Adult-FanFiction.org : Gundam, Beyblade, DBZ, FMA

Imagine Me With You	By : Resting-Madness Category: Beyblade > AU - Alternate Universe Views: 216 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own the series Beyblade nor the characters. I didn't create anything in their world. I also make no profit from this story. We clear? Cool.

Chapter List
- 1
- 2
- 3
If the light of dawn could be seen as a person, it would be the voyeur type. Dawn likes a good prowler move every morning. And for those who don't know the defensive maneuver of drawn curtains, she gets to peek through the cracks in the homes to see it all. The Mistubishi's cat poking its head up from the covers where it just scratched its male master on the thigh for kicking it; the teenaged girl hurrying her boyfriend from her house after he'd snuck in over night to spend the night without her parents noticing. The moon would gossip that nothing happened, just a spooning with all hands visible. Dawn watched the foreign woman, Ms. Pena eat a cold slice of pizza in her kitchen; and she spied the garbage men doing their weekly chore. But the vision that wouldn't interest someone spied Tyson and Max that early morning.
Tyson rolled over onto his side and right into Max's slumbering form. He hummed, drowsily; wrapping his arms around what he assumed was a pillow until scooting closer and feeling flesh. With a smile on his face, the room owner pressed his lips into the soft bedmate kissing him tenderly. Max, half asleep as well, returned the kiss, well enough that they kissed once again. Longer, deeper. The blond rolled over onto his bed mate's lap, dipping his weight down. A grinding ensued between them.
But a pleased hum from Tyson broke the spell of sleep and he woke up too check himself.
"Oh, bleh!" Granger laughed.
Max chuckled, wiping the back of his hand across his mouth. "Can you please wake up before you start acting out your erotic dreams?"
"I could say the same to you, pal. I'm the one who was pinned to the bed. And still am." Raising his hands up over his head as though he were about to pounce like a cat, he instead swiped his pillow from beneath his head, and began to pummel the cheerful, at any hour, blond. "Ow!" He snickered when the fire was returned by Max's pillow slamming into him.
After the onslaught of a pillow fight, Tyson settled himself back in.
"What are you doing?" Max wondered once he got up from the low bed. "Aren't you gonna shower? It's 6:40."
"Yeah. Six forty. Not seven."
"But, this hour will give you time to shower and eat breakfast at a normal speed," He walked to the end of the bed. "Instead of racing a pop-tart down your throat, that's breaking up because you heated it." Grabbing his friend by the ankles he yanked him free from the hiding place under the thin blanket.
"Hey! Who's house is this anyway?"
"Your's. But, since I'm the one who's going to school with you, I won't let you be late." He pulled Tyson from the bed, the resemblance of a caught fish was uncanny, as the room owner flopped about in the swath of blanket that came along with him. "Now come on. I'll make you my special pancaaaaakes.." He tried sweetening the deal.
"Pancakes?"
"American style. Just like my mom taught me."
"Well... if you're gonna use force. I guess it wouldn't hurt to get up early today."
"That's the spirit!" He gave Tyson a thumbs up. "You shower while I cook, you eat while I shower. It's win win."
"From the way you were all over me, you'd probably like to shower together." He stuck out his tongue, dodging a flying pillow.
Max smiled and shook his head. He has got the world's biggest dork as his best friend.
...
"Are you kidding?" Tyson turned back in his seat to face forward. "It's gotta rain right now?" He griped. "Grampa, take Max and me to school."
"Tell you what, T-dawg, learn to drive, and take yourself." The old man drizzled honey over his bowl of oatmeal with a generous sprinkling of crumpled bacon bits.
"Why can't you do it? You know I can't afford a car."
Ryu Granger looked his grandson in the eye. "Stop being so random with your expenditures, and you could have had a car twice by now."
"But I like instant gratification."
Max snorted over how true that was, since they nearly mauled each other upstairs not too long ago.
Tyson cast his friend a belittling glare. "You're no help, where's your car?"
"You know I can't afford it either. My dad needs all the help he can get with bills." He gets up from the table; dropping off his plate in the dishwasher.
"What about your mom?" Following his friend's actions, he does the same.
"I kinda don't like asking her for money; she already wants me to live with her." Leaning against the counter, his posture sagged. "She'll probably think dad can't provide for me."
"Looks like we're running to school then."
"And by the grace of God, our speed will keep us dry."
"Worth a shot." He grinned cheekily.
Grandpa Granger rolled his eyes. "Ever hear of an umbrella?"
"Ever hear about a forgetful grandson, who left it in his locker when he used it the last time, but got to walk home in the sunshine that afternoon?" He stuck out his tongue.
"You've gotta love him." Max said watching his bratty best friend exit into the hall.
"You've gotta love him. I can decide to go senile, send him home to his mom and dad in Kyoto."
Smiling, Max exited the kitchen saying good bye to the playful old man.
And with bags on their backs, and light jackets over their heads, the pair bolt out into the growing day off to school.
In another part of town. The morning is a lot less lovely.
A very large man, with bright orange hair; thick at any part of his head that it covers, the top and goatee on his chin, an angry scowl permanently etched into a stern face that could have been handsome, before he turned it into the visual perfection of a bad mood. This large man lowered the newspaper in his hands, folding it just enough to square it off. His disappointment set on the child across the table. Despite being 16, he could only see his son at the age of six. He had no time to watch him grow. No care to see the man he's becoming. He has no use for a bothersome teenager. Children, if unavoidable to have around, were easier to manage. Tell them to sit. They sit. Ask them why, what, when? You get an answer. Teens are defiant little smart-mouthed, brats with little better to do than find ways to piss-off their parents and the rest of society, because they quell their need to explore.
Zeo, his son, was no different.
"Where were you last night?" He demanded, not even trying to make it sound like a casual question, a simple curiosity disguising underlying concern for his son's safety or well-being.
"I was at home, asleep in my room." Came a tight reply, as it was obvious where he should have been. And what would his father know? He hardly ever notices him! With a groan firmly upon his lips; he scooted the English muffin from his eggs Benedict about the run over from the yolk on the plate.
"Don't you know not to lie to me. Reginald checked on you last night, you weren't there."
"I went for a walk in the garden until eleven. I was back inside, slept well enough to get up for school, and so I am." Getting up from the table, he walked away.
He needs to hurry anyway, doesn't wanna miss Tyson going into school. Grabbing his sneakers at the entrance, he slipped his feet into them. The butler grabbed his bookbag, walking out behind him after holding open the door for his young master. Popping open an umbrella he held it over Zeo's head, following after him to the expensive town car, waiting at the front gate.
"Barnaby, see that the young master does not get wet once let out at the building." He didn't need to say it, but he's always been especially attentive to Zeo, never able to have kids or even a family of his own. The young boy was perfect. All that was needed to him.
He wasn't the only one who has someone who checks all the boxes. Zeo Zagart was still floating within the clouds, grey as they are, with enough happiness within him to rival the glow of the sun. He checked his watch. If the past two weeks of watching his admired were any indication, he should just about be getting his breakfast. He smiled. So attuned to Tyson's scheduled and unscheduled movements, he could be seen as the written words.
'Son of...' He lurched forward when seeing his appointed sprinting through the showering rain with Max. 'What's he doing outside? He's supposed to be having breakfast.' It would seem that even the most hardened scripts can come across an erase moment from time to time. 'Probably that Mac's fault. Wait! What am I saying? This is perfect!' To the driver he says. "That's a friend of mine; will you stop and give them a ride?"
"Yes, sir."
The car pulled up to the awning where Tyson and Max skittered to a stop to catch their breaths. The window rolled down and Zeo poked his head out a bit. His throat dried from nerves pricking up. He schooled it down, then spoke in a shout over the weather. "Tyson! Want a ride?!"
Granger, having heard his name, looked around in a moment of confusion, before spotting a car parked several feet beside him. He cocked his head, thinking he'd heard wrong.
"Over here!" Zeo called out again. "Tyson!" He waved. "Come on, there's plenty room!" He popped the door open. 'Come on. Come on... What are they saying?' He wondered when his beloved and friend chat to each other briefly. Quiet. Just below hearing abilities over the pounding of the elements.
"You sure?!"
"Yeah! Come on!" He backed away from the window. He swallowed over a lump forming in his throat when Tyson and, unfortunately Max, raced over and hopped into the vehicle. "Hi." He greeted with a big grin.
"Oh boy.. thanks, dude," Tyson flung his arms out to ring them dry.
"Yeah. Thanks a lot." Max chimed in smoothing his hands through damp blond locks.
"You're a lifesaver."
'Just my luck, I'm gonna have a heart attack from this. Some great gesture. Rescue a guy, and rather than look like a suave hero... I drop dead in front of him.' He closed his eyes in a mantra. 'Calm down, Zeo. Calm down.'
"Man this is fancy," Tyson made himself comfortable; Max between them in the middle of the large comfortable, brown bench-seat. Heated too. And it's currently warming the pairs' soggy rears. "It's almost as nice as a limousine."
"I have a limo."
"And you're not taking it?"
Zeo hid a smile over how Tyson's voice could lower and crack, that for seventeen he's still going through puberty. But, he should talk. His whole experience with speaking has been an array of highs and lows. Clearing his throat, he dropped an octave. "I'm just going to school."
"You're nuts. I'd take a limo to a public restroom. Try and stop me from showing off." He laughed; cocking a brow of embarrassed confusion when his light laughter was joined by Zeo just a little too readily, and joyously. He didn't think it was that funny.
'What are you doing? Don't freak him out.' Leaning forward, he opened a small compartment that sits inside the back of the front seat. "Would you like some orange juice?" He offered a little bottle to Tyson, barely swinging the suggestion to Max, despite his dividing them.
"Sure. Thanks." Tyson took the drink, taking a gulp or two before handing it to Max, who drank from it as well.
Zeo almost embarrassed himself by reaching for it once Tyson took another swig, he veered his hand forward and instead grabbed his own.
"This was really nice of you," commented the blond. "What's your name? I'm Max, and he's Tyson." He nods towards his friend. "But, you probably already knew that. Everybody knows Tyson."
Zeo froze. 'What the hell is that supposed to mean?' He wondered just how much of Tyson everybody knows? Because if Max is implying that Tyson Granger is some lose, playboy... He'll toss the blond nuisance right to the curb, in a large muddy puddle. His Tyson is the epitome of a saint, just waiting to unleash his inner beast once they're together.
"At least," Max was finishing his sentence, pulling Zeo from his thoughts. "if you follow school sports, or Kendo- especially Kendo."
Tyson snapped his fingers. "Oh, yeah! That's where I remember you from!" He points at Zeo. "You're the kid in the bathroom from at the tournament yesterday."
Zagart looked frazzled as he snickered in a friendly manner. 'You knew me even before then, Tyson.' He thinks. But, he supposed it was some time ago, and he had moved then returned when he was fifteen. But, he's been in a few of Tyson's classes since having some back. Does he mean to say he doesn't remember him at all? 'How is that possible?' He remembers the first time they'd met perfectly. A memory so closely guarded that's he's not even sure his father, or best friend Kenny knows about it. That day, when it had all began...
"Here you are, sirs. Enjoy your day." Said the driver. Getting out of the car, he held open an umbrella for Zeo, while the unshielded pair bolt to safety inside the building. Completely ditching the moment as though it happened in a dream which they'd just awoke from.
"I'll see you.. around." He was saying before he realized that Tyson was well out of earshot. Oh well. Maybe it'll continue to rain, and he can give him a ride home. Alone. With his Tyson.
...
Tyson scratched the back of his head. It's gotten to that point that even hearing someone read out loud bores the snot out of him. Why did someone have to invent books?! If not for books, there would be no school. And without school tying into most of his existence, he could have more time for Kendo and baseball, soccer, he's always wanted to try basketball. And the wildly popular motorized BMX biking. Wouldn't that be cool! But, no. He's here, in reading class. Getting a hole drilled into the back of his head, by his brain trying to flee elsewhere. It feels a little like something else is trying to help it.
He looked over his shoulder. For just a second it looked as though a guy lowered his eyes from looking at him. Naah. He must be imagining things. Besides, it would be kind of wrong to assume that when the teacher has the assignment written up on the whiteboard. He's probably just late to write it to avoid reading along with the drone of a fellow student who's about to come to the end of the chapter. Thank God. But still...
The bell rang like a savior to a one preschooler who had a rough first day. Time to go. Unfortunately it was just to change classes to another gruelling lesson, not freedom for home. Damn.
Removing the class book No Longer Jerry by Tiffany Plumb from the desktop, he walked out of class with it as though it was a slab of stone, weighing on his interest as a burden. Some people were actually enjoying it! Tyson was baffled. He hasn't found any interest there. Why can't the book be about sports? Who wants to read about a runaway? That's just giving youth culture bad ideas.
Walking down the hall, he stopped at his locker.
'31 left, 15 right, 21 left.' Thinks Zeo watching Tyson as he walks up behind him. He dropped his books to the floor once he was close enough to get his attention. "Shoot. Sorry." He apologized when stooping down to pick up the items.
Tyson watched, then stooped down to help. The guy looked so pitiful, what else could he do? Handing the papers to him, he pulled his hand away when he felt the stranger's reach overshoot the paper to land on top of his hand.
'I knew he was a great guy! Who else would help me out? Anyone else would think I was a loser, walk away, or even laugh. But not Tyson.' The hand that had rested briefly over Tyson's loosely held onto the papers. He doesn't want the touch to be tainted without first getting to sample it's scent.
"I know you," Tyson said.
"Huh? You mean you remember?"
"Sure. The kid from the bathroom, at the tournament."
"I'm sixteen. And, I gave you a ride this morning. Don't you remember?"
"Sure. Who could forget such a sweet car?" He grinned handsomely. Standing, he shoved the locker door closed, done with getting his books. "Sorry, I can't remember your name."
"I never got to tell you, Max kinda talked over me."
"He does that. He likes to talk." Replied the equally expressive through words.
"I'm Zeo Zagart." He held out his hand.
"Um.." Tyson looked at the hand. Who their age shakes hands? But, he recalled that the car was swanky, so most likely it's the younger teen's upbringing. "Nice to meet you, again."
"You too." He smiled shyly.
"Zagart? That's not Japanese," Looking him over, he nods. "You don't look Japanese either. Are you an exchange student?"
"No. I live here. My family moved for a while, but then we came back." He follows after his beloved who was suddenly on the move to his next class. "I'm actually French and German, German on my father's side."
"Oh."
'He's curious about me... What a day!' Hiding a grin by scratching his upper lip. He asked. "Is that bad?"
"What?"
"My not being Japanese?"
"Why would it be bad?" Tyson shook his head. "I think it's cool. I like it when people aren't afraid to be out of the norm'. I know a lot of guys who are mixed, whole, and whatnot."
"Really?"
"Yeah."
Now or never. Swallowing, he says. "Hey, Tyson, can we hang out after school?"
Tyson entered the classroom without a reply.
'Stupid hallway noise, he didn't hear me.' He expelled a sigh through his nostrils. 'I'll ask later.'
There was always the weather being on his side.
...
Unfortunately not. The sun hasn't come out from behind the thick grey sheet of clouds, but it was bright enough to give the illusion that it was burning brilliantly above them. Everything was wet and smelled damp. The city could use a good tumble in a dryer.
"Do you guy wanna come to my place to watch the motocross races?"
This is what Zeo heard when he left the building after Tyson and his entourage, Kai, a Russian mixed with Japanese, if Hiwatari is anything to go by, Ozuma Redshield a mix of Brazilian and Native American, and Max Tate an American Japanese. Tyson wasn't kidding when he said he knows a lot of guys with different backgrounds. Zeo knew he'd fit in with him. It's practically written in the stairs. Tyson and Zeo. A dynamic duo. A pair never apart. Lovers for life. And the others... well... They're big boys. They can figure out what to do with themselves without Tyson Granger in their lives.
"Hi guys!" Zeo called to them before catching up, standing at their side.
They group turned and looked at him as though he was a very large talking cicada.
"What's happening?"
Kai glared. "And you are?"
"This is bathroom tournament guy." Max replied with a chuckle. "Don't let the name fool you, he's a gentleman."
This time if was Zeo who was looking at a talking bug, and the bug was named Max.
"Max, don't be rude. His name's Zeo." Tyson slid an arm around the younger teen's shoulders.
'Please think my shiver was from the cold.' He prayed to the heavens. Tyson isn't just touching him, it's in a familiar way. He must be dreaming. There's no way this is really happening.
"Sorry. Hi, Zeo." He raised his hand as a wave. "He gave us a lift this morning," the blond went on explaining. "He's super nice."
"Ride? Shoot! That reminds me, I gotta get my umbrella from my locker."
"I'll get it!" Zeo volunteered.
Ozuma cocked a brow, stealing a glance at Kai, who looked back with the same expression. It wasn't missed by Zeo, but the moment was saved without back pedal as Tyson replied.
"Are you kidding? That'd be great, but, you don't know my combination." He turned and ran back to the building.
"Looks like we got out of that one." Ozuma said. He doesn't wanna spend the afternoon at Tyson's, he's got homework. They all do. Leave it to their friend to try and distract them all from responsibility. "Let's go." He waved them along towards the parking lot.
"I'll wait for Tyson." Zeo said.
The trio said nothing in response. They didn't even look back. It was as though he'd said nothing at all. Fine by him.
A familiar car horn honked in the distance ahead. He tried to ignore it, but the driver climbed out of the vehicle to retrieve his backpack.
"I'll walk home today." He insisted.
"Sorry. You have a music lesson today." Barnaby grabbed the bag. "I'm to take you right to it, sir."
Looking over his shoulder, he hoped Tyson would emerge, but he didn't come.
"Master, Zeo? We cannot be late."
"Alright. I'll go." He swore under his breath. What's the big deal about music lessons anyway?
Barnaby wondered the same thing but in reverse. Zeo loved music lessons. What could be so attractive about walking home?
Tyson Granger exited the building, watched by Zeo through the window.
- 1
- 2
- 3
You need to be logged in to leave a review for this story.
Report Story

Imagine Me With You