Unleashing the Alpha Bro

Scream, bro. It’s okay, go ahead -- scream, and let go.

Let go of that energy that’s been building inside you all morning, that you first felt blooming as if within a dream, just minutes before your alarm clock went off at 5:00 am. 

Before the fourth tone of the alarm, the energy had grown until your eyes seemed to snap open and you found your body moving almost of its own accord. A routine, same as every day. Both of us swinging our legs out of bed, standing up and facing each other, making the bed then dropping down to the ground for our 100 morning push-ups.

You used to balk, in the days before you felt the energy inside you, the purpose that guides you, that your bro made clear to you. Couldn’t hardly do a push-up at first, in fact, said that it hurt your wrists.

So we strengthened your wrists. And your core. And your back. And eventually you were able to do 10. And then pretty quickly after that we got you up to 20, then 30, then 40, just because your muscles had learned the proper form.  Then it became gradual progress -- 45... 52... and still you felt the energy growing, as your big bro took you down again and again, driving home your purpose. Until finally one day you made it.

Since then you’ve felt that same energy every morning, from the time you wake up until the 100th push-up is complete. It’s the only thing that can take the edge off, and you love doing it in unison with me, hearing the smooth exhale with every rep together and sitting in peaceful silence during the rest period, eager to go back for more.

By rep 100 the energy subsides -- not gone completely -- and for the first time all morning you’re able to think: Breakfast? What’s for breakfast. That’s your job, while big bro pulls together the gear and the plan for the morning’s workout.

This morning you went with a basic chicken omelette, threw in some vegetables, and a dash of hot sauce. You didn’t overthink it -- you just went to the refrigerator, and that’s what was there. The food order comes online, and it’s easier to keep the cart mostly the same from week to week.

The Chain

From the time you first started wearing it, after big bro bought it for you, you loved it.

There’s always that initial period where the whole experience of wearing a necklace feels new again -- the friction between the metal and your skin, the weight of it, its presence against your clothes. And each time you felt yourself become aware of it those first few days, you would feel yourself grin a little, followed by the inexplicable but pleasant sensation of a light shining somewhere in your brain. A beacon. A shaft of of sunlight, breaking through the clouds, bathing you in warmth and comfort. Just for a moment or two, the feeling of relaxing and letting go of your mind, before you’d be brought back into yourself with a jolt like falling awake, and hear your blood rushing in your ears. That stage was awesome, if too short.

Course it was. Big bro knows best. 

As always, the body adapts in time to anything. You’d find yourself having that feeling less and less in the months and years following, as you continued to wear the chain each day and it slowly became just part of who you are.

There were still times, in those days, when you’d remember that it was there -- maybe even thinking how strange it was you had forgotten -- and the feeling would come back stronger than before. Perhaps you’d catch it dangling, out of the corner of your eye, when you bent to pick over your books. Or you’d notice it had migrated above your ears when trying to pull off your compression shirt after a run. 

Or even big bro would remind you of it during a visit -- pulling you in close, voice in your ear, tracing over and over the ridges and links while watching TV or chilling at the park. 

Eventually, even those reminders faded -- but still you love your chain. Your awareness of it dwindling, but always being replaced by something else -- that feeling of warm relaxed control, that focus that once had only come in moments -- more and more becoming your how your mind all the time. Hanging out with big bro. Lifting. Eating. Fucking. Sleeping. Simple and relaxed.

So easy to bask in the warmth, more and more. So pleasurable to give up control, more and more. 

Driven

It’s a hot day in the park, so it’s no surprise that I reach into my backpack and hand you a water bottle as we both climb back into the truck. You take a swallow and your eyes widen a little when you realize it’s not plain water, but I watch as immediately your training kicks in, and it’s like I can read your thoughts across your face.

Must be some new supp. Big bro knows best. You’re thirsty little bro, so you drink fast and greedy, a little bit of the water escaping from your mouth and dripping down your chest, following the line of big bro’s chain along your skin.As we climb into the truck, I reach over and wipe you down -- don’t want the AC to blow too cold -- and take your bottle after you finish the rest in one long pull. 

As the engine roars to life, and the fans begin to blow, you feel yourself settling back in your seat, gripping the handle along the side and tilting it at a slight angle, so that you can just turn your head and see out the window. All the colors of spring running by -- your mind begins to feel light, as if it’s floating above the racing colors out your window, drifting from topic to topic so easily and never quite settling on a thought. You’re dimly aware as I reach over and plug my phone into the AUX jack, scrolling through my audio files, until a low pulsing tone begins to play out of the speakers. Your body is so relaxed -- you wonder without concern if there was something in that bottle that had maybe drugged you -- the thought passes by like a sign beside the road, and your mind casts about for the next thought, drawn again to big bro’s voice. Big bro knows best. It’s easy to lay there and listen to me talk, no other cares in the world. Relaxed, pleasure. It’s easy to let my words become your thoughts. Obedient, pleasure. Feeling so relaxed, obedient, and pleasurable as your recently-worked muscles all loosen and your pupils dilate to take in the rushing scenery as your mind is relaxed and open for big bro. Big bro knows best. You like being driven by big bro. Driven to develop a bigger body. Driven to the right choices about what to wear, what to eat, how to live your life. Anywhere big bro drives, you’re there in the passenger seat, letting him move your body from place to place without concern.

You’re not sure how long the drive lasts, until we pull into our driveway and the engine cuts, and the lights in the top of the cab flicker on when my door opens. “Did I fall asleep?” Yeah lil bro, no worries. Bet you’re still feeling a little tired -- let’s get you into the bedroom and ready for a little rest. You smile as you unbuckle your seatbelt, and groggily push open the door. 

Waking Up

One week together with big bro, and now he has returned “home.” It seems strange to think of it that way -- but it is, for now. 

All day long, as he slowly drove up the coast, he could slowly feel his mind starting to wake up. There was really no other word for it. 

Not like he’d been asleep the whole time, or anything He could remember plenty of specifics from the week he just spent with his big bro -- cookin meals together, watchin movies laying in big bro’s arms while they ate. Workin out together. Shoppin’ together... that sweet pair of red Metcons in the mail already -- fuck.  No, the feeling was a different kind of waking up. With the radio playing, the afternoon light filtering through the trees beside the highway, it was the way the thoughts about his life began to slowly return -- considerations for the week ahead, preparing mentally for returning to school, work, the gym, logging meals, checking in on the monitor... all the important things that for one whole week had been completely second-nature.  A blur, a routine followed without thought, where in many ways his mind had been asleep. 

Laundry Day

Ever since I told you it was laundry day, right after wakin up, you’ve been a little excited. You can’t quite place why that would be - it’s just laundry after all. It’s fine, but no reason for the hyperfocused energy that launches you outta bed.

You don’t focus on that for long. Before you really know it, you’ve downed some breakfast I laid out and we’re lugging our hampers full of dirty gear down the steps toward the basement. The grip of your arms around the basket sets your shoulders aglow with the memory of yesterday’s workout, focused on my back as I lead the way below you step by step.

Step by step. At the thought, the feeling of excitement starts to return, becoming a little more insistent. You’re barely aware of the grin spreading across your face, as a warm fog starts spreading over your brain with each step down to the basement.

By the time we hit the bottom, you’re grinning and feeling great; the feeling only grows as we load the machine and start the cycle. The feeling keeps getting stronger, but right as you think you’re about to say something about it, you feel my arms wrapping around you, spinning you, sitting you up on the machine.

You laugh as I lean in and take a kiss, grinding my hips playfully against you. This feels good -- this feels familiar.... I say a phrase, and you feel yourself repeat it reflexively. An automatic impulse. There’s a sudden rush of blood in your head, a roaring in your ears. The machine beneath you vibrates in time with my hands kneading your thighs -- it’s hard to believe you used to think shorts should fall at the knee.

You’re not thinking about anything now. 

Task for lilbro

One week left until your back in my arms lilbro. Can’t fuckin wait. BRODOWN II HYPE. So I gotta job for ya.

Your good at cookin - hell today you improvised some pasta concoction and it sounded fuckin delicious – and I know you gotta bunch of healthy cookbooks and shit.

Induction

Your heart rate is slowing down, beat by beat. 

We’ve been walking downtown for a while now -- for your first consultation with the guy I’ve picked out to ink your right sleeve, though you don’t know that yet. You don’t give a fuck WHERE you’re goin, as long as it’s with me. You follow half a step behind me, and it makes you feel so comfortable and safe that your mind starts to drift, anchored only by the warm deep droning of my voice.

Your breathing becomes as slow and even as the stride I’ve set for us, each step making you feel more and more relaxed. 

I surreptitiously check my phone, where the monitor you wear has been beaming millions of bytes of data about your body every minute. I can read you like a book by now -- you’re ready, bro. You look so fuckin sexy and blank in that Muscle Monkey shirt I picked out for you, I can’t help but laugh when I turn around. You sharpen up a little bit at the sound -- something in it stirring the first faint rumblings of a thought that you’ve had in a while.  “Did I do somethin funny, big bro?” You’re fuckin hilarious little bro.