Imagine Me With You..

BY : Resting-Madness
Category: Beyblade > Yaoi - Male/Male
Dragon prints: 159
Disclaimer: Disclaimers: I do not own the series Beyblade. I didn't create anything in their world. I also make no profit from this story. We clear? Cool.

There isn't a cloud in the bright blue sky. Despite the sun shining brilliantly overhead, there's no heat radiating. It's not cool enough for a jacket, not warn enough to complain. It's just one of those rare beautiful Spring days. So perfect to do things. So perfect for doing nothing.

"Mm…"

It was not a declaration of salvation over the scent of food, rather an intone of someone hard asleep, not wanting to get up, and definitely…

"Gonna be late for school, Tyson!"

With a groan, Tyson mumbled into his pillow. "I'd rather use my speed to not be late for breakfast." Blurred vision gazed out the window. Nice day. Smiling he closed his eyes once again. Not for long.

"I said up and at 'em! Don't make me re-repeat myself!" his grandfather dropped his foot down over his back, giving the teen a good hard stomp. Most 17 year olds need one now and then. Some more than others.

"Ohhh, what's for breakfast gramps? Not more cereal, I'm not that late."

"Nope. You've got that tournament later; I made you a full protein packed breakfast and lunch."

"Suweet!" Carrying his pillow out of the room with him. Tyson yawned into his palm.

"In 3… 2.. 1.."

"Whoa!"

Thump. Bump. Bump. Blap. Every late morning his grandson thinks he can continue doze until he's got food in his mouth, and down the stairs he falls, pillow and all. Thankfully, Humpty Dumpty only falls down four little stairs. The old traditional style home is a flat; however, it was built on a slight slope of land, so once you leave the bedrooms there is a four step dip before you're back at ground level.

Growling, Tyson snapped. "Who puts stairs in a flat? Ever heard of an incline ramp! God knows I'll need one if I keep tripping down the stairs." He can see himself now, all-star Kendo master… in a wheelchair. Not cool. Although, it would pretty sick to be the first!

Tyson was Googling the curiosity of the first place holding when his grandfather entered the kitchen. Grey, but sharp, the 67 year old gave his grandson a whiff, before proceeding to fix himself a plate of food.

"You shower last night?"

"You know I did, I was working out for the exam."

"Good. I was beginning to wonder if you were waking up, getting ready, then falling back into bed just to razz me."

Brows furrowed, Tyson said around a mouthful of eggs and sweet sausage. "Gramps, would you join us in this century. Nobody calls it that.. I'm guessing ever."

"Hazing? Giving the business? What is it you kids say? Punking."

Groaning in horror, the teen got up from his chair. "Thanks for breakfast." Chugging the orange juice, he set the glass down. "See you after school."

"Later, dude."

Bag dangling wildly behind him like a friend or love that can't keep up even with a held hand, Tyson departed for the school at top speed.

"Arf! Arf!"

Tyson barked a greeting right back at the fence tracing mutt. It was the same thing every morning. To be far, the tone of the bark had changed after the teen paused on his way to school, then offered the dog some happily taken treats. It's now more of a 'Nice day. Oh me, I'm fine. Got anymore treats?'. Sometimes he does, most of the time he doesn't. But the dog still puts on a smile. Just incase.

"Max!" He picked up his pace until able to throw his arms around a spike-haired blond, who's a mix of Japanese and American, on his mother's side. At times would come out for a visit. "Did you bring it?"

"Yup." Reaching into his backpack, he removed a notebook. "A fool-proof study guide that even a nitwit can comprehend. Courtesy of yours truly."

"You're a lifesaver. I haven't been able to study at all while preparing for the Kendo tournament." He flips through the notebook, reading over some equations.

"I do what I can." With a laugh he adds. "Remember on my birthday and Christmas."

"Mandatory coal coming right up."

Laughing, Max shoved his friend forward. They greet two of their other friends, Ozuma and Kai, as they make their way to Maiyama T. High School.

….

"I'm not competitive enough to stay in the storm of rubber and flesh." Max replied when Tyson wandered over to the bench, telling his exhausted friends to get up, join in the fun, have his back! "Hey! I'm on the sidelines, Rei, you can't fire at me!" He called out to another lover of gym class.

Along with himself, Rei, Ozuma, a kid named Dunga, and Garland; don't let the name fool you, as the muscular teen is everything opposite of his flowery name, are the coach's pride. His Gym Class Heroes. Where other students bring down his evaluation at the end of each semester, these students keep him at a high B+.

"There is no sidelines, if you've got a ball you're in the ga-.." Getting struck by a dodge ball on the back of his head, Rei spun around to see who'd sent him out. But with a mosquito style swirl of students milling, it was hard to tell from where it came.

"Kon! Out!" called the coach, clapping for the students performance thus far.

"Aww," he hurled the blue rubber ball under his arm onto the floor with enough force to have it bounce to the rafters overhead. "Looks like you're up." He patted a guy with long blue hair on the back. A strong capable guy, with envious muscles.

"Hey, Garland, ready to join your 'spotting' buddy on the bench?"

"You wish, Tyson. It's more plausible that I'll give you more time to associate with the sidelines crew."

"Way to go, Tyson!" Called a shrimpy kid with brown hair, huge glasses, and a necktie despite his age.

"Yeah, you're amazing!"

Tyson scratched the back of his head with a humble chuckle. "The crowd doesn't lie." He said to the competition. "Whoa!" Hurling his upper body back, he narrowly avoids getting slammed with a ball. "That'll cost ya." Locked and loaded with two balls the game resumed for the laid back gym-star.

It was a good game, many out, many called back in. By the end of 45 minutes the Skins won the day. Tyson, unfortunately, was a shirt.

However, he was not let down because a good game was a good game. No losers there.

And as the flood of students left the school, later that day. He decided to celebrate his near victory. Because even in a loss, he's won in some way. Tyson just has that sort of a personality. Unflappable. Solid. Anytime he's down, he gets right back up, better than before.

"Pizza?" He suggested to his friends.

"Why is it always pizza?" Groaned Kai.

"It's quick. Delicious. And covered in meat." He replied as if the answer was so obvious even an eavesdropper would have replied in the same. "Don't they have pizza in Russia? Maybe like Russian beronies or something?"

"It's pronounced pierogi."

He had an embarrassed expression on his face when saying, "Sorry."

"And they aren't Russian, it's more Polish and Italian."

"...No fooling?" He seemed to be storing that information away, perhaps for nothing or for someone else who might wonder about such things. "Either way, we can get a topping you like." Placing his hands in prayer, he says. "Okay?"

"I'll hold you to that."

"And for making me eat greens, you can buy the donuts afterwards."

Fist in the air, Max cheered. "Yeah! Donuts!"

"I don't remember agreeing,"

Ozuma nudged Kai with his elbow. "There's no sense in fighting it. You know he'll get his way."

That was an understatement, according to the stoic teen's grunt in reply.

...

"So what are you guys doing over the weekend?" Asked Granger before a stuffed bite of crust was stuffed into his mouth.

"My mom's coming by," Kai tried not to sound happy, like it was any old thing. But, anyone could tell he's schooling back joy.

"Cool." He looked to Ozuma.

"I don't know. Play it by ear."

"You can come to my house," suggested the asker.

"We'll see."

"I can come." Max stated. "My dad doesn't care where I go, as long as I come home by the time street lights turn on."

As if he'd just then noticed the other food stuff on the table, he comments. "Too bad its not the rabbit on the pizza, instead of its food."

Kai rolled his eyes.

"I'm glad my topping eats meat."

Ozuma laughed, along with some eavesdropper that caused Kai to turn his head to see whom it was, then returned his attention to his food.

"Pigs don't eat meat," Ozuma corrected. "I mean, they could. But most like on a vegetarian diet. If your pizza was topped with pig food, it'd be vegetables, fruits, maybe some meat."

"I'll take the 'maybe'." He pulled a salty cube of bacon free then tossed it into the air. "Mmm."

"What are you doing? Is our coming over important?" Ozuma questioned.

"Naah. I just like company." He waved it off. Tyson Granger doesn't do lonely. Satiated, he stood up. "Who's up for dessert?" He raised his hand.

...

Tyson went with his grandfather to the Yaotome Dojo after he arrived back at home, nearly late having forgotten about the Kendo tournament. He couldn't help it. Donut holes are like potato chips. If you eat one, you're gonna reach the bottom of the bag. The bag of delicious sweet after having fatty salty pork. After spending an additional five minutes yammering about how sick it would be if a pizza was topped with mini donuts, he suddenly heard the town bell going off.

Stealing a glance at Ozuma's watch, he swore then hurried home. Max followed, since he was invited along and out of Tyson's 3 friends was the only one to accept. He cheered and shouted. He threw a streamer around like a rainbow colored yo-yo, much to the chagrin of the man who's angered expression was deepening wrinkles on his face.

Granger pointed to the right, making sure Ryu Granger saw him before he darted off. 3 minutes later, he exited the stall in the bathroom, feeling completely relieved. Walking over to the sink, he smiled at the reflection of the person beside him.

"Never do three battles on a full stomach, right?" He says casually.

"I wouldn't know. I'm just an audience member."

"Oh yeah? Well, be sure to cheer for me." Shaking out his hands, he moved to the napkin dispenser to remove the rest of the water. Usually he'd use his shirt or the side of his jeans, but he doesn't want to handle the wooden sword with damp hands, stained or not. He cares for the weapon, no differently than he cares for his pet dog. Love and respect. "I'm the one with the killer slice."

Never mind the lengthy ponytail sticking out from the back of his helmet.

"I will."

"Hmm? Oh, right." He gave a thumbs up before walking out.

0 0 0

"Winner! Tyson Granger!" He repeated on the way into the front gate of his home. He raised the trophy over his head and swung it in a circle. "Grampa, break out the bubbly."

"It's six o'clock. You know your mother said you can't have soda late in the evening."

"Tch. What she knows of it." He confided in Max, who decided to stay over.

Grinning brightly, Max hopped up onto Tyson's back. "Onward, to the swamp of no return!"

"Hey, my room is clean." He anchored his hands to Max's buttocks. "Grampa does it for me when I'm at school."

"Oh I forget, stars have made service. Then lead the way to the Super 8."

Tyson threatens to tip backwards, snickering when getting the quick response of the blond dropping his feet to the grass.

"Be sure to put away your sword before you start rough housing." Ryu called after his grandson. "Dinner is in ten minutes." The front door is slid shut then locked.

Emerging from hiding within an oversized hedge, the voyeur brushing and pulled leaves from his person. With a smile on his face, he heads for home. 'Another successful day of watching you, Tyson. My idol. My world.. And you can see why I love him so much. Oh, but, don't like him, too. Alright?'



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