A year I’d been living in the capital city of Scotland, and I still wasn’t sure what to think about some aspects of it. It was a beautiful, historical city, to be sure, and the inhabitants were definitely friendly enough- if a little mad, some of them.

I just didn’t- for the life of me- understand ceilidhs.

A ceilidh was a social event- where people all came together to dance. But it wasn’t like a club, it was different. The dances were in fact a series of routines that looked simple enough until you attempted them. Fast paced and lively. And, even though they were explained at the start of each one, I still couldn’t grasp them.

Scottish country dancing.

Maybe you had to be Scottish to grasp it, but then again my two English roommates could do it.

They’d been living here longer, though…

Regardless, my roommates kept dragging me to these affairs in random church halls and the like, and I always stood in the corner the whole night, refusing to dance.

“Now, pick your partners for the Military Two-Step!” the lead vocalist of the band on stage announced. There was a cheering, and Ollie Taylor-Williamson bounced up to me enthusiastically.

“Would you come and dance?” he said impatiently in his American-tainted Scots accent. “You ain’t comin’ to these to sit at the side!” He tugged on my arm, his big blue eyes shining from within his flushed, cheeky, boyish face. His hair was pure blond, and still perfectly spiked. He gave me a cute pout, “Please…? I hate seein’ you doin’ nothin’…”

“Ol, we’ve been through this before…” I said slowly, talking to him like he was thick. Common misconception, actually. Ollie was far smarter than he looked. “I don’t know these dances.”

“Then learn,” he retorted in the same slow voice. “That’s how you get to know them…” I laughed. “C’mon,” he begged. “I’ll teach you! Stace’ll teach you! Kyle’ll teach you! D’ll teach you!”

“I get it, you’ll teach me!” I interrupted, before he could go on. “I’m fine. Just go.”

“Do we all have our partners?” the man on stage asked.

I shoved Ollie on the shoulder, “Go.”

“Next dance,” he vowed. “We’re quadruple teamin’ you! You ain’t getting’ off again…” He jogged off to join the other three.

That was the thing about living with four other people- two of them Scots- who had known each other for just under a decade: You were always outnumbered. I sighed to myself and moved off towards the bar at the back of the hall, as the guy began to explain the dance. There was a tap on my shoulder.

“Excuse me? Do you have a partner?”

The accent wasn’t Scottish, I noted as I turned round. I was greeted with a shockingly blue pair of eyes. Now, this was an attractive man. I lived with three gorgeous men, but this one was perfection- and he was looking right at me. “No,” I told him. “And, I’m sorry, but I don’t really want one.”

He looked amused, “Why?”

“I don’t dance.”

“Then why are you here?”

I jerked my head towards my roommates- who were now trying to calm Stacey down as she’d gone into a laughing fit in the middle of the floor. Kyle was clutching his ankle in irritation, so my assumption was that she’d kicked him again. “Because they do.”

“Then you should learn- for them.” He held out a hand to me hopefully, “I’m Harry.”

“Dougie.” I took his hand, just as the music began. “But I don’t know it.”

“You’ll pick it up,” he pulled me towards the floor. We lingered on the edge, so he could teach me without us being mowed over by those who already knew it. “Okay:”

He made us stand side-by-side, and took my hand. Glancing out at the floor, I noted he had taken the male position. Fair enough- he was the teacher, and he was taller than I was. “Heel, toe, heel, toe, one, two, three.” He demonstrated the foot movement, tapping his heel off the ground, then his toe, and again. I copied him, and then he lead me forward three steps.

“Turn.” We dropped hands and did a 180 degree turn. “Same again,” he commanded, and we did so. Then we turned to face one another, and he took both my hands. “Bounce and kick.” He did so. I copied him, so our feet passed by each other’s smoothly. We did it again in the other direction, and he spun me under his arm.

Then he took in me in a very tight waltz hold. His body was essentially pressed against mine, the hand that wasn’t holding mine resting on my hip. I put my hand on his shoulder. “And polka,” he whispered.

I giggled as he spun us in a full 360 degree turn, moving forward about a metre in the process. “I can’t believe I’m understanding this.”

“It just clicks, doesn’t it?” Taking my hand again, he led me further onto the floor, and coaxed me into joining in properly. I still wasn’t very good at it, though. “You have to bounce,” he told me as we weaved in amongst the other couples doing the polka.

“I’ll bounce once I’ve memorised the bloody steps,” I told him. He laughed, and I could feel his eyes on me as I tried to do it right.

“You’re getting there,” he complimented.

“Shut up,” I retorted. “I’m sh- bad, and you know it.” I winced slightly, “Almost swore in a church hall.”

“I’m the only who heard,” he assured me. He pulled me into him again for the polka, and I was ashamed to admit that being that close to him was turning me on so much. “Listen to the music, Dougie. It’s not just there so no-one can hear the clumping of their feet.”

I regarded him evenly during the bounce kicks, “I am listening to the music. It’s just not doing me any-” I was silenced as he pulled me against him again and I found myself staring into those blue orbs. “-good.”

We began to polka, but he steered us out of the circle, then broke into a run, pulling me with him. We left the hall, and he spun me round and pushed me into a wall. “Then let’s take a break for a minute,” he suggested, and his lips crashed down on mine.

The rush I felt was obscene. I didn’t know this man- why was I so desperate for his touch? It made no sense. I forced my tongue past his lips, and met his passionately. His body was pressed against mine again, even closer than before, and he slid his hands down my sides seductively.

I broke away, “Not here. It’s a church hall. That’s a double sin- sex before marriage and homosexuality.”

“You’re right.” He considered for all of a second, “I’ve got it.” And again, he was pulling me along by the hand. We left the church hall and he led me into the adjoining car-park. He pointed, “How about in there?”

I felt my jaw bounce off the floor, “That’s your ride?”

It was a limo. An honest-to-God, black, actual limo. Gleamed to perfection and sitting right there. He nodded, laughing at my reaction, “Yeah. Will it do?”

“Don’t you have a chauffer?”

He shrugged, “That’s easily rectified.” He led me over, and knocked on the front window. It rolled down.

“Is something the matter, sir?”

“Not at all,” he said dismissively. “I want you to go and amuse yourself for the remainder of the ceilidh. There’s no point in you sitting out here doing absolutely nothing.”

He nodded, “Would you care for me to leave the keys with you?”

“Please,” Harry said honestly. With a nod, the driver got out the limo, handed him the keys, and walked off. “Thank you,” Harry called after him. He squeezed my hand, “Come on.”

He led me round the side of the car, and opened the door for me. I slid in, and was amazed. I’d never been inside a limo in my life, and it was incredible. There was so much space, and two full length sofas lined either side, while the whole back was taken up by another. There was a TV in the front, in the back of where the driver was. There was a small conference window above it should you need to talk to the driver. There was a small fridge to the side of the TV.

Harry climbed in after me, and turned to lock the door so no-one could walk in on us. He placed the keys in a small container attached to the side of one of the sofas so he could find them afterwards, and turned to me.

“This is so cool,” I whispered. He smiled, and moved closer to me. Cupping my face in one hand, he leaned in and kissed me again. I pushed against him, my hands sliding up his chest and curling round his neck. His other one slid down, and gripped my t-shirt, easing it up.

We had to break away from him to pull it off, but the kiss resumed almost straight away, even more passionately than before. I pulled his tie off, and started on the buttons of his shirt. I managed to shove it off as he laced kisses down my jaw, and I felt his muscled arms under my fingers.

I kicked off my shoes, and undid my belt, shoving down my trousers and removing my socks. Pulling back, he followed suit, giving me time to swing my legs up onto the soft leather so he was sitting between my legs and we both had easier access to one another.

He lowered his mouth to my neck, kissing it softly. He bit and sucked the skin above where the pulse was racing frantically. He scraped his teeth over my tattoo, and his mouth closed over one of my nipples. I gasped as his tongue circled the bud, teasing it until it stood to perfect attention. He blew over it lightly, before turning his attention to the other one.

A slow, sensuous moan tumbled from my lips as I trailed my hands up his spine. He looked up at me, and I met his lips, kissing him deeply. “I need-” I murmured breathlessly, brushing a strand of hair out your face. “I need to feel you inside me, Harry. Please let me.”

“Why are you being so polite about it?” he asked.

“You’re upper-class,” I pointed out. “I figured that swearing at you and demanding that you do it wouldn’t get me anywhere.”

“Demand,” he told me. “Demand it, Dougie.”

My fingers hooked into the waistband of his boxers, “Fuck me, Harry. I want you to fuck me until I come screaming your name. I need you to hit my spot until I can’t see anymore. I don’t want to think, I just want to feel you.”

He let out a low growl and kissed me ferociously. I pushed his boxers down as far as I could, and he took them the rest of the way. Then he pulled off mine eagerly and threw them to the side. He broke away from me.

“Fuck me, Harry,” I told him again. “Fuck me until I can’t talk, I can’t move, I just have to succumb to you.” I took his hand, and brought it up my lips. I kissed his fingertips, before taking three of his fingers into my mouth. My tongue roamed over them, soaking them in my saliva. I released them back to him with a final whisper: “Fuck me.”

He parted my legs even further and boosted my knees up slightly. He slid a finger into me. I winced slightly, and he gave me an apologetic glance. I smiled at him to assure him it was okay. He eased another one into place, the added length of his middle finger meaning he brushed against my prostate.

I moaned at the sudden burst of pleasure. My head dropping back slightly as I relished it, ignoring the sense of discomfort that was beginning to creep back in. He shifted another one into place, and I moaned again as he brushed the spot again.

He slid his legs under my raised knees so he was closer to me, and pulled out his fingers, immediately moving his rock hard penis into place at my entrance. He slid in slowly, and I shifted slightly so I could accommodate him properly. He filled me completely, and then moved back slightly before thrusting in.

The pleasure was immediate. I moaned even loader than before, throwing my arms round his neck and pulling him even further into me. Placing my cheek on his, I felt him move back and thrust in again.

There was no sense of being hurried, and he took his time, retracting slowly, then thrusting back in quickly, making me make even more noise of pleasure, murmuring nonsensical promises in his ear as he made my whole system shudder with heavenly feelings.

My vision was blurring more and more with every thrust, and my breath was becoming shallower with each retraction. “Dougie,” he whispered in my ear. “You feel so amazing.”

“Harder,” I demanded. “Make me scream.”

He obeyed, and the pleasure only increased as he slammed into me as hard as he could. The muscles in my stomach clenched as I came over both of us with a scream of his name. My scream made him gasp, and he ejaculated harshly deep inside me.

He pulled out of me and kissed me softly only more, before kissing down my jaw, across my neck and down my torso, licking up as much of my come as he could find. I lay back on the leather so he could do this with more ease.

He kissed my stomach lightly, and moved back up so I could see his face. “You’re gorgeous,” he told me. His mouth met mine again briefly, then he rolled off.

I giggled, “Though not gorgeous enough you want to stick around.” I turned my head to watch him as he crawled along the floor of the limo to something out of sight behind one of the other sofas. I heard the sound of water. “No way! You have a tap!”

“You’re so easily excited,” he remarked. He moved back into sight with a basin and a flannel. He dipped it in the water, and began to clean himself off.

“Wait,” I told him. I slid down off the sofa, and moved over to him. I took the flannel out of his hand and dipped it back into the warm water, before using it to clean his torso for him. “I made the mess, I’ll clean it up.”

“Well, isn’t that nice of you,” he said with a grin. I nodded, making him laugh as I dragged it across his abs. He took it back, and used it to clean me up, and then put it back in the basin. I leaned in to kiss his shoulder, dragging my teeth across it. His lips met mine once more.

“I should be getting back in,” I whispered.

*****

“Poynter, where the hell have you been?” Stacey Mackenzie demanded, jogging up to me as I entered the hall again, irritation in her low, broadly Scottish accented voice. “We wanted you to do the last dance.”

“Sorry. I needed some fresh air,” I lied. She rolled her heavily lined dark blue eyes. She didn’t look like she would fit in here at all, with her black band t-shirt and dark jeans. Her hair was shoulder length, and cut choppily with a side parting so the front section she’d dyed black hung in one eye. She was tall and slim, with prominent cheekbones which accented her large eyes.

“Why? You haven’t done a single dance since we got here,” she remarked incredulously. Deryck Wheer came up behind her and whispered something in her ear. “Oh, no,” she muttered, jogging off.

“She didn’t see you doing the Military Two-Step earlier on.”

It took a moment for it to register that Deryck had spoken. I was in a momentary state of shock. I’d lived with him for just over a year, but I’d never heard his voice before. Deryck valued the sound of his voice, and so only people whom he knew, liked and trusted ever heard it. This means I’d taken the final step, and I was ecstatic. There was definite London in his voice, and he had a slight lisp brought on by his tongue piercing.

I turned to look at him, “You saw?”

“Yeah, you almost had the hang of it as well, but then he dragged you off,” he let out a condescending sigh. “And you always looked so well-behaved…”

I snorted in amusement, “Like you can talk? You have a different girl every night…”

“Yes, but I’ve never picked one up at a ceilidh,” he remarked. “And I know that I’m the equivalent of an unpaid slut.”

I turned to look at him. On the outside, Deryck Wheer looked like one of the most innocent people I had ever met. He was short, and slim, with a young looking face and floppy blond hair that fell into his icy-blue eyes from beneath his black beanie hat. However, looks were not always reality, as Deryck had to be one of the most twisted people I had ever met.

“This was the first time I’ve ever done that.”

“What? Met someone and screwed them in the space of half an hour?” he asked. I winced at the crudeness of what he was saying, but it was the truth.

“He screwed me, actually.”

“Details,” he said carelessly, waving a hand. I giggled. “The point still remains that you went with a random and let him screw you in the back of a sexy, black limo.”

He jaw dropped, “How did you-?”

“He’s an entertainment scout,” he told me. “Works on all levels. Sports, music, drama. I’ve encountered him a couple times.” He rolled his eyes at the look on my face, “Not like that, you sicko. He came to see the band a couple times, and he’s showed up at a couple of our skate demos. Kenz’s always taken care of him.”

I looked over to where Stacey was messing around with the other two. Nineteen years old, and she still couldn’t behave herself in public. “I didn’t know that. I wondered about the limo.”

“He’s a big deal,” he confirmed. “And you’ve slept with him. That’s an achievement.”

“Take your partners for the Gay Gordons!”

Deryck sent me a sidelong glance, “You gonna dance this one, or sit out?”

I watched Harry walk into the hall, and grinned over at him, “I may dance. I’m starting to like ceilidhs a little more… Sorry, though. For the Gay Gordons, I already have a partner in mind…”