Hippie Boy Kieran Becomes Xander the Heavy Metal Rock God by kooldoggie
Unfortunately, River would have only a few weeks to enjoy the return of his little boyfriend Kieran, as they walked right into a situation that would force the sweet little hippie boy to undergo a much more dramatic change in body and mind than he was prepared to make. They had been hiking into Santa Cruz, as they often did, looking for potential customers for their high-quality weed, when they happened upon a rock concert going on, some retro heavy metal bands playing, not at all the type of crowd the young hippies usually would associate with, except that they knew there would be plenty of pot-smokers among the crowd, and they stood to make a killing allowing them probably another whole year or two of extra cash. They tended to live off the land as much as possible, but of course the world often required some payment of the normal kind, and the dudes wanted to be prepared.
Barefoot as usual, River in his tie-dye T-shirt, and Kieran wearing his rainbow poncho hoodie, left open as he usually did to allow his small chest to breathe the night air, made their way into the crowd, the thrumming of powerful bass guitars in their ears. The whole scene unnerved the gentle, quiet Kieran, who detested loud noise, raucous behavior and overly-pumped testosterone. Besides that, the thrashers in the crowd wore a lot of leather, and Kieran, the vegan and animal-lover, hated that whole aspect of the scene as well. Better to wear hemp products, like the belt holding up his patched bellbottoms, or the hemp anklet that somehow had appeared around his left foot Ð the only remnant that Keoni the surferdude had left behind of his personality, still suited to the little hippie Ð though he couldn't remember how he got it, and it was just a tad loose on him. He looked down at the anklet now, lifting up the flare of his bellbottoms to check out his size 10 foot, only to find it tapping along to the cacophonous music, the ligaments straining in response to the aggressive, bombastic tunes. It actually was hurting his slender foot, and the wide-eyed Kieran couldn't understand why it was doing that. He looked up from his tan foot to comment about this to River, only to find his boyfriend had disappeared, somehow swept up into the melee of the cheering, dancing crowd. Kieran's fear kicked in, the slender little hippie a bit too small among all the writhing bodies, especially heavy metal dudes who tended to be on the bigger, more pumped-up side, suited to hard rocking and a harder life in general. Kieran, constantly trying to avoid having his bare feet stepped on by their leather-booted feet, stomping in time to the music, some of the long-haired metalheads barechested and sweaty, just like the thrashing musicians on stage, felt his anxiety growing to the boiling point. He whimpered into the crowd in his light voice, "River, where are you, dude!" But it was no use, as the crashing drums, vibrating guitars and screeching voice of the singer on stage, as well as the ultra-loud cheering of the crowd, drowned out his too soft voice. He simply didn't fit into this scene at all, and it was starting to piss off the peaceful hippie, who now felt the burning rage rising in his chest, forcing out a more extreme personality that could not only fit into this scene, but would dominate it!
Kieran felt sick, really violently ill, the urge to make such an extreme change starting to contort his slender frame. He groaned, looking up at the powerfully built rock gods performing amid the colored smoke and lights on stage. Little Kieran really only understood quiet folk rock, the type he played on his acoustic guitar; this, this was insanity, but a part was rising out of him that liked, no, loved this fucking insanity! He shivered, whimpering once again for River, but starting to lose hope he would ever find him. It was unbearably hot, and Kieran struggled out of his hoodie as he attempted to push his way past all the writhing bodies tossing their long, long hairsprayed manes in his face. That only further pissed him off, and a low grunt came out of him, not at all a sound made my quiet, falsetto Kieran. The fuckers needed to be put in their place, and Xander was one to do that.
With that thought, Kieran's body pushed up a few inches, now 5'9", a little better able to withstand the tumult in the crowd, but he was far from done. The more average sized boy, glistening sweat starting to roll down his more developed chest, pumped his fists in the air in response to the music, really starting to rock out. He noticed the peace symbol tattoo was fading from his lengthening arm, which was starting to look really jacked now. He would not miss the tattoo; Xander was not a peaceful boy. He was approaching six-feet now, his shallow six-pack now replaced by a deep eight-pack, as elaborate tattoos began to run up and down his sides. His small bellbottoms now looked ridiculous on him, and he had to struggle out of them before they grew too tight. But as he began peeling them off he noticed the texture of black leather below the frayed denim, and he revealed tight pants of that material as he yanked off the boy's silly jeans, tossing them away. He was looking pretty killer now, he noticed, his muscular thighs and calves, lengthening even more, totally outlined by the rockstar trousers. And yet his size 13 feet were bare. Why the fuck did he take off his cool-to-the-max steel-toed boots? They were still right beside him, however, and he slipped them over the leathers.
Yeah, Xander was coming out near perfect, his persona more and more that of a hard-rocking party boy, able to stay up nights, do a variety of drugs, drink his bandmates under the table. He needed a pretty big body to withstand all that abuse, and Xander made sure he hit the weights hard, so his pumped biceps could work their magic on the bass, and so he could show off what a rockin' body he had when he performed, his now booming voice able to bellow out his lust for life and his music. His height was starting to level out now at 6'4", almost as tall as Keoni once was, and with a totally, ripped, lean body to match, only slightly more muscular. But if his musculature and overall frame now resembled Keoni's, his personality did not. He was not chill by any means; he was more of a sensory-driven boy, as Tyler the Candy Raver had been, needing to live it up with substances, entertainment, his music, and constant sex. He knew he looked ripped and hot for the ladies who cheered for him when his band performed at those dive bars they were forced to play, but Xander liked the boys who also went gaga over him, and he never had trouble getting some twinky prettyboy every night. So fuck it what his bandmates thought about his preference, it was his life.
No boy could resist his model-perfect, handsome face, youthful for such a jacked body, but he was only 21. It wasn't elfin or pixie-ish like Kieran's but angular and full of smooth curves, high cheekbones against his lively blue eyes. And all that hair, of course, a wild mane of wavy blonde locks that swirled around his shoulders, going most of the way down his back and almost touching the metal-studded black belt around the waistband of his leathers. His waist was tight and small, despite all the hard living, for all that performing burned a lot of calories, so he only had a size 28 belt into which was tucked his mesh shirt. He had needed to take it off amid the steamy, sweltering scene, the sweat still pouring steadily down his god-like torso, making the rings pierced into his nipples, navel and tight, veiny Apollo's belt glisten. He also had piercings in his lip, nose, and in one dark eyebrow, as well as several in his ears. And leather bands encircled his forearms.
The tall metalhead smirked cockily, knowing he was perhaps the hottest in the concert hall, hotter than the band on stage, and he rocked back and forth ecstatically to the music, tossing around that long mane of hairsprayed golden waves, only now noticing he also had a pair of much thicker, longer braids than Kieran had, and these had colorful feathers tied into them. At last, the song came to an explosive, thrumming conclusion, and Xander roared, throwing one muscular, tanned arm into the air, just a bit less than tanned than Kieran's had been, but still pretty awesome. A tight, black leather gloved fist pumped into the air, hitting the lights, and many turned to admire the total rock stud who had come to party with them, easily one of the tallest in the crowd, his pecs heaving and glistening as he came down from the extreme bacchanalian ecstasy.
Xander gave one final toss to his thick mane, flinging beads of sweat into the air, then reached for his mesh shirt, using it to wipe some sweat from his hard torso. What a rockin' show, and a rockin' life, he thought, to be among other metalheads who knew such excellent music, inspiring him to a better performance in his own gigs.
Kieran was lost forever, and poor River was alone once more, but now rock god Xander was going on the road, this persona better suited now to create, unknowingly, the conditions that would allow him to reunite with Justin once more.