Last year I posted the first couple of hundred words of a story I was working on called "Dan and Jake". I've been working on the story for the past few months and it's finally finished and ready to be shared.
The story follows Dan "The Man" Murray and Jake "The Shredinator" Adams; two of Britain's biggest and most popular young bodybuilders who have their own YouTube vlog (they've been dubbed "the beefiest vloggers on the net"), where they regularly hold things like "posing trunk challenges" (who can find the best pair of posers)!
The lads are about to step on stage at the biggest show in Britain to compete in the juniour class for the third year running. Jake just has one teenie tiny problem to overcome…
Thank you to Anthony Chia-Bradley for letting me use some of his shots for the below design (my first attempt at designing something in Photoshop)!
Part 2 coming soon!
DAN AND JAKE (PART 1)
The church is absolutely packed, and as the organ man starts to play, I begin to walk down the aisle. I turn to the man to the right, clutching my arm. Good old pops. He looks genuinely choked up.
Everyone is looking at me all doughy eyed. Granny Adams is dabbing her eyes with a tissue. Auntie Mavis is nudging uncle Boris and signalling to my outfit. Both of them now staring at it in admiration.
I look down to admire it myself. A black dickie bow around my neck, a pair of smart black boots and, completing the outfit, a pair of bright red posing trunks. As shiny as you can imagine.
The red trunk coloured bulge is looking up at me. So are my abs. In all their thick, wonky shaped, and phenomenally peeled glory. Six crazily developed bumps bursting through my tummy to remind me that I'm a freakishly shredded, excessively developed muscle boy who loves nothing more than to strut around a bodybuilding stage, flexing and squeezing his superhuman sized mass for all the world to see. My slabby, beautifully carved out muscle tits, and the rest of my huge, bronzed, vein plastered body are obvious reminders too.
What is the organ man playing? I know the song but I can't quite get the name. It’s only when I get to the front of the church that it suddenly hits me. It’s a ballad organ rendition of The Prodigy's "Smack My Bitch Up".
A large, stocky man is standing in front of me smiling. He’s wearing one of the t-shirts from my website; black with the words "BROTHERS IN BEEF" printed on it, and around his neck is a dog collar. I recognise him instantly. It’s the commentator and host from a dozen of my previous bodybuilding shows. I'm pretty sure his name is Bob.
"Friends, relatives, muscleheads," Bob begins in his thick Yorkshire accent. "We're here today to witness the union between two of Britain's biggest and most popular young bodybuilders."
I take a sneaky glance at the man standing next to me. It would only be one person. Could only be one person.
"Yo, dude," he quietly says, with his fist held out for me to discreetly bump. I oblige, obviously, and just catch a quick glance of the bow tie around his neck, exactly like mine, and the big blocks of abdominal muscle popping through his stomach. Also exactly like mine.
Bob carries on the sermon for a number of minutes, and then it’s time for the vows.
"Do you, Jake "The Shredinator" Adams, take Dan "The Man" Murray to be your lawfully wedded muscle freak?"
"FUCK YES!" I exclaim, and everyone roars with laughter. "Oooops. Sorry," I sheepishly add. "I mean, I do."
And with those two words, my heart swells. I do, I do, I do.
"I now pronounce you, pumped up, shredded to buggery muscle freak and, well...pumped up, shredded to buggery muscle freak."
I can't wipe the grin off my face. He's mine. Dan The Man is finally mine.
"You may now squeeze a head to head crab most muscular."
"HELL YEAH!" Dan exclaims.
I turn to face my new hubbie, matching bow tie, black boots, shiny red posers and all. A huge, cheeky grin plastered across his face, as utterly gorgeous as ever. The face that plays a big contribution to him being one half of the two most popular and well loved bodybuilders in Britain.
"Let's do this, mate!" Dan says.
I grin wildly and nod as I bend forward and lift both arms so they're level with my shoulder blades. Bob wants a head to head crab most muscular and that's what he's gonna get.
"SQUEEEEZE IT LADS!" shouts Bob.
And squeeze it we do. With my forehead pressed up against Dan's, we both bring our arms down and blast out matching crab most musculars, while aggressively shouting in unison.
Dan "The Man" Murray. My lifelong muscle buddie. Best friend. Vlogging partner. Brother in beef. Fellow shredded muscle freak. Love of my life. And now my husband.
Our heads are still locked. Our teeth now gritted.
Faces scrunched to buggery. Intensely and affectionately looking into each other's eyes.
"Dude! Wake up!"
Every muscle squeezed and bursting through our paper thin skin. Shiny red posers barely able to contain our bulges.
"JAKE. DUDE. WAKE. UP!"
Ugh. What’s going on?! Fuck. I feel dazed. Disorientated.
"What the fuck were you dreaming about?"
The church has gone, and I'm in a strange bed instead. A hotel bed. The curtains are open. Ugh. Why is it so fucking bright?
But there's one saving grace. I feel typically giddy and a sense of warmth washes over me as I see Dan's face, just as handsome first thing in the morning as it always is. He has a bad case of bed head. Ruffled and un-styled. He's never looked more adorable.
He's lying next to me in the double bed of the hotel room, still wearing the white vest he went to bed in last night. His arms have never looked more pumped and his delts look fucking ridiculously. His whole upper body looks like it's ready to burst.
"Dude, you were saying my name in your sleep!" Dan says.
"Oh," I reply, my cheeks suddenly burning up and my pulse quickening.
"Ummm...I think I was dreaming about the show," I say.
"Did I kick your arse for the third year running?" he cheekily asks with a grin.
"Actually I kicked your arse," I playfully retort, knowing full well that the chance of that particular scenario occurring is extremely slim.
"You must have been dreaming, dude," he replies.
Not yet fully woken up, I smile and dreamily gaze at my best friend and fellow bodybuilding musclehead from my pillow. I want nothing more than to stay in this hotel bed with him. For us to spend all day under the sheets, exploring and worshipping each other's indecently muscular bodies.
Feeling each other's huge, pumped biceps, squeezing each other's thick, balloon-esque pecs, exploring the deep lines separating each of our shredded blocks of ab muscle and rubbing our huge freaky quads together. Making each other cum over and over until we finally collapse and I fall asleep with my arm wrapped around his crazy midsection and my head buried deep into the thick cushion which makes up one of his ridiculously developed pecs.
Unfortunately, we have the juniour class of Britain's biggest bodybuilding show to compete in, which Dan will no doubt champion in for the third year running, leaving me to, once again, settle for second place.
Not that Dan’s physique is miles ahead of mine in terms of quality. In fact, I'm guaranteed to always be better conditioned than him. Better than any lad in my class in fact. After all, I didn't get the nickname "The Shredinator" for nothing. Razor sharp cuts, dick thin skin, freaky veins (even on my abs!) and a full on bonkers Christmas tree will all be making their usual stage appearance today.
And I'm not exactly lacking in size either. My pecs look like two pumpkins bulging off my chest, my quads get thicker with every passing show and my shoulders were replaced with two, huge, perfectly round boulders many moons ago. Oh and speaking of moons, my bum is huge. Like, seriously fucking enormous. There's not a pair of posing trunks in the world big enough to cover up the whole of my ridiculously huge rump.
But I have one major drawback. I'm 5' 5” tall. So while my quads may be more shredded than Dan’s, the lines in my abs deeper, and my bum most certainly bigger, it's hard to compete with a brilliantly conditioned, mass packed bodybuilder who has an extra seven inches in height and thirty five pounds in weight than you do.
"Dude, I can't wait to see your posing trunks," Dan excitedly says. "I'm pretty sure I'm gonna kick your arse in that contest too."
"Hmmmm. I wouldn't be too cocky just yet," I playfully tease, picturing the utterly brilliant posers hidden in my holdall.
"Shall we shower and then do the vid?" Dan asks. He looks like an excitable puppy, with the big brown eyes to match. I love how excited Dan gets about filming episodes of our "Dan and Jake: Brothers In Beef" vlog, although on this occasion I have to admit, I’m pretty excited myself.
Dan came up with an idea to hold a "Posing Trunk Challenge" a few months ago. The goal was for each of us to find the best pair of posers for the competition. We'd both reveal our trunks in a vlog episode the morning of the show, and it was up to our viewers to decide which of the two of us had won the challenge.
Dan was always slightly more adventurous with his posing trunks than I was, and I was sure whatever crazy pair he'd found would win him the challenge, but I was still really pleased with the pair I'd chosen. I was pretty sure Dan would love them too. I couldn't wait to see the look of approval on his impossibly handsome face when he saw them clinging to my excessively sized arse for the first time.
Dan throws back the duvet and jumps out of bed and my heart sinks in response. Stood up, Dan looks absolutely monstrous. He's ten pounds heavier than last years competition - and boy does it show. His brutal upper body is exploding with mass, not least of all with those obscenely pumped arms of his. The judges may as well just save everyone the hassle and hand him the first place juniour class trophy now.
Still looking up at him from my pillow, Dan peels, with comical difficulty, his white vest up his torso and over his head. His now revealed incredible abs are blistering through his stomach.
Where my abs are wonky shaped and haphazardly spread across my midsection, Dan's stomach is perfectly symmetrical. Six beautifully shaped abs cleanly separated by almost straight lines. A perfect midsection to match his perfectly pumped pecs, and every single perfect feature on his boyish, yet masculine, and almost sickeningly handsome face.
If I wasn't completely and madly in love with him, I'd probably be extremely envious of Dan "The Man" Murray. He'll always have more Twitter followers, his Instagram posts will always get more likes, he'll always have more muscle loving gay guys lusting over him, he'll always be the "hot one" and I'll always be the "cute one", he'll always be the monster and I'll always be the pocket rocket and he'll always walk away with a bigger and better trophy than I will. Still, at least I'll always have the bigger arse.
"Just wait until you see my trunks, dude," Dan enthusiastically says, grinning wildly, as he pulls out a towel from his bag.
"Are you more excited about the show or the posing trunk challenge?" I teasingly ask.
He laughs and cheekily responds. "What can I say, dude? I just really like kicking your arse."
Fifteen minutes later and a freshly showered Dan has re-emerged, just as outrageously huge and devastatingly handsome as always. His pecs are doing nothing to tame the swelling bulge in my undies under the bed sheets. "Dude, we’d better hurry up. We need enough time to go to the tanning tents backstage. Plus I want to get a good half an hour of pumping up before we hit the stage".
I dutifully obey my best friend and jump into the shower. About half an hour later, I'm back in the en suite bathroom putting on my new pair of posing trunks, then hiding them under a pair of shorts in preparation for the posing trunk challenge, in our newest episode of our "Dan and Jake: Brothers In Beef" vlog.
The vlog was all Dan's doing. About a year ago, when we were still in fairly decent condition from competing, Dan had a completely bonkers idea. He thought it would be fun if we painted each other's entire bodies green, put on purple shorts like The Hulk wears, go into our local town centre, start flexing and posing in the middle of the street and catch everyone's reactions on camera.
I thought he was joking until he turned up on my doorstep with two big tubs of bright green body paint.
I was a little embarrassed at first, and slightly scared that we might get arrested, but once people started crowding round us, coming up to us to shake our hands, chat to us and have their pictures taken, I actually started to really enjoy it.
Of course Dan loved it from the second we stepped out of the car, but then Dan just adores any kind of attention his muscles bring him.
The video was as equally popular when posted online. "You guys should have your own YouTube channel and start a vlog", suggested one follower in the comments section. And so we did. And now, a year and thousands of followers later we've been dubbed the Internet's beefiest vloggers. Dan and Jake; the only bodybuilding vlogging duo in the world.
Of course we've attracted criticism too. Most of it from straight, fellow bodybuilders not impressed or amused by our laddish and quite often bonkers antics. Though most of it seems to be directed at Dan. Whether they see him as the ringleader, or whether there's a certain amount of hidden jealousy at play, I'm not really sure.
"What's the British version of a douchebag? Surely it would be Dan Murray."
"Dan The Man? More like Dan The Twat."
"Jake needs to ditch that idiot Dan and get serious about bodybuilding. He's young and his physique is insane. He could be a future pro 212 class bodybuilder, but his bromance with Dan and this Brothers In Beef shit is doing nothing for his reputation."
Those are just a few negative comments which comes to mind. The last one particularly stuck in my head. And, of course, the very notion that I would "ditch" Dan is completely ridiculous. Dan is my best friend and always will be. I wouldn't be anything but loyal towards him.
"Right, mate, we're all set," Dan says as he positions his digital camera on the hotel room desk. Filming of our latest vlog episode is about to begin.
To be continued…