Disclaimer: This really is a stupid question. I don’t own
Beyblade.
Using the
original names:
Tala = Yuri
Spencer =
Sergey
***
Unasked
***
The pale teenager hissed, as the knife slipped
off the meat he was trying to cut and left a bleeding mark on his finger. It
was ridiculous. For at least a month he had
problems with concentrating… and the reason was probably completely oblivious.
“Trying to cut off your fingers?” an amused
voice rung over his ear as the person causing all the mess leaned over his arm,
his chest pressed to the others back. The young Russian wished he wouldn’t have
done that. After all, he knew it wasn’t that
kind of teasing.
“Hey? Earth to Boris.” Yuri’s voice was still
amused. “If I were you I’d concentrate on that more.”
“Thank you master of obvious. Any other words
of wisdom, you might want to share with me?” the lavender-haired teen answered
sarcastically. The other pushed back and sat down on the table.
“Yeah. Wash your teeth before you go to bed.”
“That’s the moment when I get awed by your
wittiness?”
“No, that’s the moment when you start
laughing.”
“Laughing? What is this laughing you speak
of?”
The redhead started sniggering and Boris
wished it all would have a different context… But that was impossible. It
wasn’t his being pessimistic. It really was hopeless. Yuri was heterosexual
and, thanks to one stupid joke of Sergey’s, he nearly started screaming
whenever somebody mentioned anal sex to him. The joke was past for a long while
– at least eight years, but it seemed the Russian captain had developed a
phobia, in spite of efforts from the others to prevent that. It was all funny,
as long as it didn’t concern him.
“I actually started wondering, if you could laugh.”
Yuri said after a moment of silence.
“Try bothering with something important,
instead.”
“Like what? If curing mice with a cold can
help to save people in the
“Will you stop that?”
“Stop what?” Yuri gave his teammate a rather
surprised look. Boris tended to be grumpy, but it has been long since he acted
like that. “What’s wrong with you?”
“Nothing.”
But it didn’t sound as if nothing was wrong.
“Sure. That’s why you’re trying to cut your
fingers off?”
“Oh, shut up, will you! It’s your fault
anyway!” the redhead blinked in surprise, while the lavender-haired teen
covered his mouth with one hand. He never intended to say that.
“My fault?” the blue-eyed Russian sounded
disbelieving. “I came in after you
cut your finger!”
The other lowered his head… Should he tell?
But what good with it bring? His captain was not interested in guys – he would
probably be disgusted, when he learned… Why was he bothering with such things
anyway? Better tell and let Yuri deal with the problem. It was selfish, but it
was partially why he ended up feeling like that – the redhead did spend so much
time trying to sort Boris’ problems out and it just happened.
“It’s not what I meant.” the lavender-haired youth
sighed and turned around. Strangely, he didn’t find the strength to look at his
captain. “I… I think… that…” he felt like stopping here. He didn’t want to know
how the redhead would react. “…that… you’re something more than a friend for
me…”
Yuri didn’t answer. He only gaped – and it was
what the other teen saw when he finally lifted his head.
“Stop that, will you!”
The redhead blinked and shook his head.
“You don’t expect me to…” he started, but his
teammate never let him finish.
“I know!” he barked. The redhead seemed
genuinely worried, but by what? It couldn’t be that Boris was angry at him –
that never bothered him or at least it never showed, so was it because?..
“Forget it.” the lavender-haired teenager growled and turned around.
“What did you expect me to do?” he heard Yuri
hiss. “Change my taste? Sorry, can’t do that.”
“I said forget it.”
“Right. Sure. My brain works like a computer
and I can delete whatever I want!” the sarcasm in Yuri’s voice could have
killed if it were possible. It was too late when Boris realized he said
something he shouldn’t have. His captain had never liked being reminded that he
was “made”.
“That’s not what I meant…” he said.
“I guess, I know what you meant.” the
red-haired ‘blader still sounded angry. “I should ignore what you said and
pretend it never happened. And guess what? That’s what I’ll probably do, but
before I will tell you one thing – do try changing the object.”
“Easy for you to say.”
“It will be healthier for your fingers. I’m
used to people drooling over me; they won’t survive a too energetic meeting
with a knife.”
The lavender-haired Russian looked over his
shoulder at his captain, who still comfortably occupying the table and had one
of those unreadable expressions which made him so very attractive.
“It’s not that easy.”
“It is.”
the redhead answered firmly and left. He wasn’t very helpful… But maybe Boris
had to deal with that on his own? And now he knew at least that the redhead
didn’t mind it – that much.
***