Predictability Killed Stupid Me
Summary: A short one-shot inspired by predictability. Because Max is kind of predictable, no matter how much he wants to deny it. But hey, who said that was a bad thing? Max/Michael yaoi
Disclaimer: Unfortunately, I don't own The All Starz. I don't own anything. I'm not writing this for profit, but if you want to send me some cash, please don't hesitate!
Warnings: Nice!Emily, holy shit. Boy/boy love. If you don't like it, get the hell out.
A/N: Because I haven't updated in about a year. Sorry .
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Predictability Killed Stupid Me (But Thanks to it, I Fell in Love)
Max fumbled with the light switch in the hotel room. After reaching around like a blind man in the darkness, the small lamp finally flickered on. Sighing, he looked at the clock. 4:08. There was no reason whatsoever for him to be even slightly awake. He didn't have a battle tomorrow, but he need to get at least some rest. Looking over at the bed beside him, he realized Rick was still fast asleep, snoring softly. Max laughed quietly to himself and swung his legs out of his bed. It was another night of insomnia.
Silently, he tiptoed to the door, sticking his bare feet in the beat-up pair of Converse on either side of the foyer. How they got there, he had no clue.
Max opened the door slowly, wincing at the creaking noise it made when it swung open. Why were these hotels so old? You'd think being on a top notch sports team you could afford better hotels.
Being back in America was a little different than how Max remembered it when he was young. For one thing, he was staying with his mother in a hotel in New York City with his home country beyblade team. It wasn't uncomfortable and he wasn't complaining, but it was still a little odd.
He heard the elevator ding and stepped on. There was nobody else there, obviously because it was so early in the morning the sun wasn't even up yet. He pressed the penthouse button tentatively and watched the doors close.
On the way up, Max yawned and looked at himself in the mirror. He bit back the urge to laugh openly at his own attire. He was still in his sleepwear, blue striped, white pajamas with the pants a little short because of the growth he'd been doing in the past year. His sneakers were old and ripped at the seams, probably from all the extra practices he'd been putting in. His hair was a mess, just a vibrant, yellow mop on his head.
The doors slid open again and Max climbed the last flight of stairs to reach the roof. The roof had always been his happy place, he could watch the city or whatever scenery he happened to be staying at. It calmed him down and relaxed his nerves.
He stood there, the wind blowing in his hair, and sneezed.
"Bless you."
Max spun around so fast he could've sworn he got whiplash. There, standing tall and lanky in a pair of basketball shorts and a pajama top was Eddy, grinning and handing Max a sweater.
"Thank you," the younger boy said gratefully, pulling the sweater over his slender frame, "How did you…?"
"Ah Max," Eddy laughed, "You've been doing this all your life. Getting some air. It's very predictable."
Max bristled, "I'm not predictable," he snapped. "I just. Like routine."
"And there's nothing wrong with that," The basketball player shrugged and walked over to him, "Can't sleep?"
The blonde shook his head, "It's been like this for the past few weeks now, on and off."
"Are you in love?"
Max looked at Eddy in shock and spluttered incoherently, "What-I. What? I don't-what? Do you-why did you-what?"
Eddy shrugged and played with the sleeve of his top, "Insomnia's caused by weary minds and heavy hearts. You know, stress, exams, maybe, new jobs and possibly-relationship problems?"
Max stared. "I don't have relationship problems."
"Okay," The taller boy shrugged, "Just sayin'."
There was a slight pause before he spoke again, "Max, there's nothing wrong with you if you do." His voice was quiet, but kind, "It's high time you started paying attention to the physical attractiveness of others around you-"
"I'm not inexperienced!"
"Sure you aren't," Eddy continued calmly, "But I know you, Max. We all do. Sometimes even more so than you think because you're so. Damn. Predictable."
Flushing, the blonde looked out into the city, the lights blinking in his gaze, "I don't know how to explain it."
"That's fine," Eddy shrugged, "Who can explain love?"
"I'm not in love."
"There's a lot of things you aren't," The taller boy said kindly, "Who really knows, right? It's even more difficult to admit to love when it's for…Ah…someone of the same sex?"
Max spun around, flushing hard, "I'm not gay!" He shouted. He put a hand over his mouth, surprised at his outburst, "I don't-"
"Is it Michael?"
He was trapped. How he got into this mess the first place was quite a debatable topic. Something about insomnia and stress and love. But he wasn't in love. And definitely not with Michael. The jock constantly got under his skin, he was arrogant, cocky and…Starting to mature. Not to mention incredibly good-looking. And he'd grown a lot of the past year, but-what the hell was he thinking? He was still Michael Parker, for Pete's sake. The only member on the team that could really touch Max's last nerve, worse than Rick, who usually gets pretty far.
"I don't-I never-it's not exactly, I don't think…" He sputtered, obviously confused.
"It's not like we haven't seen it," Eddy said conversationally, "I mean, you only drool after him about a million times a day."
"I don't drool after him!" Max defended.
"Well, something of the sort. You kind of always stare at him with this glazed look in your eyes-even Emily's noticed."
Oh God. Please, this isn't happening. He didn't come on the roof to have a heart to heart with his teammate-somebody he was hardly familiar with, for Pete's sake! He came to relax and possibly catch pneumonia. But the stress in his heart just grew heavier and heavier.
He sighed, "I just admire Michael for his incredibly cocky and intolerable personality, that's all."
"And that's your explanation for staring after him."
"Yes," Max snapped, pushing past Eddy, "And if you'd excuse me, I think I'm going to go to bed."
"Going to take a walk, huh?" Eddy called after him, "See you later at practice."
"I'm not that predictable!" Max shouted, swinging the door open and running down the stairs.
He ended up walking down Broadway. Damn Eddy.
--
When he returned back to his room the sun was almost up. Rick was sitting on the edge of his bed in pajamas, looking somber and expectant when Max came in.
"Uh…What?" He asked, expecting a lecture from the older blader.
"Max," Rick said calmly, "Where were you?"
"Out."
"For a walk, right?"
He blushed, "How did you know?"
Rick shrugged, "It's something I've gathered after knowing you a little bit. Why, couldn't sleep?"
"Just had some stuff on my mind, that's all."
"Michael?"
Max's head snapped up, cheeks tinted pink and his blue gaze defiant, "What?"
"Michael was on your mind?" Rick guessed, "Because let me tell you something, Max, thinking about somebody you care for can be quite a grueling task."
"I don't care about Michael," Max bit his lip, "I mean, I care about him. I just-"
"Don't care for him like you care for Emily and Eddy," Rick interrupted.
"Yes. Wait, no. I-"
"Think he's gorgeous," Rick filled in.
"NO! I mean, sure, he's rather handsome but-he's just a teammate, we're supposed to support each other."
"Sure," Rick nodded, "But you see, you don't look at Emily and Eddy or even me the same way. You look at Michael differently."
Max crossed his arms, "How do I look at Michael?"
"Like you want to make out with him."
Max was stunned, "I don't!" He shouted, "I don't!"
Rick snorted, "Calm down, Spazzy McGee. I'm just saying. This has been kind of an observation I've made."
"Are you all plotting against me?" Max asked desperately. It was a logical idea, ever since Michael, Emily and Eddy got over Max and Rick being The All Starz's representatives, they've grown closer as a whole team. Although Michael, Emily and Eddy were still close knit as ever, they've hesitantly accepted Max and Rick into their tightly kept circle.
"No."
Well that was an informative answer. Max stood up, "We should probably go. You know, practice and all."
"You go on," Rick yawned, "I think I'm going to sleep a little more."
"You just woke up!"
"So? You can never get enough sleep."
"You're delusional."
"Go out and play, Maxie boy," Rick yawned again, "I'll see you later." He lay down and closed his eyes. Realizing he wasn't going to get anymore answers out of the built teenager, Max 'went out to play'.
He walked out of the hotel and in the corner of the block, heard a familiar sound. Beyblades were gearing up and battling each other. He turned the corner and saw a familiar face, screwed in concentration as she battled.
"Go Trygator!" Emily yelled. Soon, he opponent's blade was out of the dish. She smirked, "Pity you lost. It would've been interesting to see you live up to your big words." She turned at the laugh Max made and narrowed her eyes, "Max! What are you doing here?"
"I'm just-dropping by," Max said lamely. Emily had the power to render him speechless with fear.
"Well get out of here!" She snapped. Then, her face softened, "Why are you really out here, Max?"
"I'm just walking around, Emily. It's still kind of early, why are you out?"
The girl bowed her head, "I can't battle in a proper stadium, this is all I can do."
Max felt sorry for her, "Emily, I-"
"Forget it," she snapped, returning to her previous demeanor, "Let's get the hell out of here."
The two walked back onto the main street. "So what is it, Max?" Emily asked, "Michael getting on your nerves?"
Max stopped in his tracks, "What are you talking about?"
"Well, you know. I've been noticing lately how you've been watching him. It's interesting."
"In what…way?" Max asked, not really wanting to know the answer.
"You know that look many females get when they see a dress that'll look absolutely perfect on them but they don't have enough money unless they actually work for it?"
"Uh…Kind of."
"Yeah," Emily nodded, "That's the look."
Max was stunned, "What?" he shouted, "That's the look?"
"Mmhm. You know what this means, don't you Max?" Emily asked, "You want Michael, you make sure you work for it!"
"No, no, no, no…" Max protested. Then, realizing he'd been defeated, said, "But aren't you and Michael…?"
"Me and Michael?" Emily laughed, "Me and Michael? Oh God, please. I'd rather shit bricks. That guy's so damn cocky it drives me crazy. Besides," she added, raising an eyebrow, "After watching you look at him, I'd never have a chance."
"What are you talking about?"
"Oh come on, Max," Emily said dismissively, "Are you really that dim? Please. Michael's noticed."
Max froze. 'Noticed' could only mean one thing. Michael Parker had somehow figured out that he wants to make out with him (not that Max did!!!) and is now prepared to beat the living daylights out of him. He started listing things to write down in his will. Give Draciel to his mom. No wait, she'll probably turn it into a cyber turtle or something. Give Draciel to Kenny.
On the other hand, Draciel is to be buried with Max.
"Noticed?" He asked weakly.
Emily nodded, "Noticed. It's kind of cute, actually. I think he actually enjoys the attention, the self centered jerk."
Max took a step back. Emily noticed, "Hey, don't worry about it too much!" She said quickly, "I said he enjoys it."
Max turned on his heel and walked off. What did Emily know?
--
Apparently, Emily knew a lot, because as soon as he barged into his hotel room, he found Michael Parker sitting on his bed. Funny how this guy has taken up so much out of his morning, yet this was the first time Max saw him today. He was yawning, messing up his new blonde hair lazily and rubbing his steel blue eyes. He looked like he'd just woken up, in an NYC t-shirt and track pants.
"Michael?" Max asked hesitantly, pressing himself against the door, "What are you…Doing here?"
"Max!" The baseball player greeted pleasantly, turning around to cock an eyebrow at him, "Why are you up against the wall?"
"Uh…" This was apparently the only word Max could render up. Brilliant.
"I'm here to pick some stuff up for Rick." Michael told him.
"What." It wasn't a question. This was going so well, just like that cyborg experiment the Russians tried on Tala.
Michael frowned, "Max, are you okay?"
"Peachy keen," he snapped back, his eyes flashing. He couldn't explain his own irritation, but then again, how could he calmly explain that the sight of Michael in track pants made him want to strangle and ox with his bare hands?
"Listen," Michael started hesitantly, "People have been telling me about you. Specifically your feelings towards me."
"Oh really?" Max replied, discourage settled in his heart. "And what did they say?"
"That you're too predictable, so you must love me."
Well. An honest and blunt answer, but he definitely got his point across.
"I don't love you!" Max yelled. Michael winced.
"I knew you'd react like that-"
"I'm not that predictable, damnit!" Max said angrily, "I'm not, I'm not, I'm not-"
"And now you're going to throw a fit," Michael predicted calmly.
"Damnit, why do you all think I'm so predictable?! I'm totally spontaneous, I don't even-
"
"And now you're going to prove your point," Michael guessed.
"I'm not predictable, I can-I'm not, I can totally be spontaneous-" and without thinking, Max reached over, grabbed Michael by the ears, and kissed him.
Michael seemed to be expecting this kiss, because immediately, he put a hand on Max's waist, dipped him down, and kissed him back with fervor.
Holy cow.
When Michael pulled away, Max was blinking, his baby blues wide and confused.
"Are you going to freak out on me now?" Michael asked cautiously.
Max nodded. But he leaned up and kissed Michael one more time.
"After I freak out," he whispered, "We can go have ice cream."
Being predictable wasn't always a bad thing.
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End
Hooray for Max/Michael love. :D Review?