Mark smiled as he walked into the store. With the economy the way it had been, thrift stores like these were a godsend to teens and adults alike. Electronics, clothes, cookware, you name it, they usually had something to offer. What better place to burn a few bucks?
The store was well stocked with many an item on clothes racks or stored on shelves and in cases to view. Mark made straight for the clothing. If he was going to have a laugh, this would be a good place to start. He couldn’t help but smirk as he eyed one of the hangers. Two thin straps draped on either branch, hemmed with blue, yellow, and orange thread. A veritable rainbow spectrum shone across the brand label over the left side of the chest.
A lift of the hanger and one click of his cell phone later, and he’d sent the text.
Who wants to see me in this?
The flood of emotes ranged from crying laughter to shut eyes laughing and more. The messages varied, but their intent was about the same, that single push of, DO IT!
Mark swept a few extra random articles for good measure and made his way toward the dressing room. The stall was spacious and included a tall mirror for the occupants to see how the clothing fit. Mark didn’t hesitate. He quickly stripped out of his shirt and shuffled the tank top over his body. The shirt felt more like a nightgown than a proper garment, but at least it didn’t fall off his shoulders. He chuckled and raised his phone, then snapped a quick selfie.
What do you think, “bros?” :P
DUUUUUUUUUUUUDE!
BRO!
I can’t believe you actually did it!
Mark couldn’t help but chuckle as he watched the attention flooding in. The phone continued to ping as he gazed at his reflection and rubbed his chin. If he really wanted to up the hilarity, he knew what he needed to do. He flexed a bicep and held the phone overhead, then snapped.
Do you even lift, bro? #python #big gun #LOL #Muscleheadamok #Bruh
He chuckled as another flood of replies flowed in. As he looked over the picture, he couldn’t help but rub his chin in thought. The way the straps fell over his chest actually didn’t look half bad. A little uneven, though.
He strode out of the room briefly and tapped a patron on the shoulder. “Excuse me. Sorry to be a bother, but could you just take a quick picture for me?”
The man who turned to face him was portly with a white sweater vest draping over his frame. An old fashioned smoke pipe curved from between his lips to rest against his palm as he blinked and focused on the teen. “What was that?” the man asked. The accent that flowed was a strange blend of American and British, almost as if he were trying to force it. He furrowed his brow as his waxed mustache twitched. “Oh, a picture. Of course. Of course. No trouble.” He proffered a hand and easily panned the frame while he clenched the pipe in his teeth.
The camera flashed. Mark blinked. He didn’t remember turning that function on.
“I hope that worked, young man. I never can seem to get these phones to work properly. Confounded things are more trouble than they’re worth, if you ask me. Give me my pipe and a good book any day of the week.” Smoke billowed from between the man’s lips, but he didn’t seem to care or mind the fact he was smoking in the store. Had he … been doing that before? The accent definitely sounded more authentic this time around. Maybe it was practice? Practice does make perfect.
“Uh, … thanks,” Mark said as he seized his phone. The man smiled and walked away, leaving what appeared to be a pager on the floor as he disappeared into the crowd. Another blink, and the device suddenly had a price tag on it. Mark crouched, picked it up, and placed it on one of the many shelves nearby. Though he had no idea who would want to even buy something so antiquated. He chuckled as he walked away and peered at the photo. His hair had been carefully styled to emphasize his forehead without making it overly large compared to the rest of his frame. The muscles under the fabric were toned, and he couldn’t help but smile at the sight. He wasn’t a musclehead, but he looked good. “Not bad, ‘bro.’ Huhuh.”
The chuckle felt almost like a cough, and Mark rubbed his throat as his eyes furrowed. He circulated the photo in the thread and smiled as the replies flooded in.
Dude, have you been working out?
You gonna buy it or what?
Lookin’ good, bro. Sun’s out, guns out!
He hardly paid attention as the dressing room door creaked open under his touch, then shut behind him. Instead, his eyes locked on the floor-length mirror again. He frowned as he scrutinized his face, his shoulders, the way the shirt hung over his frame. Something seemed … off, but he couldn’t quite place it.
“Maybe it’s the look?” he questioned, even as his voice cracked and dropped. He cleared his throat and swallowed again. His vocal cords tingled, but at least there wasn’t any annoying tickle. Those things were the worst. He swallowed again and smiled as his Adam’s apple bobbed in time with the motion. He took a certain pride in that size after the teasing he’d received in the earlier days of his youth.
“When are your balls gonna drop, bro?”
Mark smiled and spread his arms wide in the mirror. “Good fruit takes time to ripen, bro.” He shuddered, and his eyes rolled in pleasure as he drew his head back, thrust his chin forward and flexed. This time, he shot the mirror a cocky grin. “Damn, you sound sexy,” he rumbled. His chest rose and fell in time as he flexed and posed. He looked good, but as he eyed the jeans sheathing his legs, he frowned. The clothes pile was there, just waiting, and he knew what he wanted, what he needed to make the look really work.
Shucking the jeans felt so freeing as meaty thighs and thick calves hardened into sculpture. His hand drifted over his briefs. He blinked, and the familiar pressure of cotton hugged his bulge. Before he knew it, the camera flash went off. Meaty thumbs jabbed heavily at the touchscreen on his phone as a flexing bicep swelled into prominence over the whole surface before opening to his main feed. He punched against the keys and smirked cockily as he hit the post button.
This new tank’s growing on me. Think I’ll run it through its paces.
It didn’t take long for notifications to start flooding in. His chest swelled with pride as his torso broadened. He huffed another chuckle. The cool air tingled against the stubble on the sides of his head. The new fade cut helped to emphasize the angularity in his facial features. Wads of button-up shirts and slacks with suspenders went by the wayside as he dug like a dog after its bone until he finally unearthed the clothes he was looking for.
The sleek shiny black material of the shorts was cool and breezy as he pulled the garment up his legs and gazed at the mirror. He looked ready to run, and his heart hammered in anticipation of the act. His breathing came heavier and faster as his skin tingled and stretched taut. Another flex and pop, pop, snap, pop! Veins burst into existence, as if the muscles were forcing them out of some hidden sheath or hole. Blood surged in his ears.
“Bro….” His head felt … strange, light, fuzzy, stuffed.
Another flash. This time, the photo showed a glazed stare with his mouth slightly agape. Emotes surged with icons of steaks, meat on bones, flexing biceps, starry eyes, hearts, and more. He even heard the familiar ring of a cash register going off. A notification for deposits into an account, donations from adoring fans.
Can’t wait for the vid.
Show us that pump!
Fuck, get to the gym already!
The gym…? Did he … have an appointment there? His thumb drifted hesitantly over the screen and brushed the dollar icon at the bottom of the app’s menu. His eyes widened at the total. +$2300.20 and still rising, just from today’s pics alone. “The fuck…?” He scrawled through the main post feed. Post after post and selfie after selfie revealed all manner of poses and stances. Some in briefs. Some in jockstraps. Some in tight compression gear to show off the definition in his muscles. Occasionally, a workout video would surface showing him pumping some impossibly large weight to force his body to show off with sleek sweat and clinging gymwear. How … could this be him? Some of those dates were clearly game nights, times to hang out with his bros and totally invite them to the gym.
…
Wait, … that wasn’t….
FLASH
Right … right…. He gazed at a timeline .gif as four tiny bros swelled into big meaty models, grinning with two on either side of his giant frame. From nerds to studs and stats to lats. The tank top clung to his shoulders and pecs now as his brow lowered over the sight and a dull chuckle huffed out his anxiety. Game night meant teaching them how to get game. And who better to teach them than the master himself?
Mark grinned cockily as he snapped another pic. Then a new message pinged on the app.
Stop posing and start running, bro. We’ve been waiting for ten minutes. Get your ass over here already!
Mark chuckled. His little bros were starting to grow some fangs. He strode out from the changing room and sighed. Guess he’d have to look for some shirts to tear off for his fans later. As he left, he bumped into one of the attendants. “Oh, uh, sorry, bro. Didn’t see ya there.” He rubbed his head awkwardly, showing off his lats and biceps. “Uh, … I gotta go, but I don’t got time to return the rest of the gear in there. You think you can, uh, you know….?” The bristles over his scalp scraped against his hand, leaving a pleasant tingle to course through his body as a result.
“Of course, Sir.” The clerk smiled. “Did you find what you wanted?”
“Not yet, but … I’ll be back.” He pulled out his wallet from a pocket and shoved a fifty into the worker’s hand. “For the trouble. Thanks, little bro.” And then he was off with his boulder legs stomping the ground as he charged through the store and into the light beyond. The gym was calling, and he couldn’t keep his bros, let alone his fans, waiting.
The attendant crouched and picked up a tee shirt from the floor. The captioning on it read Just an Ordinary Teenager. “Thank you for the business.” He chuckled and shook his head as he picked it up. “Someone in a midlife crisis is going to loveyou.” He sighed as he looked over a clipboard. “I suppose I should get the bodybuilding inventory out. If that lummox comes back, he’s practically guaranteed to pick that next as a life course. He smirked as he checked a familiar looking app on his phone while his muscles strained ever so slightly against his uniform. “He’ll certainly have enough money for it.” He chuckled as he made his way into the changing room and retrieved the clothing the behemoth had left behind. “I wonder what his friends will choose if he brings them here….”
