Part Thirteen

Enrique listened to the feisty pair trash-talk each other, wondering why they both didn't just drop their pants and prove who the bigger man was then and there. Instead, Trygle and Salamalyon were forced to duke it out for them.

"You don't get it, do you? You're not even close to Robert's level. How can you think you stand a chance with him? You can get on your knees for him every day and it's not going to make a difference in the end. Once his family finds out, they'll run you out of town."
"And I bet you can't wait to tell them, right?"
"I do what I have to." Johnny answered sourly. "Someone has to protect the knights' code of honour, since Robert's obviously not thinking with his brain at the moment."
"What-ever! I think Robert knows what he wants better than you do."

"Salamalyon, attack that pathetic excuse for a blade!" The highlander broke the argument for a moment to yell at his Bit Beast, before yelling at Michael again. "You're nothing but an amusement to Robert, and when the novelty of having a common lover wears off, what are you going to do? He'll be as disgusted as I am with you."

Everything about Johnny just made Michael want to punch him in the face. Quick, simple - the boy would be on his back and he wouldn't have to look at that smug smirk again.

And before he could weigh up the cons of assaulting Robert's best friend, he'd dived across the dish and landed a punch square in his jaw - much to Johnny and Enrique's horror.

The redhead backed away, his eyes wide and fierce as he gingerly touched the rising swell of the impact.
"Son of a bitch!"
He ran forward, tackling his opponent to the ground and returning the hit.

Enrique looked on helplessly, wanting to break them up, but not knowing who to grab as the fight got more and more violent. Back-up was needed. He fled the room, calling out for Robert's help. But the master of the castle was nowhere to be found.

In his desperation, he bolted to the south dining room, hoping Oliver was still there. Not that the delicate boy would be of much assistance physically, but he was part of the Majestics, and Johnny's knightly code respected that.

"Oliver, come quick!" Enrique barged through the door in a panic, ignoring his friend's naughty smirk and Robert's blush. He was just relieved to have found them both. "Johnny and Michael are trying to kill each other!"

Robert and Enrique ran into the training room. Trygle and Salamalyon long forgotten, the American and Scot themselves were locked in a furious battle in the middle of the dish. With a hurried gesture for the blonde to grab Johnny, Robert took the other side, sliding his arm around Michael's waist and prising him away.

Enrique managed to restrain his target by hooking the boy's armpits in his elbows whilst the hot-tempered redhead struggled against him.

Oliver arrived shortly after, throwing himself between the pair, dodging Johnny's flailing arms and legs as he told him to calm down.

To his back, Robert stood with his arms wrapped tightly around his guest's waist. If the fight was allowed to go on, Michael's chances of winning were not very high, so he wisely let go of any spirit to continue. His opponent had landed quite a few nasty hits, leaving him with the foul taste of blood in his mouth and a cut on his brow.

"Are you all so blind?!" Johnny yelled. "He's not one of us!"
"That's no reason to beat him up." His small team mate argued back.
"Shut the fuck up, Oliver! I wouldn't expect you to understand."

Robert was furious - over Johnny's lack of self-control and of Michael's conceited need to take everything he said personally. He didn't want to know who and what had started the fight, all that mattered was putting an end to it and ensuring it wouldn't happen again. Both as stubborn as the other, he'd have the pair shackled together in his dungeon for the day if he thought it would give them some common sense.

Michael probably deserved everything he got, but if gaping wounds hadn't taught him anything, Robert doubted a couple of superficial cuts and bruises would either. He had no doubt that it was the boy's attitude which had seen him attacked by the Demolition Boys. He was just fortunate that it was Johnny and not Tala this time - and that Johnny had friends who didn't want to see a fight.

"I will not tolerate this sort of behaviour - from either of you. You should both be ashamed of yourselves. Johnny, I expected better from you."
The red-haired knight rolled his eyes. Robert was right... he was better than that. Robert was always right.

"And Michael..." The nobleman madly searched for words that would not make it sound like he was favouring either of them. "What are you doing down here? You were given explicit instructions not to exert yourself."
"Hey, look... I'm sorry, all right?" He said, without any audible conviction.

"Enrique, would you be so kind as to accompany Johnny to the infirmary?"
The blonde nodded, his arms still tightly around the boy, even though he was no longer putting up a fight.
"Oliver, go with them, please. We will join you there shortly."
The green-haired Parisian smiled, happy to help in any way he could - and if that meant leaving the room so that Robert and Michael could be alone together, then he would. "Sure."

The three left the room amidst Johnny's insistence that Michael hadn't (and couldn't) hurt him - despite the tell-tale trickle of blood from his split lip; and Oliver shut the door behind them, leaving the pair to their privacy.

Robert cupped Michael's chin in his palms, his fingers running up either side of the boy's face.
"Why?" He asked. "Why must you always disobey me?"
"I didn't mean to hit him. He just wouldn't let up..."
"I am not talking about that." The knight pulled his guest close, so close their foreheads touched. "I am talking about leaving your room when you were told to stay there. How can I protect you when you will not listen to me?"

When they kissed, Robert tasted blood in Michael's mouth, and it only reinforced his argument.

"I'm sorry... I'm sorry for everything." The American boy wrapped his arms around his taller companion, his words muffled as he spoke into his chest. "Johnny's right - I don't belong here."
"I do not care what he thinks. I want you here." Robert returned the embrace. "We should get those injuries looked at."
"I'm okay. He barely touched me." His guest lied. He would have said anything just to stay in Robert's arms for as long as possible.

"I think we should still make sure you are all right. That cut on your forehead looks bad."
"I'm okay." Michael insisted. "The doctors are only going to tell me off again, and I can get that at home."

The knight tightened his grip at the mentioning of the boy's return to America.
"Besides," He continued, "I can think of much better things to do..."