Muscle Lads, Inc.

[muscleaddict]

On 7/3/2023 at 8:05 PM, DennisFLL said:

Yes, I would love reading a spin-off story about your amazing character, Noah, a few years after we left off.  But his boyfriend has to still be AJ, of course.  

I think there would probably be riots if I ever split AJ and Noah up.

[muscleaddict]

On 7/4/2023 at 1:42 AM, BigManZach55 said:

This is great writing. The detail you go into creates a visual as to what you are describing. Please keep going and finish this story when appropriate. So many good stories here do not bring everything to a conclusion. 

Thank you, mate - I appreciate that. The whole story is written save for some tweaking and editing so you don't have to worry about me not finishing it. 

[muscleaddict]

On 7/4/2023 at 2:42 PM, MaritimeMuscle said:

I’m trying to picture Curtis in his yellow jumper?   Is he frumpy?  Is he good looking? Does he have some muscle too hidden under that woolie jumper?

Definitely good looking! In an understated/modest way. I'd say he's slim to average built. 

[muscleaddict]

4 hours ago, Mdlftr said:

I loved the London posing session and the meet up between Alfie and Curtis.

I kept perseverating on "yellow woolly jumper" - What IS that?

I completely forgot you guys call them sweaters. But yeah - something a bit like this. 

[Louis24689383]

Curtis sounds like an anorak

[muscleaddict]

21 hours ago, Louis24689383 said:

Curtis sounds like an anorak

I would more go with "a little bit nerdy but confident, socially able and obviously very sweet"! 

[Louis24689383]

Obviously, it was a bit of a play on words due to his wooly jumper 

[muscleaddict]

NINE

NICK

I can’t stop thinking about Mason the Hot Muscle Daddy. It’s not just the fact that about twenty-four hours ago I was cumming inside him while squeezing onto his flexed biceps as he let out the sexiest growls. It’s everything about what happened yesterday.

The fact that he texted me out of the blue while I was still at work asking me (no - telling me!) to go round to his that very second because he wanted me to fuck him. The urgent texts telling me he needed my dick in him. The chemistry between us. The electricity. The posing. The flexed biceps. The thick balloon pecs. The kissing. Even afterwards when I was just lying in his bed and we were talking. Even that was awesome. Oh - and the fact that he made me cum another two times after I fucked him! 

I’ve been on such a high all day thinking about it. Even Aaron at work didn’t really annoy me that much today. And I’m not stressing about whether I’m going to see Mason again or if he’s going to text me back this time. Because he already has!

About ten minutes after I left his flat last night, he thanked me for coming around, called me “sexy boy” and told me he couldn’t wait for me to fuck him again. And I’m not gonna stress about when that will be either. I’m confident it’s going to happen. That Mason the Hot Muscle Daddy will want to see me again.

I drop my Xbox controller on my bed and head out to use the bathroom. When I hear the front door open and close, I feel weirdly nervous. I’ve been kind of anxious to see Alfie again after things were weird between us yesterday morning. I don’t really feel pissed off at him anymore. More than anything, I kind of just want to make things right between us. For things to just go back to the way they were before we all went out on Saturday night.

I pause at the bathroom door, trying to listen for sounds to gauge whether Alfie has come home from his trip to Manchester. But I can’t hear anything. I brace myself and open the door. But what I see instead of Alfie completely takes me back. Danny King is standing in the hallway looking like an absolute unit in his black Panthers Gym hoodie and black joggers with his backpack over one of his ridiculous sized shoulders. He’s standing at the open door to my bedroom and peering inside the room. What the fuck?

When he turns and spots me, he doesn’t look caught out or embarrassed in the slightest. In fact, his mouth curls into a smirk. “Is that the music for CRASH?”

“Ummm. Yeah!” I say, walking up to him. 

“That’s, like, my all-time favourite Xbox game.”

He’s had a haircut. His sides are freshly shaved and the top and front of his hair are shorter than normal. Jesus. He looks even hotter than usual. I wonder what it would be like to be THAT fucking sexy? More than anything - I can’t help thinking how much fun I’d have.

“Got an extra controller?” he asks, peering into my room again. When he looks back at me, I can’t help noticing a slight flash of something. Not so much nerves. More - uncertainty. Maybe Danny King cares more about what I think of him than I thought. I mean - we don’t really know each other that well, after all.

“Erm. Yeah, actually. Wanna game?”

I feel a sharp pinch in my chest at what’s unfolding. 

“Yeah!” Danny replies, pulling a face like the answer is obvious. “Just give me five minutes,” he adds, drifting off down the hall.

I head into my room, my chest expanding. I've got the biggest fucking smile on my face. (I need to get rid of that before he comes back!) Because I’m actually about to hang out with Danny King! I definitely didn’t expect this turn of events. Even though we’re flatmates, I still didn’t think this would ever happen. That we’d be hanging out in my bedroom playing one of my favourite games (and apparently Danny's favourite game) on my Xbox. Especially because I was convinced he didn’t actually like me when I first moved in.

As I sit here on my bed waiting for him to come back into my room, I feel … stupidly nervous. He’s taking so long that I’m starting to think he might have changed his mind. Until … my door creaks open and in walks Danny King possibly looking even sexier than he has in the week and a half since we’ve lived together. 

I don't know what I’m more taken aback by. The fact that he’s taken his Panthers Gym hoodie off and he’s now wearing just a tight white t-shirt which his bare freshly pumped arms are bulging out of or the fact that he’s wearing black framed glasses. Which somehow makes Danny King look even hotter. I guess I’ve always had a thing for bodybuilders in specs. I just never would have guessed Danny King wore them.

“I hope you know I’m about to kick your arse!” he teases as he crashes down on my bed. Danny King is on my bed!

I hand him my extra controller, my insides still tight with nerves. We make eye contact. He's giving me a sort of part-excited, part-awkward smile and my chest does something funny. Jesus.

I smile back at him, and as I turn to face my TV, I’m finding it really hard to get rid of that smile. Because ridiculously hot Danny King is right there. Sitting next to me on my bed. In his black joggers. And his white socks which are slightly black and dirty at the bottom. His big fucking arms bulging out of that white t-shirt of his. Freshly pumped from Panthers Gym. Three weeks out from being flexed on stage at the Tiger Classic North West. It’s like he’s radiating this hotness from his body. He even fucking smells great! 

“Didn’t know your wore glasses,” I say, looking directly at my TV and not at him. I instantly regret it. Was that a weird thing to say? Should I really be thinking about whether or not my straight flatmate wears glasses, let alone fucking mention it to him?

“I’m blind as shit, mate! I usually wear contacts.”

I nod and don't say anything back. But now I'm thinking - what would Danny King look like wearing those specs on stage? Bronzed up in those ultra shiny wet look black tunks he always wears when he competes?

“Is that pillow going spare?” he asks.

“Ummm. Yeah,” I say, looking at the one pillow that's not propped up behind my back and handing it to Danny. I have no idea whether my face is showing any of what I’m feeling as ridiculously hot Danny King copies me in propping up my pillow behind his back for comfort.

I just … can not believe how huge his arms look right now. I can not believe those arms are THIS close to mine.

“Is Alfie not back from London yet?” he asks me as I switch the game to two-player mode.

“Ummm. I don’t think so,” I reply as Danny selects his character. “Did you, erm, see that video he posted on Instagram last night?” I ask, feeling weirdly nervous.

“Yeees!” he groans disapprovingly. I look over and can't but help smile when I see the look of disapproval on his face. Alfie posted a sort of follow-up video to the one from two weeks ago where he posed in the street wearing only his shiny orange trunks last night. Only this one was in Trafalgar Square with Nelson’s Column in the background with just his top off. God knows who he persuaded to film it. I’m presuming one of the guys from his sponsor, Got Shredz Nutrition.

“You know he tried to rope ME into doing one of those videos?” Danny tells me.

I smile and bite my lip. FYI, Danny King is predictably excellent at playing CRASH.

“So … be warned!”

I smile at the flattery of the suggestion that Alfie would deem ME worthy of starring in such a video.

“Mmmm. Yeah. Don’t think that would get as many views,” I say, keeping my eye on the TV. Is that me being too down on myself?

“How many comps have you done?” Danny asks. I tell him two.

“You’re just a newbie, mate. You should jump into the Tiger North West!” he jokes. Well - I presume he’s joking. Although, on second thoughts, I’m pretty sure that Mason the Hot Muscle Daddy wasn’t joking when he suggested that very same thing to me last night.

“Or ditch The Muscle Factory and come to Panthers!”

I look over at him and sheepishly smile. I presume that’s a joke too. And yet - there’s obviously something about that idea which massively appeals to me. Training at hardcore hellhole dungeon gym Panthers alongside Danny King and Mason. Maybe after training, I can fuck a pumped up, sweaty Mason in the changing room toilets as I squeeze his freshly pumped balloon pecs and sink my face into his sweaty back.

“Have you ever thought about doing classic physique?”

“Erm … not really!” I reply. 

“You should. I think you’ve got the right build for it.”

I bite my lip, feeling a twist in my stomach. I know Danny King isn’t saying this as an insult, but I still can’t help the feeling that it is.

“Or have you got your heart set on being a monster?”

I look over and Danny gives me a teasing smile. “I guess … I dunno, because I’ve always looked up to bodybuilders. That's, like … the ideal. I guess.”

“I get that," Danny says, nodding earnestly. "There’s nothing stopping you from doing both though. The line is kind of blurring between classic physique guys and bodybuilders now anyway. Classic physique guys are getting bigger. The trunks are getting smaller and looking more like regular posing trunks. They’ll be making them bright pink next. You’ll be set, mate.”

I smile and bite my lip. I think I might be blushing too. Then practically jump when Danny playfully knocks my elbow with his. I look over. He’s got his eye on the TV screen, but he’s got an almost warm, cheeky grin on his face. I can’t believe Danny just nudged my arm with his. After making a teasing reference to the fact I wear shiny pink trunks. We just made contact. Fuck!

“There are a couple of classic guys I really like, actually,” I tell him. “Do you know Shaun Hudson?”

“Is that the blonde guy from Mongomery?”

“Yeah. He just won his first pro show and qualified for the Mr O.”

“There you go, mate! You could be a Shaun Hudson. Just … in specs. And shiny pink classic physique trunks.”

I grin and carry on playing the game. I actually can’t believe how easy it is to talk to Danny King. Especially after our first few encounters. I can’t believe how comfortable this is. Sitting here next to Danny on my bed playing CRASH as we chat about bodybuilding and he teases me about my choice of trunks.

Then I hear something which pulls me out of my thoughts and my stomach suddenly clenches. The sound of the front door opening and closing. And before I know it, Alfie Winters is standing in the doorway of my room. I look up to see him looking at the scene before him in utter bewilderment. He looks so cute in his blue Muscle Factory hoodie and black North Face gilet.

“Ummm … have I slipped into some kind of Twilight Zone?” he asks.

“Huh?” Danny asks, screwing up his face and not taking his eyes off the screen.

Me and Alfie make eye contact. We share a little smile, and for the moment, it feels like things are back to normal.

“Since when have you two hung out in each other’s bedrooms?”

“Since about twenty minutes ago,” Danny replies casually, still not taking his eyes off the screen.

“Wow. I go away for one night and I’ve already been replaced as Nick’s favourite flatmate.”

My chest expands with those words. I love the fact that Alfie has put thought into this. That he thinks of himself as being my favourite flatmate. I smile at him again and he gives me a knowing smile back. 

“What are you banging on about?” Danny says. “Now close the door. This is a midget-free zone.”

I let out a little laugh and bite my lip. Alfie raises an eyebrow at me and gives me a cheeky smirk. “I know when I’m not wanted,” he says, closing my bedroom door.

Danny shakes his head to himself once Alfie's gone. “Drama queen,” he mutters.

I can’t help feeling happy about what just happened. I kind of love Alfie's pretend teasing and jokey comments about Danny replacing him as my “favourite roommate.” Like … that’s something he actually cares about. Something that would actually bother him!

I feel a surge of bravery. “Was he all right on Saturday night? After, you know ... you guys left?”

Danny wrinkles his nose. “Mmmm. Not sure,” he says, in a cautious tone.

I turn away from Danny and swallow. “Do you think he knew? About his dad?” I ask, feeling weirdly nervous. 

“Mmmm. He SAID he did!” Danny replies. Then he gives me this knowing look that tells me he’s not convinced. That he has the same suspicions that I do. That Alfie had no idea his dad performed as a drag queen called Ms Vera Monsoon until he saw him in full drag performing on stage on Saturday night in a gay bar. God - maybe he didn’t even know that his dad was gay. To be fair to Alfie, I’m not really sure how I’d react to that news myself. And finding out the way he did. 

“Do you go to that bar a lot?” Danny asks.

Oh shit. I instantly tense up the question. I don't know if I'm imagining it, but the tone of Danny's voice when he asked me that sounded a bit ... odd. Like, not as relaxed as normally is.

“Erm. No. Not a lot," I say, not taking my eyes off the screen. I feel so nervous all of a sudden "I’ve been there before though. With Liv.”

There’s a pause. And then … “That’s cool,” Danny says, casually.

I can’t look at him right now. I’m focused on the TV screen. I can’t believe that just happened. That Danny just asked me that question. Does Danny King suspect I’m gay? Was that his way of casually telling me he knows I’m gay and he’s completely okay with it?

“Can we pause it? Need a piss!” Danny says. I oblige and he lifts himself off the bed. I sit there watching him exit my bedroom. His thick arse nestled into his black joggers. That impossibly small waist. The back of his meaty upper arms bulging around the material of his white t-shit which is also stretched by his incredible lats. So. So. Fucking. Sexy!

I look at my nearly empty pint glass of water and leap off the bed. I don’t realise that Alfie is also in the kitchen until I walk in. 

“Oh. All right?”

He nods. “Yeah. You?”

I bite my lip and nod. Things still feel a little awkward. But not half as much as they were when we ran into each other yesterday morning.

“Looks like you and Danny are getting on better!” Alfie says, his face relaxing into a smile.

“Mmmm,” I say, biting my lip and feeling sheepish. “How was London?”

“Ummm. Yeah. It was … really good, actually!” he says, his mouth curling into an ominous smile. 

“Saw your Instagram video,” I tell him. He mischievously grins in response.

“Who filmed it?”

Something weird flickers across Alfie's face. “Erm … just some random guy.”

I nod, getting a sense that he doesn’t want to be questioned further. “Cool.”

And now things feel kind of awkward again. 

“I, erm … better get back.”

“To your new favourite flatmate!” he says, with a teasing grin.

A voice in my head wants to assure him that’s not the case. But he’s clearly joking.

Okay - so that went kind of … okay. I guess? Maybe with a little bit more time things will get back to normal.

I go back to my empty room with CRASH paused on my TV screen. I look at the pillow propped up against the wall, now squashed after having two hundred-plus pounds of Mancunian muscle pressed against it and can’t help smiling to myself again at the absurdity of what’s happening. Will that pillow smell of Danny King now that he’s been leaning against it?

I’m pulled from my thoughts by the image of my flatmate walking back into my bedroom (as sexy as fucking ever) and closing the door behind him. With a loud sigh, he flops down on my bed to the sound of a big cracking noise. I feel a sharp panic and Danny looks at me in wide-eyed shock.

“Oh shit!” he exclaims, now looking panicked.

“Did you just … break my bed?”

Danny chews on his bottom lip as his mouth curls into a smile. A shocked laugh escapes my lips before I can stop it. We both leap off the bed and Danny lifts up one corner of my mattress to reveal my wooden bed frame.

“Oh shit! It’s that bit there, look,” he says, pointing. One small part of one of the wooden panels has cracked towards the end of the bad. It’s not that bad, to be fair.

“Awww, mate. That’s your deposit from the landlord gone,” Danny says.

My mouth drops open. He gives me a big grin to let me know he’s joking.

“Leave it with me. I’ll sort it.”

Danny sits carefully and slowly back on my bed with an eek face. Both of us are grinning wildly. I feel like I'm on a sort of giddy high from what just happened. Like this is something me and Danny might talk and laugh about in years to come (if we're still friends then). That time he broke my bed just from fucking sitting down on it with just a little too much force.

“I can’t believe you broke my bed!” I tease, unpausing the game.

Danny lets out a laugh. “That’s what you get when you live with bodybuilders! Should’ve moved in with Shaun Hudson.”

We lock eyes and giddily grin at each other. Me and Danny King. Ridiculously hot Danny King with his specs that make him even sexier than usual and his Panthers Gym-pumped arms that have never looked fucking bigger who just broke my bed because he’s such a monster. Who I’m sharing an actual fucking moment with. Who I actually might be becoming friends with.

I’m pretty much on a high from hanging out with Danny for the rest of the evening and the next day at work. It’s actually ridiculous how excited I feel when I get a text message from an unknown number when I’m sitting at my desk updating the social media channels for a client of the agency's.

Hi Nick. It’s Danny. Your bed is sorted.

Danny King has my phone number (I'm presuming Alfie gave it to him). Danny King is texting me! Stupidly hot Danny King with his massive arms and thick pecs and little roid tummy and humungous arse and rough around the edges but still handsome and oh-so-laddish looks, complete with the weirdly sexy gap in his two front teeth.

I agonise for a stupid amount of time over what to text back before finally settling on:

Hi Danny! Thanks! How did you do it?

As soon I send it I cringe and groan at all the exclamation marks and tongue out winking emoji. WHY did I have to send an emoji?

I swapped the bed frame with mine. They’re exactly the same. Some roided midget helped me. 

I chuckle out loud and the girl opposite me gives me a weird look. I stare at the message feeling sort of warm and happy. Over the fact that Danny did that. That he went through the effort of switching my bed frame with his because of a little crack towards the end of it. I text him back saying thanks and that he didn’t have to do that and he replies straight away.

No problem. Only fair considering I broke it. Nice porn stash under your bed by the way.

I feel immediate panic at the prospect that he's not actually joking. And then I realise - I don’t actually own any porn. Because bodybuilders are my porn. Videos of shredded freaks bronzed up in shiny trunks and pumping up their insane muscles backstage. Or stomping around stages at bodybuilding shows. Flexing and showing off their phenomenal mass for an ever-adoring audience while pulling all manner of cocky facial expressions. Bodybuilders like Alfie Winters and Danny fucking King!

A few minutes later my phone lights up again with another text. Excitement rises in my chest at the thought of being Danny again. But it’s not. This time it’s from Alfie.

When are you next going to The Muscle Factory?

I smile at the message. Is this Alfie trying to make things right between us? Does he want to train with me again? I text him back telling him today after work and he replies asking me for a specific time. I guess he does wanna train with me again then! When I text him telling him I’ll be there at about half-past five, he sends me back a mysterious text.

That works! I’ll meet you there. Don’t go on the gym floor though. Meet me in the Juice Room!

And now my mind is fucking racing. Why does Alfie Winters want to meet me in the Juice Room? Maybe he’s planning some sort of posing video in there for Instagram and can’t find anyone else to film it so he thought of me? And then I have another thought. What if he tries to rope ME into featuring in it? Surely he knows that’s not something I’d wanna do after he had to practically twist my arm to get me to flex in front of the iconic flexing Muscle Factory bull?

I could text Alfie back asking him what’s going on but there’s no point because I know for a fact he won’t tell me. When I’m at the gym and changed, I feel weirdly nervous as I head to the Juice Room. My stomach’s actually churning. I have no idea what I’m about to walk into. And then it suddenly hits me. Danny’s here! I bet that’s it. Alfie has roped Danny into coming to The Muscle Factory and the three of us are going to train together. Some sort of welcome to the flat training session, following Saturday’s welcome drink. They probably arranged it when they were switching the beds earlier. Or more likely - Alfie managed to talk a reluctant Danny into it. 

My chest expands at the prospect of walking into the Juice Room to find Danny King bulging out of a vest and ready to train like an animal. I feel a wave of disappointment when I walk in to find Alfie sitting down at one of the booths with his coach and sometime competitive bodybuilder Jason Fox instead.

Alfie sticks his hand up and waves me over when he spots me. I feel a pinch of nerves as I approach them.

“All right, Nick?” Jason says. Maybe Jason just spotted Alfie by himself and sat down. I’m not sure what a guy like Jason Fox would have to talk to me about.

“How’s your bed?” Alfie asks with a cheeky grin. I grin and sit down.

“What’s this?” Jason asks. He’s wearing his bright red t-shirt with “Team Fox” written on it again. His thick arms bulging around the material. I have to admit I’m slightly intimidated by this guy. But there’s this sort of genuine, down to earth warmness about him. He’s even said hello to me a couple of times when he’s seen me around the gym. Which he definitely doesn’t have to do. I’m only flatmates with one of his clients. And we’ve only formally met once.

“Danny broke Nick’s bed last night.”

Jason screws his face up. “How?!”

“Ummm. He just sat on it,” I say.

Alfie barks out a laugh and Jason grins along. “Fucking hell,” he exclaims, with a little laugh. “I pity the lads going up against him at the Tiger Classic North West.”

I grin and look at Alfie, who grins back at me. Things don’t seem weird or awkward now at all. At least for this particular moment in time.

“So how are you finding it here, Nick?” Jason asks me.

I look over at Alfie who’s got this suspicious look on his face. Why do I suddenly feel like I’m at a job interview?

“Erm … yeah! I’m liking it so far.”

“Not tempted to abandon us and go to Panthers then?”

“Nah!” I say, smiling. Though I have to admit, the thought has crossed my mind.

Jason asks me when my last competition was, how I placed and whether I plan to compete again this year, to which I tell him no. 

“So I don’t know if you’ve heard, but they’ve introduced a new Junior Classic Physique class to all of the Tiger Classic shows this year, including the North West.”

“Oh right,” I say.

Where the hell is this going? And why did my stomach do a weird pull when Jason said the words “classic physique”?

“I’ve been talking to a couple of people and I have it on good authority that only three guys are planning to compete in that particular class.”

I look at Alfie, who looks excited and bites his bottom lip. 

“There could be other last-minute entries BUT with your build and the fact that you only competed a couple of weeks ago, I think you’ve got a good chance of placing well. Plus - it will be good exposure for you.”

I swallow and nod, not really sure what to say. Even though Danny and Mason the Hot Muscle Daddy have both joked about it, I hadn’t seriously considered competing at the Tiger Classic North West. Or competing in any show, for that matter. At least not anytime soon. My head’s just been so occupied with moving to Manchester, training at The Muscle Factory and starting my new internship here. I’m kind of flattered that Jason Fox thinks I could do it. That Jason even cares enough to try and encourage me. But - classic physique? 

“I’ve just … never really thought about it. Like, doing classic physique.”

“You’ve got the perfect build for it, Nick,” Jason tells me. “Your prep wouldn’t really be that different to your last show. But - and don't take this the wrong way, Nick - I think it’s obvious you could do with some help.”

I bite my lip and nod. I look over at Alfie again who’s giving me an excited grin with his eyes wide. I can't quite seem to register what’s happening here. Somehow, it doesn’t quite feel real. I look at handsome, thirtysomething uber personal trainer Jason Fox then back to my flatmate again.

Then Alfie blurts out the words I definitely didn’t expect to hear today. Or any other day soon. “We want you to join Team Fox!”

What the -

“He’s like an excitable puppy!” Jason groans, rolling his eyes.

Alfie puts his hands up and shapes them into paws, sticks out his tongue and does an impression of a panting dog. It’s so funny and cute. I laugh out loud and Jason laughs too.

“I’d love to coach you and enter you into the Tiger Classic North West, Nick. You’d be my first ever Junior Classic Physique guy. After that - there’d be no obligations to carry on working together. It’ll be hard work, but I’m up for the challenge if you are.”

“Erm …”

I can't believe this is happening. Jason Fox wants to work with me. Train me. Coach me. Join “Team Fox” along with the other awesome bodybuilders he works with. All (as far as I know) better bodybuilders than I am. Including Alfie. But classic physique. That’s the big catch. I think back to all the things Danny said to me yesterday. That the lines are blurring between the bodybuilding and classic physique classes. That there’s nothing stopping me from doing both. I think about Shaun Hudson. And Justin Hughes. And all of the other top classic physiques guys. All of them so shredded with amazing physiques and reputations. Maybe this is what I should be doing. Maybe I should be listening to top coach Jason Fox, who’s looking at me now with a look of anticipation on his face, along with Alfie Winters, both waiting for my answer to this incredible and surprising offer.

“Okay,” I reply. “I mean … yeah. I’m up for it.”

My chest swells with excitement as Alfie excitedly grins at me and Jason Fox smiles in that warm, endearing way. (Though I’m still slightly intimidated by him.)

“There is one condition though,” Jason says. “Alfie told me you’re not keen on posting your bodybuilding content on Instagram. But … I kind of need my guys to be active on social media.”

I nod, suddenly feeling nervous at the prospect of sharing my bodybuilding videos and pictures with the world.

“Is it a privacy thing?” he asks me.

“Ummm. Yeah. Sort of!” I say, looking at Alfie for support.

“Why don't you set up a new profile that’s separate from your personal one?” Jason suggests. “You can just exclusively use it for bodybuilding. None of your family or work colleagues needs to know it exists. You don’t even have to use your name on it!” 

I nod, smiling and biting my lip. I actually love that idea. A secret second Instagram that’s just for my bodybuilding.

Alfie gasps. “We could come up with a cool nickname for you.”

Jason grins at me. 

“Mr Pink Posers!” Alfie suggests. 

Jason pulls a face and rolls his eyes. I suddenly feel embarrassed but I actually secretly love that suggestion.

“We can work it out,” Jason says. “So … we’re doing this?” he says to me.

I bite my lip and nod, excitement coursing through me. Fuck. I’m actually doing this. I’m actually going to be competing in four weeks' time. At the same show as Danny King and Mason the Hot Muscle Daddy.

“Oh - and you’re obliged to come to my birthday meal this Saturday. The training and diet start Monday.”

I nod and look at an excited Alfie, then back to Jason. My new fucking coach! 

“Welcome to Team Fox!” 

[MuscleJoe]

Just no words.  Omg!!  Team Fox!!

[muscleaddict]

3 minutes ago, MuscleJoe said:

Just no words.  Omg!!  Team Fox!!

Time to get fucking shredded.