A/N: This chapter will be OC centred. If that's not your thing you can skip this one. No hard feelings. Never thought I would join the OC cult, but I'm having too much fun torturing Wyatt's poor brother. I hope you are having equally as much fun reading about it.

-x-x-x-

A Serbian Love Story

Drago was laying it on awfully thick, but through no fault of his own. Bryce was failing to pick up on any of his subtext, which Drago seemed to, optimistically and a little hesitantly, interpret as him playing cool.

"Bro, he's into you."

Bryce shook his head. "There is no way."

"He's into you." I confirmed. "Slavs don't smile unless they're happy to see you."

Enrique was keeping suspiciously silent. Could it be he had matured enough to not be possessive of a guy he already rejected?

"It can't be. Just look at him and at me. We are no match. We would look klutzy and awful together."

He said with conviction although there was a wishful dreaminess in the way he spoke, as though hoping for us to keep encouraging him. Bryce wanted to keep on living the fantasy in which he could get with Drago. But that was all he saw it as, an unobtainable dream.

"Hey, don't insult our looks, twin, I was able to land this guy." Wyatt playfully threw his arm around my waist and squeezed my ass. It took all my self-control to supress an excited squeak.

"But you're cool." Bryce muttered under his breath.

"And you have the potential of being cool." Wyatt lied bluntly. In the background Enrique was vehemently shaking his head.

"I am incapable. I overthink everything I do."

"Just ask him if he's free to hang out and go with the flow. The language barrier should help. Don't think he understands half of what you're saying."

Bryce threw up his hands. "Then what do I even say?"

"He's from Belgrade. Ask him to show you around town."

"I did want to visit the fortress." He pondered softly.

"No. No nerdy culture crap. Ask him if he knows of a chill place to catch a drink."

"Like a dive bar?"

"Exactly. Just don't go quoting facts you read on museum displays. Nobody wants to hear that."

"It's 9 in the morning."

"Then do something different. But do it now." Wyatt pressed him, seemingly in disbelief of his own persuasion skills.

Bryce buried his head in his arms and tugged at a strand of hair at the nape of his neck.

"I can't." He huffed into nowhere.

"Why not?"

"He's with his team. It's too embarrassing."

"They just left." Oliver remarked.

Despite his best efforts to act aloof, his French heritage did not allow him to ignore a passionate romance.

Bryce let out a breath he had been holding in. His features softened as the tension evaporated.

"I can't run after him." He insisted.

Wyatt grabbed him by the collar and ruthlessly threw him off his chair. Bryce landed on all fours.

"Are you mad?"

"Now push me. It will look tough. Do it now before he gets in the elevator."

Bryce just beat the dust off his knees, and walked off, shaking his head. It was an even smoother exit than the one Wyatt had set up for him. That was, until Bryce started to jog, with limp arms angled at the elbows, in a way that uncomfortably reminiscent of a T-rex

Drago looking surprised and a little amused, politely held the door open for him. Bryce, for reasons that went beyond my understanding, then fired finger guns at him.

"Hola! What's good in the hood?"

Drago stared back at him blankly. Not his fault. No level of English understanding would have helped make sense of what he had just witnessed.

"What floor?"

"Um. Six."

Bryce shamefully tucked his finger guns back in his pockets and tapped his foot anxiously. Just as all looked lost, a ghost of a smile formed on Drago's lips, that soon turned into soft laughter.

"You are funny man."

"Do you want to go to a dive bar with me?" Bryce burst out awkwardly.

"You want to go swimming?" Drago asked perplexed.

"No. Drink. With you. Somewhere cool. Do you know of a place?" Bryce stammered.

We never heard the conclusion as the elevator doors snapped shut in that moment. Judging by how his lips had curled upwards, Drago's answer was obvious to everyone watching.

"Aw. I'm so proud of my baby brother."

"You're twins." I remarked.

"I'm still a few minutes wiser than him."

-x-x-x-

For the first time in probably his life, Bryce showed up late for assembly. And slightly tipsy on top of that.

He apologised profusely, even taking a bow. None of us were bothered much. Oliver was chainsmoking cigarettes, his skinny wrist dangling over the railing as he carelessly ashed onto the arena. How had I not noticed how thin he had gotten since last year? Johnny was in the corner doing push-ups, with Robert shouting commands at him in German. Only Enrique slouched on the bench, porno mag hidden in a copy of the bible, looking bitter.

Wyatt jumped up to greet his twin with an electrifying hug.

"How did it go?" He asked ecstatically.

"Wonderful. We went to this roof terrace by the historical bridge. I don't know if it was a legal establishment or someone's house but it had live music and a great atmosphere. We even danced. Drago said he took me there because he noticed I have a knack for cultural landmarks. How attentive is that?"

"Based on how you won't shut up about architecture that only proves he's not braindead." Enrique snubbed him.

Bryce did not let it get to him, his head was in the clouds. He did not even have to pretend and it was bugging Enrique to the core.

"Drago likes that I'm so knowledgeable about his city. He says most people judge Serbs for the war and all they want to talk about is recent history. He thinks it's admirable how I made an effort to get informed."

"It's polite of him to pretend." Remarked a pouty Enrique.

"He's not pretending. He says he would study archaeology and become a tour guide if he had the money."

"What money?"

"To go to university."

"I hope you did not offer. You already have one gold digger in the family."

"Fuck off, Enrique." I spat at him.

He elbowed me in the ribs. "Don't get testy. I was talking about Melania."

"Drago is not milking me for money." Bryce defended him. "This is what the situation is like post civil war, and he is not sugar coating his circumstances. I appreciate how straight forward he is. It's refreshing, considering the people we have grown up with."

Bryce had inadvertently fired a shot directly at the Majestics, but lucky for him, they were too taken by their own hubris to notice.

Keen to get on with the briefing, he unceremoniously pulled some neatly stapled stacks of paper out of his briefcase and made us pass them around like school kids, until we each held one copy. He even made one for Wyatt so he would feel included. Though I wished he hadn't. I would not mind sharing.

The print-out was redundant anyway, as Bryce disappeared for a minute, only to emerge with blackboard.

"I have thought long and hard..."

A snort came from the audience.

"Long and hard." Enrique kackled. Bryce ignored him.

"...about the line-up against Team Budweiser."

"Who?" Oliver asked, to whom even reading a schedule was alien.

Once again, I became aware of how fundamentally different our upbringing had been. While affluent, Grandpa had insisted I rank below the butler and not permitted me to give orders.

"They are the Polish team. The Budweiser company plans to demolish a nature reserve to set up their European distribution centre, so they sponsored a local team to get the council on board."

"How uncultured." Robert remarked. I was not sure if he referred to corporate sponsorship or American beer.

Bryce was unperturbed.

"The bladers participating in the upcoming match will be: Rober, Johnny, and Kai. We will test this arrangement against Team Budweiser, make adjustments to the order if needed, but I am confident this set-up will allow us to hold our own against the Drag Racers too."

Enrique rose up from his bench.

"But I'm the one who got you this position." He protested, truly hurt.

"And I won't abuse my position to repay any favours."

"It's what's best for the team." I said, ending the discussion.

I was very much done with accommodating the sore loser. Without blowing my own horn, I would say Bryce made the right call for the line-up. We were starting off with Robert, keeping the momentum going with Johnny, leaving me to finish off our unsuspecting victims. This strategy was guaranteed to advance us to the finals. With the Blitzkrieg boys out of commission, the only viable threat were the Bladebreakers.

But Enrique would not have it and spent the remainder of the assembly shooting daggers at his newly confident ex.

-x-x-x-

After our training session, Enrique discretely pulled Wyatt and I aside.

"Is it just me or is there something fishy about this Drago character."

I rolled my eyes. "It's just you."

Wyatt however was not so quick to dismiss his paranoia.

"My brother is more of an acquired taste. Is it unsupportive of me to be suspicious when suddenly this guy shows up who gushes over all his quirks like that?"

Enrique nodded enthusiastically.

"Right on! Bryce likes history and he just happens to be an aspiring archaeologist? What are the odds?"

"He did wear that traditional vest at the opening ceremony. It's not like that interest came out of nowhere." I defended the seductive slav.

"He calls my brother cool."

"He has gotten cool."

"I've got an off feeling about this. We still don't know how Drago managed to defeat Takao with that invisible attack." Enrique said, speaking sense for once.

I had not even thought about it since the night it happened, back then I also had my suspicions. Was I too getting swept up in wishful thinking? Failing to see anything other than the fantasy I had crafted for my friend?

"If it's too good to be true there is something wrong with it." Wyatt stated sombrely.

"I will keep an eye out for clues." I promised.

While I was not as invested in the mystery as he was, I was stoked to pursue a common goal.

-x-x-x-

The following day, the three of us assembled in the arena to watch the Drag Racers go up against the team from Pakistan. We hoped to get a closer look at Drago's special move.

Bryce came up to us with a big smile on his face, ineptly stumbling through the rows of spectators. In his hurry, he unknowingly spilled some guy's drink who promptly cursed him out.

"What's with you today?" Enrique asked irritably.

"I'm still high. You won't believe what I did today."

"Drugs?"

"No, I'm high on adrenaline. I got my nipple pierced."

"You what?" Enrique and Wyatt shouted in unison.

Bryce unbuttoned his neatly ironed blouse and flashed a sparkly silver ring.

Wyatt gasped.

"No fucking way! That's a fake, isn't it?" Enrique scoffed.

"No, it's real, you can touch it if you like." He smirked, then precautiously added: "In six months, when it's fully healed."

"What are Mom and Dad gonna say?" Wyatt exclaimed.

"I don't know. And I don't care. Drago thinks I'm edgy." Bryce announced victoriously.

"He's lying." Enrique remarked. Bryce ignored him. His head was in the clouds and he was speaking in a dreamy voice.

"He's so affectionate, he was not too proud to hold my hand throughout it." He told us.

"It's not fair." Wyatt howled. "I used to be the fun twin!" He buried his face in my shoulder, like an emu sticking its head in the sand.

"If it helps, I believe both of you should be medicated." Enrique said, while indiscreetly fondling Julia's ass, making sure Bryce could see him do so.

"And I believe you should be castrated." Wyatt snarked back.

Julia giggled. "I second that."

I felt like I was betraying Bryce in thinking so, but Enrique's new girl was cool. She was not putting up with any of his shit and it was doing him well. Bryce was better off with Drago anyway, who brought out the best in him and supported his interests. After months of sucking up rejection, Bryce finally met a guy who was keeling over him the same way he was. There was nobody more deserving of letting his hair down.

"Did Drago get anything done as well?" Enrique inquired.

"No, but he's already got these rad flames tattooed on his shoulder blades."

"Fuck. That's so cool." I swooned.

"Don't get any ideas." Wyatt reprimanded me.

Enrique kept needling Bryce.

"I thought you hate tattoos."

"Sexy is sexy. The flames are not the only part of him that's fire, if you know what I mean."

"Gross."

He grinned. "Besides, I did not like piercings either and look at me now."

"I am, and you look like a tool."

Bryce shrugged and buttoned his shirt back up.

"Well, I'm not trying to appeal to you anyway. Since you're so straight, why don't you keep your thoughts to yourself, and stick to snogging your girlfriend?"

He let a bit too much of his saltiness slip. Julia raised her arms defensively.

"Don't drag me into this, personally I think it's cool, honey." She stretched out her hand.

"Peace?"

For his sake I prayed he could see what she was going for, he was not the brightest when it came to social norms.

"She's lying. You're lame."

Bryce ignored his hater and, to my relief, gave Julia a smooth, almost natural fist bump. He did try to shake her knuckle for an instant.

"So, this is something you wanted?" Enrique could not let it go.

"Yes, it is." Bryce confirmed, his voice was tense.

"For how long have you been fantasising about getting your nipple pierced, exactly? It's certainly not something you ever mentioned."

"Okay you got me. I initially wanted to get a stud in my ear, but I knew Mom and Dad would be livid, so I went for something they will never see." He said with a seductive grin.

"You got a nipple ring because you were too much of a sissy to tell your parents you want your ear pierced? Yup, sounds about right. Thought you lost your way there for a moment and did something interesting, but you're still the human equivalent of filing a tax return."

Bryce smiled smugly.

"Glad that gives you some comfort."

I whistled.

My oh my, He was blooming into his own on this trip! His confidence was radiant.

"Fuck off, Hiwatari." Enrique snapped at me, since any insult directed at Bryce was being repelled as though Drago had coated him in Teflon.

Speaking of the devil, he defeated his opponent with ease, never employing his special move. Much to our disappointment.

"It's odd that he used it for the exhibition match. Rather than keeping it a secret weapon." Enrique concluded.

Naturally, Bryce jumped to defend Drago's honour.

"That's a strategy in and of itself. If he shows it too often, someone might figure out how to defeat it. But by only giving us a taste, he is psyching out his opponent. Nothing more ominous than the unknown."

"He has not confided in you then?"

Bryce gasped, appalled by the idea. "I would never ask. That would violate the spirit of competition.

"I figured you would be more inquisitive. Considering you can't walk past a church without asking the priest what quarry the rockwork was sourced from."

"It's a bit tiring to hold a conversation because of the language barrier. We mostly just have sex."

Wyatt took a big gulp from his red bull just so he could spit it out.

"Not cool. How could you lose your virginity without telling me?"

"Oh. I wanted to. But you weren't talking to me at the time."

I exchanged a guilty look with Enrique. It felt wrong keeping such a major secret from my husband.

"At the time? Is Drago not the first guy you slept with?"

"No. But he is the first guy to know what he's doing."

Bryce kept consistent eye-contact with Enrique, whose glares were like daggers. Meanwhile, Wyatt naively blabbered on.

"That sounds nice."

"Hey." I protested.

He flinched under my penetrative stare.

"Come be honest with yourself. We are both stumbling through this with the grace of a drunk frat boy."

"You're not the only ones." Julia said miserably.

Enrique's ears went red. Rather than dive into that topic, he kept pressing Bryce.

"How can you trust him without question? What if he is manipulating you?"

"What purpose would that serve? We are both clear on the restraints of our relationship. It's mostly physical."

The crowd erupted into cheers. Drago's teammate had just triumphed over the Pakistani contestant, cementing their victory. The final contestants entered the stage but their battle was only a formality. Bryce was beaming.

"I'll be off, downward dogging my Serbian body builder. Have fun talking Julia into not having sex with you."

"He won't." Julia said in a deadpan tone.

Enrique snaked his arm around her.

"We will see about that, Amiga."

"No, we won't." She said, slapping his wandering hand.

I liked her. She had a solid head on her shoulders and was blessed with the rare ability to smell bullshit. Enrique did not stand a chance in hell.

-x-x-x-

The following morning, Bryce was at my door before breakfast. Unlike Wyatt, he was an early riser. Supplies in hand, he begged me to "punk up" his hair some more. How could I refuse when he had been kind enough to bring me gifts?

"Wyatt digs the blue on you." He said confidently, pressing a bottle of azure dye in my hand.

I gratefully accepted, though I would mourn my skunk hair. I feared that my father would love me less now that it took more mental steps to associate my appearance with weed.

Bryce was mortified by my suggestion of giving him a multi-coloured mohawk.

"I prefer to just do red." A faint blush formed at the tip of his nose. He looked a little shady, but in an innocently naive way, as though he had been sneaking sweets from the candy drawer. He was tapping his foot.

"But I would like a mohawk."

I smiled.

"Good for you."

He blushed profusely. Tap, tap, tap.

As soon as I switched on the razor, he leapt for my hand.

"Don't make it too extreme! Leave it least a couple inches wide."

"Trust me." I said reassuringly.

Truth be told, I did not have a grasp on imperial units. He would not have let me touch him had he seen my report card.

I had to fight him for every millimetre, though I had the unfair advantage of being in charge of the bladed tool, and ultimately overpowered him. He did not seem to mind when he saw himself in the mirror with his spikey red mohawk.

"I love it. But why? This is not even a look I ever wanted. Why does this feel so good?" He asked me as though I was the authority on alternative style.

"It's empowering to take charge of your appearance. Especially since up until now you have let other people control it. Enjoy this victory."

He nodded hesitantly. It was hard to embrace one's own strength. His whole life he had suppressed his own identity to impress a crowd that could not even tell him apart from his brother.

I had been in his shoes once. Starting innocently enough, I had used my toenail clippers to cut a mullet. It came out alright, but I had just discovered a new thrill. Seeking to repeat the adrenaline rush, I followed up a week later by bleaching it white and subsequently found myself locked in the bathroom, too scared to go to dinner. I cowered at the edge of the bathtub, shaking, knowing full well that Grandpa would hate it. But for how much I had hyped myself up, his reaction was underwhelming.

"Why are you late for dinner?"

"Stomachache." I lied, holding my breath.

He looked at me intrusively, then shaking his head mumbled: "The things you young people do with your bodies these days." before digging into his steak.

It was the day I realised that the things we psych ourselves up over don't necessarily mean anything to others.

I reassuringly placed my hands on Bryce's shoulder. He looked up with anticipation. The pressure was grand. This would be a core memory for him.

"It is okay not to have found your look yet. Trying on different hats is an integral part of it. Just have fun. There is no rush. The important thing is that it's you calling the shots."

Yes, I was aware of the irony that I had coerced him into a proper mohawk. But I could sense what he wanted and that he would have just come back for more the next day.

He looked at me. Gears turning as he internalised the message, then smiled widely.

"Thank you Kai, for giving me the courage."

"I think it's Drago who did."

Bryce's hand instinctively shot to his nipple ring, hiding it from my view, as though he hadn't been shirtless for the past hour. Then he relaxed into the idea.

"Nah, he's just my reward." He said with a grin, contently playing with his piercing.

He looked at his own mirror image with pride, but there was something else about his demeanour. Something relaxed but indicative of a long-held breath. Relief. As he spoke, it was as though he was talking to himself.

"Thank you. For much too long I allowed my OCD to take over my personality. You have helped me reclaim myself amongst all the order."

"Consider this payback. You have helped me find myself amongst all the chaos."

After all I had been through, or likely because of it, I was a people pleaser at heart. It was ironic how Bryce had helped me stay true to myself while he had originally set out to do the opposite. I could not imagine the disastrous outcome that I would have caused without him guiding me. It was only fair I took over the mentor role. In a naughty way, I enjoyed corrupting him.

I would never have a normal childhood, but my adulthood was still in the making. As long as I had conviction, I could build the family I always longed for.

While the twins relationship with their parents had been strained by my presence, that was still a chance of reconciliation. The future was looking optimistic. Judging by how often Bryce and his mom still spoke on the phone, the parents were warming up to a reality in which their sons did not mirror their ideals.

-x-x-x-

Wyatt was much more affectionate today. During our team briefing in the locker room, he could hardly keep his hands out of my hair. Despite us having an audience. "I like it, you look like the old you."

Harsh, but better than the response Bryce got from Enrique.

"Why are you doing this to yourself?" He had questioned, nose upturned.

"What do you mean? You told me I was boring. You called me a human tax return."

"I meant to say: be more interesting. Not: turn yourself into Ziggy Stardust."

While others babied Enrique and called him misguided, I firmly believed he was a jerk, deep down. Unsurprisingly, he became even crueller after Bryce had benched him for the upcoming match.

"I don't really care what you think. We are over." Bryce finally snubbed at him.

Wyatt heroically jumped into their midst, to save what he believed was a friendship.

"Don't be so quick to dismiss him. Your life has been uprooted and it's only natural for you to internalise your experiences, and evolve. But to Ricky it is a little jarring to see his best buddy change so rapidly." He turned to the butthurt Enrique. "And you. Don't be a dick."

Enrique pouted. He was shifting around on the unfaltering wooden bench.

"I actually liked your nerdy doofus style with the patchy hair. It was cute." He whispered under his breath.

Wide-eyed, Bryce dropped his chalk, and scrambled to pick it up. While crawling under the blackboard, not knowing how to respond to this unprecedented admission, his ever-attentive gaze browsed the room in disbelief that Enrique had just complimented him in front of the team mates he tried so hard to impress. He seemed even more shocked by the realisation that Wyatt had failed to pick up on the subtext.

"Aw. I'm so glad you guys are friends again. Now kiss and make up."

Both looked away from each other, hiding their guilty disposition. Enrique crossed his arms, while Bryce beat non-existent dust off his pants.

-x-x-x-

Drago, clearly bored, dug his hand into a gap in Bryce's buttoned shit. Knowing what lay underneath, I had a sense where his eager fingers were headed. So did Bryce, who playfully slapped them.

"First wash hands."

He had long given up on the 6 months grace period. Drago nodded obediently albeit looking disappointed. He clutched him tighter and blew raspberries on nape of his neck. Bryce jerked his head back and giggled.

They were cute together. Even if due to the simplified nature of their sentences it sounded like they were barking commands at each other. It was a refreshing change to see a queer couple be so openly affectionate with each other.

Drago had no qualms wrapping his arms around Bryce or snuggling him, even when they were in public. In fact, he seemed to make more of a show of it. We had been right about him being an exhibitionist.

"It's the grip." Bryce had raved to me in private. "It's like I'm being held by a big teddy bear. I feel so safe."

Right now, we were sitting in the hotel lobby, flicking through one of Bryce's scrapbooks trying to spot my mother. Despite not having attended the wine mixer, Wyatt was eager to help. Drago was also there, eager to get into Bryce's pants and play with his nipple ring.

"I don't understand. Why we search your mother?"

I shrugged, unable to state a logical reason. I just knew I would not feel whole without her. Wyatt spoke for me.

"Kai just wants to know where he came from. -Hey, she is a redhead." He pointed at a group photo of his father looking very poised, alongside some exquisitely dressed couples. The description in Bryce's immaculate handwriting read: "Oxford College Class of 1996 Reunion".

"So is my dad. That's no guarantee. Though we should be looking at people he went to school with. That's a good start. High school though, not college."

Wyatt retracted his hand, and it was then when I spotted a fresh cut on his forearm. He instinctively pulled up his sleeve when he noticed me staring. What was that? And what just happened?

"Is her." Drago said determinately, pointing at the person standing next to Mr Smithwright.

"No, that is my stepmother, Melania, remember?"

How was I not surprised Bryce had already showed him family photos?

"No. Is her. You look alike. Same nose."

Wyatt dismissed his claim.

"Pretty sure she got plastic surgery."

Drago yawned, he prodded Bryce and mischievously bit his neck. "Rice, let's go shower sex?"

Drago could not pronounce his name, but his approximation came one letter closer with each passing day.

"We would be saving water." Bryce admitted, temptation was written across his face in bold letters.

"How altruistic of you." Wyatt remarked. "The planet will thank you."

"Go ahead, we will keep looking." I encouraged him.

Timing was good, I could use a moment with Wyatt to address the marks I had seen. While I did not know for certain what they were, I had an inkling. It was as though he could sense it.

"I'm actually gonna go take a nap." He announced.

"Now?" It was high noon.

"I want to be energised for your match."

He hid his arm behind his back, incessantly tucking at the sleeve. Our eyes met each other, and we had a moment of silent acknowledgment.

"I will come with you."

"No. You should train." He forced a smile and kissed me, though it lacked all the warmth I had grown addicted to. "Go be a champion."