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Going Down After Dover	By : Darcie Category: Individual Celebrities > Athlete/Sports Misc Views: 1315 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction. I do not know the people written about in this fanfiction. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
- 1-Going Down After Dover
- 1
Title: Going Down After Dover
Author: Darcie aka Darkpoetress
Rating: NC-17
Pairing: Matt Kenseth/Dale Jr.
Category: PWP/Slash
Disclaimer: I have no rights to either of these men.
Summary: (Inspired by the first Dover race of the 2004 season which I was in attendance, along with a wallpaper of Matt and Jr. together) Matt slips on Casey’s oil spill and hits the wall. Doesn’t look like he was going to get ahead of Jr. in the points that day, but Jr. is going to make it up to him… in order to fill a bet???
He could hear everything that was happening, could hear the engines starting back up after the second red flag; could hear the announcement of just a few laps remaining, seventeen under green flag to be exact. Fucking seventeen laps. ‘Seventeen…’ A smirk rose to face to at least replace the snarl for a while. Luckily, he had brushed past enough cameras to only be caught by one after his barge through pit road and the garages to find solace in his trailer. And, if he didn’t find solace, he’d find disappointment and another missed opportunity to knock Jr. out of the top spot in the points.
Jr. is currently fourth now…
Matt sighed heavily as he yanked open the door to his trailer and stepped inside to only shut it roughly behind him. There he was all by his lonesome in his trailer before the race was even over. The speakers were on everywhere as the track rumbled with speeding cars to finish out the race in some of the best positions they’ve had in a long time. Without him and Kasey up there in the top five, the spots were open to others, including Jr.
Jr. is now third!>
“Shit…” he grumbled as he pulled off his hat and threw it against the farthest wall as hard as he could. A lot of good that was going to do, but it was better than punching his fist into some wall.
Jr. is battling it out with Stewart for 2^nd! He’s almost got it!
“Fuck…” Matt cursed this time as he began to peel away the racing suit, leaving it in the middle of the small kitchen area as the announcer became more excited with each passing second. Had Jr. gained on Mark Martin too?
And he couldn’t do it as Tony takes 2^nd under checkered flag.
The smirk returned as at least Jr. hadn’t gained one of the top two spots. However, the difference in their points gain would be great, shooting Jr. far above him again; if only the All Star Race had points value, even though the million bucks wasn’t too bad of a deal either. He could hear the cheer from the crowd faintly. It wasn’t like he or Jr. had won the race, and thank God Gordon had scraped the wall earlier as well. Was he doing the same and pouting over in his trailer as well? Or was he relieving his stress with the aid of his hand since the wife had left. Or, had that been Johnson he heard scream suddenly on his dash through the trailers? It very likely could have been since both had gotten out of the race earlier.
“Not like that’s any of my business…” he muttered aloud as he swept a slightly sweaty palm against the cotton fabric of his black wife-beater shirt. He wouldn’t dare wear a white one and not match in uniform completely, but that was besides the fact that he felt rather sexy in this shirt. But, who was he supposed to look sexy for anyway. “Christ I’m losing it…” he thought aloud as suddenly his trailer door was yanked open. Not locking doors come with consequences.
“Shit! You lost it today man!”
There was only one man that owned that voice. Taking a deep breath, Matt crossed his arms over his chest, flexing his biceps without thinking as he faced a flushed Jr. in his doorway. “I know…Thanks for reminding me once again like every fucking camera-person out there…Get your ass in here or out so the door can be shut.”
“Oh…” That was all he retaliated with as he fully stepped into the trailer, shutting the door behind himself to spare Matt the effort of unfolding his arms. “Well…I wanted to just say I’m sorry…You should have been up there with Kasey man…”
“I know, Jr.,” he snapped back, his arms tightening across his chest as he felt a sudden dryness in his mouth. Nonchalantly, she stepped over to the refrigerator, opened it and peered in, finding a large collection of alcohol for the taking. Grabbing a Smirnoff Ice, he glanced over at Jr. who was still standing there stupidly, with that smirk that never left his face. “Want one?”
“Nah…I’m good…” Jr. held up a hand with a Bud can, signaling he had everything he needed but after taking another swig, he found it empty and shot the empty can into the tiny wastebasket just a few feet from where he stood. “Nevermind…I’m gonna need one.”
Matt raised an eyebrow as he reached back into the fridge and pulled out another bottle for Jr. and simply handed it to him, not sure of why the other driver had come into his trailer, and sure as hell was now puzzled over the ‘needing alcohol’ comment. Jr. wasn’t that much of a drunk. “So, what do you need…”
“I know you’re pissed,” The Bud driver suddenly interjected, cutting off Matt’s question with the obvious observation.
“Of course I’m pis…” Matt tried to reply but it seemed he wasn’t going to get much talking done.
“I wanna make it up to you.” Jr. uncapped the Smirnoff and took a long swig, swallowing the chilled liquid fast so that it would hurry up and get into his system before he did what he had planned to do.
There went the Dewalt driver’s eyebrow again as his hand halted the uncapping of his drink, afraid he’d spill it from the sudden shock of Jr. wanting to do something for him. “Make it up to me how, exactly?” He questioned. his already dry throat scratchier than it had been earlier. His hand finally turned the cap enough to leave the bottle open for draining.
Jr. swallowed roughly, his Adam’s apple bobbing slowly, and took an extremely deep breath. It had to be done for so many reasons. But of course, here was the king of bluntness with a man of more literary vocabulary that had the ability to twist words and speak around the subject. Ah, hell. It was now or never. “Take off your pants, Matt.”
Sploosh. There went a mouthful of Smirnoff all over the trailer’s kitchen floor. “Excuse me, Dale? Take off my pants?”
“That’s what I said,” Jr. almost squeaked out, but he steadied himself mentally and cleared his throat. “Now, that we’re on a first name basis… I think we can get this over with…”
“Hold up!” Matt slightly shakily set down his hemptempty bottle and pursed his lips as he tried to analyze the situation. Jr. was here to make ‘it’ up to him, but was demanding the loss of pants. Whenever a loss of pants got involved, it was more than just making ‘it’ up. Someone was behind it, someone like Gordon. “There’s a bet isn’t there?”
Well, he had gotten past the first hurtle of getting it out into the opening, but now Matt had figured it out. Might as well tell the truth, right? “You it dit dead on man…See…I was toasted last night…”
“Try by one o’clock yesterday afternoon,” Matt suggested as his arms crossed over his chest again, feeling slightly angry that he was being subjected to the butt of pranks, and hopefully, not literally.
“Fine, dammit…” He grumbled as he took another swig of the drink. His mind wasn’t numbing enough or fast enough. “I swore I’d win…and Gordon bet me I win or I had to….” Jr. swore under his breath as he pau>paused the explanation and picked back up a few words later. “Or my ass would be fucked….and I mean that too…”
“Dale…I am not taking my pants off for you…”
There was a heavy sigh from the doorway of the trailer. “Then…I guess I need to head over to Jeff’s…” he murmured sadly, not wanting to have that priss Gordon take away his only remaining virginity.
Matt sighed as well as he reached out to grip the base of Smirnoff bottle. He still wasn’t sure what Dale had needed to do, but the demand in itself was startling enough. Of course, he was telling Jr. that there was no way, but the sadness of Dale’s voice made him respond once again, which would definitely get him into trouble later. “You don’t try too hard do you?” he murmured as he continued to clutch the bottle, as if it was some lifeline that would work.
Jr. stopped his short trek back to the door of the trailer, his back to the champion driver he was supposed to be, um, befriending? “So…You’re willing…” o:p>
“Not quite,” whispered Matt, as he noticed his knuckles turning white.
The bud driver exhaled a long breath. “So, I’m working with a yellow flag here?”
“Yes…” came forth a breathily reply. Whoa, was he actually getting turned on by the idea of Jr. paying him back for the anger he was feeling?
“It’ll be quick and…” Jr. turned back around and licked his lips, unaware that he was doing so, and swallowed hard. “Painless. I swear to you it’ll be painless.” Up came Jr.’s arms as if he was swearing in front of a statue of Jesus.
Matt let his grip on the bottle ease and actually moved his hand away from it to rest above the top of his black uniform pants at his hip. “You should stop swearing…It gets you in trouble…”
Jr. scratched the back of head nervously as he stepped closer to where Matt stood, knowing he’d have to drop to his knees sooner or later. Either he took it in the mouth or the ass, and that wasn’t a difficult decision. “You don’t have to tell me twice…” Somewhat shakily, he reached forward and began to unbutton the uniform pants still being worn by Matt.
“Whoa!...um…” Matt interjected as fingers began working on the pants. In just seconds, they’d be slipping off his hips. Wasn’t it a bit soon for any sort of action. He wasn’t even completely hard.
“Damn dude, if you’re gonna be a chick about it… Then, that’s fine… I don’t usually kiss but…this is important…” Jr. mumbled slightly, as a light buzz set in his cerebrum. This made leaning forward easier, eyes slipping closed immediately to press his thin lips against those full lips of his fellow racer in front of him. And, hot damn, if they weren’t as soft as a woman’s, but the response he was greeted with wasn’t womanly. Oh no, Matt was kissing back furiously, even though the timid breaths were giving away the nervousness Matt was feeling.
The lips just seemed to come out of nowhere, like they hadn’t existed, but now after getting a taste of Jr.’s mouth and tongue that was so deliciously moving about with his own, they would forever be in existence. It was a perverted dream gone wrong. Jr. was supposed to be with some random big-breasted blonde or over there with the Rainbow man Gordon, not with him. Since when had Matt been considered ‘sexual territory?’ As he took in another trembling breath through his nose, Matt felt those fingers working his pants again and before he knew it, chilly air-conditioned air was meeting the extreme warmth within his boxers. He wasn’t soft anymore. In fact, he didn’t think he could have been any harder even though he was nervous as hell. Jr. was just turning him on so bad. “Oh my god…” he gasped, breaking the kiss that was preventing proper air intake.
“The ladies all say I’m good, too…I’ve been called ‘god’ quite a few times…” Jr. murmured as the buzz set in a bit further. Damn, having that drink in his car spiked helped out a lot. He wouldn’t have made it here had not for that early dose of alcohol. At least the pants had slipped off. That was one less step left to do in the long process. If it dragged out any longer it would be bordering romantic, especially after that electric kiss. Whoa? Electric….
“Uh huh….” Matt simply responded with, unable to really form a coherent, poetic line as his hazel eyes darted away from the motion occurring in front of him now. Yes, yes, that was Jr. slowly dropping to his knees, face just inches away from his still clothed erection. “Um… I…”
“Shhhhh…” Jr. swallowed hard, his atom’s apple bobbing painfully slow, as his eyes focused upon the silk black boxers in front of him pitched into a horizontal tent. He hadn’t expected to be working on a tent post anytime soon, but he was there, alcohol keeping him buzzed as he ran over the steps in his head, along with little tricks he liked to receive. Hell, he wasn’t going to be a sucky dick-sucker. He at least wanted to be known for being good at it. Calmer than he expected, he lifted his right hand and touched the soft material, bringing forth a gasp from Matt. That helped edge him on. He pinched a piece carefully and pulled it to the side, slipping if off of the head, revealing the length of the Mighty Kenseth.
In between rapid breaths of air, Matt managed to swallow the moisture in his mouth, along with just trying to ease his nervousness. He shivered as he felt the fabric being moved off his erection. God, could he be teased any worse than this? Could it be any more awkward than this? Turns out it could, as he just stood there, pants down, Jr. on his knees. “We…we.. can get through this…. “
A heavy breath. “I know.”
“Just…. Lean forwand nd place your lips on the tip….” A shaky remark.
“I know what to do…” The Bud driver murmured as he slipped his pale blue eyes shut before obeying instructions and leaning forward, his lips making contact with the head. There was a gasp above him with a sudden slap of a hand on the counter. Next, he parted his lips, snaking out his tongue to lick the surface, feeling bolder with each swipe over the sensitive area. ‘Was that a moan?’ his mind screamed as he took his right hand and placed it upon Matt’s hip, his fitipstips lightly stroking the warm skin under the hem of the black wife-beater.
Matt’s palm stung greatly as it just rested there upon the counter in the exact spot he had slammed it down at the first touch. Now, there was no way he could move a single muscle until Jr.’s teasing came to an end. There were swipes of moist tongue about his member, over and over, but what truly caused a moan to be emitted was when that mouth opened further and there wasn’t just moist tongue, there was moist mouth. “Holy….. shit….” He choked out, feeling like it was it was his first blow job back in ninth grade all over again.
It was soft, thick, musky, salty, but overall, Jr. was enjoying the moment as best he could. The sounds Matt were producing were perfect, building up that courage to pull the organ further into his mouth, sucking it in, running his tongue along the bottom as best as possible while he focused on Matt’s moans, random curses to keep his gag-reflex from kicking it, that is, if it still existed, since he tended to binge on quite a few things, drink-wise; food-wise. When he pulled it in as far as possible, he pulled his head back slightly and moved forward again, his lips, tongue, and very gentle teeth running over the flesh. That was when Matt truly began to respond by weaving a hand into the short-hair upon his head as best as possible, nails scraping his scalp, almost begging Jr. to move faster.
The Cup Champion thought he was going to go into some pulmonary arrest; his breath far too rapid to be for normal sex. But that’s what it wasn’t. Having Jr. down there doing those oh-so-fantastic things to his cock was practically blowing his mind, pun intended. His eyelids drooped shut as the muscles in his neck lost their will to hold his head completely upright anymore, exposing his throat to the sky as his left hand moved into Jr.’s hair, urging more of himself into that mouth. “Yessss…” He hissed as he felt a speed change. Jr. was comfortable now, giving all he had to offer, even placing a hand to the base of the erection to stimulate the 17 driver even more. “So… close…” He murmured, pant too too.
Never had he expected to be pleasuring Matt so well, drawing forth those moans with his fast movements, up and down the length, his cheeks drawn in as he planned on bringing this ride to an end soon, very soon as his left hand pumped the flesh at the base along with his movements, faster, harder, faster, and harder until a sudden cry filled the trailer’s air.
“Fuck, Jr.!”
The hand in his hair pulled tighter, as the salty fluid of Matt’s release filled his mouth, shooting down into his throat as he fought to swallow it all, not wasting a drop of this moment. The hand then loosened greatly, slipping from his hair altogether as Jr. delicately released Matt’s softening member from his mouth and tucked it back into the confines of the black silk boxers. His scalp hurt, his lips were swollen, but he had done was supposed to be done, and now, he was granted the right to get off his knees, but not first without pulling up Matt’s pants, refastening the button and zipping them up, returning the driver to the almost state in which he’d been in earlier.
“Jr.?” he began, his voice hoarse, causing him to clear his throat nervously. His eyes met Jr.’s as the Bud driver stood somewhat shakily, knees most likely sore. Kitchen tile wasn’t the greatest. “I guess I should say… thanks…”
He nodded gently, his hands playing with his pockets. “Call me sometime…”
“Yea…” Matt responded breathily, finally feeling as though he wouldn’t die. With a quick wave in his direction, the trailer was exposed to the parking lot for a brief three seconds as Jr. opened the door and let himself out. With his still slightly stinging hand, he pulled open the refrigerator to pull out another Smirnoff.
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Going Down After Dover