Fuel
by Velma
There was no race the next weekend, so the workload in the garage was light, affording the crew some rare and much-needed time off. Joey had headed down to Orlando to see his family and spend time with his daughter. JC, having nothing much better to do, had gone with him. Justin? Well, Justin hung around mostly. Or constantly, rather, as it seemed he was always underfoot. Which was okay for all of a couple hours, until he walked in on Chris and Lance playing naked tonsil hockey in the kitchen of their house. Chris figured it was time to say something.“Really, kid, you’ve got a weekend free. Take off. Live a little. Enjoy your newfound success. Score with some chicks. Or, you know,” Chris stumbled, “go off and have anonymous sexual encounters of your choosing. Or something. Just.” Chris glanced toward the house, flustered. “Dude, you have to get off the property. You’re crimping my style and Lance won’t let me get any again until he’s sure we’re alone.”
Justin snickered but promised to be gone in less than an hour. It was two before Chris finally waved goodbye as Justin’s truck pulled out of the driveway.
“He’s gone?” Lance called from inside.
“We’ve got the place to ourselves finally,” Chris said, still watching the road.
“Good,” Lance said as he came up behind Chris, wrapping his arms around him. “Is that a socket wrench in your pocket or are you just happy to see me?”
The thing about Lance was that he was a sneaky bastard and he had Chris pretty much wrapped around his finger, regardless of how much Chris liked to think otherwise. He’d get naked, which was a world of pretty, and do obscene things to Chris’s body for his own purposes.
In this particular instance, Chris found himself sprawled on the bed, Lance’s mouth on a nipple and his hand jacking Chris’s cock. He was saying something, Chris thought idly, but Chris was way too far gone to be paying attention. Chris murmured his agreement to whatever Lance was asking, anything to get more of that mouth, and pushed Lance’s head south. Lance was only too happy to oblige.
It was only afterward, when Chris could finally see straight again, that he thought to ask Lance what exactly he’d said yes to.
Lance smiled smugly and kissed Chris. “You’re going to see Kevin tomorrow.”
Chris groaned in protest, the effect of which was muffled somewhat by the presence of Lance’s tongue in his mouth. He knew he’d go, though.
He was so whipped.
*
Things weren’t nearly as quiet over at the Richardson operation. Chris could hear hammering coming from the direction of the garage, so he headed over, leaning in the doorway and trying to figure out what exactly was going on.
Kevin was half under the body of the car, his grease-stained jeans poking out from the back end, and it looked to Chris like he was trying to hammer out the dents in the frame. Brian, watching with a bemused expression, looked up as Chris approached and offered him a careful smile. “Chris,” he said softly, sticking out his hand, “been too long, man.”
Chris shook Brian’s hand, a little more relieved than he expected at Brian’s smile. “I know, man. I know.” He loved Brian. Brian ruled. Chris didn’t expect to be anywhere near as lucky when it came to Kevin. He glanced down, raising an eyebrow at Brian. “What’s he trying to do, exactly?”
“He seems to think the body can be fixed,” Brian leaned in, shaking his head as he whispered, “by hand even. Stubborn fucker.” He winked at Chris. “Not unlike someone else I used to work with.”
“Who are you talking to, Littrell?” Kevin grumbled from under the car. “Let your imaginary friend alone and hand me the air hammer.”
Chris leaned down and pressed the piece of equipment into Kevin’s hand. “There you go, chief.”
Kevin jerked up at the sound of Chris’s voice, a loud thud echoing through the garage. Both Chris and Brian winced. “Um. Ow?” Chris said, stepping back as Kevin rolled fully into view.
“What the hell are you doing here, Kirkpatrick?” Kevin glared at Brian, who was slowly backing toward the door. “And where do you think you’re going, Brian?”
“Uh, I just remembered I had a thing. You know. That thing? Leigh’s gonna be pissed if I miss it. Really important thing.” He glanced from Kevin to Chris, smiling a little before he ducked out the door.
Kevin glared after Brian a moment longer before his eyes shifted to Chris. “Well?”
Chris shoved his hands in his pockets and picked a spot on the wall to look at. “I wanted to thank you. You know. For saving our asses on Sunday.”
Kevin shrugged, turning back to the car. “We were out of the running. It’s not like you were a threat anymore.”
“You didn’t have to do it, is the point.” Chris shifted uncomfortably. “It was a pretty big thing of you to do, Kevin. Especially after, well. You know.” He sighed.
“You would have done the same thing for me, Chris.”
Chris didn’t answer. He thought maybe it was because he was nowhere near as sure as Kevin seemed to be, and he had no idea what he’d done to earn that. “Thanks, man.”
“You’re welcome,” Kevin said, glancing over his shoulder. “Was there something else?”
Chris chewed on his lip. Yeah. There were a lot of other things. Like Kevin’s finances. Chris’s crash. Kristin. How things between them had so quickly gone to hell. Chris didn’t know how to talk about it. He had no idea how to start the conversation. “You need some help or something?” he asked finally. When in doubt, offer manual labor.
Kevin stared at him for a long minute. “Grab a hammer, if you want. Help me beat this thing into submission.”
“Yeah, okay.” Chris grabbed a hammer and rolled under the car.
They worked like that for what felt like hours. Not talking, just pounding away at sheet metal, trying to flatten dents. It was pretty clearly an exercise in futility, but Chris wasn’t about to call Kevin on that. And as much as his arms burned, he wasn’t about to quit before Kevin did.
Kevin eventually threw his hammer down in disgust, sighing with resignation. “There’s no point in this,” he said, pushing out from under the car.
Chris scooted out after him, setting his hammer carefully in the toolkit. “Are things really that bad?” he asked quietly.
“What?”
“Are things so bad that you’re trying to save this frame rather than use it as the scrap metal it is?”
Kevin frowned. “It’s stress relief. That’s all.”
“Yeah.” Chris stared at his feet.
“You, uh.” Kevin scratched his neck, watching Chris. “Can I offer you a beer or something?”
Chris shook his head. “I didn’t – I don’t want to impose. I just stopped by to say thank you. The workout was just a fringe benefit.” He turned to go.
Kevin was silent for a moment, then called after Chris, “You don’t have to just go or whatever. Have you ever seen the shop?”
Chris hesitated, then turned, shaking his head. “Nope.”
“C’mon, then,” Kevin said. “Let me show you around.”
They ended up in Kevin’s office afterward. It wasn’t as uncomfortable as Chris had expected, the two of them, but it wasn’t without its awkward moments. Kevin excused himself for a moment to make a phone call, and Chris used the opportunity to wander around the space, checking out the photographs, the memorabilia. The whole span of Kevin’s career was represented on those walls – articles about the great Kirkpatrick-Richardson friendship and rivalry, trophies, and frame after frame of captured images.
He paused in front of one of the two of them, right after Kevin had won Daytona. Chris was draped over his shoulder, beaming. He’d finished third, what would be his strongest finish there.
‘You were best friends before anything.’ Lance’s voice echoed in his head.
Chris had moved onto a picture of Kevin and his wife by the time the other man returned. “How old’s the baby now?” he asked, not looking up.
“Year and a half,” Kevin said, pointing to a picture on his desk. “Tommy’s walking now.”
Chris looked up and met Kevin’s eyes. “You’re happy, huh?”
Kevin nodded. “It’s what I always wanted, Chris. I was never,” he paused and Chris could tell he was struggling to find the right words. “I’m not…” he paused again.
“Hey, look,” Chris said, “it’s not, I mean. Whatever, okay? It’s over, it’s done with, there are only a handful of other people in the world who ever knew there was anything between us and you don’t owe me any explanations. We never made promises. It’s not like. It’s just.” He took a deep breath. “Maybe we should let the past go, is all.” Man, he should just learn to shut his mouth.
“I could have handled it better.”
Chris’s lips quirked. “Yeah, maybe showing up at the track and finding you locking lips with her wasn’t the best way to find out that you’d moved on, but hell. I don’t know what would have been easier. And here’s the deal. I’m happy now, with Lance. And you are, too, yeah?”
Kevin looked down at a picture at his desk and smiled. “Yeah, Kris. We love each other. It’s good.”
“Okay, then,” Chris said. “I still ought to kick your ass for running me into the wall.” Kevin flinched. “But that wasn’t intentional, either. Took me a lot of years to realize that, but. The track was wet, we were both being stupid, and I got loose. Shit happens. It’s time to let it go.”
Chris could hold a grudge for years, had in fact kept a lot of anger stored up inside all that time. But even he knew it was time to move on. He thought back to AJ, to Lance, to what they’d both said and shook his head, laughing. Kevin looked up, confused.
“Three years, man. Three years of virtual silence and we managed to get back to speaking terms in a couple hours. I’m going to hear a lot of ‘I told you so’ when I get home.”
Kevin smiled. “I guess we suck it up, huh? I know Brian’s going to be thrilled. He’s missed being able to pick Joey’s brain about the shop.”
“Yeah,” Chris said slowly. “Yeah, about that…” Kevin raised an eyebrow. “How’s your outfit holding up?”
“Fine.” Kevin’s voice was formal again. Chris sighed. “Nick’s doing well. Can’t complain.”
Chris grunted. “Hell, Justin’s doing great and I’m still sweating it. It’s really hard, being a single car owner. The big boys are sure as hell gunning for us. Pearlman wants nothing more than to see us go under, swear to God he’s already tried to get Justin to look at another ride.”
Kevin grimaced at the mention of Lou’s name. “Cold day in hell that either of us lets our boys near him. Seriously, I don’t think I ever realized how much business there was to this business. It’s hard to have any sort of staying power when you’re living race to race.”
“You ever,” Chris really couldn’t believe he was even mentioning it, “you ever thought about joining up with someone else?”
“Who?” Kevin snorted. “Penske? Surely not Pearlman. None of these guys are looking for partners, they’re looking for people to sell their shops to them. I can think of one, maybe two people I’d ever even consider going into business with, and neither has ever made the offer.”
Chris gnawed on his lip, watching Kevin. “We used to talk about it, remember? KRI Racing?”
Kevin smiled. “I seem to recall it was RKI, but yeah, I remember.”
The wheels were turning in Chris’s head now, and as was often the case with him his mouth started moving before his head had caught up. “What if we did?”
“Did what?” Kevin asked.
“Joined forces. I mean, it would make sense. Our teams know each other, they worked together for years. We’d have stock car racing’s two golden boys racing under the same banner, man. The marketing alone would be huge.”
“You can’t be serious,” Kevin said. “Where is this coming from, Chris? I mean, before today, we exchanged painful pleasantries across dinner tables and at owner’s meetings. It’s great we’re burying the hatchet and all, but don’t you think maybe you’re jumping the gun just a little?”
Chris smiled wryly. “Yeah, well. I hadn’t really thought that much about the idea before I said it, so, you know. It’s not like I had this great plan to come over here and make you a business proposal. Seriously, Kev, between the two of us we have the best guys in the pits today. We combine all that expertise? We’d be pretty damn hard to beat. I don’t know if it could work, but man. It deserves some consideration, anyhow. Don’t you think?”
Kevin frowned. “You sure you haven’t been talking with Howie or Brian or my guys recently?”
Chris smiled innocently. “Me? No. Vow of silence and all that. But it’s not like. If we did this, Kevin, it helps both of us. Not just one of us.”
“Okay. Okay, I’ll think about it,” Kevin said. “I’ll talk it over with my boys, with Kris, see what they think. But man, you and I working together again? It’d be the talk of the track.”
“Yeah,” Chris grinned.” It’d kind of be worth it for that alone.” He nodded toward the door. “I should get going. Lance’ll be wondering where you buried the body.”
Kevin laughed, and it struck Chris then, just how much he’d missed that sound. Because, yeah, for a whole lot of years there Kevin had been his best friend. They’d been lovers, but the more Chris thought about it the more evident it was that his anger at Kevin hadn’t been because of lost love. It had been hurt pride more than anything else, jealousy and some bitterness, and he’d wasted too much time already.
Chris bumped Kevin’s shoulder, smiling. “We’ll talk, then?”
Kevin nodded. “I’ll be in touch.”
“Thanks again for saving the kid’s ass out there. I owe you one,” Chris said as he headed for the door.
“We’re even,” Kevin said. “And Chris?” Chris paused and turned back toward him. “No matter what you think, you’d have done the same.”