Fire - So I rewrote the first chapter... Who can blame me? It was cruddy... Just amke suer you read it again...
Warnings:
MPreg, OOCness, yaoi and swearing... I'll let you know of anything else as the story progresses… IF it progresses… No demanding either, it throws me off my writing and makes me feel bad…
Disclaimer: Don't own beyblade and never will… I only own Yahlia at the moment, but there will be others of my own imagination...
Chapter 1
"Are you sure you want to leave?" His hands were shaking as they grabbed the other teen's suitcase.
He answered in a sad, frustrated voice, "Tal, I've already told you: yes!"
"But I'm sure he'll be fine with it! Spencer's not shallow and he knows what Boris was - is like." The red head watched. His mind was frantic, his eyes sad and teary. There was no point in trying to change the other's mind; he was stubbornly sticking to his decision. He'd been trying to persuade him to stay since the teen had told him, and that was a few days ago. Their eyes met with uncertainty. He sighed, sniffling slighty, standing up straight as he handed him the suit case, "Take care of yourself, will you? It'll make me feel less cruddy."
The teen smiled sadly, "You know I will."
"Bryan… I really don't think that this is necessary."
The teen smiled slightly, turning back to the red head after he threw the bag onto the back seat of the taxi. He drew his captain into a hug, "Make sure Spencer doesn't come looking for me." He paused, "I don't want to regret my decision." He pulled back hesitantly, "Good bye captain."
"Good bye Bryan." The teen nodded, moving around the cab and sitting in the back on the opposite side to the driver.
Tala watched as the taxi disappeared around the corner, his eyes brimming with silent tears. He quickly wiped them away as he wandered back into the house, gazing up at the clock. Three AM. Spencer would be up in three hours, less if he noticed Bryan was gone. Which he would... Tala thought idly.
His saddened gaze returned to the floor as he made his way to his room, ignoring the creaking stairs and shutting the door quietly after himself.
"Did he go?"
The red head sighed, nodding slightly, "Yep." He made himself comfortable next to his lover, kissing the bluenette's cheek lightly. He felt the other teen roll over and wrap his arms around his torso, a small kiss pressing itself to his lips.
"He'll come back. Spencer will find him."
"I hope so Kai… I really do…"
o0o0o
Twelve years starting tomorrow… Spencer thought sadly, the papers in front of him blurring from the tears in his eyes. He never let them fall, but they always gathered.
Bryan had left twelve years ago, and he was still in a state of wonder and grief. He missed the (now) man something chronic and no matter how many times Tala had hinted he should move on, no matter how many times Kai had to shake him out of his daydreams, he couldn't. Every time he did something he was reminded of Bryan, his habits, his looks, his comments, everything.
Like now... He thought sadly. He remembered explaining how to work out Pythagoras' theorem and how to remember it to him.
Bryan would be sitting in his lap, nodding and asking questions, the explaining being interupted with small kisses, them then morphing into long, sensual - He caught himself, focusing on marking the quizzes in front of him. He didn't need to be morbid at work.
He studied the numbers, quickly ticking and placing crosses where they were needed. He yawned, god maths was boring.
"Sir, are you alright?" A student asked.
"Yeah, you seem out of it today." Another agreed.
"Have you got a girlfriend?" One asked slyly, sending the class into quiet whispers and snickers, and made him blink in surprise.
He shook his head slowly, a kind smile showing on his face at the sight of amused teenagers conversing on his love-life, all of them involving some sort of girl and some form of argument and/or violence on his 'girlfriend's' part. "I'm fine. Just a bit tired." He'd managed, after he'd hushed them.
"Oh! Can we bludge then?"
"Yeah! Please sir!"
"None of us like Maths! We bet you don't even like teaching it!"
The classroom erupted into loud pleas and deals, papers being shuffled around, being tucked back into the teenagers' bags. Spencer could feel his amusement growing; they never missed a chance to do nothing. He smiled, watching as the kids quietened down, waiting for his answer.
He had to agree that he never had been fond of maths, no matter how good he was at it, or how every theory and rule made him think about how to make it easier to remember. It made him think.
The brunette shook his head, making them groan as he folded his arms, his chin resting on one of his hands, "Only for this lesson, you're finals are four weeks away. We'll work continuously after this lesson alright?" Cheers erupted from the class. A student even threw up his hat, making the teenagers laugh/giggle/snicker when it hit another student, making a small rubber throwing competition grow between the two of them. He shifted in his chair, calling the class into silence, "Take your work out and look like you're doing something; we'll all be in trouble if someone catches us."
The class snickered and did as they were asked, letting Spencer get back to marking as they started chatting. He smirked as he marked another paper: that was one person with a perfect mark.
Perfect… He mused, his eyes saddening, Like Bryan…
He cursed himself mentally. For gods sake! After twelve years anyone would have expected him to be over the man. His head fell to the desk for a second, immediantly regretting it when he felt a peice of paper hit his head. He glared grumpily at the giggling teens in front of him, immediately drawing a gasp from two boys as he opened the crumpled peice.
His eyebrow rose in surprise when he read the writing. "Mr. Lukas and Mr. Everest, I'll see you both after class." He shook the note slightly, "We'll need to discuss this." The teen's eyes grew big and panicy, one of the boys looked as if he were going to cry. Spencer pocketed the note, looking up and over at the door when he heard a knock. "Yes?"
"There's a new student." The boy answered. Spencer stood, trying to hush his class on the way out as their noise sky-rocketed again. He sighed and shook his head, running a hand through his usual dishevelled hair. He could feel a migraine coming on.
He stepped out of the classroom, coming face to face with a girl. His eyes widened; she looked a bit like Bryan. She had lilac hair, it had a black streak on her bangs, which fell down in front of her ears. She had a roundish face, with big sea blue eyes. She came up to the middle of his chest. He knew he was staring, watching as her lips moved.
She looked up at him with big eyes as she spoke with a mellow voice, "Can I come in sir?" He didn't reply, too wrapped in her appearance to pay attention to her words. She blinked in confusion. "Eh... Sir?" She waved her unoccupied hand in front of his face, making sure to hold her shoulder bag steady as she did so.
"What?" The blonde snapped out of his reverie, his eyes narrowing as he concentrated on what she was saying. "Sorry, I'm tired today." He reasoned, smiling slightly.
She nodded, glancing down in embarassment, "I'm Yahlia Kuznetsov."
… Kuznetsov… Spencer stared, moving slightly so she could walk into the room, "I'm Mr Turanov, though you've probably been told that." She nodded.
She looked like him, she acted like him, she even sounded a bit like him, she had the same surname as him. Spencer's mind was tinkering, jolting into a state of total confusion as possibilities ran amuck in his head, going over facts and situations and do's and don'ts, though only one thing made the most sense in the hazy mess.
Bryan had a daughter.
But how could that be? He was gay!
…Wasn't he?
The 30 year old was sure he was staring again, maybe glaring, he was frowning. He was also sure that his class was making one of the loudest rackets he'd ever had the pleasure of hearing, but he ignored them. Bryan had a daughter.
"Are you alright sir? You're been staring at me."
Spencer nodded, his old abbey habits kicking in, his face set in a stern frown, "Yes," He hastily continued to watch her fish around her bag for a pen, "Don't worry we're having a bludge lesson. We're not doing any work."
The girl's eyebrow rose again, "Aren't you supposed to learn stuff at school?"
"Yes, but there is such a thing as becoming bored and tired. A rest lesson cures it." He paused, "Most of the time anyway..." The girl was now staring at him, blue eyes directed straight at him.
"You…" He waited for her to continue, "Never mind." She stared down at her books, quickly taking out a scrap book and scribbling a few words. Spencer tried to read them, but after several failed attempts, gave up.
He hesitated to speak, "Your father…"
The bell rang, it was a shrill siren sound. Yahlia stood, stuffing her note book in her bag. "It was nice meeting you sir." She practically ran out of the classroom, leaving Spencer with his mouth open, his question half out.
"Sir?"
"Hm?" The brunette looked up, noticing the boys still sitting in their seats. "I'll talk to you both later, but I would like it if you both didn't chuck notes around my classroom." They nodded feverantly, standing up silently to leave. Spencer sighed, "My head hurts."
o0o0o
"Daddy! I'm home!" The sound of stomping, scuffling and the slam of the front door followed the shout. "Daddy?"
"Kitchen!" She carefully tredded over and around the various sized boxes she encounted, cursing silently as she stubbed her toe on one. "How was school?" He asked, amused by her dancing following the incident.
She pouted, "Fine... I only got to go to Geography and Maths though."
"Only?"
She dropped her bag by her seat, sitting down heavily as she let out an annoyed huff, "I like learning Dad."
He nodded, "I know. Funny though, I never liked school."
She sighed, but nodded, "My geography teacher's ok, a bit boring with his voice, but I will survive. But..." She paused, "My maths teacher seems to be fantastic. I just have this good feeling about him you know?"
He frowned, noticing her beaming face and how fondly she said 'him', "Really, what's his name?"
"Mr. S. Turanov."
He froze, the tea he'd made them both sloshing around the mugs, dripping down his hands. He swore loudly and hurriedly placed the drinks on the table, finding his daughter ready with a cloth when he'd looked up. "Turanov?" He repeated, making sure he'd heard right.
She nodded, "He's got the most unproffesional hair I've ever seen. It sticks up!" She exclaimed. But her father was gone, his thoughts with the clouds. Inwardly cursing and swearing in the two languages he knew. "Daddy?"
He smiled reassuringly, "I'm fine, go have your shower, we'll go out for dinner tonight. Alright?"
She ran off with a shout of approval.
o0o0o
The clock's constant ticking wasn't the only thing keeping him awake, even in his own room the clock's racket thudded in his ears. The overall darkness of his new house made him want to, but... His thoughts kept him up.
He glanced up at the clock, the light barely shining off the metal numbers and frame. Boxes were littered around the room, the long table, two chairs and the garbage bin the only things he'd set up properly.
He took a long sip of his warm coffee, sighing gently as he leant back in his seat, savouring the bitter taste, knowing the next morning he'd have no such luck.
He'd let his daughter pick their house this time, finding himself stuck between saying 'no' and breaking his promise and coming and spoiling his life and very likely his old friends'.
A buzzing, mixed with rythmatic beeps erupted into the silence of that night. He stared idly at his cell phone, watching as it moved across the table, the vibrations making an annoying sound against the wood, the earworm of a ringtone making him want to smash the peice of technology into itty-bitty peices.
Did he really want to pick it up? He knew who it was...
He sighed as it stopped, rubbing his temples as the phone dimmed. His eyes snapped open a second later as it rang again though.
He growled ferally as he swiped it up, "Hello?" He greeted, rudely.
"What do you think you're doing!" He jumped slightly, not expecting to be yelled at straight away. "Spencer's still pining over you! And you come back! You haven't explained anything to him have you? He needs to know why! If he finds out you're back before you confront him..." The man quietened.
"Tala?"
"What?"
He cringed at his ex-captain's biting tone, hardening his voice, "You tell him."
"NO!" He looked like he wanted to argue, but knew better than to reason at the moment. He needed to meet him in person. Tala seemed to have noticed his thinking, "Bryan, no... He's hurt enough, you tell him. It would mean much more... He still loves you."
o0o0o
Spencer rubbed his eyes, gently laying his glasses down on the desk. It was far too late to be sitting up marking assignments he knew, but the thoughts that kept running around his mind, crashing into his skull before running around again made it impossible for him to sleep. Not that the three cups of coffee he'd drank two hours earlier helped.
But it seemed the hot beverage had eased his headache, eventually leaving him for an hour to get a total of eight assignments done. But it had come back with avengance as soon as that girl popped back into his head.
Yahlia.
Yahlia Kuznetsov.
She looked like Bryan, even spoke a bit like him, leaving out letters in a few words, having trouble pronouncing the longest ones. Just like Bryan.
But that was preposterous! Bryan, couldn't have cheated on him; he had been with him close to every hour of everyday. It just wasn't... plausable.
He was gay...
As in he didn't like girls...
"Damn it Bryan." He growled, setting his forehead in his hands, his elbows resting on the desk. "You're not here and you're still giving me a headache. Still have it don't you?"
He chuckled to himself bitterly, throughing his pen down, setting the assignments in a neat pile. He'd have to get up early and mark them, he needed a bed now. He ran his hand through his hair, quickly shedding himself of his shirt, slapping the light off on his way to the bed.
He sighed, settling himself down, enjoying the releif it brought to his back and neck, and head to a lesser extent. "I need to bring Nadja with me, everytime I need a bed." He mumbled absently. His eyes slipping shut sleepily.
But sleep didn't seem to want to grace him with her presence.
Fire: Yeah... I'm still thinking, so... Tell me what you think, give me ideas, critique, everything and anything that could be useful in creating this...
The title had me stuck, but for some strange reason 'Parental Guidance' was stuck in my head... If you want to suggest a better one, don't be afraid to do so...
Yes, I rewrote this chapter... Like I said it was an idea, so I didn't spend too long on it before and it was slightly too short...
Reveiw please...
Thank you for reading...