beyondtheline | I sure like the feeling of an endless road

I sure like the feeling of an endless road

[A few hours of open road makes for easygoing fun. It's great to be traveling again, and the feeling of Chrissy leaning up against his back, holding on tight while he whips ahead on a wide-open freeway through the pitch black of night is like nothing else. The last time they were racing up and down this freeway, they were on the way to go burn a bunch of people's lives down - but now that's hours back, back with the rest of the city. They've left the lights and have nothing to look at but the pavement in Johnnie's headlight, the glimpses of stars shining weakly through hazy clouds, and occasionally an oncoming car.

Johnnie hasn't exactly been trying to tune in to his senses or abilities or whatever it is he has - he's just been cruising, letting the night go by, enjoying their plunge northward without a care or a thought. So it is deeply irritating when the pavement quickly fades to a well-worn dirt track that almost tosses him and Chrissy to the ground, and it takes all of his skills to get the front wheel under control and to slow down before they hit a rock that really might launch them into the nearest alfalfa field. Or whatever it is that's here, whenever they've found themselves. Somewhere pre-freeway. Boo.

But there are a few lights ahead, and he did need a stop to pee, so, fuck it.]

Well, shit. Y'know, I dunno exactly where we are. Last sign said San Jose was still fuckin' hours off. You good? That was kinda shaky.

[As long as this dirt road stays packed, they can drive it, but it's going to be slow. Good thing they're almost to somewhere.]

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Yeah! We'll get lots more. There's a lot of music I still want you to hear.

[She likes getting to hear how the speaker works, and dances a little in place. Now that it's not as emotional for him, she feels a like it's okay to give him a hip bump and get him to do a little dance with her. It's playful and silly, there's no reason to get moving for real.]

Did you find anything you wanted?

[It feels like they're close to wrapping things up here. She found some things and there's about $30 left to spend. Maybe if they can't find a way to spend it all she can talk him into giving them that little bit extra in cash. He seems to like them, so she thinks she might have a shot.]

[Sure, he'll dance along, why not. A minute or two of boogeying in the shop and some laughter are always worth it.]

Me? I dunno. Kinda eyeing those knives but if that speaker's the rest of the thirty then I don't really need nothin' here.

[And with the total of camping gear, ukulele, and speaker - yeah, that amounts to a hundred, the guy tells them. The knives are nice but just not worth it - there will always be another pawn shop anyway, they have more they need to turn over. They got lucky here but they'll need to be smarter for the next one.

Anyway, Johnnie is ready to move on. Poking his nose into pawn shop corners is the least interesting thing he's intending on doing in this city. The Phantom Riders record was a shock, but it's time to get going.

They get a receipt printed up that lists out their store credit purchases, and Johnnie scoops up the camping stuff and nudges the door open.]

You got the rest of it, babe?

Yeah, I've got it.

[She gets everything piled up in her arms and offers the guy working a grin before saying goodbye and trotting out after Johnnie. They were in there for a while, she's surprised they managed to make it that long. But she's got some goodies and they've got a way to get music on the road, so it was worth it.]

Next shop, we'll just be in and out.

[It feels like maybe she should promise that, since she knows sometimes she can enjoy indulging in shopping a little too much. He's a guy, he doesn't like stuff like that. But he doesn't mind treating her to things she enjoys and she loves that about him.

They work together to get everything put away, and in no time at all they're back on the road. It's not the right time to get the speaker tied down on the bike and get music playing, that can happen when they're on the road for real. But it only takes about ten minutes to find the next place, and Chrissy finds a few more things to pawn before they hop off the bike.]

We may not get as lucky at this place. What do we do if they ask for ID?

I think we just assume they're gonna ask, so don't go in yet. You ever pay someone to buy alcohol for you? It's the same thing.

[No point wasting time getting their faces known by getting kicked out. They got really lucky at the last spot but he learned from it. The key is to hang out here a moment and see who walks by who might be an easy target.

Not the older short-haired woman who looks like an outdoorsy type, she's too smart. Not the couple walking past with a stroller, though they might be able to use the cash, but he's not taking his chances with two of them. No, he spots the slightly clueless-looking guy not much older than the two of them, minding his own business as he looks at his phone and walks down the street.

Johnnie runs up to walk alongside him, hands in his pockets.]

Hey! Hey man. I could use a hand here. I gotta turn over some a' my grandpa's watches but I lost my ID, new one's still gettin' processed. Think you could go in there an' sell some stuff for us? We'll give you a cut. I'm just hard up on cash, you'd really be helpin' us out.

Huh?

[The guy doesn't realize he's being spoken to at first, and pauses his Youtomb video and removes his earbuds. He's clearly not used to being interrupted by strangers, so he looks a little hesitant.]

You need something, man?

Oh! Yeah, I just gotta sell some stuff for cash but my ID's stuck in the mail. Can you gimme a hand? I'll give you a cut.

[The man looks hesitant, but he does stop walking to consider it, rather than just pressing on.

It doesn't last, though.]

Uh, sorry, I gotta keep going or I'll be late. Good luck, man.

[Johnnie lets him go with a sigh, then tracks down another. A few tries, a few pleading faces, eventually one of his targets must need the cash too because he comes back at Johnnie's side as he leads him toward Chrissy and the bike.]

Hey babe, you wanna grab Grandpa's watches? Found someone who can help us out. Seriously, dude, real lifesaver.

Really? Thanks a lot!

[She gives the guy a smile before pulling out the watches in question to hand over to Johnnie. She'd give them directly to the guy but there's no telling if he'll try to take them and run. The fact that Johnnie is trusting future people is pretty impressive, since they've either been shot at or nearly killed at every other visit to the future.]

Yeah, no problem.

[This guy clearly isn't here to talk and is focused on the cash. It makes Chrissy worry he might try to take the money and run. If he does that, they'll get him with minimal effort.

He seems to be honest enough though, because he heads inside as soon as Johnnie gives him the watches and he comes out about ten minutes later with cash. Chrissy's eyes narrow as she watches him, feeling like a lioness ready to pounce if the guy doesn't go straight to Johnnie to hand over the money.]

[Oh, Johnnie is ready to tackle this guy if they need to. The door out is a bottleneck and Johnnie knows exactly where his knife and pistol are.

But in the end, most people even in the future are honest enough when it comes to a mutually beneficial deal. Johnnie takes the cash and fans through it to count it, then hands the guy a chunk of the change.]

Thanks, man. You're a big help. Seeya round maybe, yeah?

[Not a chance. But the guy seems satisfied with his easy earnings, and the remnant is still a huge quantity in Johnnie's eyes. He stuffs the bills in his pocket quickly so he's not waving them around on the street, but he gives Chrissy a grin as he hops onto the bike.]

See? Perfect. That's the way to do it, nice an' quick. Got us a couple hundred more too. We'll be back home so fuckin' loaded we'll have months of cash at least.

Everybody back home will be real impressed we got so much!

[As soon as he's seated she hops on behind him and gives him a squeeze, laughing as she imagines everyone's faces when they pull out wads of cash. It makes her miss Dale and Rigo, and especially Alex. They've barely been gone at all but it somehow feels like it's been months since she's seen them.]

I wonder what your brothers are up to right now. Not in this time, but all the way back home.

[Back in 1967, Alex is crouched beneath his mother's car, cursing under his breath so she won't hear him get frustrated as he tries to do the repairs necessary to keep her comfortable and able to get around. He's got to get back to Vegas eventually, but it's quiet enough he can linger and get things done that his Mama needs.

About ten minutes away, Rigo and Dale are lazily sprawled out up against the couch. Not on it, but rather on the floor propped up against it. They're both high and working on getting higher, a bottle of beer shared between them. The fact that they're both naked is something that they're clearly fine with and used to now, and the haze of smoke after a good fuck has made everything hilarious.

Dale chuckles at something out of nowhere, and passes the joint over to Rigo.]

You think Johnnie and Chrissy are actually finding anything out there?

[He can't remember why they left, what they set out in search of. But it's pretty funny to him right now just thinking about the two of them focusing on anything long enough to finish a task.]

[Rigo takes the joint for a long pull, then lets himself slouch lower with a lazy smile.]

Fuuuuck, wey, they're finding trouble I hope.

[Were they supposed to find anything? Fuck if he knows. Those two are not his concern. Well, Johnnie is sometimes when he needs to turn up for a gig. Chrissy is sometimes when shit's getting extra weird. Otherwise? Whatever, man.

What would add greatly to this is some music but he doubts he can get up right now to actually put on a record. The best he can do is to roll awkwardly forward onto his knees until he can reach the TV to turn it on and find a channel playing either a band or one of those dance tournament shows. He gets the latter, and that's good enough, so he settles back where he was and passes the joint over.]

We gotta get our people on one of these shows someday, compa, we'd wipe the floor with those little white boys. Look at 'em.

[It's tempting to slap his ass when he gets up, but Dale initially refrains in favor of watching and appreciating his ass instead as he leans over to mess with the TV. That joint is gratefully taken, and he enjoys a hit as his eyes slowly drift over from watching the TV to looking at Rigo.]

You think they'd let us in?

[He sounds doubtful but is high enough to be hopeful and optimistic.]

Maybe with Chrissy they'd let us.

[The joint is passed back and he laughs, head flopping back to rest against the couch.]

Fuuuuuuck, why do I keep mentioning my brother's pain the ass of a girlfriend?

[It's hilarious.

He rubs a hand down his face and grabs the beer to finish off the rest of the bottle. It's tossed across the floor and he grins as he hears it roll.]

Ohhh, someone wants a little white pussy, huh?

[Fuck, that's fucking funny. Rigo punches Dale in the shoulder, then nudges the bottle with his foot.]

Better watch yourself, man. Telling me all your secrets like that?

[It's stupid and he's high and it's funny - good thing, too. He doesn't tolerate bullshit mind games. Or cheating, which he halfway expects Dale will do one of these days, but he's not going to think about it until it happens. Especially not when they're here melting onto the floor in the summer heat.

He manages this time to tap the bottle hard enough with his toe to get it rolling even farther away. Which isn't exactly what he wanted, but he just can't reach it now so that's that.]

You can make it up to me by getting another beer.

What the fuck?

[Dale laughs, nearly howls with laughter at what Rigo's saying. Maybe at one time he would've loved to charm Chrissy and steal her away from his brother just for the thrill of it and for the sake of pride but he sees her as an annoying kid he constantly has to clean up after. Yeah, he's fond of her, but it's definitely in the same way he is Johnnie. Not as fond, obviously. ]

She's family, you can't say shit like that.

[He's laughing though, and punches at Rigo's arm before he gets up to his feet to head into the kitchen to grab another beer from the fridge. It's cracked open and he chugs most of it before he delivers it to Rigo with a smirk on his face.]

Don't say shit, I'm getting another.

[Rather than make himself feel like a little bitch for being the beer maid he reaches over to grab Rigo by the hair and tug his head back enough that it's easy for Dale to lean down for a kiss. It's definitely sloppy but who the fuck cares? There's no tongue involved, he's being a gentleman.

That smirk stays on his face as he pulls away, shuffles off, itches his ass, and burps as he heads back to the kitchen to grab the last beer so Rigo can have a full one. He's practically a saint over here.]

You better, I know where you sleep.

[And the reassurance keeps him from dousing Dale in the last mouthful of beer he's been left with, also. He laughs as he finishes it off, causing some to spill from the side of his mouth and onto his chest. Whoops. Feels nice and cold, though, and he needs that right now.

When Dale comes back with the last one, Rigo swipes it and just presses it first straight to his forehead. And then he starts to try to ask something, but he's just so damn high he forgets the question before it leaves his mouth. Oh well. Maybe it's a sign to just crack that beer open and drink the delicious cold right into him.]

Mm. Hey, have you heard from Jet or Tomás lately?

[He's too high to have a serious conversation probably, but he does miss those guys and still hasn't seen them since he got back. Would be pretty fucked up if they wound up in prison but it's just one of those things that happens sometimes.]

[Dale's head is back against the couch and he's staring at the ceiling. It's not that he's not listening to what Rigo's asking, it's more he isn't sure how to answer.]

Nah.

[Oh.

Okay so that was easy, a one word response sometimes speaks volumes. Then again, Rigo's only been back...however long he's been back. He probably doesn't know.]

Fuck. [His head lifts, and his eyes drift over to watch white people dancing on TV.]

Jet's locked up. [His eyes glance over to Rigo to try and catch his reaction.] County.

[Looking back to the TV then, and he taps out the beat to the song that's playing on his leg.]

Tomás too. [They're good guys. Every time he hears one of theirs is killed or put in jail or worse, he feels the loss. Hell, sometimes he feels personally responsible. He doesn't in either of these cases, but it's still a fucking downer to talk about.]

Haven't heard from either of them since they went in.

[Oh, yeah. He'd heard something about that at one point. But not that they hadn't been heard from. Goddamn.

Well, so it goes.]

Fuck.

["So it goes" doesn't make it any less awful, of course. Those guys are good. He misses Jet's races, misses Tomás' stupid bravado. But jail is better than dead, at least. They'll find their way back if they can.

He's quiet for a moment after that, just working at his beer and idly watching the dancers on screen. There's a Black couple in there, actually, and they're damn good too.]

See, there's hope for us all yet.

[Rigo says as he gestures with his bottle and a chuckle.]

[That makes Dale grin, one of his unguarded and sincere expressions that makes him look boyish. He glances over at Rigo after admiring the couple on screen, and lets his hand flop over so their fingers are nudging together. Sometimes it's nice to be so fucking high and infatuated with someone that he can forget that he's in charge of something bigger than himself.

All that responsibility is a weight he proudly carries, but it can really drag him down when he lets it. Rigo keeps things lighter. Those smiles where he sets aside his bravado and is just his real self seem to be happening more and more lately.

Yeah, he's not examining that too closely. Figuring out what that means still scares the hell out of him.]

You think they'd let two guys like us on there?

[Does he mean just two brown kids from the wrong part of town going to dance with girls they find for the night, or does he mean the two of them specifically dancing together on the program for everyone to see? He keeps it intentionally vague, trying to imagine a world where it's acceptable for two men to dance together on TV like they don't have a fucking care in the world and they belong there.]

Nope.

[He says it lightly enough, like it's funny, and it sort of is. Two guys? Never. If they let Black kids on there maybe they'll let any color, but two guys dancing together, no chance.]

And if they did, we'd get pelted with rocks on our way out the door. Not worth it. But...

[With a cheeky little grin, he lifts Dale's hand to his lips and kisses his knuckles.]

We could each have a girl and be making eyes at each other across the stage instead. Might make the actual dancing part hard, though. Guess I'll stick to watching your ass from behind my drum set.

[Fuck.

The things Rigo does to him aren't even funny. They're making his stomach do this weird ass fluttering thing, and he's pretty sure his heart is skipping beats and when the fuck did he become a girl about all of this?

He licks at his lips after that kiss to his knuckles, and his eyes go from Rigo's perfect lips to his hand, then back up to Rigo's face. He's just about to say something sentimental and probably romantic when he hears his ass will just have to be admired, and he snorts with laughter as he turns his hand so their fingers are better twined together. He's able to tug Rigo in toward him for a kiss that for once isn't in any hurry at all.

There's no pressing need to do anything more, no need to fuck. Just kissing for the sake of it, because it feels good. His free hand presses to Rigo's cheek, and for a few seconds his eyes close and he enjoys this kind of intimacy because it's so rare for him to get to have.]

Guess I'll wear tighter pants next time so you can really appreciate it.

[Being a smart ass isn't off limits apparently.]

Who needs to be on TV dancing anyway? That's shit white people want. We can dance all we want right here.

[But yeah, he's not getting up to do that. Because his lips are seeking out Rigo's again, because why not? They're high and have nothing better to do than indulge in each other.]

[Part of him is never going to get used to Dale being soft. And for Dale, this counts as soft. Rigo hums appreciatively against his lips at the thought of tighter pants, and gladly goes along with the pleasant haze of everything here - beer, weed, and Dale.

When he has to come up for air, he lingers there anyway, settling his forehead against Dale's as he takes a breath.]

I'm too high to dance right now.

[Just in case Dale needed to know. It's one of those thoughts that's just spoken as soon as it arrives, and as soon as he hears himself say it it makes him laugh.]

I'd be dancing like I have five feet all trying to trip each other at once.

[His laughter is warm as he turns his head to kiss at Rigo's temple. They reek of weed and beer, and still a little bit from sex, and that's fine by him.]

We're too high to do anything right now.

[Which is exactly why making out is perfect. There's touching and kissing and neither of them are coordinated to make it amazing but are high enough to like it anyway.

After a few more minutes he needs to catch his breath, and their foreheads press together to enjoy a rare moment of silence.]

I gotta head out on a job Alex needs done soon though.

[Soon? He isn't sure if that means hours or minutes or what. He probably needs to remember exact details so he doesn't let his brother down. But right now, it just doesn't feel important.]

Sure, compa. You need a hand? I've got two of those.

[Well, in theory. Right now he's not sure he has any functional ones. He has a look at one of his hands like he needs to make sure it's still there, and wiggles his fingers.]

Yeah. Still got them. You better not do a serious job if you're as high as you are, though. Quieres café?

[He gives Dale a peck of a playful kiss as he asks, then pulls himself up onto his feet with the help of the couch. Too high to dance, yeah, but surely he can figure out coffee. He wants some, or will eventually - even if Dale says no to him joining, he has plenty of other trouble to get up to.]

[Dale arches an eyebrow and tries his best to look aloof and sexy and desirable. In his head, he's thanking whatever out there gave him a hot not boyfriend who will make him coffee when he needs to sober up. In reality, he's high enough that he looks like a stoned grinning idiot.]

Órale -

[He slowly says the word, once again trying to be the man.

It sounds fucking stupid and he knows it, and he winds up laughing at himself and falling back to lean on the couch.]

Oh fuck. I need to get up.

[He needs to take a piss and go wash his face or something. He pushes himself up to his feet and heads toward the bathroom, stopping halfway down the hall when he remembers Rigo asked him something.]

Puedes ir conmigo.

[fucking smooth. He grins and turns to continue his shuffling to the bathroom, but once he gets there he remembers something else he wanted to say and sticks his head out of the doorway to call out.]

Quiero eso, compa!

[These little interjections, one at a time, have Rigo laughing pretty good as they arrive.]

Okay, okay! Go get your shit together.

[It's fucking endearing, though. And that's ridiculous. Dale being high as a kite shouldn't be so damn endearing, he's high as a kite half the damn time.

He gets the coffee pot ready and brewing, then slips into his room to drag some clothing on. They might share the same bed, but there's just no space in one set of drawers for two people's clothing. It's like a storage room now, almost - storage for all his shit. Vaguely surreal.

Getting dressed is awkward and a little silly while this high, though - he's too clumsy to get his socks on standing and has to sit on the edge of the bed. Oh well.]

[Dale wraps things up in the bathroom and saunters over to stand in the doorway to Rigo's room to appreciate the view. He lowly whistles, since he might as well verbally acknowledge he likes what he's seeing. There's no need for him to get dressed in a hurry. Nope, he's just going to lean against the doorframe and let his naked body be on display.]

Guess I better go get my shit together. Nice ass.

[He winks because why not, and then heads into his room that feels more like their room these days. Getting dressed is surprisingly quick, and he falls into bed to sprawl out as much as he can. His head feels like it might float up above the apartment and just stay up in the clouds. He needs a second to anchor himself back down on Earth.]

I sure like the feeling of an endless road

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