ONE 1 • Up for It: Original Fiction

Up for It

3 people. 2 sexes.

1 thing on their minds…

Fly Boy said:

Ony fliers? For roach. Cheers.

D’ye no ken the lassie? Ye must, man—she’s no exactly hard tae miss! She wis there the Saturday before last, at Luvely, wi that shower that come through fae Bathgate.

Ye shouldae fuckin seen her, but-—whit a body, whit an arse… An her hair, man! Bleached acid blonde, but wi these fluorescent thingies weaved through, ken? Aw changin colour as she danced aboot. Man, she wis blindin. Whit a ride—pure fuckin gorgeous! She’d this top on an aw, camo, but wi black PVC through it—wank-fuckin-tastic!

Onyroad, she’s dancin away wi aw these benders, an the DJ’s givin it some, likesay, pure hard-as-fuck house stuff—no bad really, pretty bangin. Sae Ah’m up dancin beside her, swivellin ma hips aboot, pumpin ma arms in the air. Ah’m off ma nut onyways—yer man’d come through wi pills an charlie, ken?

Sae Ah’m doin aw that fag dancin, pure sweatin too—it wis runnin doon ma face, in ma eyes an that. Ah’m mincin, totally fuckin flashin ma eyelids, poutin, the fuckin works. Ah’m gay as fuck, man—Ah’m like a boy band, gettin intae it, doin that thingmie aw the poofs do with their arms, ken? An these dinner-mashers by me are giein it wee smiles, pervin it. Ye shouldae seen us, Ah deserved a fuckin Oscar…
aw the birds they’ll niver pull just flirt back a wee bit, for show, likesay… Slick as fuck. are meltin their drawers at the thought ae bein pummelled by one ae these benders, hatin the cunts cos they seem happier. Ye can feel the fuckin resentment from the edge ae the dance floor… Sad cunts.

Sae then the lassie looks at me, watches me gettin perved by aw these benders, an Ah could see in her eyes that she thinks Ah’m fuckin gorgeous, but no such a prima donna queen that Ah’d be unapproachable, no the kind ae fag that’s sae fuckin up himsel that if his cock wis a wee bitty longer it’d niver be oot ae his arse…

Eh? Who the fuck are ye callin Bogart, ye shylock cunt? At least Ah’m no a fuckin top-loader. Pass us one ae they tinnies then. Cheers.

Sae she starts dancin wi me, grindin hersel up against me, an the tatt-stroker’s lookin a wee bitty pissed off. An here’s me tryin ma best tae no crack a woody, thinkin nasty thoughts–yer maw bein shagged by Brian Clough, shit like that–but it’s no workin an Ah’m startin tae rise tae the occasion.

But Ah cannae gie the game away just yet–if she susses me, Ah’m fuckin deid–sae Ah tell her Ah’m away tae sit doon for a bit.

Sae there we wis, sat by the edge ae the main dance floor, sharin a bottle ae water. Ye’d hae been well impressed wi me. Just chattin, ken? Birds seem sae relaxed wi poofs. They just treat ye like anither lassie. It’s cool an aw, cos ye see a side ae them Ah swear ye niver normally get tae see as a straight guy. But it’s a shame an aw, cos they’re that much cooler an less nippy when they’re like that. Fuckin brutal, eh?

She’s askin me aw aboot the tatt-stroker–who he is, whither Ah fancy him or no, aw that. Sae Ah play up tae it a wee bit, ken, makin oot like Ah think he’s no bad an Ah ken him a wee bit, that Ah’ve seen him around, snogged him before. Just shite likes. Then Ah steer the conversation back tae hersel–Ah’d wasted enough time settin the scene.

Sae Ah’m sussin her oot a bit, checkin who she’s there wi, whither she’s got a boyfriend, whit she’s dropped–an it’s lookin fuckin sweet. Her fellae’s away oot wi his mates tae Maddogs. She says he hates fag music, an him an his pals winnae even set foot in a club like Luvely. Ah ken the type. Mair fool them’s aw Ah say. Dance wi the herd an dinnae be surprised when ye wake up beside a heifer.

Noo she’s feelin aw safe wi me, Ah reckon the time’s right tae play ma first card.

“Ah just dinnae ken sometimes,” Ah says, “Steven’s really nice tae me, he’s a great guy, gorgeous”–made sure Ah’d awready telt her ma man wis away oot somewhere else tonight–”but sometimes Ah’m just no even sure if Ah fancy him onymair. It’s no that Ah fancy onybody else, it’s just the whole thing, the gay scene, it’s sae fuckin false… Ken whit Ah mean?” An she’s totally lappin it up. Aye, ye might well laugh, ye cunt.

But Ah’m savin the ace up ma sleeve for just the right moment, when Ah’ve been whingin on aboot ma sexuality an ma love life for aboot hauf an hour–aw ma doubts, aw ma heartache. Man, Ah wis gaun tae be gutted if she didnae go for it after the amount ae ground work Ah’d put in. Sae after a while, she’s strokin ma hair, lookin intae ma eyes, totally fuckin gaggin for it, an Ah’ve just spun her the “Ah’ve niver even kissed a girl before” line, when she pulls me towards her an starts neckin me.

We made off pretty sharp after that, back tae her flat. Ye ken yersel there’s no way Ah couldae taken her back tae ma place, she’d hae sussed Ah wisnae a turd burglar as soon as she’d opened the fuckin door, an aw that effort widae been for fuck aw.

The rest, as they say, is history, ma boy. Waiverin Davy strikes another blow for straight guys iverywhere.

Fag Hag said:

Aye, we went tae Luvley. Nah, it’s at The Liquid Room noo. Hadnae been for a while–too many wee straight cunts tryin tae fire in. Fuck’s sake, ken, that’s why we go tae these places–tae get away fae nippy wee neds wantin in yer pants… Aye, Ah ken, fuck’s sake. Ye wantin the rest ae that?

Onyways, we had tae queue for fuckin ages cos that daft wee cow Nicola–Ken Nicola? Wee hinger that’s shaggin Marty Blaine? Aye, tight curls an too much make-up–she’d gone an forgotten her fuckin ticket–left it in her ither coat or somethin–sae we end up staunin ootside freezin oor tits off for nearly a fuckin hour. Ah wisnae well chuffed likes.

Onyway, we were meetin Sparks, Coaly an Andy inside. They’d aw been away doon at The Street wi their mates. But it wis worth it when we finally got intae the place. That Nicola took everyone’s coats an aw, sayin sorry likes. Suited me, we didnae see her again for awmost another hour. Poor bitch mustae had tae queue for ages again. Still, it wis her ain fault.

Took a wee while for Donny’s pills tae kick in, but when Ah wis up, it wis fuckin mental! That boy–him that does nights at Bugged Out–wis playin, guest DJ an that. It wis pretty good, housey maistly, but it got a wee bit too hard house near the end, a bitty too fast for me, but it wis cool watchin aw they gorgeous poofs wi their shirts off–aw muscles, tattoos an sweaty bodies, ken? Jist how we like it!

Talkin ae fit poofs, Ah seen that boy again, Gregor somebody, ken? The boy that aye wears one ae those Cyberdog T-shirts, the ones wi the rubber bits on? He’s sae fuckin cool. Whit a shag–whit a fuckin waste ae a good man!

Gregor wis dancin wi this wee guy for a while, one ae those ned poofs–kind ae cute in a desperate sort ae way. The radge wis tryin tae fire into Gregor. That wee neddy boy wanted Gregor’s cock up him somethin bad. Sae did Ah, but.

Onyroad, Gregor wis pretty much just fanny-baitin again, ken, comin up an dancin with me, rubbin his packet up an down ma back. Ah could feel his cock an balls pure squashin against me–Ah swear ma knickers were soppin.

Sae the evil bastard is gettin me aw horny an Ah’m totally wantin him, but this wee neddy poof that’d been chattin him up suddenly starts dancin with me, daein the same, an Ah swear he cracked a stiffy! Here’s me thinkin, There’s mair tae this one than meets the eye…

Nah, he wis pretty nice-lookin, but ye could tell he wis tryin his best no tae look gay. Shame really.

Sae onyways, Ah end up sittin wi this guy, Danny or somethin, an we get chattin. An ye ken me when Ah’m pilled up–talk tae onybody. Still, he seemed pretty nice after aw. Then he starts goin on aboot his crap love life an that, but Ah wisnae really interested, Ah just wanted tae ken how he kent Gregor–see whit the gen wis on him.

The boy telt us he’d snogged Gregor before, an he kent him a wee bit, but the cunt said his name wis Gary, said he’d tapped off with him before tae–that’ll be right! But, ye ken whit they say, “Ony port in a storm.” An let’s face it, “sailor boy” port is better than Leith Docks. The poor guy starts whingin on aboot his boyfriend an Ah’m feelin masel goin off the boil, sae Ah just fire intae him–just tae gie the cunt a kick-start mair than onything else.

An that wis that–took him back tae mine an converted yet another wayward wanderer fae love’s hairy back alley…

Nah, he wis a bit ae a shite ride tae be honest. Ye could tell he hadnae iver been wi a lassie before. Had tae practically guide the cunt tae ma clit.

Ended up finishin masel off after he fell asleep… Couldnae get him oot the flat fast enough in the mornin.

Next weekend? Is it no Joy? Bet Gregor’ll be at that! Can ye get the whizz sorted?

Aye, ken, they aw end up succumbin tae ma charms in the end.

Shirt Lifter said:

Aye, it wis an OK night. Och, Ah dunno though, it’s no really the same these days–it’s aw straight guys an fag hags… Is this yer weed or Gavin’s? Got the lighter? Cheers, darlin. Ah mean, it’s no as if they dinnae have enough clubs ae their own. Even Joy’s gettin like that. Aye.

Mind when the straights first started turnin up? The bouncers wid ask the guys if they were gay. The schemie bastards mightae been bent, but they werenae fuckin gay. If they were poofs, then Ah’m Mike Tyson… Maybe Ah’ll bite yer ear off!

Then they started tellin them it wis a gay night an they’d just say, “Aye, Ah ken,” an come in anyway. Last Ah heard, the bouncers dinnae even bother askin onymair an just let them straight in.

Paul got us in on the guest list, but we still had tae prick aboot findin Emma tae check our names off. Had ye had much? Ah’d only had half an E an a couple ae lines. Took a wee bit in with me too, for emergencies. Had ma poppers, ae course… Aye, ma body’s a temple durin the week, but it’s in the Lebanon on Friday night!

Onyway, there Ah am–dancin away, checkin oot the talent, gettin the usual come-on’s fae fag hags–when this cute wee neddy poof starts giein me the eye. Dinnae think Ah’d seen him around. Anyway, he asks for a sniff ae ma poppers, sae Ah give him some an start fingerin his tattoo–testin the water, like.

Tae be honest, Ah thought he wis straight at first, but ye ken what they say: “The difference between a straight guy an a gay guy’s aboot five pints…” Aye, well, maybe eight in your case.

Sae there Ah am, dancin away with this guy, but then he starts flirtin with that straight lassie. Ye ken, the one wi the big hair? Fae Livingston or some ither way-oot-west shitehole. Aye, she kens Sparks an Coaly–that’s her. Bit desperate, but nice enough, Ah suppose. Onyway, Ah’m thinkin, This is nae fuckin good. Whit’s the story here? Is the neddy boy battin for the Best or is he battin for the Rest? He’d better no be one ae they greedy bi cunts!

Sae Ah say tae masel, This is one boy that’s got tae decide which side ae the fuckin fence he’s on, ye ken? Anyway, Ah dance beside them for a wee while, an then they go off an sit down by the back stairs. Tae be honest, Ah forgot aw aboot him for a while cos Marshall Amp came on tae dae his set an he wis fuckin blindin.

Onyway, cuttin a long story short, Ah go for a piss an the bogs are pretty busy, but who do Ah see at the urinal but this neddy boy, Donny or somethin, sae Ah squeeze in beside him an say, “Hi,” make sure he sees me checkin oot his cock…

It wis one ae those knobs that wouldnae look oot ae place in a basket with a bottle ae red wine. Onyway, Ah ask him if he fancies a line ae coke in one ae the cubicles, an he goes, “OK,” an follows me.

Then Ah squeeze in beside him an offer him another blast ae poppers. He fuckin snorts it down an cracks this big cheesy grin. Sae Ah take a sniff myself while Ah’m choppin up the charlie an ma head’s like whoa!–Ah grab his hand an put it against ma chest an go, “Can ye feel ma heart pure racin?”–an he’s like, “Aye,” but he doesnae pull his hand away, sae then Ah look straight at him, right in the eyes, an start guidin his hand down.

Sure as shit, he doesnae try an stop me, an the next thing is, he’s got his hand over ma cock, which is near burstin oot ma jeans.

“Can ye feel it throbbin?” Ah say–fuckin Don Juan or what?–an he gulps an goes, “Aye,” sae we start neckin. Then Ah say tae him, “Have ye ever had a swiss roll?” an his eyes narrow an he’s aw cagey like–”A swiss roll?” Sae Ah pull oot ma dick an sprinkle a line ae charlie along it. Next thing, the boy’s on his knees. Didn’t let me bolt in his mouth though.

Sae there’s me back oot on the dance floor half an hour later, feelin smug, sure this boy had been set back on the bent an narrow, when what do Ah see oot the corner ae ma eye? The cheeky wee cunt’s leavin with that acid-blonde bitch!

Just goes tae show, doesn’t it? Ye can pull some ae the cunts aw ae the time an aw ae the cunts some ae the time, but ye cannae pull aw ae the cunts aw ae the time. No that Ah’d wannae, but!

Stefan Pearson’s short stories have appeared in the UK and USA in anthologies such as Nova Scotia: New Scottish Speculative Fiction, Read by Dawn and Ruins Terra. He is also the author of The Chronicles of Vinegar Tom (Bloc Press), a signed, limited-
edition chapbook.