I'll make a man out of you! [Berwald]

48...49...50!

Alfred jumped up from the floor with a small frown on his face. He always used to do 50 push-ups as a warm-up, but it didn't even feel a little bit straining anymore. He could have done 500 more and he wouldn't have broken a sweat. Or that was how it felt at least. He looked down at his hands in wonder. Super strength was bad ass and all, but he didn't want to get fat because he couldn't exhaust himself.

His expression turned horrified. What if his muscles didn't realize he was working out? Was he going to become fat again?! No, no, no, no! Alfred shook his head forcefully. He sure as hell wasn't becoming a loser again! Maybe he could try and turn it off...?

There was only one way to find out. He walked over to the barbells and started piling weights one one of them, some of the crazy muscular guys watching him with a smirk on their faces. He smirked right back at them. Heh, he would totally show them up. While he was busy having a staring contest with a particularly mean looking man, he reached for a weight and was surprised at how heavy it was. It was supposed to be only 22 lbs! He looked at the weight and found that another hand was grasping it as well. Oh, so that was it.

Berwald had decided to head to the gym during his day off. He didn't think he was currently unfit enough to use all the extra time he had to work out; infact, he was quite ripped, if he did say so himself, and it was mostly to spend his time productively. After doing warm-up exersizes and spending some time on the treadmill, he thought it was about time he moved onto some serious weight-lifting. He quite liked weight lifting, he could lift a decent amount of weights for someone of his strength and build.

Berwald thought that, perhaps he should start on the dumbbells before moving to the barbells and build up the weights slowly. There were only a few others near the weights as he started adjusting two of his own fit his prefrences. He thought that he'd pick up where he left off last time he was at the gym, with 22 lbs. Getting the correct weights onto one of the dumbbells, then one side of the other was no problem. But when he reached for the last weight- and it really was the last weight on the shelf -somebody had grabbed it too.

Berwald was reluctant to let it go, but if somebody else wanted it, he didn't want to cause a fight either. So instead he held onto it awkwardly, not really sure what to do. "Hrm... S'rry." Maybe he should let go, wasn't that the right thing to do after an apology? Berwald wasn't sure. Well... He didn't need to exersize with such heavy weights, did he?

He blinked at the man, his weird accent throwing him off a little. It was an accent, right? "No, it's okay, dude, you can take it." He already had more than enough piled on his own anyway. Alfred inspected the guy closely, the weird feeling that he knew him from somewhere appearing. They couldn't have been classmates, that guy was college student at youngest. He could have seen him here, but something told him that wasn't it.

"Hey, not to seem creepy or anything, but don't we live in the same house?" He had a sneaking suspicion that he had seen the guy there. He was pretty sure, actually, he just didn't know why he was so sure. His brain was so confusing.

Berwald slowly nodded and added the weight to the final side of the dumbbell, testing the weight a moment before starting to lift them slowly. He looked the other man up and down, thinking hard. "Y'look familiar...." He murmured, squinting and pushing his glasses further up his nose, as though that would help him see better. The boy was young, much younger than Berwald was, most likely by over five years. Perhaps he was even still in school, in which case there was little chance they'd meet. Berwald wasn't sure if he'd seen the boy before, actually, but now that he mentioned it...

"I live on th' top floor of th' Gr'cefield House, if y' know th't...?" Maybe they'd seen each other there, if that was where the boy lived... And while he was thinking of that, he hated calling the boy, well, just that- "The boy", in his head. He would rather know the other's name, at least he would know how to address him. He cleared his throat and stopped testing the weight of the dumbbells and put one down, holding out a hand. "'M B'rwald, and y'self?" If they didn't know each other already, now they could.

Alfred pouted down at the dumbbell in his hand, silently willing it to grow heavier. He could lift it all too easily. It would be nice for his power to turn off every once in a while. He could actually get some weight lifting done and, oh I don't know, tire himself out a bit?

He looked back at the guy he just talked to, nodding. "Dude, 'course I know it! I live on the top floor too! Wow, that's so freaking weird. I haven't seen you, like, ever! Do you use the elevator or the stairs?" Maybe they had been avoiding each other all this time? That would be so weird. Oh well.

He threw the dumbbell in his right hand into his left and shook the offered hand of his house mate enthusiastically. "I'm Alfred, but you can call me Al! Nice to meet 'cha!" And because no introduction was complete without at least one completely random question, "So, how old are you? I'm 17!" he asked one.

Berwald blinked. They lived that close? "I alw'ys take th'stairs. 's better ex'rsize," He explained as though feeling the need to justify himself. "D'y' just take th' lift?" The boy's - Alfred's apparently - handshake was pleasantly firm. Berwald liked a firm handshake, it showed confidence. Not that Alfred needed a firm handshake to prove how confident he was, he was practically bursting with the need to talk. "'S nice t'meet y', Alfred." He resumed lifting his weights, and glanced at the dumbbell Alfred had tossed with seeming ease from one hand to the other. That was impressive.

"J... Just 17, huh? 'M 25." Berwald shouldn't be as surprised as he was, now that he thought about it. Alfred looked 17, maybe a year or two older, but he still looked his age. But what surprised him was how much weight he could lift- He couldn't have been visiting the Gym so often that he had enough strength for such a thing, and that's what his smaller muscles said, but there he was, with an impossible amount of weights in just one hand. Perhaps...

Perhaps...

It was possible. Berwald had been noticing his own strange powers because of the lightning strike. Was it possible that... That Alfred got the same?

"Y'quite strong, for y' age."

"I take the stairs too!" He hated elevators. Nasty, smelly things they were. And they were too freaking small. He didn't have claustrophobia, but he never spent too much time locked up in small places if he could help it. He liked big, bright, open places. "I wouldn't take that stupid elevator if they made me."

He tilted his head at that question, a puzzled look on his face. "Yeah...you know, 17 isn't that young." He wasn't all that young! And 8 years was nothing. Berwald wasn't that much older. He continued lifting the weight absentmindedly, his muscles bulging like always. But it didn't feel as tiring as always. Not any longer.

He blinked at his new acquaintance."Yeah, I guess so." He knew so, duh. "I just come here a lot." Although he hated it, he knew telling people about his powers wouldn't be a smart move. He saw and read enough sci-fi to know that people wouldn't take kindly to it. He forced himself to laugh. "Years of football kinda helps too!"

"17 seems like young t' m'..." He mumbled. It felt like a long time ago he was 17. Berwald could still remember it. He spent most of his time studying and making his furniture.

Berwald nodded, silently accepting that answer. He didn't think much of the responce though. Was it his imagination, or did Alfred sound like he didn't believe himself? Maybe it was just his imagination. Berwald spent a few minutes going over the conversation in his head, lifting and lowering the weights automatically. A few minutes of silence went by and Berwald wasn't paying attention to Alfred any more. Neither, it seemed, was he paying attention to his weights, because a couple of times, he lifted his arm, then lowered it, only the weight didn't go with him, and hovered in the air where he'd left it. When that did happen, Berwald scrabbled to grab it and pretended nothing happened.

"It doesn't to me!" Well, duh. He was 17, how was it supposed to feel young to him? He had never been older than that!

He turned back to the silent man, opening his mouth to say something, and shut it quickly. What the...? "U-umm..." He took off his glasses and cleaned them a little, wondering if they were dirty and hiding some parts of the guy's hand. He could have sworn the weights were floating! He rubbed his eyes too, for good measure. He put his glasses back on and blinked at his companion, who now had the weights resting in his hands normally. That was weird. He didn't actually expect his glasses to be dirty. And he was kind of hoping that Berwald was the same as him. Well, not the same, but similar. It would have been nice.

Still, his nowadays overly active brain told him that it wasn't what it looked like. He had the feeling that his glasses weren't so dirty, after all.

Berwald glanced at Alfred. He seemed to be staring at Berwald in shock, which Berwald didn't like, then cleaned hid glasses. Berwaldclitched his weight nervously. Did he see anything? Did he maybe think Berwald was a weirdo now? Berwald slowly stopped lifting the weights, flexing his muscles all the while to keep them loose and stop them from siezing up before he could start up again. He was trying to work out a way to not-awkwardly bring up the hovering weight situation, and how scenarios would go, in his head.

'Hey, you know what you just saw? Yeah, that was all real. My weight was floating by itself. Well, I floated it.' No, the blunt method wouldn't really work...

'Do you believe in Super-Human abilities?' It was a weird start but it might work... But still, what would come after that? 'I do, because I have one.' There was the blunt tone again. That would surely make him freak out. Perhaps it would be best to just drop the topic? That was a thought, forget and move on.

(( I dunno if Alfred often uses his second power...? If not much, sorry for the wasted post orz ))

Hey, you know what you just saw? Yeah, that was all real.

Alfred snapped his head up. "I'm sorry, what?" Did he just say what he think he said? That the weight really was flying by itself? But how was that possible? He glanced down at his won biceps. Well, it wasn't like he hadn't experienced odd things happening himself...

Super-Human abilities...because I have one.

Berwald's voice was a it weird. Like an old, malfunctioning radio. He just stared at the tall man, his mouth agape slightly. "Y-you..." He had them too? Really? Was it possible? So Alfred wasn't alone in this? Wait...so his sudden strength was a superpower? He thought it was just...something else. But a superpower! That was too cool for words! "You aren't shitting me, right? Right?" He sure hoped not. Man, having superpowers and knowing another person with abilities...so awesome. So fucking awesome.

"Hn?" Berwald hadn't said anything. He wasn't sure if Alfred was paying proper attention to his surroundings and just thought Berwald had spoken- but then he spoke again and Berwald started to doubt himself. Alfred was stuttering? That made Berwald blink at him in surprise. "Hn? I'm n't, er, kidd'ng about what? I didn't... Say anyth'ng..." He scratched his head. "But." There was always a 'but'. And this but was a pretty important one. "But I w's think'ng... Y' spoke... When I w's think'ng... Like y' could hear m'... J'st a thought." And it was just a thought. But apparently that didn't matter if his suspicions were correct.

While he was staring at Alfred, he's stopped moving his weights and now his muscles were stiff and sore. Berwald had let them stay still too long, as well as holding the weights, so his muscles had started to hurt. He dropped the dumbbells and they fell to the floor, stopping before they hit it and lowering themselves down more gently.

They lowered themselves. The weights fucking hovered in the air before they put themselves down. Was it possible? Or was he high? Maybe his brain didn't have enough oxygen to function properly? But he wasn't feeling dizzy... He looked at Berwald's face, searching for something, he had no idea what, maybe a sign of joking, a smirk or something to tell Alfred that he was just somehow messing with his head. Wires, maybe?

But no, he knew there weren't any wires there. And what was that about him not speaking out loud? Of course the other blond spoke out loud, Alfred heard him loud and clear! The first time. The second was odd. "What are you talking about? I heard you saying you have a superpower!" Ooops. That was a bit louder than it was intended to be. He looked around warily, but it seemed no one had taken notice of them. They were probably used to both Alfred's loudness and randomness.

There was no way he was getting out of that one. Alfred had seen the weights fall gently, Berwald hadn't missed that. He massaged his stiff and aching arms with a scowl, wondering if he'd be able to bluff his way though it by not making any sense. But then Alfred had to go and say that? (Not to mention so loud, people might stare! Luckily, they didn't. Much to Berwald's relief). Berwald stared at him openly. "Hn..." Suspicion confirmed, might as well own up, he supposed. "I didn't. I thought 't. 'n' I'm guess'n' you have a sup'rpower too." It was a statement, not a question, because he was pretty sure that mind-reading counted as a super power. "Am I wrong?"

He had a superpower? Like, a superpower superpower? Like Superman? And Spiderman? And Green Lantern? And Captain America? Wait a moment, Captain America got his power from the government. Did they conduct some kind of experiment on Alfred without his consent? Not that he wouldn't have consented if they asked.

He was getting off topic. He shook his head slowly, his brain still a bit preoccupied with trying to make sense of all this. Strangely, it didn't feel straining at all, thinking about this, analyzing Berwald, and getting ready to talk at the same time. He felt like he could be reading a dissertation and still not be overwhelmed. He had no idea where that thought came from though. "No...no, you aren't wrong. I don't think you are."

Berwald didn't think he was wrong either. 'I know I'm right.' He thought with a nod, carefully hiding his non-moving mouth from Alfred to see if he could hear the thought and, moreover, be able to tell whether he was talking or thinking. He wondered if he should feel guilty about doing tests on Alfred without his realising it, but at least it wasn't anything bad. "So y'r power is Telep'thy? 'nd mine is..." What's the word? The power... Of... Making-things-move-when-nothing-was-moving-them? He scratched his head in thought.

Speaking of which, how long had Alfred known he had some sort of power? Berwald had known since... Well, since the morning after the memorable lightning-strike in the apartment block. But what about Alfred? Had he had his powers just as long?

I'm right.

Alfred frowned. The sound was weird again. "I just said you were. Why do you talk like...like an old radio or something? How do you do that?" He was so confused. He thought his superpower would be his strength. Was it possible to have more? ...Well, Superman had at least three too.

"Telepathy? What..." Reading thoughts. It meant reading thoughts, he suddenly realized. "But this is the first time this has happened!" And reading thoughts wouldn't explain his sudden bursts of random information. Nor did it explain the weird feeling in his head.

"Telekinesis. It's called telekinesis." Moving things without actually moving them or something like that. He groaned slightly, putting a hand on his forehead. "How did I know that?" was what he mumbled to himself, not intending Berwald to hear. "Since when can you do...that?" He pointed at the weights on the floor.

Berwald raised an eyebrow. "'m not say'n' anythin'. Y'r hearin' m' thoughts." Berwald was sure he'd already made that clear, but mentally waved it away. There were more important things than that. But it looked like he wouldn't have needed to explain anything anyway, there was perhaps the look of dawning comprehension on Alfred's face.

"Mmhm, T'lepathy." He paused and shrugged. First time it's happened? Well, it did look like the ability wasn't about to vanish any time soon. Perhaps he was lucky Berwald was the first person to experience it and not somebody who would react worse. "Hn, well... Y'd do well t' practice it b'fore y' really, I d'n't know, offend someone," He pointed out.

Oh- Telekinesis. That was the name of his power, Telekinesis. Berwald would have to remember that. He nodded. "Th't's the one. Been able t' do it f'r... 'Few days, maybe." It was true, he had first experienced it a few days ago in the apartment block. Dropped his toolbox by accident but they never hit the floor. "I d'n't know how t' do it m'self, but 's been triggered by fall'n' obj'cts."

"But how am I supposed to practice it? Walk up to people and ask them to think about something and then guess? Come on, they would think I'm a loony!" Which he might be, now that he though about it. Super strength was one thing, hearing things was an entirely different matter. Maybe Berwald was trolling him and just pretending to have thought all those things?

"Few days ago sounds about right, yeah." It was on the night of that storm when he first used it. He still needed a new bedside table, by the way.

He wondered what could be the trigger for his won powers. His strength just sort of came out of nowhere and rarely disappeared. It was harder to not use it. But this telepathy stuff... "Have you tried moving small stuff? I saw a series once where they had a chick with your powers and she could move smaller things after narrowing her eyes or doing" he made a slapping motion with his hand "this." It was Charmed, wasn't it? Alfred shook his head. Holy Hell, he wasn't watching girly series like that!

"Y' tell someone 'n' they'll help y' pract'ce," Berwald pointed out helpfully. "Or, y' become a psychic 'n' make m'ney while tryin' t' pract'ce y' power." It wouldn't be fraud like the rest, at least Alfred could actually read minds. People may be skeptical but how could anyone deny that Alfred had talent? "Or if y' pr'fer not t' publ'cize it, I und'rstand too." Berwald wouldn't want to do that, but that was probably because of his shy nature. And scary face.

"'Few days ago, huh...? B'th of us? Th't can't be coincid'nce, can 't?" Could it? Berwald developed telekinesis at the same time Alfred developed telepathy? Was it just them or everyone in the building? Or perhaps the whole city?! So many questions, no way to possibly answer them all. But at least he could try. "Y' think 't's j'st us?"

He hesitated, looking back at the few times he'd used telepathy. "'S... Stuff th't I could... M've with m' own arms. B't smaller. 'N' usually one at a time, unless I panic, l'ke just now." Berwald had no idea what Alfred was describing, he didn't watch many movies, or keep up with titles, so when Alfred found the name he was searching for, Berwald was at a loss. He shrugged. "I j'st do 't with m' mind. Physical gest'res d'n't help..." At least, he didn't think so.

"I can't really tell anyone. Asking someone to help me practice would be a bit crazy, wouldn't it?" Now that he thought about it though... "I have a brother! Mattie wouldn't think I'm crazy! And he would totally help me!" Chances were his brother was already used to his crazy antics and would help him just to stop his whining. And no one could resist Alfred's kicked puppy expression.

"Pffff, psychics are lame. And really, why would anyone pay to have their mind read? It's supposed to be a private place, right?" Alfred sure as hell didn't want anyone anywhere near his brain. He nodded. "Yeah, I don't really wanna let everyone know." His strength, though, was another thing entirely. Showing that off would be fun. Maybe he could arrive one morning with a car on his shoulder? Would that be over the top?

Coincidence? "Hmmm, I dunno. I dun think so. I used my strength on the night of that weird storm for the first time. Maybe there is some kind of toxic waste in our water and the whole building was infected and our chromosomes mutated and that's why we have powers?" That would be epic. A house full of superpowers. Like Justice League. Or Teen Titans.

He nodded again. "Panic always triggers superpowers. It's like that in every single movie. And book. Anger helps too." And his strength was the exception that proved the rule. It switched on on its own and never really stopped, save for those few times when it didn't work for about half a minute. "Physicality doesn't help? Sorry, bad advice then." Damn you Charmed. Liar.

Berwald nodded slightly. "Y' should ask y'r broth'r then. 's a good idea." Letting everyone know was not a smart move, Berwald himself had decided that he didn't want anyone to know of his telekinesis. Not that that had been going well- he'd already slipped up twice now.

While Alfred theorised, Berwald decided that he'd been standing there without using the equipment long enough. So he gestured towards the bench, indicating that he wanted Alfred to follow him there to sit for a while. "P'rhaps ev'ryone in th' world has pow'rs but no one wants t' tell anyone else?" That was most unlikely. Then again, so was gaining superpowers. Who knew what the world was capable of now?

"I think I h've anoth'r power... I d'n't know, though. I j'st sort 'f feel it," He explained. There was some sort of feeling there. A power sitting in the back of his brain. Maybe Alfred would understand.

(( Sorry for the crappy reply! But I just watched Mulan and was inspired to reply 8D; ))

He nodded. "Yeah, I tots should. Worst that could happen is that he'll think I'm on a sugar high." That totally only happened once and it wasn't that bad really.

Alfred nodded at Berwald again and popped down on the bench. He raised an eyebrow. "Nuh-uh, no way! People can barely keep their hit list a secret, I'm pretty sure someone would have bragged about their super abilities by now." He didn't want to keep quiet about it either and he was smarter than the average person. Much smarter or so it seemed nowadays.

"Yeah, I can see where you're coming from." He could feel it too. How school and homework was even easier than it used to be, how he could suddenly remember random details, like the color of that punk girl's underwear poking out of her pants. "You should try to trigger it or something."