rivers_bend

I don't know if I never posted this or if I just can't find it, but I just ganked some Highway icons from crumble72 and went to attach them to my first ever fanfics and there they weren't. So here is the first one. Which is my second piece of fan fiction. And my first writing a request for a pairing that I didn't see as cannon. So thank you again to victorian_tweed for the request.

Title: After Goodbye
Fandom: Highway (2002)
Pairing: Pilot/Johnny
Rating: R
Summary: Pilot has said goodbye to Jack, but hasn’t left quite yet.





Johnny could see Pilot out on the balcony, smoke curling above his head. He’d seen the prodigious number of drugs Pilot had taken in the last 24 hours, been witness to his parting from Jack, and wasn’t sure if Pilot wanted some company or would rather be alone. Both boys had put some face on it, but Johnny thought Pilot looked a little fragile. Suddenly Pilot turned, and pitching his cigarette, came back into the house. Johnny waylaid him.

“Hey… Why don’t you have a shower? Get some sleep, get started back in the morning?”

“Umm… yeah… ok…” Pilot’s smile was wan and Johnny’s chest caught when he saw it. He pushed Pilot in the direction of the master bedroom, grabbing a towel from the cupboard and following him in.

Pilot just stood, staring at his feet, while Johnny turned on the shower, adjusting the temperature, waiting for Pilot to undress, or speak, or in some way show he was still there. For all he was a man of passion and enthusiasm; for drugs, for company, for life, Johnny did have the ability to just watch sometimes, and to actually see people. Especially when it had been a good 18 hours since he ingested anything more potent than a few beers. His heart ached for this boy who had so clearly just walked away from the love of his life and his best friend in one fell swoop, and who quite possibly didn’t even know it.

After a few minutes of the shower running hot onto no one, Johnny pushed Pilot’s jacket off his shoulders and Pilot’s head snapped up. “S’cool dude, I got it.”

“Here’s five good ones” Johnny swiped Pilot’s palm with his own and left him to his shower.

Johnny wandered back out to the living room, but Cole had gone out cruising, and Jack and Cassie didn’t look much like they wanted company, so he turned back to the bedroom. He figured he could do with some sleep himself, so pulled off his shirt and jeans and lay down on the bed, the sound of the shower soothing his nerves.

The sudden quiet woke Johnny from his doze and he lifted his head just as Pilot opened the bathroom door. The light was behind Pilot and Johnny couldn’t see his face as he stood in the doorway, towel around his waist. Johnny, who had grown an affection for Pilot in the last few days, felt now that affection wasn’t a strong enough word, and the stirring in his groin echoed this. It might be partly disappointment at the welcome he had received from Cole, who had been happy to see him, but less demonstratively so than the last time they had been together. They had both moved on. Johnny knew this and had expected the welcome he got, but it stung none-the-less. Now here was Pilot, still damp from the shower. Wearing nothing but a towel, he looked more like a lifeguard was supposed to than a drug dealer after all.

Pilot felt a little more present after his shower, and having said his goodbyes to Jack felt like he wanted to leave now. The bathroom light didn’t illuminate the bedroom very clearly, but he could see that Johnny was on the bed. When he looked towards him, Johnny rolled onto his stomach and faced Pilot. Before Johnny could speak Pilot said, “I think I’ll go tonight, get started… It’s a drive.”

“Just sleep first my man, you’ve been up, been down, been ground and spit out, you need some sleep. There’s clean shorts in the second drawer if you need them.”

Suddenly Pilot felt overcome with weariness. Johnny patted the bed next to him. “Come on, there’s plenty of room.” Pilot pulled open the drawer and pulled on a pair of boxers under his towel. Discarding his towel on a chair, he climbed into the bed. Johnny, still on his stomach, pulled the sheet up over himself and looked towards Pilot’s face. He thought he could see moisture in Pilot’s eye glinting in the faint light from the bathroom, but he couldn’t be sure. Without conscious thought he reached out a finger and brushed Pilot’s cheek. It was damp. Pilot let out a shaky breath and then another and then began to sob. He burrowed under Johnny’s outstretched arm so that Johnny was forced to turn and hold him.

Johnny tried to keep his hips away from Pilot, as the swelling of his cock did not seem entirely appropriate to the situation, but Pilot seemed determined to press the whole length of his body against Johnny, not just to be held while he cried. At risk of falling out of the bed if he continued to move backwards, Johnny had to be satisfied with just lying as still as possible, and concentrated on stroking Pilot’s hair and back soothingly. Slowly Pilot’s sobs turned to sniffles and then to quiet breathing, with only the occasional hitch to give anything away. Johnny continued to smooth his hands over Pilot’s hair and the skin of his back, unsure whether to hope that Pilot would not notice the tumescence pressing against his stomach, or to hope that he would. So caught up in his own turmoil, Johnny didn’t notice that Pilot was growing hard against his own stomach.

Pilot thought of Jack out in the next room, feet broken, arms wrapped around the girl of his dreams, and thought he would break in two, but the arms around him felt good, and he could feel the nudge of Johnny’s cock against his own and it felt like Johnny understood. It felt kind of right. Pilot’s lips found the edge of Johnny’s collar bone and as he traced its length with his tongue, he felt Johnny stiffen in his arms. He ground his hips in closer and Johnny caught his breath. Johnny pushed Pilot far enough away to look him in the eye. “You want this?”

Pilot kissed Johnny full on the lips in response, hands moving over Johnny’s chest, appreciating the muscles that were so close to the surface. Johnny’s hands which had been so carefully stopping their stroking at the waist of Pilot’s boxer shorts moved downwards to cup Pilot’s ass, pulling him closer, moving him so that their cocks were held, pressed together with only 2 thin layers of cotton separating them, captive in their cage of hips. Pilot’s arms were around him now, hands cupping the back of Johnny’s neck, holding Johnny’s face as though drinking from his lips. Now one hand moved down to shyly pluck at the elastic waist of Johnny’s shorts, and now back up to his face, and Johnny was charmed completely by Pilot’s uncertainty which contrasted so markedly with the passionate way he kissed.

Johnny slowly eased his hand under the waist of Pilot’s shorts, caressing skin where moments before he had gripped cotton. When Pilot didn’t protest, he started to pull the shorts down. Pilot’s hand moved down and Johnny stopped, but Pilot was only helping, and soon the shorts, so recently borrowed, were abandoned. “Let me touch you?” Pilot sounded hoarse and Johnny removed his own shorts and guided Pilot’s hand first to his mouth, where he licked it wetly, and then to his cock. He flinched as Pilot grabbed too hard at first but Pilot relaxed and it became clear that he did in fact have some experience of having his hands on an erection, if not someone else’s then at least his own…

As Johnny felt close to coming, he covered Pilot’s hand with his own, stopping him. He reversed their positions, taking Pilot in his hand and stroking him. Pilot’s breath came in gasps and Johnny slowed, gripping with the slightest pressure, hardly moving his hand. “I’d like…. Would you like….” He wasn’t sure if he could ask. “What,” Pilot managed to choke out through the sensation which was occupying nearly every cell of his brain.

“Would you fuck me,” Johnny finally managed.

Pilot didn’t know what to say. His thoughts raced back to Lois, and fucking her. For all her skill she hadn’t made him feel half this good, and still, fucking her had been pretty fantastic. And he thought of Jack, the god of fuck, and the Pandas with their hard fists and harder boots, and of being forced to watch as the person he loved more than anyone was crushed beneath them. He thought of Lucy and all her “Is it me?” He thought of Amy and her vacant eyes and confusion, and of slow dancing to Sweet Child of Mine. He looked at Johnny and thought of a helping hand picking him up out of the dirt when he’d been such an asshole to Cassie, and of the look Johnny had given him that said he knew why, even when Pilot himself didn’t. He could feel Johnny watching the thoughts race through his head, and he understood that Johnny knew what he was asking, and who he was asking it of, no delusions. And he said, “Yes.”