^^ Because she messaged me, and encouraged me to get off my lazy ass and write!!;D Gracias, señorita!
I always love to hear feedback, whether in comments, or PM's!
I apologize profusely to those who couldn't read the last chapter! I shall never do that again! D: but vote if you forgive me:)
This chapter was hard to write:( idk why, but I like how it turned out:) vote if you did, too;D
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(Quinn's POV)
"What kind of crazy birthday present is this?! My parents are really sick. It just disgusts me." I groaned, burying my head in my pillow and throwing the photo away from myself.
Heath leaned over me, picking up the picture with interest.
"If you think about it, it's actually quite thoughtful of them. I mean, they're totally against what you are, but still managed to get you this... Interesting present." Heath waved it in my face, making me groan again.
"Look, they even wrote the address on the back! Let's go, please?" Heath pleaded with me, and I grinned inside. Usually, I was asking him for permission.
"Ugh. I guess it wouldn't kill me... It may even be fun." I sighed, rolling out of bed.
Heath cheered happily before following.
* * *
(You aren't supposed to know where they're going... FYI :P)
* * *
As we pulled up to the parking lot, Heath jumped out of the car. I groaned; he'd left me to turn off the car and lock it.
"Heath, come back! If I get lost, I'm just going to walk away!" I screamed into the distance, birds coming up out of the woods at my loud voice.
"Well, hurry up! Men in skirts, dammit!" Heath called over his shoulder, still running to the entrance.
I slapped myself on the forehead; I couldn't believe he'd talked me into this. I hated embarrassing myself like this, but somehow, it always seemed to happen.
And God, Heath was going to embarrass me pretty freaking bad today.
Walking into the entrance made by trees bending towards each other, I stopped dead.
This was NOT like the Celtic Fairs I'd been to in the past.
That's right. Heath had dragged me to a Celtic Festival thing.
The photo? The one my mom and dad had given me? Yeah. It was a picture of a bunch of men wearing skirts and holding bagpipes bending over. Flashing whoever was holding the camera. And there were NO underwear involved.
I shuddered at the mental image, wondering which of my conservative parents had bought the picture. Or taken it. Ew.
Anyways. Back to the real world! This festival... Disturbed the crap out of me. Sort of. Well, yes.
"Heath?! HEATH. WHERE ARE YOU, DAMMIT?!" I shrieked, horrified as three men in very tiny kilts came up to me and started rubbing on me.
This was like... A Gay Festival.
Men were walking around in kilt-thong things, and there were no women in sight.
I saw Heath in the distance, talking to one of the guys running a booth, and started forward, only to be stopped by a tall man.
"ID, please. You have to be over 21 to get in." I stared in shock before pulling out my wallet. Okay, I guess I could go along with this. For now.
After I got in, I wandered over to where Heath still stood. Except now he was holding a kilt-thong. Two of them.
"Please?" Heath offered me one, pleading. I growled at him.
"Isn't it supposed to be MY birthday?"
* * *
(Heath's POV)
Quinn and I paraded around the fairgrounds, sporting our brand new kilts. They even came with the ball-protector, the little pouch that hung in the front of the kilt!
Damn, I loved these festivals. Especially now, since I walked behind Quinn and got to watch his tan back ripple right down to the edge of the fabric around his waist.
I groaned, closing my eyes. I knew this was for gay men and all, but I couldn't walk around with a boner the whole time.
We passed a group of people standing on a stage, playing bagpipes and little flutes. It seemed pretty innocent until we actually listened to the words.
"If we are gay, so are you. We will push our weenies into you! We love to sing and dance and kiss, we love to run... Naked. We are proud and large and strong. Oh. Yes."
I wasn't entirely sure of the words, simply because I was laughing too hard to understand. Quinn had raced on ahead, stopping at an area surrounded by tall curtains.
The sign hanging on the side read: The Mud Show, XXX
What?!
Quinn planted himself in the front row, watching devotedly as three men in thongs walked out into the mud.
. . .
Dear lord. I didn't remember this being part of the Celtic Festivals.
Then again, I've never been to one for gay men.
* * *
(Quinn's POV)
I felt Heath come up beside me, and I ignored him. I was still pissed at him for making me come here.
My mind completely fled from Heath, however, when three nearly-naked men paraded up into the mud pit. Without any introduction, one of them grabbed the other two and started grinding on them both.
Okay...
They sank down into the mud, rolling, kissing, touching.
"Ohh." I heard Heath groan, and felt the wooden bench creak as he bolted away.
He quickly lost my attention again as three thongs came flying out of the mud. I mean, you still couldn't see anything, but really.
"Heath! Come back!" I bailed as I saw one of the men line the other up for entry. That was the final straw.
"No way am I coming back there! You come out here!" I pushed through the curtains to find Heath freaking out.
"See, I think you're the one that wanted to come to this. And now I'm the one enjoying it? I think this is mixed up." I grinned at him, and he groaned.
"Don't talk about enjoying. Or coming anywhere. God." Heath put his hands over his eyes and rubbed his face.
Laughing, I glanced down to see a large lump in Heath's lap. Oh, maybe he actually had enjoyed it. Heh.
Reaching down, I grabbed his hand, making him follow me.
"Come on!"
Pulling him, we raced across the entire grounds, jumping around other men, dodging entertainment places. We finally reached the other side of the park, ending near the horse stables. Which happened to, conveniently, not contain any horses.
"Quinn? What do you think you're doing?!" Heath whispered fiercely at me.
Opening the little gate near the front, I pushed Heath in. He stumbled, landing in the hay.
As I looked at him, I started laughing. He looked pretty funny, all laying there in the hay, sprawled out with his skirt up. Uh. My bad. "Kilt."
"This isn't funny. It's your fault." Heath glared at me, trying to stand up, but I straddled him.
I felt his erection against my thigh, and my breathing became ragged. Rocking my hips, I felt Heath move against me. I raised my kilt higher, making it easier to sit on his lap. Heath gasped in surprise as he realized I wasn't wearing my underwear. Kissing him hard, I unbuckled all of the straps on his kilt, made him stand up, and slid it off. Laying it down on the hay with mine, I rolled down onto the makeshift bed. Flipping to my stomach, I waited for Heath to enter me. Waited some more.
Finally, after waiting for so damn long, I looked up to find that Heath wasn't there anymore.
Wait, what?!
Bolting upright, I pulled my kilt back on, dashing out of the stable, furious. How could he just bail like that while we were getting down and dirty in a horse stable?!
* * *
(Heath's POV)
I was getting ready to slide into my lover's body when they grabbed me.
I mean, really, just freaking grabbed me. There were six of them, and they were no weaklings.
Parading me around in my birthday suit, the six men dressed in full Celtic uniform led me straight to the jail portion of the fair. At least they gave me a blanket to wrap around my waist.
After locking me in the stockade, the men turned their backs on me.
"Come, come! We have the newest show ready for your entertainment!" The largest man bellowed, drawing a large crowd, and I struggled against the wood holding my head and hands.
"He was found without his kilt, and so he shall be now without his kilt."
"Oh, shit, no! I don't like this anymore!" I voiced my opinions very loudly, and wonder of wonders, they all ignored me.
He reached over, pulling the blanket away. The crowd oohed and aahed, and I crossed my legs in shame.
What the hell was wrong with these people?!
"Let me go, dammit! Quinn, where are you, you little asshole?" I hollered in desperation.
"And now, Derek, you may punish our friend for his refusal to remain quiet." The leader motioned a man forward, and the man brought with him... A paddle?
. . .
I did NOT like where this was going. At all.
"QUINN!" I screamed for all I was worth, still trying to wiggle my way out of the stockade they had me in.
"Yes, master?" I heard Quinn's voice echo through the crowd, and I looked towards him.
"Uh, get me out!" I said it like it was the most obvious thing in the world.
"Now, what have you learned here, Heath?" Quinn walked forward, swinging my kilt on his forefinger.
"...What?"
"I said, what have you learned?" Quinn stared me in the eye, raising his eyebrows at me. I knew what he wanted me to say, but be damned if I was going to say it!
The man holding the paddle walked around to stand behind me.
"Alright, alright! I won't make you go anywhere ever again! Now get me out please!" I said, almost sobbing, still crossing my legs to protect my goods.
"Ha. Knew you'd give in." Quinn grinned at me before hopping on stage.
"Ladies and... Uh, well, just gentlemen! I apologize for the inconvenience, but this will NOT be happening today! And quite frankly, you people are very disturbed." Deftly, he turned around and slid the bolt out, letting me stand up as a roar of outrage rose from the crowd.
Quinn grabbed me as I tried to slip on the kilt.
"No time."
So again, we ran through the grounds, but this time, my balls were bouncing like there was no tomorrow. Can I hear an 'ouch'?
Racing out the entrance, we leapt into the car, and Quinn tossed me the keys. Starting the engine, I tore out of the parking lot, still naked.
Quinn twisted around, reaching into the backseat. Producing his jeans, he stripped out of the kilt.
Laughing, I tried to keep my eyes on the road.
"Quinn? Is it really that uncomfortable?"
Eyeing me, he grimaced.
"No, but I don't particularly care for the feeling of a breeze in my pubic hairs."
Our laughter was cut short by the sound of a siren blaring in front of us. Looking at the speedometer, I realized that I'd been tearing down a dirt road at nearly eighty.
I looked at Quinn, who had an equally horrified look on his face.
I happened to glance down just then.
"Oh, shit, babe, we aren't wearing pants."
He slammed his head into his hands as the cop walked up to our car.
"Next time I don't want to go somewhere, let's, uh, NOT GO."
I agreed completely.
* * *
A/N: Bwahhahhaha! That was very fun to write:)
Has anyone ever been to a Celtic Festival? I went last weekend:D it inspired this. Except, well, it wasn't for gay people. Ah, well.
So vote if you liked it:)
Much love!