"Sloan Cosgrove 2, Confessions of a Middle-Aged Bear" is the sequel to "Sloan Cosgrove, Confessions of a Teenage Bear," a novel originally published online in 2001 and currently available at:
http://www.nifty.org/nifty/gay/college/sloan-cosgrove/
Feel free to email me at thefratbear@yahoo.com if you'd like to connect or ask a question. Please note that my old fratbear(at)excite.com email address no longer works.
Twitter: http://twitter.com/thefratbear
For those without Twitter, I'm also now posting story notes and answers to reader questions on Tumblr:
Tumblr: http://www.tumblr.com/thefratbear
"Sloan Cosgrove 2, Confessions of a Middle-Aged Bear"
by fratbear (thefratbear@yahoo.com)
Chapter 31: Concert Head
September 2004
Having grown up in a small town in Texas that was devoid of a live music scene except for the occasional bar band or aspiring country singer at a local bar, I never got into the habit of going to concerts or live shows in the first 25 years of my life. That all changed in May 2004 when Gabe greeted me as I got home from work one Wednesday night.
"Hey, Tina got free tickets to the Beulah concert at the El Rey this Friday, but she has to work that night. You wanna come with me?"
I hesitated because it meant I wouldn't be able to stay late after work for my weekly Friday night sex with my boss Gavin, but by that point I'd literally been fucked by Gavin dozens of times. Besides, I really liked Beulah, an indie rock band with a cult following.
"Hell yeah," I replied, excited not only by the prospect of going to my first real rock concert but also by being able to hang out with Gabe again, even if I knew it wouldn't end in sex like it used to.
The concert turned out to be incredible, made even more fun by having a massive beast like Gabe dancing awkwardly next to me the entire time. I bought a Beulah tee-shirt, which turned out to be a wise investment because just a few months later, the band announced their break-up.
That was also the night that I became an avid concert-goer, a habit that continues to this day. Los Angeles is an incredible city for live music, and I was lucky enough to have a friend like Tina who could hook me up with free, discounted, or even hard-to-get tickets thanks to her concert venue job. It also helped that my apartment was within walking distance of several concert venues, from the Hollywood Palladium to the Henry Fonda Music Box to the Pantages Theatre.
Over the next several months, I must've gone to over a dozen concerts. By September I'd been to shows at just about every legendary venue in the city, from the Troubadour and the Roxy in West Hollywood to the Wiltern in Koreatown to the Greek in Griffith Park. In August I even got to see John Williams conduct an orchestra performing some of his most famous movie themes at the Hollywood Bowl.
So when rapidly ascending queer glam rock band Scissor Sisters announced a show at the Avalon Hollywood on a Wednesday night at the end of September, a mere 20-minute walk from home, I made sure to enlist Tina's help in getting a ticket. It was my most highly-anticipated show I'd ever had a ticket to, and I was so excited that I even arranged to leave work an hour early so I could get to the Avalon hours before doors were scheduled to open.
It was a hot day, and I knew that it was about to get hotter inside the theater, so after I left work, I went home and changed into shorts and a tank top before walking to the venue, listening to Scissor Sisters' debut album on my iPod. When I arrived, I found a line of fans already halfway down the block, many of them dressed exactly the same as me. We all had the same idea of getting there early so that we could secure a spot at the front of the stage for the show.
Though I wasn't the only bear waiting in line-- Scissor Sisters appealed to queers of all shapes and sizes, and it helped that band member Babydaddy was a bear-- I was probably the most threatening-looking fan there. Fortunately, in my shorts and tank top, I also looked gayer than ever. Everyone instantly knew that I was one of them.
The Avalon was a historic nightclub on Vine Street built in the 1920s. It was mid-sized theater that could hold 1,500 people, and it was a popular venue for musicians who would probably be playing amphitheaters in a couple of years. When the doors finally did open, I was able to make my way to the barricade at the front. The only thing between me and the stage was the photo pit where concert photographers could shoot pics of the band during the first few songs of the show. After that, concert security roamed the pit to make sure no one would jump the railing and try to rush the stage.
After months of regularly attending concerts, I'd developed a routine at shows. I'd just keep to myself, listening to music on my iPod until it was time for the opening act to start, then as soon as the opener finished, my headphones went right back into my ears until the headliner went on.
After the opener finished, the venue began to fill up in anticipation of Scissor Sisters' set. As a big guy, I didn't really feel like I needed to be worried about being crushed by the crowd, but I wondered how smaller people were able to survive packed concerts like this. I could tell that the show was going to start in a few minutes.
And that's when security let the concert photographers into the photo pit in front of the stage. Scissor Sisters were one of the hottest new bands around, so there were over a dozen photographers from various outlets there to shoot the band.
That's when I saw him. His back was to me as he looked at the stage, trying to figure out the best place to position himself. Like me, he was dressed in a tank top and cargo shorts. Even though I couldn't see his face, I instantly recognized the bearish shape of that body. I took off my headphones and called out.
"Hey Dylan!"
Dylan the photographer turned, an adorable, befuddled look on his scruffy face as he scanned the audience, trying to figure out who was calling his name. I hadn't seen him in nearly a year, and I wondered if he'd remember me. When his eyes met mine, a big, cute grin appeared on his face, and I knew that he recognized me.
"Sloan!" He strolled over to the barricade railing, first giving me an awkward hug, then planting an affectionate kiss right on my mouth. Normally, I would've been wary of being kissed in public like this, but this was a Scissor Sisters concert, after all. "How've you been?"
"Awesome. I got a great job downtown, thanks to you and that temp agency." I was hit by a pang of regret when I realized that I'd neglected our budding friendship. "Sorry, I should've called to thank you."
"It's all good," Dylan replied. He ran his hand over my chest. "Just glad to see you again."
"So you're shooting concerts again."
"Yeah, L.A. Weekly's been sending me out to a few shows the last couple of months." He looked down at his camera. "Look, I gotta get ready. You wanna meet up after the show?"
I smiled. "Definitely. You staying for the whole show?"
"Wouldn't dream of missing it. They're gonna kick us out of the pit after the first three songs, but I'll be roaming around, shooting photos from the crowd. I'll find you out in front afterwards. Let's catch up."
"Definitely." I felt like I was floating as my great night just got even better.
As expected, the Scissor Sisters concert was an absolute blast, and at one point I could've sworn that I locked eyes with Babydaddy. However, I spent the whole show thinking about what I'd do with Dylan after it was all over. I wondered if he'd want to come home with me and fuck.
When the show finally let out sometime after 11:30, I found Dylan waiting for me on the sidewalk outside the doors of the Avalon, his camera bag slung over his shoulder. His face lit up when he saw me, and he gave me a proper hug as I walked up to him.
"It's so unbelievably good to see you again," he said into my ear as he squeezed me with his powerful arms.
"Kind of surprised we haven't run into each other sooner," I replied as I looked over his body, admiring its bearish bulkiness. "I've been going to a ton of concerts the last few months."
"Well, there couldn't have been a better show to reunite at. Wasn't it fucking great?"
"The best," I said, suddenly realizing that we were being jostled by rowdy concert-goers still streaming out of the venue. "We should probably get off the sidewalk."
We broke free of the crowd and ducked around the side of the Avalon, venturing down a dark alley way.
"That's better," Dylan sighed. "So, you're a concert head now?"
"I'm addicted. In a couple of weeks I actually have three shows on three consecutive nights."
"Damn, you're hardcore." Dylan was impressed. "We'll probably see each other again at a show."
He then slung his camera bag around so that it was on his back and leaned into me to press his lips against mine. We wrapped our arms around one another, and our hands started to roam across each other's bodies. As we kissed hungrily, I slipped my hands under Dylan's tank top and ran them up and down his broad back.
He did the same with his hands, running them over the bare skin of my back before moving them around to the front of my body, squeezing my pecs and then rubbing my belly. He then shoved one of his hands down the front of my shorts and grabbed my cock. I groaned as he massaged my penis to a full erection.
I felt his burly, fuzzy chest and belly, then slipped my own hand under his waistband so that I could grasp his cock, which was already stiff and leaking precum. We stood there in the alley, making out as we masturbated one another.
We broke our kiss and just gazed into each other's eyes as we continued our mutual manual stimulations. "You wanna come over to my place? My apartment's just a few blocks away, and my roommate's spending the night at his girlfriend's."
"Oh shit." Dylan frowned. "Sorry, I can't. I gotta catch the midnight bus back home. There won't be another one for an hour."
My disappointment must have registered in my expression, because Dylan placed a hand on the side of my face and kissed me again.
"We do have twenty minutes," he said, smiling mischievously. "There's a lot we can do in twenty minutes." He pulled his hand out of my shorts and unbuttoned and unzipped them.
I have to admit, I was a bit shocked, even though I'd had plenty of sex in public places. "You mean right here?"
"Don't tell me you've never fucked in an alley," he replied.
He was right, of course. Back in college, I'd literally fucked a bouncer in an alley outside a strip club.
"We'd better be quick," I said.
"Oh, don't worry about that." Dylan pushed me behind a dumpster so that we would be well-hidden from the throngs of people passing by the end of the alley about a hundred feet away.
"How do you want me?" I asked, enjoying his aggressiveness. I was aroused by having this lovable, scruffy cub be in control.
"Drop your shorts and put your hands on the wall," Dylan ordered.
I did as I was told, letting my shorts fall around my ankles and pressing my hands up against the brick wall of the alley as if I were being frisked. Dylan stepped up behind me and pushed down his shorts, his beautiful cock springing up and poking my bare ass.
"Damn, I've been wishing for this for the whole year," he murmured as he lubed up his erection and pressed it against my asshole.
"Me, too," I groaned as he slid his rod into me, sending a shiver through my body.
Holding my hips with his paw-like hands, Dylan slammed his cock into my ass passionately. He grunted like a bear as he fucked me right there in the shadows of the alley.
"Fuck me, Dylan," I cried out, unafraid that someone might hear me. "Pound my ass."
"Yeah, bud," he groaned. "Your ass feels so good."
I loved the sensation of his shaft sliding in and out of my slick asshole. My own cock was hard as stone and dripping with precum as it bounced each time Dylan plunged his cock into my body. Taking a hand off the brick wall, I grabbed my dick and started jerking it furiously, overcome with pleasure.
Dylan was loving it. "Yeah, dude," he grunted. "Pump it. Milk that cum out."
"Oh god, Dylan," I moaned, "you're gonna make me cum."
He started humping his hips even harder and faster, pummeling my ass. I cried out as his frenzied thrusts sent me over the edge.
"Oh fuck, I'm shooting," I howled as my cock exploded in my pumping hand, blasting out jets of sperm that splashed against the alley wall.
"Fuck, that's hot," Dylan growled as my ass clenched around his cock. He let out a long, loud whine as he could no longer hold back. "I'm cumming!"
He grunted as I felt his cum shooting inside me. Dylan wrapped his thick arms around my chest and hugged me as he humped me gently, pumping his load deep into me. I felt his hot breath on the back of my neck as he sighed and whimpered.
"Oh god, that feels so good," he whispered as he slowed his fucking until we were just standing still, his arms wrapped around me, his cock still planted inside me.
"You don't want to miss your bus," I remarked as I turned my head to look back at him.
"We still got a few minutes," he replied, kissing my cheek.