New Culture, New Year, New Love (3 page)

“There we go! Wee present for you; it looks good, don’t worry.” Trent smiled, rolling his eyes when Andy put his own on, and he realised it was a woollen hat with the Saltire, the Scottish flag of a white “X” over a dark blue background, on it. “And I’ll give you this now as well,” he added, taking a pass on a cord out from his leather pouch – sporran – at his front.

“Thanks,” Trent hung it around his neck. “Won’t you be cold, wearing that?” He had a zippered sweatshirt, a thick coat, gloves, a scarf, and now a hat on, whereas Andy only had his jacket, a sporty-style thing that looked warm and waterproof at least, and reached to his thighs, but that was about it. Apart from the hat, of course. Trent was sure Andy’s legs would freeze, even if he did have knee high socks on. And wouldn’t it get – drafty? Especially if what he’d heard about Scottish men was true.

“Nah, I’ll be fine, it’s not that bad.” He laughed at Trent’s aghast expression. “Besides, there’ll be loads of people there, body heat, right?” He grabbed Trent’s hand again. “Come on, we’ve missed about an hour. It started earlier this year, at nine.”

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New Culture, New Year, New Love S. Blaise

They managed to get through the barrier, showing their tickets, and fought their way through the throngs of people to one of the stages. The main thoroughfare of the city had been taken over for the night. It felt like the biggest, loudest, most hectic concert Trent had ever been to as different styles of music from four stages drifted through the air, mingling with the noise of the crowd.

Many huge lights shone out, creating an artificial daylight that seemed brighter than the real thing, especially at that time of year. He wasn’t even that cold, he realized, as the press of bodies all around him did help relieve the chill, and he was enjoying the proprietary grip Andy kept on his hand as they gradually struggled along.

“Are you sure you don’t mind missing the rest of the party?” Trent asked as there was a lull in the music. Andy shrugged.

“We didn’t miss much, trust me. There’ll be more drinking, more dancing, and my younger cousins will probably end up singing ‘Donald Where’s Your Troosers’ with my Uncle Kenny at some point.”

Trent laughed as he heard the title. “Should I even ask what that’s about?”

Andy grinned. “It’s a funny song. I’ll have to teach it to you. You didn’t mind leaving, did you?”

“Nope,” Trent reassured him with certainty. “I’m really glad I’m here.”

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“Me too.” Andy smiled. “And besides, it’s good to get away from the relatives. I don’t have to behave myself so much.”

“Oh? Are you planning on misbehaving now?”

“We’ll see, we’ll see,” he replied, looking up at Trent while moving closer. Trent held his breath, leaning down ever so slightly. The band started playing a new song; Andy turned his head. “Oh, this song’s great! Come on!” He grabbed Trent’s hand again, trying to get nearer to the stage.

Trent sighed, allowing himself to be pulled along. He probably really shouldn’t be having these thoughts about his boss’s nephew anyway, but he couldn’t help it. He wanted to run his fingers through that wild hair, kiss those lips, now cherry red from the cold, and that accent, God, it was sending shivers down his spine every time the man spoke.

He joined in with the singing even though he didn’t really know the words, feeling reckless and carefree; the infectious excitement of the crowd was getting to him. And Andy still hadn’t let go of his hand.

Andy was still enjoying the music, but Trent had to ask the question about what he’d heard that had been bugging him ever since. “So, the whole thing about Scotsmen and their kilts,” he began, not sure how to continue.

Andy turned to him, mischievous grin in place.

“You’ve heard the saying about ‘true Scotsmen’ then, aye?”

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New Culture, New Year, New Love S. Blaise

“Yeah, something like that. So, is it true?”

He laughed. “I’m tempted to tell you the line that goes

‘no, nothing is worn – everything is in perfect working order’.”

“I was just wondering because wouldn’t it be, well you know,
cold
?”

“It’s not that bad, it’s if it’s windy that you have to be careful. But your concern is appreciated,” he said with a smirk and a wink. “And as for whether I am or not....”

“Maybe I can find out for myself later?” Trent asked, feeling bold.

“Maybe, we’ll see how it goes,” Andy replied with a sly smile. “An toir thu dhomh pòg?”

“Am I ever going to get to find out what that means?”

“Oh, I think so, at midnight,” Andy replied teasingly.

Trent checked his watch. “Hmmm, half an hour to go.

How do I know you’re not just insulting me?”

“It’s not an insult, promise.”

“But why can’t you just tell me now?”

“Impatient much?” Andy raised an eyebrow. “Besides, if I just told you now that would take all the fun out of it.

Now wheesht and enjoy the music, you’ll find out at midnight, trust me.”

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New Culture, New Year, New Love S. Blaise

Trent resisted the urge to protest and did as he was told, and the countdown was being sounded before he knew it. His and Andy’s voices joined the raucous chorus of numbers being shouted, getting louder and louder as the numbers got lower until they reached the final, all important, “ONE!” The exclamation was punctuated by the great boom of the mighty cannon at the castle echoing out towards everyone gathered within earshot. That was when the chorus broke into a cacophony of cries and cheers vaulting skyward with shouts of “Happy New Year!”

accompanied by the sounds of various noisemakers.

The ancient tune also started to be played until practically everyone, friends and strangers, were holding hands and joining in with the singing of “Auld Lang Syne.”

The musicians on the stages led the way with guitar riffs and electric sound systems, but the voices of the people could still be clearly heard. Fireworks exploded and crackled overhead, firing off one after the other in rapid succession, filling the sky with light and smoke, shining brilliantly against the pitch black back drop of the heavens.

“Happy New Year,” Trent said softly, turning to Andy.

“Happy New Year!” he said back, his grin wide.

Trent didn’t think he could wait much more and didn’t really care about who saw or might take offense. If you couldn’t kiss someone on New Year’s, when could you? He moved until their coats were brushing against each other.

He could feel the wool of Andy’s kilt against his hand. He 24

New Culture, New Year, New Love S. Blaise

reached up hesitantly, still uncertain, until Andy’s arms were across his shoulders and around his neck, pulling at him until their lips were pressed together.

It was quite a contrast, the chilly nose against his cheek and the only slightly less cold lips moving in counterpoint to his, but the tongue sliding into his mouth was warm, moving confidently, exploring inside him. He felt like he’d been waiting all night, all
year
, for this, and now that he had it he only wanted more. He let Andy move back eventually, but didn’t let go completely.

“Huh, I know there’s supposed to be fireworks, but not literally,” Trent said, grinning and flicking his eyes skywards as the show reached its finale.

Andy chuckled breathlessly. “Yeah, nice of them to go all out. I guess that answers my question.”

“What question?”

“An toir thu dhomh pòg?” he asked once more, with a smirk.

Trent rolled his eyes. “Okay, it’s after midnight, you are really going to have to tell me what that means.”

“See if you can guess. I’ll give you a hint: you just did.”

Trent thought a moment, running the words through his head. “Something to do with kissing?”

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“I suppose I can give you that,” Andy grinned. “‘Will you give me a kiss?’” he translated.

Trent laughed. “
That’s
what you’ve been asking me? I think you definitely know the answer by now.” His lips sought Andy’s again.

THEY finally joined the crowds slowly heading away from the area as the festivities began winding down. Trent had his arm slung around Andy’s shoulders, noticing again how right the other man felt there, with Andy’s arm around his waist.

“So, where now?” he asked. “I’ll bet getting a taxi will be next to impossible.”

“Aye, probably. We could wait a few hours and take part in the Loony Dook.”

“The what now?”

“People take a quick dip in the Firth of Forth New Year’s morning, dressed in costumes and everything.”

“Well, you got the loony part right,” Trent replied dryly.

“I don’t think so.”

“My place isn’t too far, we could head there,” Andy suggested with a smile. “You could be my first foot, first visitor in the New Year. You even fit the criteria: tall, dark, and handsome. You are supposed to bring coal and other 26

New Culture, New Year, New Love S. Blaise

things as a first foot, but you’re cute, so I think I can make an exception.”

Trent grinned. “Thanks, you’re so generous. I have a feeling the handsome part is probably optional, but sure, that sounds like a plan. Will I get an answer to my other question then?”

“I think something could be arranged.”

Trent slid his hand down Andy’s back, reaching up under his jacket for a quick grope, making him jump. He removed his hand, placing it back over Andy’s shoulder again. He’d been tempted to try and get under the kilt as well, but had decided that would be a little too risky with so many people still around. He leaned in close to Andy’s ear.

“Hmmm ... I don’t think I felt any underwear,” he murmured. “But that material’s pretty thick, it’s hard to be certain. I think I definitely need to make a closer inspection.” He felt Andy shiver under his arm.

“You better watch yourself, or never mind waiting until we’re home, I’ll be dragging you into an alleyway,” Andy threatened – or perhaps promised – with a heated glance.

“It’s still a little too cold for that for me,” Trent replied, though the idea was certainly tempting.

“Don’t worry. I’d soon have you feeling hot.”

Trent grinned, spotting a shadowed, quiet corner and dragging Andy into it for a few more scorching kisses, no 27

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matter how cold they both were. It looked like staying in Scotland wouldn’t be quite so bad after all, and the long winter nights still ahead were actually starting to look pretty good to him now. This was definitely shaping up to be the start of a very Happy New Year.

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New Culture, New Year, New Love S. Blaise

S. BLAISE’S life has been split up like chapters in a book: born in Glasgow, spending her early years in the Middle East, her childhood in the Cayman Islands and then studying in a boarding school in Edinburgh, before eventually completing a BA in Media Studies at the University of Teesside in Middlesbrough. She has crossed the Atlantic more times than she cares to think about and is hoping to discover more of Europe and the Eastern half of the world in the future.

She has loved reading and creating stories for as long as she can remember, but first got into the “male romance” genre through fanfiction. She found slash and yaoi quite by accident (honest!) and began voraciously reading stories online in many fandoms before finally getting up the courage to have a go at writing. This led to writing original stories, so she now has characters of her own, as well as those created by others, in her head, distracting her constantly. Her pen-name is a contraction of her username, or, as she calls it, her online persona name, Silverblaise. She finds it infinitely more interesting and a more suitable
nom de plume
than her real one.

She loves sci-fi/fantasy, murder mysteries, comic books, anime and yaoi manga, which she spends far too much money on while still having so much more to get. She’s a creature of nocturnal habits but really wishes story ideas would stop jumping around in her mind at three in the morning when she is trying to sleep.

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