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25 July 2010 @ 10:03 am
video killed the radio star  
A Beyblade oneshot. Because I probably never would have gotten round to writing one otherwise. Now I can get back to those Durarara prompts!

Fandom: Beyblade
Characters: Tyson, Kai, Max, Kenny, Max's dad
Genres: General, Romance (if you squint)
Warnings: None.

"Did you pick up the movie?"


"Did you remember to buy snacks this time?"


"Have you moved the couch back a few feet like I said?"

A deep, prolonged intake of breath occured at that point, and the sound of seat-leather shifting like a creaking door could be heard as Kai fell into a slight slump where he sat.


The breath seemed to gush out all in one go, and the unbothered figure who had wedged himself in the corner of the modestly sized sofa kept his gaze ahead of him.


..."You haven't, have you?"

Predictabley, getting a response was like waiting for a monsoon in a desert.

'Kai! You know sitting this close to the screen isn't good for you!'

Tyson pursed his lips as he too turned to stare at the impressive, flat screen television infront of them both. In the large, empty but nonetheless ornate 'drawing room' (as Kai had told him it technically had to be called), the pitch black plasma screen looked incredibley out of place. White dust sheets were folded immaculately in the corner, and Tyson had to wonder why the hell they were even there to begin with. Apart from the modern sofa, and the fancy televison...there was nothing else in there. Not even any of those creepy portraits Voltaire had kept commisioning of himself when he'd gone through his midlife crisis.

'They're so I can smother you, should the situation become appropriate.'' Kai had intoned, without cracking a smile. Which basically meant that he didn't know either.

A surround sound speaker system that had been abducted from Kenny's closet (of all places) had been hooked up, and the sound-dispensing cubes were huddled either side of the screen, like gang members to a mafia boss. Really, it was like having their own cinema or something. The heavy pair of curtains pinned back in the room had been dragged closed, although cold streaks of light still sliced though the darkness where the fabric had failed to meet in the middle.

It had been a strange and, somewhat awkward tradition to uphold at first. Them being here, that is. Him being here, in Kai's house. With a wicked and unexpected price reduction at the youngest Granger's local entertainment vender, some of the best and most badass (well, in Tyson's opinion anyway) movies were now more accessible to his ever dwindling supply of money than ever before. With a great degree of excitement, him and Max had gleefully emptied the shelves (it was a pretty quaint store) and subsequently shocked the cashier into taking sick-leave.

The duo had ended up with a mountain of cellophane-wrapped DVD cases, scattered randomly along the polished dojo floor. Gory ones, exciting ones, suspenseful ones, funny ones, 'hot' ones (although Tyson hadn't quite understood the American's meaning when he'd said that), and even one or two....romantic ones.

"Oh! Hilary might like these, dude! She was telling me about this one,' - a swipe across the shelf to retrieve said case - 'just the other day. You know, during practice and stuff.'

The skid of Tyson's ankle could be painfully heard as he threw his body round to plant his friend with an incredulous stare. 'Hilary? Max, we're not really going to invite her over too, are we?'

A slight clash of blond eyebrows was his sole answer.

'Ugh...fine, fine. Whatever.'

'Awesome sauce.''

With the violent protests of his resident hobo Daichi, Tyson had extracted the tiny television from their shared room and moved it into the dojo.


Just like in the Bega incident, when he'd had a significant number of guests eagerly awaiting beybattle coverage, he faced a slight problem. As things stood, Martial Arts did not require a plug socket. He'd had to roll in a gaudy orange extension lead into the dojo to provide the dinky box with a supply of electricity, and even then, the plug hung out precariously half way. Even though at the time when he'd previously needed it most, the dodgy connection had served him well. Now it seemed to be selective; it would get so far into the movie, and then abruptedly black out.

'Stupid thing...common, work god damn you, work...!'

Unfortunately, this was destined to be the moment that Daichi came running in, his feet scrambling for purchase over the slippery wooden floor.

'Wha-? Daichi, NO!''

Tyson bitterly regretted not possessing any kind of foresight right then. Because really, why wasn't his life
awesome like that?

The significantly shorter blader had been on the prowl throughout the Granger estate in search of something else to do (his Saturday morning cartoons were calling him longingly, though), and after having given up in frustration, he decided to bombard Tyson for the only source of his entertainment back.

Luck was on neither World Champion Beyblader's side, however.

With a shriek that could rival the possessed, Daichi had overshot his destination infront of Max and Tyson, and had instead gliden straight past them.....through the course of the battered extension lead. A resounding crack still echoed through the hat wearing boy to this day. Even Max's dad couldn't fix the snapped prong on the ancient plug -  and he sold plugs, and that, to Tyson, meant he knew everything there was to know about plugs.

As things stood now, it was currently being repaired by Kenny. This had also been the time when the taller teen had discovered the speaker system, piled away beneath pairs of folded up shorts and pocket protecters. The computer genius had, of course, taken this as his cue to explain exactly how they were manufactured, what they were compatible with, and how much of a bargain they had been on eBay.

'You know, I had originally bought them for Kai to use with his television, since they're made by the same company. He wasn't interested, though. He doesn't watch so much T.V.''

'Wait...Kai has a T.V?'

'Mmhm. A plasma screen one

And that was the reason why Tyson was so valiantly sitting here, in this huge, almost deserted mansion, preparing both himself and Kai for an epic fictional journey that would only last a few hours.

Kai, quite predicatabley, had been less than enthralled by the concept.

Max himself had not made it with them today. He had been confined to his room by his father, wearing a neckbrace, which Tyson thought was a bit of an overkill. The reason for his sorry state, was that he'd pulled a musle in his neck whilst peering up at Kai's T.V for two and a half hours at the distance of about three centimeters from the screen.

The cover of said film had, what surely must have been, the sappiest photo Tyson had ever seen. On top of the couple trapped in an intensely adoring and passionate stare, sat a floral, almost calligraphic font that labelled the movie daintily. For some reason, movie critics had praised it as a hit; a 'cinematic masterpiece, and a must see for anyone in love'. Several sets of five stars stood out in bold, with names of high-profile newspapers accompanying each one.

One star had been positioned in such a way that it looked like it had been lodged up the male lead's nose somehow.

A snort rumbled in the back of Tyson's throat as he sized up the offending case in his palm.

"This movie looks like a piece of cr- hey!"

Without any prior inclination or warning, Kai had moved from his statue like state in the corner of the sofa, and plucked the DVD from Tyson's grasp. The younger teenager gawked over at him.

As if he had to grab the air infront of him for support, Kai's arms extended out from himself as he hunched and rose out of his lazy posture. With visible effort, he refrained from stretching himself out once he was standing at his full height. Tyson stared. Had it been anybody else, he would have pried for an explanation as to what the heck they were doing, confusing him like that, like this. However, since it was Kai, he knew he could only watch, or otherwise risk an embarrassing injury. The dual-haired teen was crafty like that - it wasn't so much painful, as it was inconvenient.

Max could possibly have been an example of this.

With a baleful, unimpressed gaze, the long-haired boy watched as Kai cracked open the case and carefully popped out the disc.

"Kai," Tyson ventured, unsure of exactly what to say next to the now crouching teen. "You, uh....you do know what type of movie that thing is ...right?"

Quite predictabley, he once again received no response. As he had done what felt like a thousand times before when it came to his team mate, the long haired teen rolled his eyes, twisting his mouth to one side of his face.

Or he was going to, until it finally dawned on him what Kai what was actually intending on doing. He was perched on his knees infront of the gigantic entertainment system, the dreaded disc held along its rim by Kai's splayed fingertips, hovering above his palm. It looked like he was holding the key to the end of the world or something like that.

...Tyson was in desperate need of a sci-fi movie.

The dual haired teen continued his ministrations, pressing a button on the DVD player that was built into the immense television itself. A square tray whirred out of the seemless black machine, extending like a square tongue, and then it stopped with a slight shudder. Kai plopped the disc carelessly onto the waiting device, and in what seemed to be a display of impatience, pushed the tray back in forcefully. Like he couldn't wait for it to shut by itself.

That was for nerds, apparently.

They weren't actually going to watch that sappy, emotional crap, were they? That was for girls, surely. The sudden terror of the situation pressed against Tyson's chest like the embrace from a frozen bag of sad teddy bears. Yet, he'd also broken a sweat too, for some reason. Watching this kind of thing with Kai, of all people....

...it was truely unthinkable. Actually, now that he did think about it, how had that particular film ended up with them at his house anyway? Hadn't it been back in the dojo, on the floor?

His internal conflict at his current, soon to be awkward predicament was hacked short as Kai fell back heavily into his place next to Tyson. The shorter teen felt the plush padding underneath the leather fabric dip in accordance to Kai's weight, and he shifted slightly as a tiny space was made underneath his leg. It was a reminder of how close they were going to be sitting throughout this sure to be fail cinematic experience. Normally, he would have gone to great lengths to have placed himself as close to the dual-haired teen as was socially acceptable, if only to annoy him.

Now though....well, now he just felt like moving to sit across the other side of the vast drawing room they were in. It was dark though, so he'd probably trip and fall over those folded dust sheets (even though they were pressed up against a corner that was no where near the door), and end up having to wear a neckbrace like Maxie.

Oh life. What a rascal.

As the opening menu faded in after a stern copyright infringement warning, Kai's arm rose like it took too much effort to move again. He jammed down the play button on the remote, and then dropped the plastic prompter back down onto the custioned seat, a look of supreme apathy on his face. Subsequently, the first few scenes of the movie began - the standard lull of a piano and soft transitions between each frame one would expect from this type of thing.

Tyson bit back a groan. He was used to seeing someone die a grizzly, blood filled death within the first few minutes of an epic opening battle. He was not interested in seeing a daisy wave around in the wind behind a small child.

"Kaiii," he suddenly whined, like a cat whose tail had been trapped in a door. "This is dumb. Can't we watch something else instead?" He peered over at his companion's face, desperate for the ever unlikely response.

The flickering lights dappled over Kai's features as the said teen stared ahead implacably. Just as Tyson's face was about to twist into a grimace at his ignorance, Kai's arm languidley swung over the side of the coach. A rustle and the tell tale crinkle of plastic packaging could be heard as he shoved a large bag of marshmellows into Tyson's stomach. Not once did he look away from the screen.

"Just shut up and watch."

And that was the end of that, apparently.

For the next grueling hour, Tyson's attention was raped by a menagerie of sensitive moments and heartfelt confessions. How much longer was this going to go on? Judging by how uninteresting things actually were, the climax of the movie was still a way off, as only now had all the key characters been fully introduced. Beside him, Kai nursed a drink with the speed of a mouse lapping from its sippy bottle. He'd barely consumed enough for the level of liquid to dip below the label on the bottle.

His eyes glazing over, Tyson drummed his splayed fingers across his frowning mouth. After a particularly dramatic scene that had dissolved into an exchange of dialogue that made the younger teen feel like he was drowning in a vat of cheese, the background music flared up once more. It was a slow, almost sultry sound that accompanied a doe eyed stare down. What happened next made Tyson sit up abrubtedly in shock.

"Oh jesus..."

Without any further warning, the young, ridiculously attractive couple were pulled towards each other in need. Their mouths met headtedly and repeatedly, as if attracted by the force of a powerful magnet. Huffs and puffs of passionate, shuddering breaths seemed to take over the expensive speak system, and the sound of wet skin sliding against wet skin as they brought tongue into the situation actually stung Tyson's ears. He fisted a hand through his own messy fringe in muted horror.

As the scene went onto to become increasingly more and more graphic, the long-haired teen suddenly wished he'd taken note of the movie's rating. The obvious lump at the front of the male lead's pants and the suggestive hand which cupped it certainly didn't look like PG-13 material.

Was this what Max had meant by a 'hot' movie? Moreover, was this the actual steamy film that he had been refering to at the store...? No wonder the cashier had been so shocked at their mass purchase.

"Oh my god, this has got to stop! Why isn't Kai doing anything?!" The ditatched thought buzzed through Tyson's mind like a queen bee of realisation.

He stiffly turned his neck to glance at Kai from the corner of his wide eyes.

For some...incredibley weird reason, Kai just sat there and watched with that same impassive look on his face. They were about to watch porn, and he was going to let it happen. Tyson realised with a cold, fresh wave of alarm that their friendship probably wouldn't survive this.

So many questions tumbled through his head at this exceedingly awkward, unwanted moment. Why was he himself still sitting here, letting this movie play? Why hadn't he launched himself forward to turn it off and leave? Why hadn't Kai done anything to stop it either? Why was he still here, on this couch, watching romantic foreplay with one of his best friends?

"Don't worry," Kai's bored voice cut into his thoughts like a hot knife through butter. "They won't show the forthright scene - it would be in bad taste."

Once again, a frenzied question burned on the tip of Tyson's numb tongue.

"How do you know that?" His logic begged him to say, eyes wide and mouth agape. However, true enough, the intimate caresses faded into a black transition, and the music transformed into the cheerful churping of early morning birds.

...The morning after.

Kai took a mouthful of his drink and swallowed it satisfactorily.

On screen, the offending film continued on, unaware of Tyson's plight. Hair, clothes and sheets were strewn strategically over the couple's obviously naked bodies, and the two lovers woke up at around the same time, breathing in deeply as they saw each other. Tyson watched in bemusement as they exchanged secret, knowing smiles. Maybe it was just him....but he himself certainly never looked like he'd just stepped out of a makeup studio first thing in the morning. However, the gorgeous and softly lit people before them looked just as glamorous as they had in the opening scenes. With the mood set, the two closed in for a slow, good morning kiss.

Apparently they'd also brushed their teeth whilst asleep, too.

The man ran his fingers gently through his girlfriend's soft, somehow unknotted locks, gazing deep into her eyes with a gentle sigh.

At that moment, Tyson decided that if that was what morning afters really looked like, then he'd fail with a big fat F minus.

Just as he was about to further lament the fact that the light was hitting them in such a way that they seemed to glow like lightbulbs, a whispered proposal creeped into his ears.

"Marry me."

He whipped his head around to stare at the source of the noise, which hadn't actually come from the elaborate speaker set.

"Um....what?" Came his intelligent, tentative venture.

"Marry me," Kai repeated simply.

"Uh-uhhh". Tyson, who had been sat relatively close to his dual haired companion up until that point, began to progressively lean back towards the soft arm of the chair. He stared at Kai as if he'd just shape-shifted into the woman currently in the middle of a serious, pre-breakfast lip-lock.

"Wha-what are you-...?" The younger of the two seemed to flounder for words, eyes peeled wide and unblinking.

"That's what he's going to say next."

Abruptedly, Tyson's temper snapped and he exploded. "You know you're not exactly making this any easier! I-"

Just as he was about to continue, the modelesque man wrapped in his girlfriend's embrace on screen echoed Kai's words.

"Marry me, Susan."

And suddenly, Tyson felt like hitting himself.