Muscle Tony Goes Home 8-Where's Benji!

[banania7]

Tony woke early, restless and uneasy with a nagging sense of worry. He stretched his hard, muscled body, taking up the four corners of the bed, trying to shake the cobwebs from his mind. OMIGOD, he thought with alarm, I'm alone in bed---where's Benji?! The events of the previous night rushed back upon him and he scrambled out of bed hastily. 'Benji!' he called, tumbling down the hall naked, somehow desperately needing to know Benji's whereabouts.

He could smell breakfast cooking, and hear the sounds of activity, and he felt unaccountably relieved as he entered the room, still calling Benji's name, until he stopped short at the sight of his little brother. Benji was nowhere to be found, and Marcello, positioned with his back to the door, was at the stove, working away and whistling cheerily to himself. For a split second, Tony was struck by the incredible broadness of his brother's naked back; at 5'4" he was starting to appear almost as wide as he was tall--and his wide shoulders and miniscule waist only added to the freakish effect.

'Marcello, Tony said, Where's Benji---didn't you hear me calling for him?'

Marcello didn't even turn around, continuing his whistling as he piled freshly-made pancakes, sausage and eggs onto a plate.

Tony approached him, getting irritated, placing a firm hand on his brother's shoulder. 'Marcello--I'm talking to you; I asked you where Benji was. And since when did you whistle?'

Marcello turned, smiling cooly, seemingly unperturbed by his brother's tone. He took a moment to look up and down his brother's naked body, Tony realizing for the first time that he had no underwear on--his always impressive cock at half-mast. 'Oh, hi Tony, I guess you were in quite a hurry--you must be really hungry! I got up early to make breakfast for us. Sit down, I'll serve you.

Marcello started whistling again, and Tony suddenly remembered that it was something his dad used to do when they were little. They would be playing out in the backyard, and their father, Gio, would watch them, reading the paper and whistling softly to himself. It was a sound that Tony found absolutely infuriating in this moment.

Marcello was pointing to the chair and Tony stood stock still, trying not to blow his stack. 'Marcello, I'm going to ask you one last time---WHERE IS BENJI?! He wasn't there when I woke up and he's not here now--did something happen between you two last night?!'

Marcello stopped whistling, his placid grin trembling slightly. The kitchen was hot and perspiration moistened his torso, dripping from his bulging pecs. 'Tony, calm down--Benji's just fine---- he left earlier this morning, his dad came to pick him up. He told me to say goodbye to you--now you should eat, before everything gets cold.'

Tony looked at his brother's smug expression, wondering at this change in him. 'Well, all the same, I think I'll call him just to make sure he's alright.' He picked up the phone and started dialing Benji's number.

'JESUS, TONY, I said he was fine---what do you think, I fucking murdered him?!' Marcello spat out the words in a fury, pancake pieces flying everywhere. Visibly appearing to calm himself, he continued in a more neutral tone, 'Besides, they left on a family vacation, so you might as well hang up. They'll be back in 10 days.'

Suddenly, Tony did remember something about a family vacation they were set to go on. Still, he couldn't understand why Benji would leave without saying goodbye. He just knew it had something to do with Marcello--and as he looked at his brother's now impassive face --he felt anger boil again. He was torn between the desire to extract the truth forcefully, or punch his fists through a wall. Instead, he decided to sit down and eat, grabbing Marcello's plate and dumping everything onto his own. He would get to the bottom of things later.

'HEY!', Marcello protested, reaching his hand out to retrieve his food.

'GRRRROWWL!,' was Tony's response, acting like a ravenous beast, stuffing handfuls of food in his mouth. Marcello snatched his hand back--suddenly wary. 'I've got a big appetite this morning, little bro', so you should probably make more for yourself. But first--make another helping for me---NOW!' Marcello thought to comment, but instead shuffled back to the stove, not daring to test his brother in his present mood. The kitchen was silent except for the sounds of Tony eating, and the sizzling on the stove.

Later that day, though hardly relieved of the tension between them, the two brothers ran the two miles to the gym--after all, nothing would get in the way of a good workout. They were mostly silent, keeping up a steady pace in the afternoon heat, causing many an onlooker to stare longingly at the shirtless, musclebound duo. Tony started to notice a black sedan trailing them, though Marcello was oblivious, focusing more on keeping up with his brother's much longer stride with his own short, powerful legs. Tony kept monitoring the vehicle, noticing its presence at every turn. He took them down a side street, pacing comfortably as the car followed. Without warning, Tony grabbed a mail box, lifting it overhead, cement block and all, hurtling it javelin-style at the black sedan. The car hurtled off the road, screeching to a halt as it impacted a garbage bin. Marcello looked at his brother in shock, but followed close behind as Tony approached the car, his muscles bulging menacingly. Tony walked slowly and deliberately, his eyes locked on the driver's.

The driver was unhurt but in shock, desperately trying to flee from the car, but the passenger-side door was wedged shut by the mailbox--trapping him inside up against the garbage bin. Tony stalked around to his side, kicking the garbage bin aside with his powerful legs. He grabbed the driver through the window, pulling him by the throat. 'You tell my Dad to stop being such a coward and come face me himself! Otherwise, I'll have to keep beating up his little goons!'

He released the driver, traveling back around the other side. Reaching the mailbox, he picked it up with a small grunt, tossing it aside easily. He bent low, placing his hands underneath the car. 'MARCELLO, get over here and help me show this guy who he's MESSING with!' Marcello rushed to get beside him, mimicking Tony's position next to the car. Together the two brothers started lifting the car, pressing it upwards on its side, controlling it with their brute strength. They balanced it a moment, until, on Tony's cue, they toppled it over with a last savage burst of power. Finally, the two brothers celebrated together, hi-fiving each other, loving their shared moment of muscular dominance.

Marcello was elated, radiant even. 'TONY, THAT WAS FUCKIN' AWESOME!' he yelled. Tony smiled at him, giving him his moment. They both knew Tony could have done it himself--but it felt so special sharing that task--being united for the first time that day.

[imfit]

Great continuation of the story. I am concerned with what happened to Benji and what will happen when Tony finds out what Marcello has been up to.