He's like the wind

Disclaimer: I do not own Queer as Folk or any of the characters, they belong to Showtime and Cowlip, I also do not own the film Dirty Dancing.

A/N: Okay, I should probably explain myself here... I was watching Dirty Dancing for the millionth time (like ya do), and it occurred to me how amazing it would be in the QAF universe. I just want to clarify that this fic won't be exactly like the film, and this is not crossover, this is just my weird brain doing things LOL. Should also point out that this is a Justin POV fic, unless I decide to change it later on. Hope you enjoy, if you review I will give you a million hugs and kisses x

P.S, in this fic, Justin is from Chicago instead of Pittsburgh and he is 18 years old, Brian is 25. X

P.P.S, Justin has his long hair!

Chapter 1: Who's that guy?

I looked out of the back of my Dad's dark blue BMW X5 as we approached the front gates of the holiday resort. The gates were rather towering, but in a pleasant, white picket fence sort of way. I had just finished my first year of the Chicago Institute of Fine Arts and my parents had decided to treat me and my sister by bringing us to the Pittsburgh Dance and Leisure Park.

"It's the best Leisure park in the state of Pennsylvania." My Dad had declared.

When I had asked him why he would think I would want to attend a holiday about dance, he snapped at me and told me to act in a polite way. I half-expected that my entire holiday would be people holding my chair out for me and me not having to lift a finger to do anything; I sighed. I hated being the son of a middle-class business man.

As we pulled up in the car park I had to smile in glee as I saw all of the people around the place, playing golf in the fields while their children played, their laughter echoing across the grass as they played fetch with their golden retrievers. I'd never been allowed a dog, despite how much I'd wanted one. I'd never really been allowed to run out and play, either. My parents were too busy making me stay inside and attend my piano lessons.

I was terrible at the piano and damn proud of it, too.

"Justin- can you help me get the luggage?" My Mother asked me, as we stepped out of the car.

"Sure thing, Mom." I answered, heading for the trunk. My Mother wasn't as uptight middle-class as my Father was, she knew what it was like to have fun; but her spirit always seemed to get beat down by my Father's controlling nature. I wished that she could say no to him sometimes.

"Nonsense!" A voice suddenly boomed out, before I could even reach the trunk. I jumped back slightly at the voice, but tried to hide it. I looked to see the man who had called out. He approached our family with vast strides. He was a robust man with a giant cheesy grin and wearing a tailor made but poorly fitting suit. My smile dropped immediately as I recognised him. He was my Father's dear, dear friend and he owned this place, that was the reason we were here. Mainly because my Father had made this man rich.

"Craig!" He boomed again, and the two men hugged in a very manly fashion, always manly and never...gay.

My mind lingered on that word for a minute, I briefly wondered how my Father would react if he knew...

I was torn out of my thoughts as the man approached me. "Justin." He said loudly, shaking my hand.

I smiled in greeting and then gestured to the trunk of my Father's car. "Err...nonsense?" I repeated, confused.

He just grinned loudly at me. "A special guest such as yourself shouldn't be carrying the luggage!" He said, in a tone of voice that suggested it was obvious. "Bobby!" He called loudly. A short but cute boy who seemed to appear from nowhere came right up next to me and opened my Father's trunk before I could get a word it.

"Can I help you with that?" I asked, not comfortable standing around and letting other people do the work.

He smiled slightly up at me. "No, thank you, Mr. Taylor. " He answered me politely.

My forehead creased slightly. "Please, call me Justin." I told him.

He smiled shyly back at me, I noticed his boss was glaring at him. "I don't think that would be wise, Sir." He said, before walking off with luggage in hand and leaving me standing by the car alone.

"Son," said my Father, coming up behind me and putting a hand on my shoulder, "the class system exists for a reason, the middle-class does not linger with the lower-class, it's better for everyone."

I sighed, and internally wondered who actually came up with that rule.

My Father's friend, who I later discovered was called Robert Kellerman, began to show us around the resort. My Mother smiled in awe at the things around her, she enjoyed these rest and relaxation places, my 12 year old sister Molly held her hand and looked around politely. This always made me frown, Molly should be allowed to run around and have fun.

"And this is the Spa..." said Mr. Kellerman, pointing in one direction. "And this is the pool..." I looked around the green, calming nirvana and was practically itching in my own skin. There was nothing to do around here. Being an artist, I was creative by nature. And as much as my Mother would love spending a month resting and relaxing by the pool and in the Spa, I knew I would hate it. I wanted to be outdoors, do something energetic, get something done. Not laze around and let the fire in my heart simply simmer.

I knew I had always wanted more in my life, but I didn't know what. I simply wanted something...more.

I suddenly stopped as I heard music, loud music. I turned to see the other side of the park, sectioned of by a gate. I walked up to peer in. It was the same setting as the rest of the park, green grass fields, white gazebo's, that sort of thing. Except this time, people were dancing.

So this was why is was called the Pittsburgh dance and leisure park.

I couldn't help grinning as I saw people, normal people, even some people like my family, taking dance lessons around the greenery, swaying to the music. Some of them were really into it and cha cha-ing and mambo-ing, whilst other couples contently danced with each other. I could vaguely hear voices drifting over the music.

"1, 2, 3, 4, 1,2,3,4, come on ladies! Shake those tail feathers!"

I grinned as I watched one of the dance lesson's I'd been listening too. I couldn't believe I had once thought dancing a boring waste of space. It was energetic and movement, it was almost everything I craved.

"Ah, I see Justin had found the dance section." Grinned Mr. Kellerman, whilst my Mother and Father smiled as they approached the gate.

"What's that?" I asked, intrigued.

"This park is split into two sections-" Mr. Kellerman explained, "this-" he said, gesturing to the side we were on, "is the leisure section, while this..." he gestured to the gate, "is the dance section. We have professionally trained dance instructors who give lessons, or you can just dance yourself. When the holiday club is open in the evening, we regularly take to the floor."

"I think it's an important lesson that every young gentleman should learn to dance like one." Said My Father, he touched my shoulder affectionately, "how would you like to dine in the dance section tonight?"

My smile lit up my face.


So, dinner wasn't as brilliant as I thought it would be.

Granted, the music was a lot more upbeat than the classical-jazz fusion that usually played wherever my family ate, (see, I attended chemistry class, I was always thought that a fusion was supposed to cause a blast.) And people were free to get up onto the dance floor, and it was interesting watching people do all of these dances that I had never done before, but my family still spoke of all the inane things that didn't matter to me. I tuned out their voices and began to sketch idly on my napkin, a couple of dancers in an intimate pose. I disposed of my napkin before anyone could see, not wanting anyone to catch me drawing two males dancing together.

When the waiter came to take our plates away, I made to rise to my feet. "I'll help..."

"Justin, dear, sit down..." my Mother told me.

"But..." I tried to protest.

"Listen to your Mother." My Father instructed firmly. I pursed my lips and sank back into my seat, trying to hide the desperation and frustration I felt.

Soon after the waiter had cleared our plates away, one of the head waiters came out to speak to the crowds.

"Ladies and gentlemen, If I could please ask you to clear the dining area as we will be shortly be setting up for our weekly dance show with our best dance instructors!"

The whole restaurant erupted into applause, I turned to my Mother. "Can we watch?" I begged.

My Father shook his head. "No, Justin, we promised to meet Judy and Richard for drinks, remember?"

I groaned. "Do I have to go? I want to see these dance instructors!"

My Father gave me a stern look. "Do you wish to make us look bad?"

I hung my head. "Of course not, Father." I said, he nodded curtly and I looked up to see my Mother staring sadly at me. Maybe one day she would come through and stand up for me.

"Come along, Molly." She said, as the families and couples on tables around us began to disperse, "we're leaving."

"Yes, Mother." Molly answered, getting out of her seat, as I sulkily rose to my feet, a waiter came up behind me and pushed my chair back in, like I was physically incapable of doing it myself. I refrained from rolling my eyes.

My Mother cornered me and we turned to leave. "You're not going to be crouch all night, are you?" She asked with a small smile. I tried to smile slightly in return. "Of course not." I said.

She turned to leave. "Come along, then." She said gently. I noticed we were the only people left in the restaurant, so I turned to follow my Mother out of the door. I was half-way out until I heard Mr. Kellerman's voice talking to the waiters. "Okay, Craig Taylor is my special guest, so I want his family treated like royalty, you hear me, royalty!" He said harshly, this time I did roll my eyes. "The boy is an art enthusiast, pretend to be interested, woo the wife. Do whatever you have too to make sure they have a good time."

"Do you think you can handle that, boys?"

I suddenly stopped. That voice, that voice had caught my attention. I turned back to see the source immediately. I lingered in the doorway as I watched this new man enter the room, surrounded by people carrying instruments.

I nearly gasped aloud. He was...beautiful.

He had chocolate-brown hair that looked like he had just gotten out of bed, big hazel eyes that lit up his face, and a toned, bronzed, slender body held captive within a tight black tee shirt and tight black jeans, he was tall and slender yet muscular, and I would have guessed mid-twenties. He had a leather jack slung over his shoulder and a slightly cocky but totally adorable grin on his face. He was...he was the hottest guy I'd ever seen in my life.

"Hold it-" Kellerman ordered, stopping the mystery Adonis before he and his band of people could walk through the restaurant. "The entertainment staff." He said with a sneer, "the lowest of the low." I recoiled in my hiding place from the harsh words but the beautiful stranger stood his ground, staring at Kellerman.

This vision of perfection was one of the entertainment staff? One of the lower class? I refused to believe he simply held up lights or cue cards for the performers. I screwed my eyes up in concentration, studying his lithe body more closely before it hit me- with a physique like that...he had to be the male dance instructor. I was suddenly looking at him with a new kind of awe, those dancers weren't low. I had to fight myself not to go and defend this person I didn't even know.

"Okay," began Kellerman, "he has a daughter and a son, you and your partner, teach them anything, the foxtrot, the mambo, anything they pay for...no conversations, no questions asked!" He thundered, turning abruptly and leaving the room.

One of the waiters smirked. "Do you think you can handle that?"

The Adonis turned to the waiter and presented him with that smirk I had already fallen in love with. "Why don't you just concentrate on putting your pickle on everyone's plate and leave the hard stuff to me." He replied in his silky voice, earning a few cheers. The waiter huffed and went to the kitchen.

"I guess we should set up..." said one of the men with an instrument.

"Yeah..." the God agreed, scanning the room. I froze and all breath left my body as his intense gaze landed directly on me. He stared at me for a long moment before the side's of his lips pulled up into a slight smile and he sauntered over to me, he gave off an impression like he was stalking prey, and I was the prey; it scared me how much I liked that. I could feel how graceful this man was when he moved, I was almost aching to see him dance.

He was close to me now, too close. He flashed me a seductive smile, his tongue tracing his top lip slightly. "Are you lost, Sunshine?" He drawled, enough to make me shiver.


"Err...n...no..." I stammered, feeling like an idiot but unable to form a coherent thought.

He nodded slightly and then smiled that smile again. "You 'no-" he began, staring directly into my eyes, "you shouldn't stare at people like that." He informed me, I felt my cheeks burning but his smile only grew wider, I could hear the humour behind his words.

Then, all of a sudden, he leant closer to me, too close. And when his mouth was dangerously close to my own, he whispered; "people might get the wrong idea."

I shivered in what felt like...pleasure. I could feel his warm breath on my lips. And with that, he flashed me another dazzling smile, turned gracefully on his heel and walked back to his crew. I stared, wide-eyed for a moment, getting my breathing back to normal.

It occurred to me that my family were probably waiting on me, and I had no wish to anger my Father. I slipped out of the door and into the cool night breeze, I let my body fall against the wall of the restaurant as I clutched onto it for support; I could still feel the breath of my mystery Adonis lingering on my lips.

I reached a shaky finger up and touched my lips softly.

Who, was THAT?

I snuck one glance back at him through the open door of the restaurant before I headed off to join my parents, wondering all the while, who's that guy? The only plausible conclusion I could come to was that he wasn't a Human, he must have been a fallen angel.

So...what do we think? Where would we like the story to go? Please review with your thoughts, I'm writing totally out of my comfort zone here! xxx