Dust

Kidnapped (10)

Remembering the words as his alarm went off, Fey rushed to get himself cleaned up and put together before work.

"Where ya goin'?" Bear rumbled, the sleep in his voice making his accent more noticeable.

"I've got work," Fey said, pressing a kiss to Bear's lips, and then one to Angel's hair. "Do- Do you want me back here tonight?"

Bear leant on an elbow as he watched Fey. "Of course," then he hummed and smiled. "God, you're so fucking gorgeous. Knowing you show that body off to so many people makes me feel so lucky that we're the only ones who get to see what it can really do."

Fey flushed. "Feather's been complaining that I only seem to enjoy it properly when you guys are there."

"Naughty," Angel murmured, turning onto his back. "I bet you spend the dance wondering what we'll do to you after."

Shrugging, Fey shifted his bag on his shoulder. "I... I just like knowing you're watching me."

"Come back tonight," Angel demanded. "We might not be awake, but I want you to be here when we do."

"Yes, sir," Fey managed, then ran out of the door like his life depended on it.

There were too many emotions in that room for him. His heart felt like it was going to explode, like he'd have a heart attack if he stayed in there a second longer. Face on fire, Fey slid into the taxi he'd called, and went to work, taking a quick line before getting on stage.

Dancing was exactly what he needed. Ambrose was on stage with Feather, and The Hills was playing at a volume that would definitely have the neighbours complaining. There was no crowd participation tonight - just Feather and Ambrose in body glitter and steadily losing items of their clothing until they were down to the bare minimum.

With every pulse of the beat, something in him relaxed, let go of all the emotional labour he would've other had to look at. On stage, he wouldn't think. All he could do was let his body move, let the muscle memory kick in, allow himself to feel the music.

It was a good song to dance to. Just aggressive enough to let him get everything out. Sensual enough that Feather wasn't out of place his mind. They matched each other, beat for beat, and when the song was over, they rolled into the next, as in sync as was possible.

Song after song. They danced until their sweat shone on their skin, glittering where it met the light. Occasionally, they went on the poles, depending on what Dalia wanted, but for the most part, they were enjoying themselves just dancing.

And when Ambrose finally got off the stage, he and Feather were beaming.

"Our ferocious Feather and alluring Ambrose, ladies and gents!" Dalia announced. "Weren't they beautiful!"

Their tips were collected off the stage and passed to them in the changing room.

"What's up?" Feather asked.

Ambrose dropped his head. "One of my men said he loves me. It was a bit intense and I'm still processing."

"Huh," Feather looked like the cat that ate the canary. "Is that right? Mister Emotionally Unavailable is processing the fact that someone other that his brother loves him? Good luck with that."

He spied up at her. "Why are you being such a bitch right now?"

"Because you're not processing," Feather planted a hand on her hip. "You're running."

Running. Yeah, Ambrose had to sigh. That sounded about right.

Back in the main club, Ronan was at the bar, dazzling the customers with his easy smile. Asher was there too, to Ambrose's surprise, sitting at the opposite end of the bar from where Ronan was and gazing at him like he was a unicorn - the fact that Ronan even existed seemed to surprise Asher, never mind how beautiful Ronan was.