Part Fifteen

Robert's first and foremost duty was to protect his charge. Not even thinking about how it would appear to everyone outside the room, he removed his shirt, bundled it up and pressed it to the wound. Quickly doing his pants up, he rose to his feet and helped Michael to his.

He was dizzy from a mixture of adrenaline, blood loss and repeatedly moving his head back and forth so fast. Still aware of his surroundings, he had the mind to grab for Trygle as he was awkwardly yanked to stand.
Slumping in Robert's arms, the knight could only just make out some of the words Michael was muttering to himself about his beautiful face and not wanting Johnny to see him in his present condition.

Robert sighed angrily. It was the boy's pride which had got him into the fight in the first place. He didn't want to embarrass him, but if they met Johnny along the way, some humility would do Michael good. The last thing Robert wanted was for him to get involved in a third fight which, going by his current pattern, he would lose.

"And give me that." Robert demanded, holding his hand out.
"What?!" The All Star asked angrily, tightening his grip on Trygle. "No!"

After what he'd just done for the knight, he expected to be treated a little nicer.

"It is the only way I can stop you from getting into trouble. I will give it back to you before you go home."
"You sound like my fourth grade teacher."
"Well then, perhaps you should have listened to your fourth grade teacher and we would not be having this argument right now."
"Robert!"

The owner of the name wasn't listening to the stream of words which followed. He was staring at Michael's mouth, lost in the thought of how much he had loved the feel of it around his most sensitive area.
"What's wrong?" The boy took the crumpled up shirt away from his forehead and looked at it before quickly putting it back on the wound.
There was a long silence before Robert realised he had been caught out. "Nothing. Nothing at all."

"Goddamn it." Johnny poked at his split lip as he studied the damage in the bathroom mirror. It was the least of his worries compared to the bruise that was slowly colouring the side of his face. "I'm going to kill Parker for this!"
"Settle down and put this back on." Oliver held out the crude ice pack Enrique had hastily thrown together from the kitchen. "I don't know why you won't go see the doctor."
"I don't need a doctor."

Enrique and Oliver exchanged angry looks. Johnny could not be reasoned with - he never listened to anyone other than Robert, and sometimes it was questionable if he took any notice of what his captain had to say anyway. They endured his swearing and rambling, occasionally offering advice they knew he wouldn't take, hoping that Robert would show up as soon as he was finished with Michael.

It was taking him a long time, Oliver noted with a mischievous grin to himself - either Michael was really hurt, or they were enjoying each other's company... long and slow, just like he'd told Robert to take it.

When the knight finally made his way to the bathroom he'd been told the three had disappeared into, his flushed face told one story, but his brows angrily knitted together told quite another.

"What have you got to say for yourself, Johnny?" He demanded, not even acknowledging his other two friends, who had jumped in fright at his sudden intrusion.
The highlander, however, took it all in his stride. "If you're looking for an apology, you're not getting one. I'm glad I hit him."
"Michael needed stitches, you know. You burst open one of his scars."
"Good." Johnny smirked before returning the ice pack to his face. "I wish I'd hit him harder."
"You and I both know that we never attack our opponents physically."
"He hit me first!"
"And you think hitting him back makes you the better man?"
"I don't like him, Robert."
"Then while you are both guests in my castle, you will stay away from him!" It was not a request, it was a shouted demand that made Johnny physically cringe.

Oliver was wrong - there were sides, and he was on the losing one.

"All right?" Robert asked for confirmation that his order had been received and understood.
"Okay, okay." Johnny nodded slowly. "I'll leave him alone - but this doesn't mean I agree with what you're doing."

There was so much more the knight wanted to say, but fearing a reprisal from his fiery friend, he gave a small bow of thanks and left the room.

Michael, severely testing his host's patience, had disobeyed Robert's request and was not in his quarters when the knight returned to check on him. Much like a caged animal, the boy grew tired of his surroundings, and was seeking out new ways to stir some excitement into his otherwise dreary life - and if it meant infuriating his master, then so be it.

Robert didn't have the patience, nor the heart, to keep him like that.

"I am so sorry." Enrique apologised as the trio of boys headed out into the gardens. "If I'd known Johnny was going to do something like that, I would've tried a lot harder to talk you out of going into the dining hall."
Michael shrugged. "Yeah, right... I would have gone in anyway."

"Are you okay? Robert said he got you pretty bad."
"I'm fine... no worse than I was before, anyway."
"Good, 'cause I was wondering..." The blonde trailed off before finding his words again. "If you'd... show me some of your baseball moves?"
Michael grinned. "Sure. I just don't know how good I'll be any more though; it's been a while."

Robert watched them from the window, snorting at Gustav's suggestion that he should join them, when inside he ached to do just that. He couldn't compare to Enrique's effervescence as he swang his makeshift bat, or Oliver's enthusiasm as he hooted and cheered like he were part of a much larger audience. It just wasn't in him to be fun.

The first time he had ever dared to let his guard down; to actually enjoy his surroundings... was when Michael had shown him true bliss earlier in the training room.

His grip tightened on the windowsill as he thought of how wonderful the feeling of wild abandon had been. He yearned to feel it again, and he hated himself for it. Since when did he - the cold, emotionless Sir Robert Jurgens - give in to desires of the flesh?

Part of him wanted to scream at Michael for making him so weak, whilst the other part wanted to scream at the mercy of the boy's sexual prowess.

It was obvious just looking at the American captain, he wasn't completely recovered from his injuries. But Robert was learning that he couldn't control him, as much as he might have wanted to. Yelling at him for disobeying orders would only make Michael angry.

So let the boy play.
He wants to.
And if he hurts himself, you may get to keep him longer...

A terrible thought... A selfish thought. What was he doing to himself?!

Robert collapsed on the leather lounge, reaching for the remote control and turning the television on. It had been left on the sports channel, and the nobleman smiled when he thought of who was obviously last watching it.

Advertisements for all sorts of sports shows flickered before his eyes, none really catching his attention until he saw a shock of burgundy hair. By popular demand, the Bladebreakers' phenomenal rise to fame in the Beyblading world was being shown in a best-of series. And Robert found himself engrossed in the highlights of the American tournament.

He had fallen asleep during the live coverage, barely managing to stay awake for the Tyson versus Steven battle, and missing the other two completely. Not that he cared back then.

Michael flashed a cheeky grin at the camera and it startled Robert as he sat riveted to the screen. His guest was not the captain of the All Starz. What he had was a meek, submissive husk of the over-confident show-off displayed on the television before him. His Michael looked and sounded exactly the same, but the fire in his beautiful blue eyes was gone.

"This kid doesn't stand a chance against me." He boasted to the reporter while preparations for the tie-breaking third match were being made. "And I speak for the entire team when I say - with my superior skills, victory will be ours!"

What had Robert done to him? Did he love Michael... or did he love the person he had forced him to become?

Lust made him want to keep the boy... but love knew he had to let him go. He reached over for the phone and dialled the long string of numbers to connect him to the All Starz' training facility.

"Judy?"
"Robert? What's wrong?"
"I think it would be best if..." He stumbled over his words, wanting to stop himself from saying them. "...if Michael returned home as soon as possible."