Danny Boy, Danny Boy

As we take a taxicab doontown tae Miz's gaff, (Miz, that's my new Dutch friend, by the wey) it's pouring ootside... Cats an' dogs, man, cats an' dogs.

..Ah fuckin hate cats an dogs.


The droplets ay rain oan the side window slide horizontally as the driver speeds up an' the wind rushes past, pushin thum backwards. Ah imagine thum being spermia searching desperately fir the egg.

Ah'm like thum: Desperate. Huvnae hud a fix since yesterday an' wi all the work an' aw kinds ay shite it's really tearin oan ma nerves. Fuck getting clean, this is unbearable. Ah bet ah look like shite, too. Spud looks surprisingly good tho, ah doubt thit he even needs the fix. Prob'ly slept the abstinense oaf, an' he wisnae even awake tae feel it, the bastard... But thin ah realize jist how crazy thit sounds - Spud'll nivir git oaf the smack, no even accidentally an' involuntarily. Ah'm jist jealous cos the cunt looks sae bloody good right now - well, compared tae masel, anywey.

He's whistling tae hissel now, an' it's driving me crazy, no tae mention the taxidriver. Nae jist cos it's annoying, but cos ma ears are oan the "super sensitive"-button, an' his whistling sounds like an air raid, a brass band, a Hibs match gone fae bad tae worse, a rave party, an' a fuckin Italian opera all at once.


....Figaro, Figaro, Figarooooooooooooooo.............


Only two blocks tae go now.

Ah literally throw masel oot ay the taxi whin wir thair. Ah make Spud wait in the taxi while ah git the stash, which works oot fir aw ay us: a) he can keep the driver company (even tho he dunnae speak dutch, ehheh), b) ah git the chance tae escape fi his infernal whistling, an' c) uhhh... etcetera.

Despite masel, ah run up the stairs tae Miz's flat, an' knock oan his door like a wildman even tho ah ken perfectly well thit he has a doorbell. The fist is mair authoritive, ah think, an' ah really feel like being authoritive rite now. It takes a while before he answers, an' ah stand thair wondering whit the fuck is haudin 'um up. Whin he finally daes open, he looks like he's jist goatten oot ay bed. Oops. Firgot aboot the time, it's like, 8 in the mornin, an fuck kens nae real junkie is ivir up before at least 2 in the afternoon. He stares at us fir a wee sec wi' a vacant stare, as if tae process the information his currently detached brain is takin in, an' thin closes the door wi' a hard clank. The thick concrete walls make the sound ay the door closing echo through the vast space, an it sounds sae damn menacing, as well as making ma heid hurt even mair.

Ah dunno if ah shud go or stay tae see if he comes back, sae ah linger thair fir a while. Whin ah'm aboot tae jist give up an' go, he comes oot. He's goat a tiny aluminum-packet between his index- an' middlefinger, as if he ken exactly whit ah came thair fir. Ah try tae snatch it oot ay his hand, but fir a sleepy junkie, he's pretty quick, an' his hand jerks oot ay ma reach. Fucking tease.

"Monny first," he seis in his broken English, holding oot his free hand.

Ah dig intae ma poakit, finding a few crumpled bills. Ah've goat jist enough oan me.

"Zank joo," he sings as ah hand um the dosh.

"Is thair enough fir two in here??" Ah ask um. Can't weit tae git oot ay here an' just shoot this fucker up ma veins.

"Yeah," he seis. He's goatten a sigarette oot ay his trouser pocket now, an' is lighting up wi' a lighter shaped like a nekkid lady. Ah think it's time tae leave.

"Vy, haff joo got a date or somezink??" he sort ay shouts as ah'm makin ma wey doon the stairs.

"Aye," ah answer, wi'oot thinkin aboot the question first, ay course.

Whin ah git doon tae the taxi, Spud is talking a hole in the heid ay oor driver, despite the fact thit the driver kinnae speak english fir shite... Come tae think ay it - nor kin Spud. His english is an entirely different language, it's even beyond the regular scottish.........it's just...sort ay.. "Spudish", ah guess. "Cum oan now, Rent Boy, git in here," he laughs stupidly. Obviously he's no as fucked as ah am, cos he's still smiling, somehow. Ah'm sure as hell no, thit ah kin tell youse.


Well at hame, we shoot up, an heid fir this really seedy nightclub jist a few blocks awey fi here. At the nightclub, the oweraw atmos is completely spoiled by an exhibitionistic fucker wi a guitarcase, clearly fancying himself whair he stands oan stage, ruining a couple ay perfectly fine Reed-tunes wi his shreiking, tonedeaf, pre-pubescent shite-fir-voice. It's uncomfortable. It's embarrassing. We git the fuck oot ay thair, an' heid fir an, if physically possible, even seedier nightclub jist doon the street.

Even tho it looks like a bombed bordello, ah must admit this nightclub has goat sum fucking soul. Ergo: no guitarist wanker wi too much self esteem tae match his crappy singing. Jist acid house, loads ay females, an' juices flowing (natural AN' chemical, mind you).

Spud gits intae it ivir sae quickly, an' ah wave tae 'um ower the dancing people. He's dancing wi hissel, wi naeone else, an' ah find masel being extremely amused by his... special sort ay dancing. A random girl comes up tae me an' slips us a disco biscuit before disappearing intae the night. Ah take it, as anay junkie in his right mind wud, an' mixed wi' the scag fi a while ago, ah get a really fuckin sweet experience...

Ah kinday dunnae like dancing, but this high is too good tae be wasted oan standing thair like a fuckin twat, sae ah walk intae the crowd. Everyone is writhing aroond me, halfnakid, an' it's affecting us. Ah dunno whithir ah'm high on the E, the skag or jist life, but it feels good, an' it feels like ah'm gunna explode in ma keks. This is a great time fir a shag, ah thinks, an' the mere thought ay jist being in the act, jist doing it, wi' anayone, anyaone at aw, makes us stiff.
Ah look ower the crowd once more, an' ah see nae boys an' girls - jist wankers. Wir aw become jist wankers now.

Ma strange illusion is disturbed by Spud throwing hissel aroond ma neck, kissing me oan the mouth. It's really wet, thit kiss.
Ah'm taken aback by this, as anayone wud be, but thin ah see it's jist Spud, it's jist ma mate thair, kissing me like that.

He daes thit. Nae biggie... He jist daes thit.


He still has yin ay his arms aroond ma neck, still jumping up an' doon, trynna bring me intae the groove.... or whitivir. The house music is sae damn loud, ye cudnae hear a fuckin thing thit wis seid, no even wir ye fuckin Superman wi' his supersonic hearing.

Ah'm getting increasingly hornier, ah kin feel the friskyness creeping up oan me like a tiger in the bush, an' involuntarily ah start grinding oan Spud's thigh. (Whit kin ah sey?? It's been a while...) He daesnae notice, jist keeps oan swaying, an' ah suspect 'um ay having a bit ay E as well. Tae git closer, ah grab his neck wi' ma hand, an' slip ma other aroond his waist. Ma heid rests oan his shoodir, an' he pets ma short-trimmed, amber hair wi gentle care.
Ah catch masel smelling 'um. (The boy smells better than he shud, maybe he showered taeday??) Anaywis, his scent makes ma knees feel like jelly, an' as if thit wisnae enough fir 'um, his hands starts rubbing ma groin through ma trousers... Ah look up at 'um wi grateful eyes an' we kiss agin, nae, maire like eating each other up, an' we baith firgit aboot the two ay us being best mates, aboot us being baith men, aboot us being less attractive tae the female sex, cos tae each other wir beautiful, we dunnae need thum, we firget who we are, wir no Spud and Rents anaymore, wir jist Danny an' Mark, we firgit aboot everything, we figit aboot Leith, Edinburgh, Scotland, Britain, Franco an' Sick Boy an' the shite we ken they'd gie us if they wir tae ken aboot this, Hibs, oor mothers' hame made cooking, the skag trouble, the stealing, the virgin days, the beatings received an' the math teachers we hated. It's jist US an' E an' AMERSTERDAM.


Ah bite ma lip no tae make a sound whin he slips his hand intae ma keks, grabs ma cock an' starts wankin' it. He kens whit ah want, possibly maire than ah ken masel. No long after, ah cum in ma keks an' oan his hand. Ah dinnae even try tae haud back.
Ah grab his sodden hand an' guide 'um intae the men's room, leading 'um further intae yin ay the stalls, whair ah make 'um drop his trousers fir me. He looks nervous fir a wee sec, but whin he sees ah'm going doonstairs oan um, as opposed tae his obvious expectations ay me bending 'um ower an' giving it tae um dry....... No yet, though, no yet. Ah want this step by fuckin step, Danny Boy.


Ah've done this before. It's no easy. (thir's a reason they call it a blow JOB, ken?)

Ah pull oot his cock, an' it's hard, surprisingly long (longer than mine... NADGERS.) an' sort ay thin. The latter will make it easier fir us tae fit it in ma mouth, but the length ay it is tricky... Ah decide tae give 'um whit he wants an' jist give 'um a total deep throat. It's the least ah kin dea fir 'um. It's sort ay an apology fir bailing oan 'um... an' fir cumming in his hand..

Whin he feels ma moist an' warm mouth surrounding his flesh, he makes a whimpering sound wi' closed lips, an' falls back taewards the wall. "Cheeky Monkey..." ah hear 'um sey euphorically, wi' a slight hint ay tremor. This is the motivation ah need tae dae the job. If he wir tae be completely untouched an' oblivious tae this, ah wudnae huv bothered. But this is great tho, he moans like the little bitch he is. Lovely.
Ah never stop sucking 'um, takin 'um in, inch by inch, an' ah feel 'um starting tae thrust intae ma wet orifice. Ah've nivir done deep throat oan anayone before, ah've done a regular fellatio, yeah, but nivir a deep throat. Yet, it's quite simple, tho, it's jist thit ye huvtae learn how tae control yir gag reflex, an' take the length in as slowly as possible.... the slowing ay the process is no only fir yir own physical benefit, it's also cos seeing someone suffer like thit is too much fun.

He's grabbed ma heid at the back, and started really thrusting. Luckily, ah huvnae goat the long hair fir um tae haud oan tae, sae he kinnae git a good enough grip tae gain control ower us. "Mark," he seis, breathing like an asthmatic. Ah dunnae usually let blokes call me Mark, but ah like the wey he daes it, he sounds a lot like a bird ah used tae shag back in the day....

"Mark, ah think ah'm cummin, man.."

He makes the maist crazy sound whin ejaculating, really orgasmic, an' it makes me a thousand times hornier thin before. Ah swallow his load wi nae a thought ay the matter.. ah'm high as a kite, fir fuck sake.
Whin we baith git cleaned up by the restroom sinks, ah realize ah want tae git maire E, go hame, an' shag the night awey wi um.


.....Well, fuck me.


This is it. Ah finally found 'um. The man who will take ma homosexual virginity.

(Ok, sae ah hud thit thing wi Gi, but hey; thit wis an act ay despair, fir sure. Dosnae count fir shite. After aw is said an' dun, ah still consider masel a virgin whin it comes tae this kind ay stuff.)


..Ah wonder if he's as inexperienced in thit field as masel? Ah mean... six months in Saughton..... prison has it's price, ken?


Ok dunnae think like thit, Rents. Bad thoughts.

This whole thing is sae strange, cos ah nivir looked at 'um this wey before. Ah guess it's like thit sumtimes, yir aroond someyin fir ages an' ye nivir really notice thum in thit kinday wey, and then suddenly, boom!, jist oot ay the blue it dawns upon ye thit yuv been dealing wi' a precious treasure aw along... Ma auld mate Spud Murphy being a "precious treasure" may seem pretty far fetched tae anayone else, but by the way his physical presence - let's say his VERY physical presence - is sending shockwaves tae ma groin, ah must say thit statement makes sense tae me.

..His arse looks sae delicious in thum tight denims.

Whin we git oot ay the bathroom, he's dancing his wey oot, obviously still high... Ah'm no, tho. Ah'm getting nerves..... Ah still want tae shag um tho. It's jist thit, ah'm afraid he wudnae want tae, an' ah'll jist sit thair like a wanker wi' ma dick in ma hand. This is why ah huvtae git maire E. Tae last the night. Cos ah AM getting a shag oaf this wee tartboy, nae fuckin doubt.... Jist goatta find sum E.

Ah see the girl wi' the blue pills. We make eyecontact. She strolls ower tae me, an' it feels like ages before she gits here.

"Hello there," she seis politely an' jist a tad bit teasing.. Thank God, she speaks English.

"Yeah... um, got any maire ay those disco biscuits, likes?" ah ask her nervously.

Spud is standing a few yards awey, swaying back an' forth. "Whair are we going, Rent Boy... Ah wunna daaaance........." Ah dunnae like the fact thit he's stopped using ma real name, let alone starting thit Rent Boy shite agin. If he wants it thit wey, ah'll start calling 'um Scruffy Murphy whin ah'm fuckin um, see how he likes THIT.

The girl seems tae no huv goatten ma question, cos she sort ay shakes her heid stupidly at us. Either it's cos ay the obscenely loud house music, or cos ay ma obscenely incomprehensible dialect. Ah'll try tae rephrase:

"DO. YOU. HAVE. SOME MORE. EEEEE." ah yell through the thumping ay the music.

"I have some meth," she yells back. But that's no helping us. No at aw. Ah dunnae want meth an' git a floppy prick whin ah'm aboot tae git a ride, ah want E, fir fuck sake, E..!!

"I have money," ah tell her in ma maist perfect Oxford english. She seems tae be getting whit ah'm seying now. "I want ECSTASY."

She gies in, an' ah pay her up wi whitivir she wants fir it, be it fucking 50 mill. gylden, ah cudnae really huv given a shite at thit point, but luckily it wisnae thit much tho. Ah jist want tae git hame as soon as possible, before Spud, ma Boy Toy fir the evening, gits oaf it an' starts wondering why ah'm touchin 'um in funny places.


Whin we make oor escape fae the nightclub, the girl looks, fir sum reason, kind ay disappointed. It dun hit us before ah git intae the taxi wi Spud, thit she mightuv hud sumthing in mind fir the two ay us, me an' her... Sorry lassie, this is Guy's Night Oot. Ye'll huvtae wait yir turn.

Besides.... she wis kinday oan the chunky side.


Spud's no, tho, he's a fucking skeleton man. Ah kin feel his sharp hipbones through his tight denims as ah, rather violently, caress his entire anatomy and practically gnaw at his face in the backseat ay the taxicab. Ah like it. A LOT. The driver, oan the other hand, looks at us wi disgust, but ah flip um oaf an' tell 'um tae keep his cockeye oan the road. Ah also ask 'um if he's jealous, an' thit's the point whin he stops the car an' throws us baith oot.

Luckily, it's only like 300 metres 'till wir at ma gaff, sae it's no a long walk thair. Ay course, wi oor speed, seeing as wir still suckin face aw the wey an' stumbling aroond haplessly in the process, it takes us aboot 30-40 minutes tae git thair.


Ah watch his wee arse as we move upstairs tae ma flat. He's wobbling along oan his skinny matchstick legs, an' ah notice jist how oot ay it he really is. This is going tae be sae easy...

It's funny: not until wir in the hall an' ah'm frantically unbuttoning his shirt, dae ah notice thit the shirt he's pit oan fir the occasion, is the same yin he had oan whin ah saw 'um the last time, whin ah left 'um behind in London. Ah start tae feel bad again.

"Ah'm sorry."

"Fir whit?" he smiles, an' continues drinking fae the bottle ay premium Lithuanian beer ah bought 'um at the club. He's goat an even mair dozed look now. If ah dinnae ken any better, ah'd sey he wis fallin asleep, but nae - as mentioned before, he's jist like thit by nature.

No getting an answer fae us, he slips awey fae ma grasp, an' goes tae lie oan the couch.

His shirt is open, exposing his skinny torso, an' now he's stretching oot. Fucking tease.
Ah go tae join 'um, an' hand 'um his share ay the chemical treasure. He stares blankly at the tiny blue pill fir a second, like he's too tired fir another go. Too tired ma fucking arse.

"Cum oan, Spud Murphy nivir seis nae tae a buzz, daes he??" ah coo. "Open yir mouth, Love. Swallow it, cum oan now."


He daes.


An' ah dae.