That damn look (Patreon)

“Wyatt,” Hank’s voice, a low rumble, cut through the quiet.

Wyatt froze, a deer in the sights. He turned, attempting a casual lean against the barn door, but the movement was stiff. “Afternoon, Mr. Hank.”

“Where you been? I had you on fence duty over by the south pasture.” Hank walked closer, his boots crunching on the gravel. He watched as Wyatt’s throat worked a swallow.

“Just… checkin’ on the new batch of Vita Boost, like you asked,” Wyatt said, but his eyes, usually a steady blue, darted towards the treeline. He offered a smile, a coy, innocent thing that didn’t reach his eyes. It was the look he gave when he’d dented the truck fender last spring.“I asked you to check the seals on the crates yesterday,” Hank said, stopping a few feet away. He crossed his arms, his own substantial biceps flexing unconsciously. “You look a little… flushed. Everything alright in there?”

“Yes, sir. Just a bit warm is all.” Wyatt tugged at his overall strap, and there it was the definition was unmistakable—a small, hard peak of muscle that hadn’t been there before.

Hank’s suspicion hardened into certainty. The temptation was written all over Wyatt’s suddenly-gained physique and guilty face."Boy, that's for the bulls! You tryin' to kill yourself?"Hank stepped forward, eyes wide. “I… I just took a little, Mr. Hank. A scoop. Just to see...He trailed off, finally meeting Hank’s eyes, his own wide with a mix of shame and a strange, hopeful pride. “Did it… did it work? I feel stronger.”

a wave of heat surging through him. His skin prickled, and he felt his shirt tightening across his chest. "Oh man," he murmured, flexing his fingers as a rush of energy coursed through his body. It was like every cell was waking up, hungry for more. He ran a hand over his new biceps, flexing them with glee.his body slowly growing.Hanks jaw dropped as he stared at Wyatts scrawny frame began to change. His shoulders broadened first, the strap of his overalls stretching taut. Muscles swelled beneath his skin, rippling like waves on a pond.Wyatts pecs expanded next, pushing against the denim of his overalls until the buttons strained. He tugged at one strap playfully, letting it slip off his now-massive shoulder. Sweat beaded on his tanned skin, making it glisten in the sun. His abs hardened into a six-pack, then an eight-pack, each ridge defined and powerful. "Fuck I wont have trouble with the feed bags anymore huh Mr Hank? He posed like a bodybuilder, enjoying the farmers' stunned silence. His legs thickened, thighs bulging until the overalls rode up, threatening to split at the seams. The calves in the pens stamped nervously, as if sensing the shift in the air.