Title: Extreme Exposure
Summary: Garland complains to Bryan that Hiro is being a jerk, so Bryan plays a prank on him. Now Hiro is stuck in just his boxer shorts, all alone and it's raining. Then, someone unexpected comes to his rescue.
Pairings: Spencer/Hiro, Bryan/Garland
Mentioned: Miguel/Kai, Tala/Mystel
Warnings: Fluff. Uke Hiro. A steamy make-out scene. Two-Shot.
Disclaimer: Don't own Beyblade. But give me time, I might find a way yet. Heh heh heh…

My second attempt at Uke Hiro. Who wouldn't want to see him walking around in his boxer shorts? Actually, I think there are a lot of people we wouldn't mind seeing walking around in their underwear, would we?

Don't you just love being a fangirl? X3 Anyway, I hope you enjoy this little two-shot!

Rubbing his bicep with a deep frown on his face, Garland winces at the tenderness of the muscle. "Stupid Hiro," he mutters to himself as he makes his way back to his room.

Hiro has been acting like a complete jackass the last couple of days, making his teammates, team BEGA train almost relentlessly. Garland doesn't know what crawled up his ass and died, but it's really starting to get to everyone. Brooklyn is becoming lethargic, Crusher is complaining that he can't spend time with his sister, MingMing is upset because her excessive Beyblade training is starting to affect her singing and Mystel isn't as lively and bubbly as he usually is.

And for Garland, his muscles are really starting to ache and pain. Even with his toned and honed body from his martial arts training. He's starting to feel like he's 70 years-old instead of just 17.

Opening the door to his room, Garland is looking forward to collapsing on his bed and sleeping for a couple of hours. But as soon as the door falls shut behind him a pair of arms seems to appear out of nowhere and wrap around his waist.

"Good God!" Garland gives a startle cry as he feels his back pressing up against something warm and familiar, his heart thumping loudly in his chest.

"Nope," A deep voice whispers in his ear, almost sniggering. "It's just me."

Garland immediately relaxes and he gives a sigh of relief with a tinge of annoyance. "Bryan," he whispers, falling somewhat limp in his arms. "How did you get in here?"

It's a relatively stupid question. Bryan has made it a habit of breaking into places, his favorite is of course Garland's bedroom and just about any property that Kai owns. He breaks into the dojo some times, only to be chased out by Gramps with a kendo stick.

It's actually quite comical to watch.

He has been dating Bryan for about four months now and the silver hair Russian still manages to surprise him every single day. He still manages to sneak up behind him and practically pounce on him. It doesn't matter where, when or why. He does whatever he feels like.

"Never mind that," Bryan suddenly says, a frown appearing on his lips as he steps back and turns Garland around in his arms so he can have a better look at him. He lets his emerald green eyes wander up and down Garland's body and raises an eyebrow in concern. "You look like shit."

"Thanks," Garland replies as he rolls his eyes skyward at Bryan's tactless way with words. "That was the look I was going for. It's nice to know that I managed to pull it off."

Bryan arches an eyebrow again at the blatant sarcasm in his boyfriend's voice, feeling unsure whether to be amused of concerned. Garland only ever becomes sarcastic when he's balancing on the edge of exhaustion. "What's wrong?"

"I'm sorry," Garland sighs as he leans into Bryan's arms and rests his cheek on his shoulder, leaning heavily against him to keep himself upright. "It's just Hiro is being a bit of an ass lately and I don't know why."

To Bryan, Hiro is always an ass. But that's because they don't exactly get along. Hiro thinks of Bryan as a no-good street punk while Bryan thinks of Hiro as a jerk-off with a yard stick up his ass. He's so dull and predictable that Bryan bets that Hiro irons his underwear before bed.

Suddenly sweeping Garland into his arms, Bryan moves him over to his bed and sits down, placing Garland in his lap. He wraps an arm around his shoulders, cradling the weary teen against his chest as his other hand runs comforting circles up and down his thigh. In the first month of their relationship Bryan learnt that Garland is quite sensitive there and likes it when Bryan softly strokes his thighs.

"What's he doing?" Bryan asks as Garland sleepily snuggles himself into his embrace.

"Just training us until we drop," Garland tells him, his voice barely above a whisper as he nuzzles his head under Bryan's chin, his hands clutching onto his jacket. "He's just been a general prick, that's all."

"That's nothing new," Bryan mutters under his breath, his eyebrow twitching ever so slightly. He draws in a deep breath, trying his best not to become too angry as he will disturb his peaceful boyfriend that he has safely tucked away in his arms. He glances down and notices that Garland has fallen asleep, deep lines of exhaustion marring his once flawless complexion.

Bryan sighs once again as he shifts in his position, leaning his back against the bed head as he moves Garland so he is now lying between his legs, his head resting against his chest. Bryan wraps an arm around Garland's waist as his other tenderly runs fingers through the silky silver strands of his hair.

Garland shifts a little, but does not wake. He curls his hands tighter around Bryan's chest, nuzzling his cheek cutely against his chest for a few moments before settling down.

"He's exhausted," Bryan muses out loud to himself before his eyebrow gives a sudden twitch of annoyance. "And it's not my fault this time."

Bryan plans a little piece of revenge. It's little and probably a tad childish, but who really cares? He's going to humiliate Hiro and in a way that he's certain Hiro won't work out who is responsible.

This should be entertaining to watch.

--

Hiro stares at the apparently bare bench in the locker room. He could have sworn he left his clothes there. No, he's certain he did. He got undress to have a shower, but then he phone rang. Dressed in only his boxer shorts, he answered it. He only turned his back on his clothes for a moment.

So…where the hell are they?

No way…did someone steal then to play a prank on him? How is that possible?! They were just there a second ago!

Whoever did this is no amateur. He has to be a really sneaky bastard to steal his belongings right from under his nose like this. When he's standing a mere foot or two away, no less. Argh, this is embarrassing!

What should he do now? He could use his phone, but who can he call that won't make a mockery out of him? There is no one he can trust with this piece of embarrassing information. He has no choice. He has to try and make his way undetected back to his place. Or at least find some sort of clothing to cover himself.

Opening the change room door just a crack, Hiro glances up and down the hallway, straining his ears for any kind of noise. Thankfully, it's completely silent. Not a noise, not even a pin drop. He slips out through the door and makes his way silently down the hall, heading towards the fire exit. No one uses the emergency exit unless it's important. And this is a highly critical situation.

"Well, this is something you don't see every day," a deep and heavy accented voice says with amusement.

Hiro spins around and finds himself face to face with a wall of hard muscles and broad shoulders. He tilts his head back to look skywards and into the face of a certain blonde Russian who's about six foot tall in height, shoulders four feet in width and arms like tree trucks. Large tree trunks.

Of all the people he could have ran into, it had to be him.

He finds Spencer from the Blitzkrieg Boys infuriating and a tad intimidating, not that he would confess that to anyone. At 19 years-old he is two years younger than Hiro, but is nearly a foot taller and countless muscles stronger. He has a straight poker face that Hiro can only wish he had and eyes that can pick up the smallest detail from yards away. The blonde can pick up every twitch, grimace and every wince of his expression without so much as blinking.

It's infuriating how Hiro can't seem to hide anything from the blonde.

Although, Spencer has never seen him this exposed before.

Hiro subconsciously wraps his arms around his bare chest, feeling his cheeks heat up against his will when he notices that Spencer is running his piercing eyes up and down his just about naked body. He still has his boxer shorts on, but they don't offer that much protection.

A shiver races through his body, unsure whether it's due to him feeling a tad exposed and cold, or it's because of the way Spencer seems to be eyeing him off. He could have sworn he saw a bit of hunger in his gaze.

"Trying for another tactic to get media attention?" Spencer asks, an eyebrow arching towards his hairline, amusement still lingering in his voice.

"I'm not seeking media attention," Hiro quickly replies stiffly, his eyes narrowing dangerously. "I'd personally preferred to stay out of the spotlight, thank you very much."

A deep rumble escapes from Spencer's throat and it takes Hiro a minute to realize that the blonde is laughing at him. His blush darkens a shade or two and he abruptly turns around in an irritable manner, presenting his bronze and smooth back to the Russian. His light blue hair hangs loosely down his back, resting just above the waist band of his thin boxer shorts, somehow amplifying to perkiness of his round bottom.

"Oh, this view is much better," Spencer continues to laugh, louder still when Hiro spins back around to glare heatedly at him, his expression a cross between feeling indignant and blatant humiliation.

Hiro flails for a moment, trying to think of a decent reply, but falters when Spencer's gaze suddenly turns soft and he shrugs off his jacket, handing the large article of clothing to him. "Huh?" Hiro mutters intelligently.

Spencer rolls his eyes and grabs his jacket with both hands, throwing over Hiro's body and wrapping it around his shoulders. "You'll catch a cold," he says simply.

Hiro blinks cutely in confusion a couple of times at the sudden warmth that invades his body before looking down and noticing the way the jacket rests on his thighs, successfully cover his upper body, leaving only legs exposed for the world to see. "Thank you," he mutters, keeping his gaze else where.

"I take it someone's playing a prank on you?" Spencer asks, although with the tone in his voice, he sounds like he knows just the person who would do something like this.

"Who would want to steal my clothes like that?" Hiro murmurs as he holds the oversize jacket closer around his almost naked body. He hates this. He hates feeling exposed, out in the open like this.

"It could be anyone," Spencer says with a shrug of his large shoulder. "You have pissed off a lot of people lately."

Hiro presses his lips together in a thin line, drawing in a deep breath through his nose. He lets the gears turn in his head, hoping to come up with a way to deny or disprove that little statement, but…he can't. He's been in a bad mood the last couple of months and he may have annoyed a few powerful people.

"I've had a bad couple of weeks," Hiro says in a lame attempt to explain himself, but the blonde doesn't seem to think that's a very good excuse.

Hiro huffs and looks away. He doesn't have to explain himself to Spencer. And he shouldn't. If only Spencer would stop looking at him like that.

Those eyes make him feel extremely exposed.

-Tries to glomp Spencer, but can only grasp onto his arm- Smug Spencer is love.

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