked into his eyes with a troubled expression on her face. "How could they possibly not like you! You're a wonderful person! You're also so handsome, smart, and... built!" She bit her lip as she let her eyes drink in his powerful arms.

She wanted them wrapped around her, but that was wrong!

Wasn't it?

-=-