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46
Ialmost gag, it’s so strong. “What is it?” I splutter, and Finlay laughs at my expression.
“Sambuca!” he answers gleefully, and starts dancing like the music’s compelling him to. “C’mon, sassenach! Dance wi’ me!”
I’m not nearly drunk enough for this, but I fall, laughing, into Finlay’s outstretched arms. He guides me deeper and deeper into the crowd, until we’re so close to the pulsating speakers, to the thudding music, that we’re almost the first to hear it. I make out the black booth behind which a serious-looking DJ intently mixes tracks, the wizard of music we worship tonight.
It’s dark here, the people around us erratic shadows as the lights skim past the true believers and flash the crowd behind us. Finlay takes my hand and together we dance. I laugh, throwing my head back, feeling exhilarated, as the taste of alcohol burns bright in my mouth, as it shimmers down my veins like manna.
The others slide between the crowd and eventually reach us. We’re all dancing and it’s awkward but kinda funny. I’ve never seen the others dance before, but Danny actually has some pretty neat moves, which seems to surprise Luke most of all.
At some point, Finlay, the dark angel he is, gets us more drinks. In fact, the drinks keep coming. I get a head for sambuca and spirits. I lick salt off my fist and bite into a lemon and almost vomit at the combination, but I drink and I drink and I drink until my head feels like a balloon soaring away from my shoulders, leaving only my heart behind.
I dance energetically with Danny and a pair of newly acquired glowsticks, our hands joined, our other arms raised, legs kicking out like we’re about to do some mad Highland jig. I laugh like I haven’t done all year. As I slump against Danny, happy and breathing him in, Luke guides me upright so I don’t topple over completely. I grind against Luke’s hands, curving behind my neck so that I can reach out and touch Luke behind me, until both Danny and Luke are trapping me, holding me secure, with their hands on my body, with their breaths on my neck, just like waking in bed with them the previous day but better.
Danny hugs me, and I bury my head in his shoulder, pressing a soft kiss to his pulse point that makes him stop moving. He watches me carefully through soft brown eyes and gathers me closer to his chest. In response, Luke does likewise, grabbing hold of my waist and throwing etiquette to the wind by leaning into me, by digging his thick erection into me.
The three of us together… it feels like slow-melting snow, like we’re each coming together, melding into one singular unit on the dancefloor. I arch my head back and lean against Luke’s shoulder. Danny mutters things to me in the dark, things I can’t make out, but my tipsy head is away with it, thinks it’s unimportant, that the only thing that matters is touch — to be and to do.
From my angled position on Luke’s shoulder, I make out Rory and Finlay through the shadows, their heads bowed toward each other, discussing something intently as they watch me. I smile at them, wishing they could be here beside me, wishing they were much, much closer to me, and maybe, even, inside me…
The song switches from something sweet and poppy to a lustful fury of electro-synth beats. I dance between Luke and Danny, my eyes on Rory and Finlay. I dance hard, performing what feels like my best moves ever, my hips undulating between boys, inviting them closer and closer with the twists and turns of my body until, finally, all hands are on me.
I don’t know how long we spend in the club, but it feels like forever. Yet it still seems like a blip, a glitch, in a world dominated by discussions on constitutional monarchy, debates on devolution, federalism and independence, the neoliberal agenda, and the consequences of free-market capitalism.
Dancing… is more my arena.
And so I dance. I dance for them, feeling it in my heart, the thunder of my desire, the thrum in every pulsating bassline, the music that triggers the magic. I dance for them, for my boys, for all the eyes secretly watching me on the dancefloor as I strut my stuff like an angel whose wings have finally been unbound.
“You’re beautiful,” Rory whispers to me, his warm breath brushing my cheek. I’m amazed I can hear him over the screaming stabs of synths, but then I realize I’m always listening out for him to satisfy my hunger for whatever Rory deigns to share from his mind with his voice.
I don’t stop moving but Finlay muscles in slightly, pressing a teasing kiss to my neck. Shivers scatter down my body.
“Let’s get fucked,” he says with serious relish, and I stare after him curiously as I grind my hips against them all. It already feels like Iamfucked, with a brain full of booze and spreading myself open on a dancefloor for men’s entertainment.
Out of nowhere, Finlay plucks out a small white pill and places it near the tip of his pink tongue. He gives me an intense look and mutters, “Kiss me.”
“What is it?” I ask, suddenly nervous, still swaying between Luke’s arms.
“Ye dinnae have tae take it,” Finlay assures me. “I’ll take the first one. But I need a fair lass’s kiss tae help the medicine go doon.”
My blood is sizzling at this request. I’ve never done this before, kissed one of the chiefs in front of all the others, and definitely not like this, sexual and burning, with intent and desire whispered in every breath. They all surround me, they all touch me. And right now my gaze is caught on Finlay’s mouth, on the small pill concealed by the devilish smirk playing on his lips.
Finlay leans forward and pauses, giving me the option to refuse. But if anything, I accelerate and the world accelerates along with me, craving a hot, slick kiss with every fiber of my being, falling into the sensation of fingers tightening around my body.
The kiss is a dark, unchaste beast. In the shadows, corrupted by heady, biting, industrial music, Finlay and I meet mouthward with a wildness more akin to a fight. He reaches around my neck to pull me closer, lips crushing, tongue sloping around mine. My body convulses with intensity, lust rocketing straight to my core. I don’t breathe at all; my head becomes woozy. I’m glad to be caught between Danny and Luke and held upright, because right now, with my knees about to buckle, I think I’m close to collapse.
When the hardness of the pill glances off my tongue, I think about it. I think about the freedom of losing my head completely, and it feels as welcoming as a long soak in a warm bath. Especially surrounded by the others. Here, I feel powerful; I trust them all implicitly. But I don’t want to be the first to take anything, and so I push the pill back toward Finlay, always the most adventurous, who swallows it while kissing me.
He pulls away from me, pupils blown in the dark, mouth slack and lips glittering with slickness. A boyish smile tugs on the corners of his mouth, and I think to myself he looks ravished already, that I did that to him. That I’ve made him lose himself almost as much as every substance he’s consumed tonight.
Finlay gives me a giddy laugh, leaning forward. “If I gie ye another,” he says, eyes fierce with intensity, “will ye pass it ontae Rory?”
I stare at him, not understanding his meaning. But he picks out another pill, places it on his tongue and kisses me fiercely. It’s not a kiss for me, I realize distantly, as my toes curl with pleasure and lust fires down my body. It’s a kiss for ever-watching Rory, who’s close enough to observe the flash of our connecting tongues, to hear the pleading groans being mercilessly dragged from my throat.
I take the pill into my mouth, drawing it close to my cheek, and Finlay breaks away from me with a full-blown grin. I gaze up at Rory, suddenly motionless. My heart thunders in my ears as I watch him, study him, yearn for him. I want him to kiss me. God, do I want him to kiss me in front of the others.
Rory’s eyes flick to Finlay’s fingers, and he murmurs something I can’t detect. But Finlay quickly springs into action, holding another pill aloft. He tilts his head to the side, his gold-tipped hair spilling across the crude slash of his neckline, the strands long enough to snake beneath his shirt and catch in the glitter of sweat along his sternum.
