"Crossword" by thebirdgod
Disclaimer: I do not own Beyblade or the characters contained within Beyblade. Also, most crossword questions came from the Courier Journal, a newspaper in Kentucky.
Pairings: JohnnyxRobert, MiguelxKai, TalaxClaude, SpencerxBryan
Notes: This is the third chapter to "Crossword". As before, love comments, not so much love going on for flames, and there is a chance that I won't read flames, because I'm busy. Which is why I feel the need to say that the next chapter of this story may be a little while in coming, because between school and work, it's hard to find time for good quality writing. Just hang in there with me and I'll do my best to keep up!
I'd also like to thank CaSinfonikerchen for the lovely review, and for everyone else who has taken the time to read the story. I hope this chapter lives up to your expectations!
thebirdgod
Chapter 3 59 Across
Halfway through the flight, Tala had eventually, and with much reluctance, returned from the bathroom with Claude, both sporting very interesting hickies along their necks, though Tala's were harder to see underneath the collar of his orange and white jumpsuit. Despite that, they decided to sit next to each other, quietly whispering to one another about future events.
In the meantime, Robert had retrieved a second round of drinks for the passengers, and smiling despite the circumstances. Kai even gave him a quiet compliment, which the German thanked him for, genuinely. He felt like such a freak in this get up, and it upset him to no end that Enrique would make him wear such a thing, to go so far as to blackmail him even! 'At least,' Robert thought as he headed back to his seat to buckle in for descent, 'at least Johnny seemed to like it. He didn't sound too much like he was joking.' The German blushed for a moment before shaking himself out of his reverie, and lowered his lithe frame into the cushioned seat next to a now dozing McGregor.
Gently, Robert leaned over his sleeping friend, being careful to buckle him in as well without waking him. Johnny looked serene in his sleep, the way his chin rested on a scarred fist, head tilted slightly to the side. 'He looks so peaceful,' Robert mused to himself as he leaned back, 'I'll loathe waking him up in a few minutes.'
*~*
As soon as the plane landed, the German had bolted towards the bathroom, after receiving his previous clothes from their captor, a green headed Frenchman who was going to get it for sure tonight, for going along with his lover's devious plan.
He returned to the group in a pair of washed, dark jeans and a form fitting, white polo with the brands emblem on the left breast of its cotton material. He looked very posh, in Johnny's opinion, who had stayed behind, Robert's duffel in hand along with his own.
"Glad to be out of your hostess get up?"
"Did I look that bad?" Robert asked, surprised, though he couldn't ascern whether it was from the statement, or the fact that Johnny was being polite enough to continue carrying the German's bag as they began exiting the plane, leaving Enrique to park it in a nearby hangar.
The Scot chuckled, "No, no, you looked very good. I dare say even delicious in the hostess outfit," the redhead cast him a curious glance, "it just seemed like you were really uncomfortable, even with the 'I-am-Robert-Jurgen-not-even-a-dress-can-prevent-my-manliness' attitude."
Robert ran a hand through his hair, now hanging undaunted from his head now that the hat and pins had been removed. It fell in soft, wavy portions around his head as he returned the glance, making eye contact with the handsome man before him, "I do not fancy being humiliated in front of our not so close friends."
Johnny shrugged in response, shifting his bag on his shoulder a bit out of anxiousness. For a while, they walked in a comfortable silence as they headed out to meet their friends, and the awaiting limo outside.
The Scot wasn't really sure why his best friend was so uncomfortable with the hostess costume, or why he even felt he had been humiliated. Robert had looked good, sinfully so, and everyone on the plane would admit it; so why all the drama.
'Probably has something to do with his psychotic mother,' the redhead grumbled inwardly to himself. He was not a big fan of Jessica, though he typically didn't have to deal with her much, since the recent divorce kept her far from the Jurgen household; the prenuptial certainly had been a wonderful gift of foresight.
Robert's father wasn't so bad though, very laid back and considerate in regards to his only son. Sure, the man wanted his heir to have children, but not at the cost of his own happiness; so what if his only heir was gay? So long as he didn't marry a psycho (Bryan anyone?) Mr. Jurgen was fairly certain they could work things out as they progressed.
Johnny was shaken from his thoughts as Enrique, and a slightly flushed Oliver, climbed into the limo. The Frenchman pretended not to notice the obvious stares, and elbowed his smirking lover in the side heavily, mumbling something in Italian that only Robert and the redhead seemed to catch. Robert promptly spat out the water he had taken a sip of, and Johnny turned to give them his full attention.
"You just did what in the bathroom?!" he asked, surprise and amusement both etched across his features. Features of which Robert found himself admiring.
Soon all occupants of the limo who hadn't already been watching the pair, joined in, a barrage of questions and assumptions ringing out in the spacious limo. The commotion allowed a private moment between two best friends, the redhead of which leaned close enough just for his German companion to hear, and more so whispered in Gaelic, of which only he himself and Robert understood (Gaelic was a language which Enrique and Oliver had never had the aptitude to pick up), "~There, now, that ought to teach them about blackmailing you.~"
"~You certainly are getting a little more devious than usual, I'm touched.~"
'Oh, I'd love to be touching you all right,' Johnny thought, his eyes running over the now smirking lips of his crush, 'lots and lots of touching.'
"~Sit back and enjoy the show.~"
*~*
Oliver had never thought he'd be so glad to see his countryside abode as he was when he climbed out of the still buzzing limo, it's occupants still sharing juicy gossip over what they thought had happened in the plane after they had left. The Frenchman was more than a little annoyed with Johnny, but, considering the way the Scot had been whispering to their amethyst haired friend, in Gaelic no less, he figured he'd let it slide and take one for the team. It was, in one way or another, a fairly good start on the long road of getting that particular pair together; especially with the redhead being so stubborn.
The green haired man shrugged off his wandering thoughts and began showing everyone to their rooms, allowing them to settle in before he began their pool party. Explaining that everyone would be paired up, as the estate was not as extensive as perhaps one of Robert's, the Frenchman began listing off the pairings.
"Obviously Enri is with me, Robbie's with Johnny," the man put a hand on his hip, "Tala and Claude, Kai and Miguel, you two seem to get along; Spencer and Bryan, because I don't want to die….Ian and Aaron, hopefully you won't blow him up in his sleep; and Mathilda you shall have your own room, because as our only femme fatale for your trip I dare not put you in a room with such temptation."
"Even if the majority of men in the room are batting for the other team," Aaron stated flatly. He and Ian were the only two straight men in the room, and they only could assume Mathilda was straight herself.
"There now!" Enrique announced, clapping his hands together, "Off with you, and Oli and I shall begin dinner preparations!"
"Wash your hands first please!" Aaron called back over his shoulder, causing the majority of the group to laugh hysterically.
Oliver began to rethink getting Robert and Johnny together; punishment for the current shade of red his face had just took on.
*~*
Robert sat himself down in a lounge chair on the farthest side of the pool, a book tucked under his arm as kicked off his sandals and leaned back, letting the shade of the umbrella offer some relief to the heat of the day. He waited patiently for his companion to seat himself as well, the redhead's eyes glued to his newspaper as he scribbled with his left hand answers across its grayish page.
Johnny sat down in a chair as well; one on Robert's left, out from under the umbrella. He stretched long, muscled legs out, his dark green board shorts covering him from thigh to knee, his white tank top covering up the defined torso the German desperately wished to see.
The pair sat in comfortable silence, Robert lost in the world of his book, Johnny consumed with the need to complete his newest crossword puzzle, the occasional tapping of his pen against his leg sometimes pulling his companion out of his reverie.
"Hey…" he whispered quietly, not wanting to distract from the tranquility of their solitude (that was with the exception of Oliver's bustling back and forth between the grill and the kitchen).
"Hmmm?"
"Shakespearean Prince?"
"Hamlet, I think. I was never a big Shakespeare fan. Bit of a perverted sod, if you ask me."
Johnny scribbled down the answer, before continuing his quest for solutions to the puzzle. After another five minutes of pen tapping, he let out an annoyed huff.
"Give up?" Robert asked, lifting his mahogany eyes from the tantalizing pages of his book to watch his redheaded companion.
"For now, maybe a swim will help me clear my head." With that, the Scot stood up and in what seemed like slow motion for Robert, pulled away the white tank top, and revealed washboard abs and prominent pectorals…and was that a piercing?
Indeed it was, attached to Johnny's left nipple was a small, silver hoop, gleaming in the sun's rays. The German blinked, "Jonathan…is your nipple pierced?"
"Yeah, it's kind of recent, the other one I was telling you about earlier this week, remember?"
Oh, Robert remembered alright, and he was quite relieved knowing that it was most definitely not a bar through the tip of Johnny's penis; though, as he has not seen his friend's penis, he's not particularly sure that is a safe assumption, especially at the rate he seems to be getting piercings lately.
The German took a long moment to bask in the glory of his companion. Johnny was certainly very, very attractive. The piercings weren't the only things keeping Robert's undivided attention, but also the Scot's tattoos, the first being a simple Celtic knot around both his right and left biceps, ink dancing when those muscles were flexed; the second and third being symmetrical, placed starting at the tops of his hips, running down along the insides of his jutting hip bones and disappearing beneath board shorts, leaving the German to wonder exactly how far down they went. They were simple tribal versions of salamanders, in honor of his bit beast; black like his Celtic knots, and along the same style.
Robert's eyes trailed along the tattoos before returning to meet the eyes of their owner; the German cast him a smile and accepted the offered tank top, setting it down next to him, but not before catching the distinct scent that was Johnny's clinging to it's cotton material. And with that the redhead dived head first into the pool's clear water, surfacing a while later at the other end of the pool.
*~*
The first set of people to arrive outside at the pool had been Kai and Miguel, who found their hosts all spread about around the pool. Oliver was as predicted, standing next to the grill, a frilly white apron tied around his narrow waist, his hair pulled back in a low ponytail as he busily prepared their dinner. Enrique was not far away, coming in and out of the French doors with platters of food his petite lover requested. The Italian took the orders quite well for someone who was a supposed playboy.
On the other side of the pool lay their two other hosts, Johnny, whom was handing his German companion a pen and newspaper, so that he could jump into the crystal clear pool. And of course Robert was stretched out on his lounge chair in his plaid swim trunks and blue tank top, a copy of Ivanhoe open in his lap as he moved to secure the newspaper on top, intent on answering a few questions for his redheaded friend.
Kai found himself wandering over to take a seat next to Robert, watching entranced as Miguel, the tanned, gorgeous Adonis peeled off his t-shirt and dove in, intent seemingly on dunking Johnny. The Russian found himself smiling softly at the sight, and settled down into the chair to secretly watch the blue-eyed heartthrob.
Robert noticed this particular little interest, and whilst reading through a few of the unanswered questions on the crossword puzzle, stated quietly, "Someone has a crush…military decoration….."
Kai's head snapped around, eyes wide and sending a startled gaze towards the amethyst haired man. He opened his mouth to deny the accusation, when suddenly Robert cried out.
Johnny snapped to attention and panicked, asked what was wrong as he swam over to that side of the pool.
"Sorry to cause alarm," Robert said sheepishly at his friend, "it's just that 59 across is medal. I had a blond moment."
"Hey!" Miguel cried out, looking a tad put out, but smiling his typical dazzling smile.
"No offense meant." Robert replied before returning his attention to the task at hand. Once Johnny had swam back over and began a vicious assault on his Spanish companion, the German picked up where he had left off, "He's going to eventually notice that you're staring at him, you know. Not that I blame you or anything."
"Don't you-" Kai began, outraged at the very idea of someone else looking at Miguel.
"Oh, come on now. Miguel's not whom I stare at." Came the soft reply, the German lifted his gaze briefly to Kai's, and then nodded his head in the direction of his redheaded companion, who had begun doing laps in the pool in a race against their Spanish friend.
Realization dawned on the Russian and he made a small 'o' in acknowledgement, though he was notably surprised at the German's openness over the situation. "In a way I guess that sort of makes sense," Kai stated, tilting his head to the side in though, "I mean, he's a hothead, stubborn, and rude, and you're polite, calm and collected. Opposites must really attract."
Robert snorted at him. "I don't think that applies unless both parties share mutual feelings for one another. I have a hunch this relationship is one-sided." The German set aside Johnny's newspaper and returned to his book, finding comfort in the yellowed pages.
Kai noted the silence, and felt it best to leave the amethyst haired man to himself for now. The Russian knew what it felt like, to have feelings for someone who very well would probably never reciprocate said feelings; he hoped for Robert's sake that Johnny had at least a tiny crush on his friend.
Shortly after what Kai deemed his 'heart to heart' with Robert, Bryan appeared with Tala, the two conversing quietly amongst each other over something Kai was certain he didn't want to know about, especially with the way they kept looking towards him with those devious smirks. However, the Russian was distracted from his suspicious thoughts when a delightedly welcome voice called to him.
"Hey Kai, why don't you get in with me?"
For a moment, the dual haired blader almost took the question in a most inappropriate manner, but quickly collected himself and replied, "I don't like swimming."
"Nonsense, everyone likes swimming!"
"Give it a rest Miguel," Tala called out as he snagged his recently procured lover around the waist, "Kai doesn't know how to swim."
"That's fine. Come on Kai, I'll teach you how."
"I'd really rather not…"
"Please?"
Damn Spaniard. Damn him and his ridiculously gorgeous eyes, and that sinfully tanned skin over delicious looking muscles. And damn that pouting lip all to hell. With a great sigh of reluctance, and briefly casting Robert a look of absolute desperation, he trudged his way over to the blond man.
Miguel's pout turned into a stunning smile, and he extended his arms to Kai after the Russian had tugged off his top. The crimson eyed man looked very uneasy as he slowly slid into the water, hands grasping Miguel's biceps in a vice grip, clinging to him in desperation as the Spaniard kicked away from the wall, the Russian in his arms.
Johnny smirked before removing himself from the pool, catching the towel Robert tossed at him. The German took a brief moment to admire the way the droplets weaved their way down from his crimson locks over bold pectorals and through trenches between abdominal muscles.
The Scot sat down in the sunlight as before, enjoying the warm rays on his damp skin. "Did you figure anymore out?"
"I only glanced at it briefly, so no, just 59 across."
"Better than me though," Johnny replied, draping an arm over his eyes to shield them from the bright natural light cascading from cloudless skies. "I think Ian's up to something again." He said offhandedly.
"Really?" Robert replied, wondering how he had missed the appearance of Spencer, Ian, Aaron and Mathilda. 'I was probably drooling over Johnny's wet body,' he thought to himself in annoyance, berating his weakness and lack of attentiveness.
"Yeah, after his locking Claude and Tala in the jet's bathroom, I kind of figured he was playing matchmaker. It doesn't help that he's lurking in the pool right now."
"Is that why you got out?"
"I'd rather not be there when he pisses Kai and Miguel off. Especially Kai, he'll probably roast him alive with Dranzer."
Robert glanced back at the pool; Ian was very much looking devious, and the German had a feeling that there would soon be a massive explosion from the crimson eyed Russian playing innocent in the water. Then again, if Kai gets Ian first, perhaps the purple haired Russian will be less inclined to meddle in the German's affairs. But, Robert, being the knight in shining armor that he is, felt the sudden urge to bail Kai out of the oncoming tragedy.
"We should play a game," Robert stated suddenly, turning his gaze to Johnny, "a pool game. What's that one where you try to shove people over whilst sitting on someone else's shoulders?"
Johnny blinked. "Chicken? You want to play chicken?"
Robert gave a sheepish smile, "I really don't want Ian to ruin Kai's moment with Miguel. They don't need his interfering," the German added with a sigh, "they seem to be doing fine on their own."
Johnny followed his gaze. "Yeah…so chicken it is."