Title: Nothing Ever Truly Ends
Summary: Robert's father betrays him deeply and in response to that Robert acts out, trying to tarnish their name until retribution is made. Cue pickpocket - Bryan Kuznetsov - and the bizarre alliance formed from two equally, desperate beybladers trying to find a way to survive in their own world. [Slash][Bryan/Robert][Robert/Bryan]

Warnings: If Robert/Bryan making out freaks you out, please back out right now. If you do not like the thought of any beyblade characters coming to emotional/mental/physical harm then back out. (If it eases some minds, there is no sexual abuse / rape in this fic. nor Abbey-angsty-boo-hoo-ness) Sexual shenanigans and dirty jokes abound. Swearing like drunken angry sailors too.

AN:

I thought I made Robert too sexually naive before. He's much more 'alpha' and direct in terms of relationships now. Bryan's no less demanding, he's just more cautious about outcomes and the consequences to these. The pervertedness has been balanced out now! Haha. This fanfiction started off by thinking mainly about group dynamics. So, loads of interactions from Ian/Spencer/Tala and Bryan all different-ish. (Ian's awesome). So, I'm really excited to start writing this.

Last thing, y'know about the sex and all. I'm not sure I'm comfortable upload say a "lemon" onto FFNET, just in case it went over the M rating into the MA. So, scenes with sex in them may be uploaded onto a blog - and a FFNET friendly version will be here. But more on that when it happens.


The Initial Meeting With


Robert never believed he would condone theft, never mind actually be delighted to see it happen to a close friend of his father's. Only a few feet away was Sir Edwin, an older gentleman with wheat coloured hair that had begun to turn silver at the roots. The Italian leather wallet that was fished out of a pocket resembled his older skin. As quickly as Robert had seen the wallet, it was gone again - into the back pocket of someone he wasn't sure even belonged here. Although delightful, odd.

How did this person, who Robert was struggling to place, manage to enter a private gentlemen's club? As much as he was trying to keep a low profile now by idly chatting to the barman, he didn't belong. Not if the suit was anything to go by. Unsure of whether or not to comment on the stranger's identity Robert kept quiet. Occasionally, Sir Edwin would walk passed this stranger and still he noticed nothing, yet Robert was aware the man had checked his phone - an archaic model if Robert had ever seen one - at least five times after taking his prize.

Why was he waiting there? Did he want to be caught? Was this a ruse? Perhaps, he wished to take a few more items before departing? Slipping a hand into his pocket Robert realised he still had his, so he wasn't caught out. Yet. The face irked him. Robert was sure he'd seen it before. At first, the thought of perhaps an old fling sprung to mind. No, no one like that here. He made sure the two lifestyles would never interchange so easily. No, he was . . . Pinching the bridge of his nose as he felt the remnants of a hangover, Robert tried to concentrate. Bryan? Bryan Ka... Bryan Ku... Bryan - a beyblader. Certainly not one who could enter into such an esteemed place without help.

Bryan checked his phone again - what kind was that? Robert hadn't even seen one of those in years. This time Bryan slid off his seat and approached Sir Edwin. What was going on? Bryan returned the wallet and headed in the direction of the door. Ignoring the call of thanks and offer of a drink. Again: what was going on? Why? What? If it were to break the ice what benefit did overlooking their offer do? Robert shook his head and stood up. If there were one phrase Robert had to remember it was, curiosity killed the cat. He wanted to know what that display was all about. He would find out regardless of the required method.

"Excuse me," Robert called as he reached the hallway, halfway down the stairs he spotted Bryan and decided chasing a pickpocket wasn't going to be on his schedule this morning. Bryan wasn't going to stop for a chat. "Stop, or would you rather me call security about your knack for picking pockets?" Bryan halted then and looked over his shoulder. Now, forgive Robert for expecting surprise, maybe some form of shock or anger. What Robert got was nothing; blank as a newly bought canvas. As Bryan kept his stance on the stairs, Robert caught up and hovered at the first step unsure whether to join the thief or keep at arm's length. As Robert ran through the list of questions he wanted to ask about the interaction, Bryan spoke.

"You have no intention of calling security," he said calmly. Robert frowned, the mental order of his questions jumbled. Wasn't this when Robert should be in control of the conversation? Bryan continued and Robert watched careful to note any expression on his face. "'Cause they'd be here already if you did," nothing yet. "You've got a place, right? We'll talk about your silencing fee there." Nothing yet. Bryan shrugged and continued his way downstairs. Robert could do nothing but to follow. He still had no answers to an ever expanding stock of questions.

So being polite didn't work. Being a complete Wichser didn't work either. "I don't really have any intention of alerting security or anyone else for that matter." Bryan had turned round and blinked at the statement. Did that count as an expression change? Robert sighed and forced a smile on his face, well, the pickpocket hadn't tried to run yet. "I would however like to speak with you on another matter."

Bryan shoved his hands into his pockets and raised his head to the side slightly, "I've got time now," still not even a twitch. Robert could easily pull a power play, demand another time to suit him, another place, but he wasn't even sure if Bryan would reappear. Bryan might vanish and the answer to that little stunt lost forever. So, with another forced smile Robert agreed and decided he'd take Bryan back to the castle and not his current living space. Plus, if this were to get back to his father - Robert inviting a known pickpocket back? Oh, it would be hilarious to see his father fume. Maybe he'd steal something from the castle? This plan was becoming more and more promising.

"Very well, come along," Robert walked ahead of Bryan, although admittedly he was confused at why Bryan wasn't just running away. It's not like Robert really had any intention of blackmailing him when he had no proof, or even chasing after him. Still Robert pulled out his car key and unlocked it. He gave Bryan a curious look when Bryan's face suddenly didn't seem so blank. He liked the car. Or was surprised by it. Or was curious on how much money Robert had as a result. Robert sighed again, he had enough questions. These didn't matter.

For the first few minutes of the drive, Robert's attention was on the road, the other traffic, the sound of the engine and the feel of the steering wheel in his grip. Then glancing to his newest acquaintance he realised how relaxed Bryan was. He had slouched down in his seat, enough to lean his head against the glass with a ghost of smirk on his face. Planning on running off as soon as he stopped the car perhaps? Back to the road, Robert indicated left and by habit revved the engine down a stretch of road before easing off, and finally joining yet another line of sluggish traffic.

"Were you feeling charitable? When you gave Sir Edwin his wallet back." The silence before wasn't uncomfortable or even stagnant but Robert was curious. On many things. But he mused to himself, if Bryan was as sharp as before - knowing Robert's true initial intention - then yes, he'd most likely avoid these questions. Most people would probably avoid them, if in the same position. His father avoided answering any sort of question.

"I didn't need it any more," Bryan was looking around now, poking at this and that, opening the glove compartment and going back to playing with the car system which controlled everything from radio station and SAT-NAV to custom heating. Robert didn't dare to tell him to stop it; he probably wouldn't be in another car like this in his life. Let him have his moment.

"Did you take others?"

"No," Bryan's short exploration was over and he sat back in his seat, his gaze now set on watching the scenery whiz by.

"Why didn't you keep it?"

"I've answered that." Robert shot another glance over to Bryan who at that point had his eyes closed and an arm resting by the window. Attractive came to mind. Bryan wasn't really his type, he preferred the kind of guy who was predictable. Having known Bryan less than a few hours and being confused more than he had by anyone else this week - that didn't bode well for any form of relationship, including the more short lived kinds.

"Then why did you need it?"

"I didn't, in the end,"

A shake of the head and a scoff, Robert couldn't handle people who would answer questions but never really say anything. Bryan didn't seem to be lying. But, what did Robert know? Robert gave a frustrated growl, "Do you always tease the answer to questions or is it entirely for my pleasure?"

"If you don't want teased then don't ask," if Robert hadn't been driving his brain might have shut down at the intrusive thought that flared in his head for a few seconds. Finally grasping at the situation, one where Bryan could not escape, Robert decided to ask the question which had been on his mind the longest.

"How did you get in? It's a private address." A click, one of which Robert could only assume was Bryan's tongue flicking at the roof of his mouth, didn't prepare Robert for the simple explanation ahead.

"I blew the doorman." Robert wasn't a virgin nor a stranger to sexual favours with strangers. But the doorman to the gentlemen's club was however a grim looking fellow who Robert had labelled many years ago as either asexual or in some grotesquely unhappy marriage.

Maybe Bryan was lying? Did he really have any reason to lie though? Why did he- "What... That's..." Robert blamed the car that suddenly cut out in front of him on his failure to grasp the situation. Not the image of green eyes going down on hi- someone, someone like the doorman. However, Bryan's voice suddenly sounded less monotonous.

"Mind blowing? That was the point." Robert didn't even need to look to know Bryan was smug. He scoffed again, not wanting to give off the impression that he was embarrassed or at all phased by the discussion - it was the car and the insistent questions that had slowed his thoughts, nothing more. Not the mental image that lingered either.

"Presumptuous, perhaps."

"Not like they're my words," Bryan shrugged and Robert chanced another glance over. Attractive tease. Still not his type.

"Hearsay for all I know," Robert refuted, maybe Bryan would admit it was a lie? Although with his earlier answers, it was difficult to know exactly why Bryan was even there, why it was so important to get into the club in the first place. More questions.

"Pull over and I'll prove it."

Okay.

Wait.

"You aren't my type," Robert said dismissively as he rounded another corner. He was quite sure he'd parroted the exact same line to someone else last night. A little blonde thing, if he remembered. Said blonde quite liked to jump up and dance anywhere, a little too spontaneous for Robert's liking even if it was just to bring home for a night. Anyway, he'd found a nice redhead that warmed his bed till later that night. His head felt much better than it had this morning.

"Good." At first Bryan sent a glare. At the second glance Robert could afford to take his eyes off the road to check, he was slouching and smirking again, eyes shut. Robert took a deep breath and told himself to just focus on driving from now on. These curiosities just kept popping up; he didn't like this.


As Bryan got out of the vehicle, he gave a resigned look at it. It was a car he would only dream to have. Or even drive. Fuck, he'd quite happily steal this if he could avoid being caught. The headlights looked more like eyes of a demonic being than anything else with a dark silver body and aerodynamic indents along the sides with tinted windows, whoever made this gorgeous hulk of machinery deserved some form of medal. Don't get him started on car sex, he'd fuck anything in there - firstly, whoever made it even possible to have the engine roar like it did. With a sigh Bryan headed for the main door of this . . . castle. He wasn't so fond of architecture nor the glaring butler, who stood nearby Robert talking quietly enough so Bryan couldn't hear.

The ache of reality set in when he took another step away from the car. His muscles heavy and he assumed the added fatigue was what truly caught him when stealing that wallet. He was lucky, mind, if this guy wanted a few favours done in return for keeping his mouth shut, fine. Bryan had handled worse. The rumble overhead made Bryan awfully aware at how the castle loomed over him with nothing but a bleak invitation of warmth. He had the urge to run a hand along the stone to see if it were as cold as the abbey walls he remembered.

A quick look back - mentally remembering every curve on that car - Bryan gave no attention to the butler he passed on his way inside. Inside was surprisingly bright, light reflected from suits of armour which stood proudly as if they protected the castle from any threat brave enough to slip by the security gates. The grand painting by artists Bryan couldn't name made little impression on him. He began to wonder.

What sort of person takes a stranger home without intention to screw them over? Metaphorical or not. Maybe Robert was naive, or even overconfident. It was obvious Robert could be an asset to anyone who was on his good side. It wasn't good that it was so apparent. The rest of team could find out about this Outsider and attempt to use him. Not like Bryan wasn't going to milk the moron for all his worth - he'd just have to do so subtly. But what if the smiling, almost forgiving natured beyblader was the lie in this scenario? That was dangerous and Bryan kept a mental note to pick apart everything Robert said in future. Useful but not trustworthy.

Robert gave him a reassuring smile, one that did more to put him on edge than anything else. The butler seemed immune to Bryan's presence and ignored him completely without a glance his way. Bryan watched the two carefully, his attention jumping from whoever was speaking in German trying to figure out what was said. Keller the butler said something in his mother-tongue. Bryan knew only a few words of German none of which he heard. Whatever it was, Robert nodded.

"I'll have a quick look round," Robert said and waved Bryan to follow suit into a room. Out of habit, Bryan was going to refuse. Then logically decided to do as asked before any goodwill turned bitter and spiteful. He had enough of that at The Apartment. Edging towards to the now open door he peered in, vaguely wondering what needed Robert's attention. The room in question was a trophy room, lights inside glass cabinets and wall shelves, everything pristine and glossy from polish.

Deciding to do as Bryan normally would, as in, anything he felt like, Bryan picked up a trophy from one of the shelves. A plaque that read: Bejahrt 7, Literaturwettbewerb 1st. As if an alarm had triggered, Keller rushed to his side, "Let me take that for you," he removed it from Bryan's hands gently and began to polish yet again the golden trim.

As if Bryan didn't know what that meant. In order balance this out Bryan opted for picking more of the shit up. Not only that he'd go for changing the order too. To hell with chronology. As Keller had no idea what Bryan just planned he had kept cleaning the plaque and ignored Bryan as he went to another row of cabinets. As soon as Bryan had swapped more trophies, something to do with fencing, history, art and track if the symbols and models gave any indications - Keller realised what had happened.

"Please, sir, could you refrain from touching the trophies?" He didn't look at Bryan once, just began cleaning Keller. If he gave any indication on how Robert liked his trophies, Bryan may have just exhausted all goodwill left. Bryan wandered off again and moved some more around, making sure to appear to read the words as if he were actually interested. He wasn't. Bryan began from one side of the room to wander with another, placing them in opposite ends. It was only when he heard a snigger from elsewhere did he remember Robert was even present.

Keller snapped his attention to his employer, who had taken to covering up his amusement with coughing. "Are you quite finished?" Robert asked, a smile - one that Bryan couldn't dismiss as fake for certain - Bryan nodded. "Keller, I'll leave you to clean up." Quickly being shooed from the room, Keller gave another hateful look his way. Bryan just smirked triumphantly back.

"A little childish, don't you think?" For the first time since they'd met - an error on Bryan's part that he wouldn't be discussing with the rest of the team - they walked side by side. Although Bryan admitted his attention was more on what lay ahead of them. Too many doors, too many rooms, too many possibilities. Bryan just wished Robert would either turn round and blackmail him outright and let him know what he had to do, or let him go. Preferably back to the car with the cream interior. That smelt fucking amazing.

"Says the guy who laughed." Bryan refused to be called childish by a man who probably had never been scolded in his life. Snob. With a sour thought of going home, Bryan started to glare everywhere. This guy had it easy. This guy's only worry was what type of tea he had in the morning with his pancakes and pheasant. He should leave as soon as he noticed an exit. This was a waste of time. Wait. Another sour thought of Spencer. Shit.

"Yes well, shall we have a look in the garage? I need to quickly check to see if my father's there."

Fuck it. He'd stay a while.

With a destination in mind, one which Bryan was more than happy to get to it hardly took any time at all. Fuck it. He'd gladly die in this garage. It was larger than The Apartment. It housed numerous cars from sports to vintage. He wanted to drive them all. He wasn't sure which one he wanted to gawk at first. Well, gawk at subtly he wasn't about to act like a child when Robert was watching him so closely.

Bryan wandered around checking all of the no doubt expensive cars. An old vintage car was at the back, burgundy kind of maroon - with a raised hood - Bryan was curious to see the engine. The vibration of his phone jeered him from his newly found treasure trove. At first, he thought it would be a text message. The team rarely called. He accepted it, "What?" he asked taking his time to snoop around other cars. He paused at a bright red convertible with an angular design and headlights which looked like they could raised and lowered. Probably a simple switch inside.

"Take Ian to A&E." His revere of the cars ended then. The fact, the real world had moved on while he was hiding away here, was like a stamp in the gut. Fuck. He swallowed hard. Maybe Tala was exaggerating?

"How bad?" He tried to ignore the extra person nearby. Robert did however seem more interested on tinkering with the vintage car Bryan had looked at previously. He also made sure his voice stayed flat and cold.

"Looks worse than it is,"

"You're the one with the car, Tala." He snapped, his patience was never something he boasted about. Tala's voice flared back just as aggravated.

"I'm not touching him. You take him."

Bryan gave a frustrated sigh. "Trains aren't running, how the fuck am I suppose to get to A&E with him?" Bryan glanced behind him keeping an eye to where Robert was. He didn't need an Outsider becoming involved.

"Don't care," Tala said without a hint of concern.

"Who?" Bryan asked quietly, not because of Tala's infuriating comment but because he felt like he was being watched.

"Does it matter? Take him now, or he can lie in the fucking kitchen all night." Well, Bryan knew only of Ian's apparent injury but even that didn't make much sense. Unless Ian had started something and...

"Where was Spencer?" Tala sounded odd after Bryan had asked. He sounded amused.

"Why are you bringing him up?" Bryan closed his eyes at his mistake and ended the call. Fuck, he was so close to - he let out a growl. Why did this even... Fuck it. He'd have to find a number for a taxi, then somehow pay for it. He could pay their way there but the way back would be more than Bryan had on him or at The Apartment.

He vaguely heard Robert call something out to him and then instinctively caught whatever was thrown at his face. It was obviously a car key. "What is this?" Wasn't this guy meant to be blackmailing him? Why was he allowed to borrow a car? This officially made no logical sense. No one, no one gave cars like these away to people like him.

"An incentive to return? Either way, it sound like you have to be elsewhere." Robert smashed a few numbers into a computer lock and the garage door sprung to life with a motorised hum. "Goodbye, Bryan do drive carefully." Robert was practically gone by the time Bryan realised the car he'd been allowed to drive was the one waiting outside. The silver with cream interior. Well, at least he'd be driving to Hell in style.

Bryan couldn't make up his mind if the car was too fast or too slow. He should have enjoyed the ride back but every nerve was twitching as adrenaline started to pump in his veins. As fast as he could, with as much reluctance as he could bare to slow himself down, Bryan opened the door to The Apartment. It only had one hallway. Three doors at its end, the right to the kitchen, the middle to the living room, the left to a series of bedrooms.

Bryan tentatively opened the door and forced to keep his face neutral, the door collided with a helmet. "You got here quick." Ian said as he grunted in pain. The little shit was holding his side and kept himself in the furthest away corner of the room. He was supposedly taller, older. But with how he was all twisted up? Hell, Bryan couldn't see a difference. He sighed and jerked his head towards the door. Bryan felt awkward at whether he should hold the door open for the limping kid.

He didn't. Ian didn't ask him to either.

As soon as Bryan and Ian entered the elevator, Bryan wanted the safety latches to break. He didn't want to breathe near Ian. He didn't want to talk with Tala earlier. Fuck, the longer he went without seeing Spencer the better. Bryan just kept his head raised watching the neon green numbers count down. Were they always this slow? Ian made another grunt of exertion as he tried to stand away from the elevator wall. It took too long for Bryan to get back to the car.

"Where'd you get the car?" Ian watched Bryan carefully, even though Bryan had taken out the key already and was revving the engine. "You steal it?" Ian sat down and shut the door with as much force as his damaged body could handle. Bryan tried to ignore the gash on his face. The reopened wound on his shoulder.

"Shut the fuck up, Ian - and stop bleeding over everything." Bryan finally started the journey towards A&E, he wasn't sure why he had thought going off with some random guy would make this go away. He wasn't sure what to really do, other than drive Ian to A&E. He was angrier at his thoughts than at Ian.

"Spencer said you'd be whoring out to that knighted old dude." Bryan said nothing in return, Ian might like to act like a kid to lose attention of morons but he wasn't. He manipulated as well as everyone else on the team. "So where'd you get the car?" Ian asked again, shifting in his seat with a huff. His arm still wrapped around his torso. The blood was drying at least.

"I didn't get it for lying down,"

"You must've done something - he'll be expecting something," Ian said matter-of-factly, as if Bryan needed to hear it. Lights became more of a nuisance than anything else. Bryan half wanted to just drive off the edge of a road and see where it took them.

Bryan didn't need more than a few minutes of silence to realise the outcome Robert must be looking for. 'Come to my house, Mr. Thief because ... "He expects I'll steal it." Bryan wasn't sure if Ian looked surprised or if he'd lost more blood than was safe. Either way, he never fired out another question.

Engine noises usually calmed Bryan down. The louder the better but the ebbing feeling of having yet another visit to this place only filled him with an anxiety he'd never felt before. Why did this have to go on? Bryan slowed the car down as he allowed Ian out of the car. Although, Ian kept hold of the opened door for a moment before turning around and speaking.

"Spencer wants to talk to you later," Ian slammed the door and Bryan almost flinched at the sound. He watched Ian limp and hobble forwards, never once looking back, and only thought to park so he had an excuse not to return to The Apartment. Only when Ian's words reappeared in his head he crumbled onto the steering wheel with a hiss, and slammed his fists against the dashboard. Fuck. He closed his eyes and tried to calm down but it was there, creeping up. Panic. Blind furious panic.


AN: What can I say? There needs to be more Bryan/Robert Robert/Bryan fics around.

Yes, Robert has daddy/trust-issues. Bryan has numerous issues. All of which will be explained slowly and in detail 'cause that means they have more time together. And then more banter can happen. Among other things. =D

(^_^) Thanks for reading, review if you have time or notice any mistakes! Essentially answer these wee questions if you're not sure what to say in order to help me as much as possible: Was Robert in character? Was Bryan in character? Was the banter even mildly amusing? Or should I stop trying to me funny? Is Ian in character? Tala? Anything you're wondering about? Ages? Time-frame from anime/manga? When the sex happens? How bloody long will this one be?

Thanks again for reading! See you later.