Show Me Love

---
Right, this is an AU. These characters belong in the medieval/fantast setting of “Shadows in Sun” (also published here), but I wanted to play and this was a way of doing so.
Song lyrics are from Tatu’s “Show Me Love” on their album “200 km/hr in the Wrong Lane”
Reviews and such are greatly appreaciated.
---


It wasn’t the kind of place that Kendel would have chosen to go, had he been able to pick the place he would be spending the evening. But he hadn’t gotten to choose; Randall made the decision for him. The older redhead had gotten tired of the Kendel’s quiet reclusiveness and had made special arrangements for the blonde’s eighteenth birthday—plans he had spent so much time giggling over that Kendel was alarmed long before Randall had taken it into his head to attempt to dress him in leather and lace, as he had earlier in the evening.

“It’s called the Mad Bomber,” Randall said, slipping up beside him and appraising the building through the sunglasses he wore even though it was dark. “Come on.”

The dingy stone building throbbed to the beat of loud, obnoxious dance music, and Kendel was able to smell the strong scents of cigarette and alcohol before they even confronted the large, stern bouncers at the front door. Kendel made a face; clearly this place was intended for the over-21 crowd, so why had Randall even bothered bringing him? He’d never get past the door. He stared up at the fiercely red neon sign above the door and shook his head. Asking “why” of Randall had never gotten anyone anywhere. He could dimly hear Randall’s voice. Thank God Randall didn’t have any common sense. Soon they’d get turned away and Kendel could go home.

Randall grabbed his arm and tugged him forward, much to his confusion and dismay. “What…?” he began, as his hand was stamped and a woman took his coat. “I’m not…”

“Shut up,” Randall hissed, dragging him further in. He glanced back at the door with a pang of longing. “Gerald owes me a favor, so he cut me some slack tonight… but he’d get his ass busted if anyone finds out, so you keep your mouth shut.” Randall stopped and looked out onto the dark dancefloor. How he saw anything through his sunglasses, Kendel didn’t know. All he saw was a mass of bodies writhing and bouncing mostly in time to the pervasive beat under deep blue strobe lights and waves of artificial smoke.

The music rattled through his head and ribs, pounding on and within him like a second heartbeat, driving the air from his lungs. He inhaled sharply, then winced at the pungent stink of cigarette smoke, booze, sweat… the aroma of the bodies not just sweat, but reeking of the alcohol seeping from their skin, body odor, pheromones, colognes and perfumes of all sorts turning the mix into a foul, cloying scent. The air was hot and humid from the press of bodies, the sea of humanity, swaying and dancing; from the exhaled vapors of a few hundred people contained in a small, dark room. Kendel shied like a nervous horse, and Randall looked at him sharply. “Come on.” The red-head moved into the crowd easily.

Kendel, not wanting to be left alone, tried to follow. He was instantly caught up in the mad crush of people, bounced about like a puppet, buffeted by the crowd like a kite in a hurricane. Somehow, he pushed his way out, and stood for a moment, panting. A quick glance told him that he had found the bar, and while it was also crowded, it was not literally packed, which the dancefloor was. He looked about for a seat and finally found one.

The person perched on the barstool next to him looked over, and Kendel scowled at the green eyes, though they reflected nothing but mild curiousity. Kendel thought that those eyes belonged to a man… no, he was sure. Despite the generous eye make-up and longish strawberry-blonde hair that cascaded around the other’s fine, delicate face, the tight vinyl lace-up bodice strained across the breath of a fully masculine chest, revealing its hard planes. A quick glance at the rest of the stranger’s tight costume also showed him to be male, and Kendel looked away, blushing. The blonde wondered briefly how that man had managed to get into those pants without injuring himself.

After another moment, the strange glanced over again, then offered a leather-clad hand. “I’m Fennick,” he said, pitching his voice to carry through the noise, “and I don’t believe I’ve ever seen you here before.”

Kendel glanced at Fennick from the corner of his eye, then sighed and took the proffered hand. “No, my cousin dragged me here for his own malicious amusement. He knows I don’t usually come to places like this.” He frowned slightly, his forehead wrinkling, as his hand was drawn upward smoothly—not shaken—and the strange make-up wearing man touched his lips to it. Kendel jerked his hand away. “What are you doing?” he snapped harshly.

Fennick shrugged and took a measured sip of his drink. “Meeting you, I believe.” He ran a gloved finger around top oop of his glass, then glanced at Kendel again. “Have a drink. It’s on me.”

Kendel shook his head vehemently, but the bartender was already listening to Fennick and accepting his money. After a moment, the ‘tender slid a tall brownish drink across the bartop to Kendel.

Fennick gestured to the glass. “Go ahead. One drink won’t kill ya.” He stepped down from his stool—causing Kendel to note his high-heeled leather boots in fascination—and gave a brief wave before disappearing into the dancefloor.

Kendel sighed. He really didn’t want to be here. He played with the straw in the drink for a moment, then took a sip. Randall was off having a great time, and wouldn’t even remember Kendel until much later. The blonde had a long wait until his friend would try and find him to take him home. He sighs again and drew another mouthful of liquid through the straw. May as well just sit here.


***


Kendel never noticed that his drink never emptied. He was too wrapped up in his own thoughts about school, work, church, his parents, his life… An hour and a half passed, and he was beginning to get quite bored, and his ass hurt from sitting on the barstools so long. The loudness of the music and the smell of the place no longer bothered him. Exploring the madness that was the dancefloor was looking more and more appealing the more he sat there, the more he drank.

He slid from his seat and walked around the edge of the seething mass of bodies, looking them over curiously. There was an untoward amount of flesh showing, and Kendel paused now and them to stare at the ululating bodies, his brow furrowed in drunken concentration. He would shaking his head then, as though waking himself up, and continue his circling.

A warm pair of arms wrapped around his waist and he startled, turning wildly. “Randall?”

“No-ooo,” came the husky reply in his ear, and then a short laugh. “It’s your new friend, Fennick.” He laughed again and rubbed his face against the gleaming gold of Kendle’s hair. “Care to dance?”

Fennick shuddered, his mind calling up images of the close-packed dancers he’d been watching, the blatant eroticism in their bump-and-grind moments, the pale and dark flesh shining with sweat, faces contorting in… He felt the other man’s breath near his ear and his stomach seemed to hit the floor with an audible thud. The room spun sickeningly for a brief time, then rightened. That other man’s hands were on him; they were touching him. He would have staggered if it weren’t for those hands, and suddenly he was being pulled… pulling into the crowd, which suddenly wasn’t so hard to walk through. “I…”

“Hush,” spoke the voice near his ear, and he shuddered again. “Pretty boy.”

Kendel struggled to have a coherent thought. He was not supposed to be in this place; he was not supposed to be drinking, or dancing with another man, especially not one who touched him like this, like a lover. He was not supposed to be packed in the press of a dozen bodies until the only sanctuary he could find was to press into the lean, masculine leather-clad form behind him. This was wrong… He groaned softly, and let himself be pulled into a gentle swaying dance, Fennick guiding him easily.

The song ended, and Kendel turned to look at his captor. There was amusement and merriment in those green eyes, and a smile gracing his rosy lips. It was almost shocking to Kendel to realize that Fennick was his age, maybe a year or two younger. Another heartbeat, and he realized that there was some strange, comforting familiarity to the other man… no, boy. There was… something. He breath caught in his throat, and the beat changed.

It was throbbing and persistent, and Kendel suddenly moved of his own violation, pressing against Fennick’s form, and he began to listen to the sweet, high voices, voices that rippled through him and awakened yet another strange, bewildering sensation within him:

//This was an accident
Not the kind where sirens sound
Never even noticed
We\'re suddenly crumbling//

Kendel’s blue eyes lingered on the moist pinkness of Fennick’s lip, then focused on his whole face, searching his eyes to try and discern what was hidden in his expression. Something flickered across Fennick’s face briefly, and Kendel’s heart felt as though it stopped for a moment longer than it should.

//Tell me how you\'ve never felt
Delicate or innocent
Do you still have doubts that
Us having faith makes any sense//

Fennick swayed gently, his eyes downcast to look at the blonde in his arms. His sighed, and his breath caught in the gleaming gold. Kendel felt bewitched, the words seeping past his ears into his brain, twisting there like living things and eating at his mind. He wasn’t supposed…. He tossed his head wildly, fighting the opposing feelings building within him; fighting between his ideas of morality and sense of his place in the world, and his body’s growing urgency that this is not wrong, that this is right, that this is where he belonged…

//Tell me nothing ever counts
Lashing out or breaking down
Still somebody loses \'cause
There\'s no way to turn around

Staring at your photograph
Everything now in the past
Never felt so lonely I
Wish that you could show me love

Show me love, show me love, show me love, show me love, show me love,
\'Til you open the door//

The music changed, and Kendel growled in impatience, suddenly tired of being cradled against the other man’s breast. Fennick pushed him around, twisting his arms, until he faced the back of the blonde’s head. Fennick’s gloved hands ran over the strong muscles rippling in the Kendel’s arms, pulling them up in the air. The leather-clad younger man pressed in close against the slender form in front of him, dominating their movements skillfully and pulling Kendel tight to him.

//Show me love, show me love, show me love, show me love, show me love,
\'Til I\'m up off the floor//

Fennick ground his body against the one in front of him; the tight, rough, swaying of his hips working them both down into a squatting position, then back up, his leather pants sliding smoothing against the demin encasing Kendel’s firm buttocks. Fennick pulled Kendel’s hands back, bringing his hands to the silken mass of strawberry-blonde hair that rippled around his face. The blonde grasped the strands violently, and pulled Fennick’s face against his neck.

//Show me love, show me love show me love, show me love, show me love,
\'Til it\'s inside my pores//

Fennick smelled the wet, salty odor of Kendel’s skin, then licked at the drizzles of sweat running down the soft skin of the nape of his neck, his tongue lapping at the wispy hairs behind his ear. He could feel the blonde’s chest vibrate in a moan, felt Kendel turn his head into the touch, his face tensed in an expression of pain and pleasure. His lips were moist and half-parted.

//Show me love, show me love, show me love, show me love, show me love,
\'Til I\'m screaming for more//

Fennick drew his hands down along the undersides of Kendel’s upper arms, feeling the firm muscle, then stroked passionately over the other man’s lean, well-muscled chest. He could feel Kendel’s perked nipples through the thin, sweat-dampened t-shirt he wore, through his thick leather gloves, and his paused briefly to tease them, dragging his fingertips roughly over the hard little nubs. Kendel twisted against him once more, pressing back against him and flinging his head of golden hair, oblivious to the hundred other people crowded around him, oblivious to everything but the man rising such confliction emotions in him. He whimpered and turned his face against Fennick’s shoulder, his expression a terrible mix of confusion, pleasure, fear; he was trembling under those gloved fingers as they left his nipples to trace over the rippling muscles of his stomach.

//Random acts of mindlessness
Commonplace occurrences
Chances and surprises
Another state of consciousness//

Fennick fell into an almost gentle swaying, pulling the blonde with him and against him, a growl building in his throat. His teeth grazed over Kendel’s ear, and his tongue flicked over it quickly, teasing the pink shell of skin, cartilage, and fat with consummate skill. His hands slid easily to rest of Kendel’s slim hips, and his fingers gripped the flesh there tightly. Even over the music he could hear the blonde’s ragged gasps for air.

//Tell me nothing ever counts
Lashing out or breaking down
Still somebody loses \'cause
There\'s no way to turn around

Tell me how you\'ve never felt
Delicate or innocent
Do you still have doubts that
Us having faith makes any sense//

Kendel panted harshly; he felt as though his lungs would burst before he was able to draw in enough air, and his heart pounded in his chest with the same force as the beat pounded through the harmony of the music. He was shaking, he knew that, and he imagined that sparrows often trembled as they were caught up in the gaze of the serpent. His groin ached from the hard press of his arousal straining against the fly of his jeans, and suddenly he was very aware of the strong fingers grasping him so near that portion of his body, and even more aware of the definite erection pressing against his buttocks. The warm, wet drag of Fennick’s tongue and teeth on his ear and the low vibration of his growl startled Kendel badly, and his head rolled back against the younger man’s shoulder as if in offering. Kendel bit his lip, wondering why he didn’t seem to have any control over his body, wondering how another man could make him feel so… “What are you doing?” he murmured.

//You play games, I play tricks
Girls and girls, but you\'re the one
Like a game of pick-up sticks
Played by fucking lunatics//

“Loving you,” came the laughing reply, breathy and eager. “Don’t you want to be loved, pretty boy?” Fennick did not wait to see if there would be an answer forthcoming, but cupped his captive jaw with one hand and turned his face up toward him and touched his lips to his.

Kendel half-cried out, though he was muffled against the other man’s mouth and turned as far as he could into the kiss. His body throbbed with arl, al, and he tangled a hand more deeply in Fennick’s silky tresses, yanking him demandingly down. Their tongues met, twisting against one another wetly, and both men moaned eagerly, their bodies trembling against one another and straining closer as though their pleasure could be greatened by occupying the exact same space at the exact same time, as though their bodies wanted to join and become one.

Fennick nipped at Kendel’s lower lip, nearly bruising it in his desire and pulled back to look as the panting, squirming prize in his arms. Kendel didn’t give him the chance though, and pulled the younger man back against his mouth, his lips working frantically over Fennick’s, his tongue pushing into his mouth. The blonde tugged at the handful of hair mindlessly, feeling the strands tighten into a knot around his fingers, and his other hand wrapped around Fennick’s lean waist, squeezing them together.

Fennick gave a low growl, then reached down and slid and arm under Kendel’s knees and lifted him. He carried him from the dancefloor with a quick, impatient pace while the blonde planted numerous kisses on his lips, laving the pink flesh with his tongue. It was time to go elsewhere.

//Show me love, show me love
Give me all that I want
Show me love, Show me love
\'Til I\'m screaming for more//


Fennick kicked open the men’s bathroom forcefully, making the door bounce off the tiles and nearly shut on him again. Another kick threw open the handicapped stall, and he dropped Kendel to his feet, who was still kissing him as much as possible. He yanked off his gloves, then grasped Kendel’s plain white t-shirt—transparent with sweat—and yanked it over the blonde’s head unceremoniously. Both articles of clothing fell unheeded to the floor, as Fennick moved closer and his mouth found the damp, salty flesh of Kendel’s throat. The blonde groaned and arched back against the cool steel of the stall wall, his fingers attempting to untie the laces holding Fennick’s vinyl bodice tight around his chest.

It was hard for Kendel to think, and his fingers jerked at the ties uselessly, pulling them into knots and then out. He worked at it furiously, mindlessly, as Fennick’s hot, wet lips and tongue danced over his skin, setting his nerves a-fire. He squealed sharply as a damp set of teeth clamped down on one nipple, and he yanked his hand back, pulling the tie loose from the bodice. The vinyl piece fluttered to the floor, but neither man noticed. Kendel hissed, clenching his teeth together, and writhed against the metal barrier. His nails scraped over Fennick’s smooth, sweat-slick skin.

Fennick tugged the fly of Kendel’s jeans open with little effort while swirling his tongue over each pinkish, firm nipple, his mouth trailed lower, leaving a string of kisses and nibbles that left the blonde squirming and breathily moaning. Another quick tug, and Kendel’s cotton boxers joined the growing pile of discard cing ing littering the bathroom floor. Kendel didn’t open his eyes, but he could sense the other man’s nearness, his heat. He heard the sound of a pair of zippers being undone, then Fennick shifting… the wait was agonizing. “What are you…?”

Kendel bit his lip hard to keep from crying out, and slammed his head back against the metal hard enough to cause stars to dance before his eyes. The slick, soft, molten heat slid over his hard shaft, lingering for a moment at the head, and a gentle probing sensation at the tiny slit there made Kendel light-headed. His hips jerked forward of their own violation, and the blonde could feel the vibration of Fennick’s soft laughter rippling against his delicate skin. The younger man’s tongue twined about the warm, supple skin of Kendel’s arousal, and the blonde struggled to remember to breathe, to not scream. His own helpless twitchings caused waves of delicious sensation to race up through his trembling body, and Fennick’s mouth pulled and pushed at him, tight and liquidy-hot, driving him wild and causing him to lose all thought but the mindless instinct that told him to plunge himself deeply into this sweet hole. Time seemed endless… Kendel felt the cool, slightly rough metal rubbing against the skin of his back, the damp tendrils of his blonde hair sticking to his neck and forehead, the cool air raising goosebumps on his flesh, the soft heat stroking the length of his cock… With a desperate whine, he slumped against the supporting wall and thrust his hips up and out rapidly.

“No!” Fennick stood up quickly, his voice reprimanding Kendel firmly and quietly. “Not yet.” He turned the blonde until they were once more front to back, and positioned Kendel’s arms to support him against the metal wall. “Stay there.”

Kendel felt the other’s warm, firm hands leave him, and he lowered his head to touch his forehead to the cooler painted steel, wondering how he had managed to end up here, naked with another man in a bathroom stall of a danceclub. He did, however, know now how Fennick had gotten his pants on—and, for that matter, off: there were a pair of zippers on the outside of each leg from waist to ankle, allowing the owner to step into them and zip himself in. He took a few deep, relaxing breaths, then startled as Fennick moved against him once more. He tried to glance over his shoulder. “What?”

He suddenly felt something slightly cool and slippery run down the crease of his buttock and he shuddered violently, his breath coming harsh between his teeth. Fennick’s fingers pushed their way down to run along the tight puckered opening, leaving a slick coating of oil in their wake, and he lingered there a moment, just tracing the lines of the sensitive flesh while Kendel shivered beneath him. There was a brief pause while Fennick applied more oil, then the teasing pressure was back. “Relax,” Fennick murmured in his ear, “I won’t hurt you.” Kendel caught his breath and forced most of his muscles to slowly release, and he could feel the strawberry-blonde strands moves against him in a nod. “Yes…” An oil-slick finger pushed up and into him with steady pressure, and Kendel almost panicked again, whining deep in his throat.

“Shhh,” Fennick steadied him with his other hand, and rested his chin on his shoulder. “It’s ok.” He twisted his finger up a bit further, then withdrew once more to drench his hand in oil again.

Kendel sobbed tearlessly against the stall. “I’m not… not… su-sup-supposed… I…” He was frightened; he wasn’t supposed to be doing this. This went against almost everything he believed in, and though in the morning moral indignation would catch up with him, all he knew now was that he had never imagined actually engaging in any kind of sexual play with another man and this was going to far, too fast. The combined stress of the strangeness of the situation, his first sexual experience, his drunkenness, and the undeniable pleasure that was jolting through him was beginning to catch up with him.

“Shhh,” Fennick whispered once more, pressing his fingers into the shaking blonde once more, coating him with the slippery oil. He could feel the ring of muscle beginning to stretch and relax, and he pushed in up to his second knuckle. He leaned against Kendel, murmuring nonsense words softly into his ear. Slowly, his slender digits sank fully into the older man, and Fennick paused a second before stroking Kendel from the inside. The blonde’s sobbing caught in his throat suddenly, and an involuntary shudder rarougrough his slender form. “Yeah… I would never hurt you, pretty boy.”
Fennick moved into a better position and wrapped his arms around Kendel’s waist. “I promise.”

Kendel whimpered softly as the invading fingers slide out of him, taking with them the uncomfortable burning, pushing feeling, but also the pleasurable sensation of being filled. He pressed back against Fennick, resting easily on the younger man’s arms. Something hard and warm brushed against hittocttocks, then pushed up between them. Kendel forced himself to relax, and crossed his arms, leaning heavily against the wall while thrusting his hips back for easier access. He felt the rounded, fleshy head rub against him, then press upward firmly and begin to slip in. The rest pushed in easily, and Kendel squirmed violently, feeling as though he was impaled. The burning sensation of stretched flesh subsided after a moment, and he relaxed, his muscles dropping heavily.

Fennick chuckled, and began to move, slowly at first, letting the blonde get used to the idea, then with increasing vigor. Kendel was tight, almost painfully tight, and a flush crept over his body. He panted to catch his breath, sucking in air in time with his steady thrusts, and almost as an afterthought he dribbled the last of his sweetbirch oil between them, and reached down from Kendel’s waist to run his hand through the puff of blonde pubic hair, then over the firm member jutting out of it.

Kendel sucked in air in jagged, unsteady breaths and closed his eyes. Each thrust from behind rocked him up roughly against the metal divider and lifted him to his toetips, and he was sure his forearms would be bruised tomorrow from the pressure. He felt Fennick’s arm leave his waist, then sighed in gratitude for the sensation of more oil sliding greasily down the cleft of his buttocks; the younger man suddenly thrust harder into him, warm and slick, and grasped Kendel’s waist with one hand to seat himself more firmly within while beginning to stroke him with the other. Kendel moaned low in his throat, jerking his hips helplessly, moving closer to the edge instinctively. The sensation of Fennick’s cock pushing apart his buttocks, of being filled and withdrawn from; the feeling of the metal under his arms; of the sweat and excess oil running down his body and pooling around his feet; the soft, breathy grunts sounding near his ear quickly and impatiently; the steady slapping of their bodies meeting, and the delicious fiction of the slippery hand wrapped around him jerking frantically… none of this felt strange or uncomfortable any longer. He could focus on nothing but the rising tide of pleasure sweeping through him; all else was unimportant. His only thought was the mindless rocking of his body, the rhythms of sex. He took a deep shaking breath, and began to shake his head violently, incoherent noises dropping from his mouth.

Fennick gave a groan, then gave up on what little remained of his self-control, slamming into the slender body under him violently hard with a cry of release, pouring himself out into this man—this boy—and shaking in the aftermath of his pleasure. He gripped Kendel tightly against him, and felt through his own dazed state the quick twitchings of the blonde in his hand and the hot, satiny-slick release dripping from his hand. His hips flexed a few more times involuntarily, and he stroked Kendel’s spent and softening sex idly a few more times. He felt him shudder beneath him, and pulled away with a soft sigh.

Kendel shivered, suddenly feeling cold. He rested his head against his forearms, then pulled back and touched his face, staring in bewilderment at the wetness that graced his fingertips, wetness that wasn’t sweat. He felt Fennick press gently against him, wiping up the mess of fluids coating him with toilet paper, cleaning him thoroughly and patiently. He waited, leaned against the metal divider that held the heat of their spent passion, until he felt Fennick move away and hear the sound of clothes being shifted about. He turned, and Fennick stood before him, naked and glistening with sweat in the pale florescent light, with Kendel’s boxers and jeans held out in offering. “Here.”

Kendel took the clothing and began to get dressed slowly, methodically, his mind beginning at last to grasp what had just happened. He winced at the sound of Fennick yanking the zippers on his pants up.

Fennick, despite his more elaborate clothing, finished dressing first, and leaned in close to the bewildered Kendel, brushing his lips over his cheek. “I know you,” he said after a brief pause. “I feel like I’ve always known you, somehow.” He inhaled—another quick pause. “I hope that you are not angry with me.” He pressed his hand into Kendel’s jeans pocket, and kissed him again tenderly, then opened the door and stepped out.

Kendel heard his boots clocking on the tile and heard him sigh before the door opened, letting in the noise of the dancefloor. He picked his cold, damp shirt up off the floor and pulled it over his head, making a face of distaste at its clamminess as he did so. He shoved his hand into his pocket and fished out the slip of paper. He stared at the number written on it, then tossed it into the toilet and flushed. He left the bathroom with a faint smile. Some things weren’t meant to be repeated.