Back in the good old days, before streaming, before DVDs, there were things called “VHS tapes.” I know for a fact some of you young’uns are a little blurry on this point in homoerotic wrestling history. One of the things we’ve given up with the awesome leaps in technology and convenience that have transformed gay wrestling over the past 30 years or so is the extra tape at the end of a standard VHS tape. BG East used to record trailers for other products, that you’d find when you reached the end of the matches that you purchased. You can find these (and more recent ones) in the Arena now, but there was something sort of magical about not knowing what you were going to find at the end of those tapes. However much tape was left, you’d get these tantalizing little clips of products you didn’t buy, but maybe now you will buy. It’s just capitalism, but I swear, sometimes I keyed off at least as much on those trailers as the matches I just bought.

That’s how Zack Coleman and Brian Barnes first came across my radar. They caught my eye in a trailer for the inaugural Tag Team Torture. And honestly, it takes a lot to grab my attention in that collection, because fuck, the other two matches on that tape are deliriously hot. But even more “fuck,” tag team partners Zack and Brian are off the charts hot! So yeah, of course I bought that. I don’t think I’ve ever reviewed that match, though, but I thought, before I do, I’d review the only other match these two stunning hotties appeared in, namely Fantasymen 17, where they wrestled against one another before teaming up.

Zack and Brian’s faces appear in the dictionary under the definition of babyfaces. They look so fresh and pretty, in different ways from one another, but each perfectly babyfaced. Brian is adorable, somehow even more adorable with a few edgy tats and his nipple rings. He’s ripped, too. His washboard abs would steal the show if it weren’t for two things. The first thing that competes with his abs is his huge, pendulous package. At least 5 pounds of his 155 lbs have got to accounted for by the heft in his pouch. There are moments when he’s wriggling and writhing and bridging high off that mat, and it’s just breathtaking!

The other thing that draws the eye away from Brian’s phenomenally ripped abs is Zack Coleman. Holy. Fuck. This boy is dazzling! If I’m introducing you to Zack in this post, first of all, you’re welcome, and second, I’m sorry to report that this superhuman specimen appeared in only these two matches (Fantasyman 17 and Tag Team Torture 1). He’s reportedly 6′ and 195 lbs, and he’s ripped… to… shreds. He’s fucking gorgeous in a way that I’m struggling to find the words to convey. More than gorgeous, he’s so sizzlingly sexy. He just watches as Brian warms up by doing amateur wrestling drills, sliding and hopping and twisting and bouncing around. And then Zack pushes himself away from the wall, fills the mat room with his gargantuan shoulders, and does a front bend in which he folds himself in half, stretching the backs of his legs like a fucking yoga master. “That’s a nice stretch,” Brian snarls, “but it doesn’t mean nothing but that you can look pretty on the mat. Anybody can be flexible.” But, fuck, no Brian. Not anyone can be that flexible, and no one with as much thickly draped muscle mass as Zack can just be that flexible!

The size difference is striking. And hot. Zack towers almost a half a foot over Brian, and I believe the 40 pounds of weight advantage that the BG East website reports. “Someday, you can grow up and be big like me,” Zack taunts, flexing his huge, peaked biceps. “My calves are bigger than your whole legs,” he brags, but it’s not really bragging when it’s objectively, verifiably, obviously fact, right? Fuck. “Weight don’t mattah,” Brian snarls at one point. Zack’s Boston accent, swallowing his ending “r’s” even thicker, makes him that much sexier when he smirks back, “You’ll grow up someday, brothah.”

The wrestling is hot and surprisingly hotly contested. Both of these hunks clearly have extensive amateur wrestling experience. They’re fast and they’re decisive, sweeping legs, locking each other down, and exposing each other’s backs to the mat. About 10 minutes into the 30 minute match, it’s astonishingly competitive, and not in a roll my eyes and suspend disbelief kind of way. Brian is aggressive as fuck, and he takes it to the big man full throttle. He gets huge Zack down on the mat several times, and it’s damn impressive. Keeping him down on the mat, though? That’s another story. Zack is just too fucking big and too fucking strong. He repeatedly uses raw muscle and brute strength to escape and reverse, repeatedly climbing into the saddle on top of little Brian. And right there, that’s the entire story of this match, because Brian is having none of it, and he fights his way free with every ounce of strength and balance and flexibility. In short, he wears himself out.

As Brian is starting to huff and puff and suck down air, Zack gets cockier. The muscle man was tested in those first 10 minutes, but he can see exactly what we’re seeing: Brian burned through his reserves and he’s cooking on fumes. It organically turns into a sensationally sexy bully session, with big, gorgeous Zack absolutely manhandling his fiesty, full throttle little challenger. Several times, he swoops in from neutral, scoops Brian up in his huge arms, and flings him wall to wall across the mat. Sometimes he bothers to follow up and pin him, sometimes not. It’s not like it matters, because he is large and in charge and laughing and sneering at the fierce fucker who refuses to say die, even when he’s just getting crushed by 195 pounds pinning him effortlessly on the mat.

There are only a couple of editing breaks in the filming, so you can feel the heat rising in the room steadily. Zack is so contemptuous of Brian’s fading strength, that he voluntarily drops to the mat in the referee’s position, unsolicited. “Because, you ain’t got no chance, othawise,” he smirks, not looking back, with his top shelf ass waiting for Brian to do something. “Come on, bitch, mount that!,” he barks in irritation when Brian doesn’t immediately respond. Fuck, the pillow talk! Brian gives it everything he’s got left, which is enough to hold Zack in place about 1.3 seconds, before the muscle man escapes, taunting and sneering and flexing his perfect physique.

Zack revels in crushing Brian’s core in scissors. “Tell me when you give, you little bitch. Look at these quads!” Zack is milking the fight right out of Brian, knowing full well how stunning his outrageously hot physique is on display at every moment. He gets the little guy to submit a couple of times trapped between his sweaty thighs, and I could watch that happen again another dozen times and still be enthralled.

Brian’s got attitude, though. After giving away one whimpering submission trapped between Zack’s tree trunks, he audaciously challenges the muscle man to arm wrestle. It would be a transparent play for a low blow, if both of these bro-y guys weren’t so fucking earnest and ego-driven. But, yeah, Brian knew he was going to get crushed in that arm wrestling match, which is why he was poised to pounce on top of Zack and take advantage of the big man’s overconfidence. He pulls on his hair. He threatens to bite him. Fuck, when he rolls the coiled mountain of muscle up in a cradle pin, yanking the fuck out of Zack’s neck, it’s a super sweet submission the small guy earns sensationally.

So, yeah, there’s a lot of big on little bullying, but the intensity doesn’t let up for a second of the 30 minutes of this match. Brian is crushed and forced to grudgingly acknowledge he does NOT have what it takes to conquer the babyfaced beefcake flexing and flicking sweat down on him by the end. “You need an ambulance,” Zack asks, laughing heartily. Flat on his back, wasted and humiliated, Brian snarls petulantly, “You’re, like, twice the size of me!” So much for “Weight doesn’t mattah.”

I assume these two showed up on BG East’s doorstep together, because they’ve got buckets of chemistry in this sweat fest mat match, and the very next catalog they showed up in matching gear as a truly stunning babyface tag team. If this is all new to you, and I’m just now introducing you to these 2-hit wonder twins, don’t thank me. Thank VHS tapes!