Fight or Flight

Chapters: [1] ✦ [-2-]

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Summary:

Michael ends up at Lyan’s house for the night and has to juggle his work and personal life.

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Lyan had his arms wrapped around Michael's shoulders, clinging tightly to his chest as Michael's hands supported his legs and lower back in an awkward sort of bridal carry. He was surprised how easily Michael seemed to be able to fly while holding another person. Such are the wonders of modern technology, he thought to himself. Even with the downsides to the new wings, at least the tech that had gone into them was impressive. Neither of them could deny that.

These wandering thoughts were disrupted, however, by a small beep that broke the silence of the night around them.

“Michael,” he commented, twisting slightly to look at what, to an outside observer, would have seemed like a regular wristwatch, “your comlink is going off.”

“Damn. Of course it is.” Michael said. “That means the team’s nearby. They must be heading to the Foundation to look for us.”

“Are you… gonna answer it?”

“Do I have to?”

“If you don’t, I will,” Lyan said, making a playful reach for the comlink. He trusted Michael’s grip on him enough to briefly forget the possibility of falling.

“Fine,” he sighed, only slightly annoyed. “Go ahead. Maybe I can get ‘em off my back for a bit. Would be easier than staying on the lam.”

At that, Lyan depressed the small mock-stud button on the side of the comlink’s digital display. Immediately, a familiar voice came through the other end.

“Oh, Michael, thank goodness!” KITT said, clearly pleased to have gotten a response from his partner. “We were all so worried about you. Are you alright? Where are you? I’m going to try to pick you up on my radar—”

“Whoah, buddy. Cool down, there.” Michael instantly regretted not having left the comlink behind when he took off. “Don’t go doin’ that just yet.”

Lyan couldn’t help but butt in. “KITT, he’s fine. He’s with me. You can let Bonnie and Devon know he’s safe, but nothing more than that, alright?”

“Lyan! Why’d you tell him that?!” Michael barked. A few stray sparks fell from his wings in agitation. Then, directing his words back to the comlink, he continued. “Just cover for me, will ya, pal?”

There was a pause as they waited for the computer’s response. Michael pictured him parked in the back of the semi. He’d probably already gotten their location pinpointed and was mere seconds from alerting the others to his whereabouts.

“You owe me for this, Michael. You know how I feel about lying on your behalf.”

Michael smiled smugly, gladly taking this as yet another get-out-of-jail-free card. It was hard to believe just how many he'd been able to rack up over the years. “Thanks, buddy. You’re the best.”

“I know,” KITT responded in his slightly-snobbish matter-of-fact tone. Just before Lyan went to press the button on Michael’s comlink, stopping the conversation, there came another comment. “And Lyan? Keep him out of trouble.”

With that, the voice went quiet, leaving them once again surrounded only by wind and stars as Michael flew them through the night.

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The pair touched down in the small yard behind Lyan’s house, Michael still holding onto him as his wings folded into their resting position. It was late enough that they doubted anyone in the neighborhood had seen them, especially since Michael’s wings had cooled down enough to stop trailing light behind them before they'd even reached town. Without the flames to draw attention to them, he was often able to maneuver amidst the darkness completely unnoticed.

Lyan smiled, resting his head against the taller man’s chest. “I’m glad you offered to fly me back home. It was a lot more fun than I was expecting it to be.”

“I still can’t believe KITT told you to look after me,” Michael scoffed, rolling his eyes and shaking his head. “Some gall he’s got.”

Stepping away and moving to unlock the back door, Lyan laughed. “Still haven’t gotten the hang of letting others look out for you, huh? At least come inside for a bit. Don’t take off on me just yet.”

Michael obliged, pleased to have somewhere to sit and rest. Lyan’s place had essentially become his home away from home. As he stepped up to the door, his wings retracted into his back, hidden beneath his shirt. Even without it, only the silvery base of the implant would've remained visible across his shoulder blades and down his back. Despite the couple of years it had been, he still wasn’t used to the wings completely, and their ability to go from a wingspan longer than he was tall to completely nonexistent in seconds was one of the things that always shocked him the most. At least it meant he didn't have to deal with them all the time.

Lyan quickly got changed out of his day clothes while Michael took a seat on the couch in the living room. The day had taken a lot out of him. He almost didn't notice when he started to drift off.

“You know,” Lyan said, seeing just how tired the other man was, “you're always more than welcome to stay the night here. It really looks like you'd benefit from it right now, and I think we'd both appreciate the company.”

It took Michael a second to respond, but when he remembered that the alternate option was to head back to headquarters, he instantly made up his mind. “When you put it that way, it's hard to turn down the offer,” he smiled.

Lyan looked at him softly, then reached to help his partner up from his seat. “Come on. We should both get some rest. No reason for you to sleep on the couch all alone.”

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After Lyan was asleep, Michael slipped out of their shared bed, careful not to wake him. A bit of rest had been nice, especially beside his partner, but he had something else on his mind. He made his way into the backyard, then extended his wings. They sputtered bits of flame at first, but quickly faded to plain golden-brown feathers. Still not perfect, he thought to himself, but getting a hell of a lot better.

With a strong few flaps, he took to the sky, heading back towards the Foundation. He wasn’t leaving, however. In fact, he’d snagged Lyan’s keys on the way out, and was simply planning to keep his promise by picking up his car. If he was fast enough about it, he presumed he wouldn’t be stopped by anyone. Devon was likely fast asleep, with Bonnie either in one of the many guest rooms or already back at her apartment.

It seemed like only a short while before he arrived at the Foundation, and he gave a quick survey of the area to make sure he wasn’t going to hit any snags during his little plan. Nobody was outside, and the building appeared completely dark. He did, however, notice the sleek black Trans Am parked right behind Lyan’s DeVille.

He landed softly between the two vehicles, holding Lyan’s keys in his hands. As expected, the scanner bar on the front of the Trans Am flared to life, casting a faint sweeping red glow on the area.

“Don’t you dare,” Michael whispered through half-gritted teeth, holding up a finger as if to shush his partner's nonexistent lips. “You said you’d cover for me, and I’m still holding you to that.”

“Devon will notice the car’s gone, you know.” KITT matched Michael’s volume, keeping his voice projection to a minimum. “And if he really wants to find out why, I can’t exactly keep him and Bonnie from reviewing my memory banks.”

“That’s something for me to deal with when it comes up, pal.” He turned, opening the door to the Cadillac. “But for now, I’m heading back to stay with Lyan. And you’re staying here to cover for me. Butch 'n Sundance'll be all saddled up again tomorrow, partner. Promise.”

With that, Michael drove off into the night, opening the convertible roof and allowing his wings to stick out behind him, feathers rustling in the night air.

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A short while later, he parked the Cadillac along the curb outside Lyan’s house. Michael had gotten so used to having a vehicle that could drive itself at triple-digit speeds, and admittedly, he felt a bit awkward driving back in complete silence, but it was the least he could do. The original plan, after all, was to make sure Lyan had his car back by morning. A little earlier than that couldn’t hurt, and heading out again had given him a bit of extra time alone with his thoughts.

After locking up, he made his way back inside. For a moment, he hesitated, debating on whether or not to sleep on the couch. Waking his partner was the last thing he wanted to do. He wasn’t even sure he’d be able to get to sleep himself. Instead, he sat at the edge of the bed for a moment.

Michael hadn't retracted his wings before coming inside this time, and they rested against the blankets behind him. A few of his feathers brushed against Lyan as Michael stretched, and he pulled back instinctively, worried the slightest disruption would be enough to bother him.

The other man stirred slightly, but didn't wake, and Michael decided the comfort he got from being near his partner outweighed the assumed risk of waking him up. Just as he was about to climb under the covers, however, he noticed Lyan was sleeping on top of them in a way that would make that nearly impossible. It didn't matter to him much. He was used to long nights on the road away from home, no time or energy to even bother stripping off his heavy jeans. Tonight was no different. All he wanted to do was fold his wings, curl up beside a warm body, and call it a night.

No sooner than he had done so did he remember why he usually slept with his wings deactivated: they tended to get in the way.

Retracting them would take too much energy, though. At this point, he just wanted to sleep. He extended one, allowing it to drape over the side of the bed, which immediately made things a lot more comfortable. Then, very gently, he went to wrap the other around the person sleeping beside him. As hesitant as he was to admit it, even just to himself, Lyan had been right… the physical contact really was nice.

Still asleep, Lyan stirred again, tucking himself further into the blanket-like embrace of feathers. They were soft and warm, and his subconscious mind must've realized Michael had come back.

Michael's feathers bristled slightly, and he worried that his wings might accidentally ignite. As much as he found repose in the situation, he couldn't help but think about the possibility for it to backfire on them both. But Lyan wasn't one of the Foundation scientists who wanted to perform tests on their machinery, nor was he one of the numerous people who had used Michael's wings against him. Lyan never meant him any sort of harm. He knew that. Lyan was someone he could trust. Someone who cared about him.

It took him a moment to process his own thoughts, but soon, Michael relaxed again. The day's tension slipped away, and he held his partner affectionately in his wing. Then, in almost no time at all, he drifted off to sleep.

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Michael awoke to a faint bit of morning light streaming in through Lyan’s bedroom window. He rolled over, realizing he was alone in the bed, his wings still extended from the night before. The feathers were ruffled awkwardly, but more importantly, the wings themselves felt incredibly uncomfortable. He often forgot that, despite being prosthetic implants, they were far from fully inorganic. Maybe it wasn’t the wisest decision to have slept on them, even if the human contact had been nice.

He stood up, rubbing sleep from his eyes and stretching his arms above his head. His wings followed suit and automatically opened to their full length, but not without smacking against the wall and almost knocking a photograph off its hanger.

“Shit!” Michael exclaimed, having startled himself. So much for an easy wake-up.

“Well, good morning to you, too,” came an amused voice from the other room.

Michael quickly retracted his wings into his back and made his way to the living room, the open floor plan allowing him to see his partner seated on a barstool in front of the stove, spatula in hand.

“I’m making breakfast. You want some?” Lyan asked, looking up from what he’d been cooking. The savory scent of herbs and meat and fried potatoes that wafted from his pan was enough to make the other man's mouth water.

Michael’s instinct was to check the clock, but as he turned towards its spot on the wall, he decided he didn’t much care what time it was. It had been a long night, and an even longer few days. He deserved this.

Just as he was about to take Lyan up on his offer, he was interrupted by a voice coming through his comlink.

“Michael? Michael are you there?”

“Thought I had this thing turned off still,” Michael grimaced, speaking mostly to himself. “I swear, if he brought the team here…”

Lyan laughed. “If he’s getting in touch, that means he’s close enough to be in range, remember? You’d better respond.”

Michael’s head whipped to face the windows looking out on the street. Sure enough, the Trans Am was parked just out front. Thankfully, alone.

“KITT…” Michael said into the comlink, exasperated. “I thought we had a deal.”

“I wouldn’t be here if it wasn’t important Foundation business, Michael. Devon needs us to rendezvous with the semi. He said to tell you he has vital information in regards to our current mission.”

Michael exhaled sharply. “Finally.” As much as he would’ve loved a good break, the case they had been dealing with had hit a stressful dead end, and wrapping things up would allow for some much-needed closure. Maybe after that, he could really make up for all the lost time.

He walked over to the stove, placing a hand on Lyan’s shoulder. He couldn't help but let his eyes drift to the meal he'd unfortunately have to skip. “You know I'm a fan of your cooking,” he said, “and as much as I’d love to be able to stay…” Michael paused, standing up straight to shake off the lingering traces of sleep. “It seems like I’ve got some other stuff to deal with.”

“If that’s what’s been eating at you lately, I’m sure it’s a big deal. Anything you feel like sharing?” In truth, Lyan didn’t much care to involve himself with Michael’s line of work. It was hard to imagine his lover out there in the field, interacting with systems far too complex for himself to understand, trying to solve the world's problems by himself while often creating others in the process. He often turned a blind eye to it all, for better and for worse. But he knew it was just as hard for Michael, whether he showed it or not. It was the least he could do, to be a shoulder to lean on. And he'd be lying if he said he didn't occasionally get a kick out of hearing the details of a case or two.

“How about I catch you up on everything once it’s dealt with, huh? For now, I have somewhere else to be. A lot of folks are probably waitin' for me.” He leaned down and gave Lyan a kiss on the head. “I’ll come back as soon as I can. Stay safe, will ya?”

Lyan, nearly finished with his cooking, stood up from his barstool and caught Michael by the shirtsleeve. “Hey. I’m the one who should be telling you to stay safe.” He pulled his partner into a quick hug, then took hold of his hand and looked him in the eyes with a grin. “Kick some ass for me, hon.”

Michael smiled in return, then out the door he went.

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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.

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