Disclaimer: I do not own Beyblade or any of the characters to follow.

Note: This story is not subject to update or continuation. It’s a side project that I wanted to try out and see if I liked it and may potentially continue it as I want. You may review if you like and this may be a load of shit, but we'll see.

Warnings: Anything bad you can imagine is in my story content. Also this is not re-read or beta'd...so...it's rough kinda.

That Was Just Your Life

There was a nauseating snapping sound and then a crack, but he only heard it because it came from inside his body, he couldn’t have otherwise because his ears rung with the sound of metal scraping…crashing and breaking hard concrete and tar.

The world was literally upside down by the time he felt his back his the windscreen…how had he ended up facing that way???

Another crack and it was metal this time and a solid jolt made him vibrate with a numbing pain right before it all stomp and a few screams could be heard, car doors…and creaking…burning…something sounded to be in motion but he couldn’t make it.

He twitched his thin fingers and he felt a warm between them and it hurt to move the smallest joints but he continued. He was completely certain he couldn’t feel his legs….or the rest of his body.

Something clanked and he made the sound of voices…asking if he wanted something…was he alright…did he need help? Was that the question…?

He opened his mouth and a low and stifled cry of pain nearly broke out through his gritted teeth and he clenched hard on them to breath. Blood was collecting between the straight rows of teeth and he could taste it when he tried to swallow. He was bleeding…that’s the warmth he felt on his hands…his entire body felt warm.

‘Open your eyes…’ he told himself dully as he moved his head…to find that he couldn’t, the back of his neck seemed to be pressed against something hard…he could smell fumes and it was making him want to puke with mixed taste of the blood. He heard himself cry, not for help but some incoherent whine of pain and he forced his eyes open…or he thought he did because he saw nothing.

Closing his pained fingers into a fist he felt the concrete beneath his bruised hands and he felt his lungs pain with every steadying breath.

Another person was calling to him…could he hear him? Was he alive…??

Was he alive?

There was a blur…and he swore he saw someone looking at him…what?

Plates and cuttlery clattered and there was mindless chatter of people sitting and having a quick easy lunch at McDonalds. There was a ruffling of shopping bags in one of the booths occupied by two people,

“I forgot to buy a new wine opener…can you believe it…I mea-“ turning to look at the person sitting next to him he noticed how his lover, another man if you cared to have it specified, was watching a young waiter go by in his standard black jeans, with barely a glance of acknowledgement in the direction of his voice.

Raising a hand he shoved the other roughly so he spun around with an irritated look on his face,

“What the hell?” he looks perplexed like he cannot figure out what had happened.

“Please stop ogling other people’s asses while you’re with me, it’s…”

“I’m not…” was the sure reply before again his attention was turned away.

Again but not previously once repeated...

Laughter travelled down a long hall and it was one of complete and utter bliss, drunken bliss. Muffled talking, heavy petting and another laugh.

“Am I too drunk, do you think…huh?” it was slurred and so happy a tone.

“More than a little…” the reply was from a steadier voice and following those words was the sounds of a jeans zipper.

“Are you fucking undressing me…!” another laugh and weak struggle to stop the hands pulling the jeans down from his waist, “…you know I can’t…when I’m drunk…”

A laugh followed that but from the person now removing underwear and his own shirt,

“Oh please…you can’t fuck properly when you sober…”

More laughter…before only breathing and a few groans…

“You’re…hurting me…ah!”

“You’ll like it…” the breathing increased.

“Just…you don’t have to be so…” but it faded when a low groan was emitted and then heavy breathing.

He felt dizzy and his drunken complaints were lost in his groans,

“Oh…god……ah…”

“Shut up…!”

“AH!”

I cried.

“Really…I couldn’t give a shit if you left.” He said.

I cried.

But I left.

Didn’t I?