- Info -
Title: Driving Blind
Fandom: Knight Rider (1982)
Pairing: Michael Knight / Lyan Sorel
Date: April 19, 2021
Words: 2,293
Rating: general audiences
Content: M/M, romantic, platonic, comfort, slight angst
← BACK
Driving Blind
Lyan held his arm out the passenger side window, the cool wind tousling his hair and catching in his slightly cupped hand. There was something strangely comforting about the backroads at night, and he and Michael had taken to going on drives while the rest of the world was asleep. The asphalt was rough, the surroundings were dark, and there was only the occasional flickering streetlamp to remind them they weren’t completely on their own… in some ways, it seemed as though things could become lonely and unforgiving in a heartbeat. But the trees that gently hugged the sides of the road and the shimmering stars overhead more than made up for it. As did the company.
Lyan had been quiet for quite some time, half spaced-out, only a few thoughts bouncing back and forth in his mind. Those thoughts, however, were weighing on him, and when he finally managed to find his words, they came out sounding a bit nervous.
“Michael…” Lyan pulled in his arm as he broke the silence, now leaning against the open window of the high-tech trans am. “Do you ever regret it?”
Without skipping a beat, the man in the driver’s seat responded. “I regret a lot of things. Most people do. You’re gonna have to be more specific if you want a real answer.” Michael raised his brows and gave a half-cocked smile, well aware of the several places this conversation could be headed.
“Staying with FLAG all this time, I guess. It’s been hard, hasn’t it?” As Lyan spoke, his voice seemed weary and distant, and he kept his gaze fixed out the window. The midnight world passed quickly by, the only motion in an otherwise still landscape.
“Lyan,” Michael leaned one of his arms across the gullwing steering wheel before saying, very matter of factly, “I didn’t have much of a choice in the beginning. You know that almost as well as I do at this point. Plus, the Foundation work was important to me. Still is.” He allowed his eyes to drift to the Knight Industries insignia on the wheel for a second, a spot of vibrant red against the stark black, then turned back to face the road ahead.
“That’s not what I asked and you know it.”
“You’re right.” There was a brief pause. “Of course work’s been hard. The stuff the team and I do is never easy. It never will be. But it’s a fundamental part of who I am.”
Lyan barely waited for him to finish his thought before interjecting again. “Michael, you can’t keep dodging the question! ‘Who you are’ didn’t even exist until a few years ago! Someone made them up for you!” Lyan winced, immediately wishing he could take back his little outburst. “I didn’t mean— I’m sorry. You don’t have to go into it. It’s not my business.” He ran his hands through his own hair, his words hitting him more with each passing second.
“No… you’re right. Maybe I should go into it. For both our sakes.” Michael took his eyes off the road again, this time looking at the large curved dash in front of him. Lights of various shapes and colors flickered and fluctuated, but he was specifically focused on a small dark LED screen just above the steering wheel. “KITT, take over for a bit, will ya pal?”
The screen lit up with three red bars that rose and fell as an automated voice responded. “Certainly, Michael,” the AI said in his vaguely-haughty Boston accent. “I’m far better behind the wheel than you are, anyway. Especially in the dark.”
Michael laughed lightly and rolled his eyes. “Yeah, yeah. I know. Appreciate it.” All of the car’s abilities came in handy at some point or another, but Michael had more or less learned to become dependent on the different auto cruise options. KITT was, after all, designed to drive himself, especially when it meant keeping his driver out of harm's way. Why not use that to his advantage?
As Michael turned in his seat to face the man beside him, he thought of the events that had led him there. It would be near impossible to put everything into a few simple words, but the thoughts flooded into his mind nonetheless. Lyan was right. Michael Knight didn’t exist until 1982, and in many ways, there were still parts of him missing. Michael had lived a completely different life before then, and it had been practically erased with a single event. He waited a few beats before he spoke again.
“Lyan,” he eventually started, “Michael Long is dead. He has been for a while. You and I both know that. It’s because of FLAG that Michael Knight gets to be alive. That I get to be alive. That I get to be here.” Michael reached over, resting a hand lightly on the side of Lyan’s seat. “I can’t really regret something like that.”
“But wouldn’t it be nice to—”
“Be nice to not have to worry about staying under the radar? To not look in a mirror and be met with the face of someone who tried to kill you — twice — for being his involuntary replacement? To not have felt indebted to a corporation and the man who decided you were going to bear its name, only to die on you a few days later? To not have been shot point blank by someone you thought was a friend? Of course it would.” He sighed and averted his gaze, his words more honest than hateful. “But after all that, it’s not something I’d go back on. The Foundation’s been able to help a lot of people with me there. And the people I get to work with, I mean… Devon’s like a father to me. Bonnie, RC, and KITT are the best friends a guy could ask for, practically like family.”
Michael paused again, gently brushing a few loose strands of Lyan’s hair to the side so he could look him in the eyes. Lyan’s glasses reflected the lights of the dashboard, but through them, Michael could see the other man’s expression soften. “And now I’ve got you, too,” Michael said. “That’s not something I’d ever want to change.”
Lyan leaned his head against his partner’s hand, now holding both of his own hands in his lap. He paused this way for what felt like an eternity, the sensation of human contact distracting him completely from the passage of time. However, only mere seconds had truly passed before he decided to continue the conversation.
“I guess I shouldn’t be concerning myself with it so much.” The faint glow of a dying streetlamp flooded briefly into the car as they continued on, and Lyan spoke softly as he got a clearer glimpse of the person before him, the edges of Michael’s curls catching the light. He was hit with a wave of emotion. “I just… I care about you is all. I can’t help it. Nobody should have to go through what you did.”
“Hey, it's alright.” Michael shifted himself over to the passenger's side even farther to gently pull Lyan into a hug. “I'm alright.”
The two leaned into each other, Lyan pressing himself against his partner's chest and clutching at the fabric of his shirt. Outside, the night air was crisp and cool, and a light wind still came in through the windows, but the warmth of their embrace more than made up for it. Neither wanted to be the first to pull away.
When the hug was finally broken, Lyan took a deep breath before speaking again. “I’m glad you can say you're doing alright, but I want you to know it’s ok to admit when you’re not.” He took Michael’s hand in his own, running his thumb over the man's knuckles. “You do know that, right?”
“Thanks, Lyan,” Michael said. And he meant it.
Lyan bit back a yawn, letting go of Michael and tucking his arms against his own chest, all but curling up in the seat. It had been a long night, and even just their previous conversation was enough to make him realise how tired he’d been getting.
“Do you… wanna get some rest?” Michael asked. Without waiting for a response, he reached to grab his own jacket from the backseat so he could drape it over Lyan’s shoulders as a sort of makeshift blanket. Once it had been retrieved, he glanced at the dash, picking out the digital clock in the mess of LEDs. Shortly after one in the morning. Later than either of them had realised.
Lyan took the jacket that was offered to him, instantly cuddling into the soft leather. “Only if you don’t mind. I’d hate to leave you without a good driving buddy.” He paused, awaiting the response he knew was coming.
As if on cue, the small display at the head of the dash flashed to life as a somewhat annoyed voice spoke up. “I haven’t gone anywhere, you know.”
“He was just trying to get a rise outta ya, KITT,” Michael laughed, leaning back into the driver’s seat and giving the top of the dash a pat. “Don't let it get to you.”
With a smile, Lyan said his last words of the night. His voice was quiet, but this time with contentedness as opposed to melancholy. “Goodnight, Michael Knight.”
And as the name of his partner rolled off his tongue, he allowed himself to drift off to sleep.
After switching back to normal cruise, Michael rolled the windows most of the way up, leaving the driver’s side down just enough to keep himself awake with the crispness of the California night air. His hair rustled lightly in the soft wind, and for a short while, he drove in silence, caught up in his own thoughts. Through the glass t-top panels he could see countless stars all shining in unison. They were the same stars he'd looked at all his life, and the same ones he would see every night for as long as that life continued. No matter what changed over the years, that was one thing he could count on.
Finally, he began feeling the effects of staying up so late catching up to him as well. “KITT, can you set us on the route home and take over again? I think I might get some shuteye myself.”
“Of course, Michael.” Once more the dash was given an extra splash of red as the bars of KITT’s voice display fluctuated with his speech. There was a pause, then the AI piped up again. “And, Michael?”
“What is it, pal?”
“It's nice to have people to care about. And people who care about you.”
A gentle grin spread across Michael’s face. “It really is, isn't it?” Before closing his eyes for the ride home, he again looked over at Lyan. Then he reached to carefully remove the man’s glasses, setting them against the meeting point of the dash and windshield to keep them from breaking in his sleep. “Goodnight, Lyan,” he said, despite the fact it would go unheard.
Michael rolled up the driver’s side window the rest of the way and leaned against it, the glass chilling his face, his breath leaving little spots of condensation. It wasn't the first time he'd slept in his car, and it sure wouldn't be the last. He'd even fallen asleep at the wheel the very first day he and KITT were working together, so a precedent had long since been set. But there was something different about it this time. Knowing that Lyan was there beside him... knowing that he cared for him… that made it just as comfortable as home.
Even as he started to fade, however, Michael was plagued by his past. The story of Michael Long should have ended where the story of Michael Knight began. But that wasn’t really true, was it? He still remembered the flash of the gun and the pain that followed. He still remembered his old partners, old friends, old jobs, old trauma… it was all still with him. But Michael Long wasn’t. Partially because the person he used to be was legally dead, but partially because he chose to leave him behind. Michael Knight was a persona that was thrust onto him by someone he barely got to know, but each new experience that came with it helped to make it feel more like himself. He was able to rebuild his life completely with a group that meant the world to him, following a path he was truly passionate about. But even that didn’t come without its fair share of negative experiences and moral dilemmas. Nothing ever seemed to.
Michael didn’t let himself think about those things often, but now that he had, it seemed to really be wearing on him. Perhaps two in the morning wasn't the best time for such things. He instead decided to let sleep take over, and just before completely drifting off, Michael reached over towards the passenger’s seat, gently gripping at Lyan’s hand. At least they had each other.
Without instruction, the heating system kicked on and the vehicle's windows darkened for the remainder of the drive, hiding the sleeping passengers from any onlookers. Such had become standard practice over the past few years, since Michael's seemingly negligent driving habits had gotten him into more than his fair share of trouble. Somewhere on the road ahead, a streetlamp flickered, moths dancing around its fading light. In the sky above, stars were being reborn, casting light that wouldn't reach the earth for many years. And as the world rushed by around them, the two slept peacefully, hand in hand, as they awaited their destination.
End notes: Reupload of an old fic, since I want to host stuff on neocities now instead of the way I was doing it before.
Links: tumblr