AUTHOR'S NOTE: This chapter has been edited to conform to the M-rated guidelines. Please visit my profile to find out where I've currently got the uncensored version stored. Thanks!

Part Three

No words needed to be spoken as their lips met; hot breaths swallowed as their tongues twined. Robert's fingers clawed at the back of Michael's shorts, blindly pulling them down as the redhead madly worked to undo them at the front.

It had been too long since either of them had felt their hearts racing like this; the anticipation before they became one...

"I love you..." The American boy gasped, strings of drool dangling from his chin as his gyrated in his lover's lap. It was not a confession he threw around to every man he had been with; he meant it just as much as he had the first time he said it to Robert.

No one made him feel like he did. It wasn't just when they made love; it was all the time. Robert's very presence was powerful, domineering, and comforting... all the things a boy with no self-control needed.

Robert never doubted he was doing the right thing, but hearing those precious words reinforced his resolve. Would the girl he was forced to marry ever say such things to him? No. Would she bounce in his lap like a whore as she said it? Hardly.

It didn't matter what his family thought of him. All that mattered was here and now.

"Michael!" Oliver leapt up, taking the American boy's hands in his and leaned in to kiss him.

It was something he was never going to get used to, and he gave Robert a guilty glance as the French boy's lips met his for a moment.

As Oliver drew back, he gave a naughty smirk.
"I guess you two will be spending some time getting settled in?"
Michael returned an equally mischievous look. "It's been taken care of."
"In the car?!"
The All Star bit his lip and gave a single nod.
"No!" The smaller boy gasped, on the verge of laughing. "Come. I've just put some tea on... you have to tell me all about it."

He linked his elbow with Michael's and led him out of the room.

Robert stared after them, frowning. His guest had been in his house for all of one minute, and Oliver had already whisked him away. And worst of all, to talk about their private moment. It still amazed him just how comfortable the two boys were with having those kinds of conversations.

It would, however, give him a chance to take a bath, for which he was grateful. Michael revelled in it, but Robert would never get used to the smell of sex hanging on him like thick, sticky cologne.

The boys' laughter could be heard through the corridors of the castle, as they regaled each other with stories of their latest sexual escapades. Michael's stories were tame by comparison, but Oliver enjoyed watching him sigh over his captain. It was the difference between love and lust.

The little French boy was as deviant as he was cute - nothing that Enrique didn't already know as he pulled up a chair with them.
"You're not telling him that story, are you?" The blonde joined in. "I'm sure Michael doesn't need to be traumatised this early into his stay!"

"Says the guy who thinks a ménage à trois is just another night." Oliver took a sip of his tea.
"I'm not going to confirm or deny that." The Italian gave a cheeky grin, "A gentleman doesn't kiss and tell."

"Yeah, right." Johnny spat, wandering into the room and throwing himself down in a chair in the corner - as far away from the rest of the group as he could be. "Since when have you been a gentleman?"

"Have you come to tell us a story, Johnny?" Oliver already knew the answer before he asked; he just liked to tease his teammate.
"Why don't you just fuck right off?"

The green-haired boy got away with a lot of cheek purely because of good timing, and Robert rarely heard the catalyst for Johnny's swearing. The master of the castle stood in the doorway, with that same look of disdain he always wore when dealing with his fiery teammate's outbursts.

His hair was still damp from his bath, and it hung down the sides of his face in long purple clumps. It made Michael's heart skip a beat to see him looking so... wild. The last time he had seen Robert look so messy was when they had taken a shower together in his apartment back in America.

He had taught Robert a couple of things that day. It made him shiver just thinking about how good it had felt to have his legs wrapped around his lover's waist; their wet bodies so slippery against each other...

Oliver knew that look, and gave his own little smirk as his eyes darted between the lovers. He wished he had someone to look at him with complete adoration like that. He would have to ask Michael later about the memory that made his eyes cloud.

"Please do not speak like that in my house, Johnny. We have a guest present."
"Is that what we're calling him?"

It was better to ignore him than attempt an argument. Right or wrong, Johnny never backed down from a fight. Robert cast a warning glance at Michael, hoping he wouldn't respond, but the Scot knew exactly how to rile him.

"What is your problem, McGregor?" The All Star rose to his feet.
Oliver reached over and put his hand gently on his arm, in a silent attempt to stop him. They had come to physical blows when Michael first stayed at the castle, and their relationship hadn't improved much since.

"You are my problem, Parker." Johnny spat the surname like it hurt his high-born mouth to say something so common. "Why are you even here, anyway?"

Every time... every single time they were in the same room together, they fought; Robert's best friend, and his boyfriend. They were too much alike.
"Enough!" He shouted, "Be quiet - both of you!"

He never chose sides; he treated them both like they were annoyances, which was the most frustrating part for such fierce rivals, as they pouted in their respective corners.

Determined not to let the room sink into an uncomfortable silence, Oliver offered his host some tea. The knight took a sip, and his frown softened. It was the best reaction the little French boy could hope for from his captain, especially while Johnny and Michael were still scowling at each other.

"I hear you've quit your baseball team?" Enrique asked their guest. "Who am I going to impress my girls with now? Our trips to the U.S. aren't going to be anywhere near as exciting."
Robert turned to Michael, worried. "You never told me about that."
The American shrugged it off sadly. "After the All Starz placed so badly in the first World Tournament, we lost a lot of funding. I had to make a choice between baseball and Beyblading... we all had to make that choice."

It was common knowledge the All Starz were no longer incorporating sports into their blading techniques, and he wasn't telling them anything they wouldn't have found out if they watched more television and played less chess.

"Do you think that was the right decision?" Enrique didn't mean to be rude to him, but there really was no other way to compliment the boy's prowess on the field, without insulting his performance in the Beystadium.
Michael raised an eyebrow, "Is that a challenge?"

From his quiet corner, Johnny couldn't hold back an amused snort, "Enrique would kick your sorry ass."

"No, no." The Italian boy put his hands up defensively and plastered a goofy smile on his face. "It's just that you're an amazing ball player."
"Yeah..." Michael agreed, more regretful than arrogant. "I know..."

AUTHOR'S NOTE: I'm so sorry I've been gone for so long. I was turning into someone I really didn't like for a while there, and I vanished from public view to sort my attitude out. But... on a happier note, I wasn't completely dormant with my writing during that time. I've got a good amount of the next couple of chapters written, and I just have to link them all up. ^_^ You'll start seeing some references to the G-Revolution timeline soon... and that's where my favourite - the gritty, gritty angst - begins.