Aurora’s Splendor

Home : Stories by Catw00man : Aurora’s Splendor

Summary: Sometimes you have to let go.

AUTHOR: Catw00man
EMAIL: catw00man@cryptoffic.com
RATING: NC-17
CHARACTER: Dale Earnhardt Jr/Kevin Harvick, alternating POV
PROMPT: Taming the Muse #144 (#119 for me) - Sunrise
COMPLETED: April 22, 2009
WORD COUNT: 2,665
DISCLAIMER: I own NOTHING and am affiliated with NO ONE mentioned here. Not the drivers, not the teams, no one. This is all fiction and fun. In other words...NOT REAL, NOT REAL, NOT REAL. ;-)
DEDICATION: To Liz on her birthday. I actually got it done! I hope this is what you had in mind sweetie. :-D
AUTHOR'S NOTE: This is what you could call an AU of my favorite little muses. I hope you enjoy them as much as I do. You could say this is in the same universe as Ephemeral Perfection and you can find more here.
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Dirty Mo’ Acres – Mooresville, NC – April 19, 2009

“Where the hell have you been?”

He pushes up from his place on my porch swing and even in the dark I can see tension radiates through every inch of his body.  His hands clench and unclench at his sides and there’s no mistaking the rage in his eyes.  He’s been holding it in all night and I know he needs to let it go.  That’s why I don’t say a word as I turn for the shop instead of heading inside.

“I’ve been waiting here half the night.  You’d think you could have a little more consideration.  What the hell took you so long?”

His words swirl around me like lightenin’ bugs on a summer night, but they don’t touch me because I know he doesn’t mean them.  His truck was still warm when I pulled up so he didn’t beat me here by much.  Besides, he knows the only reason he beat me here was because of my post race chat with NASCAR over his new shit of a teammate.  He just needs to vent and he knows I’ll let him.

“You’re gonna end up on probation you keep that shit up.  Believe me.  I know.  Parked once remember?”

I’m really not sure how he keeps this all inside.  He never used to and there are dozens of videos on YouTube out there to back it up.  But somehow he’s figured out a way to bottle it all up 99% of the time by making a not so subtle dig or sarcastic comment.  Most people think being a car owner has mellowed him.  But I know better.  Havoc is still in there screaming to get out.

“Think you could take a little longer getting that door open, Pookie?  I haven’t waited enough tonight.  Maybe I should--.”

His words cut off the instant I get the shop door open and he’s halfway across the floor before I can even get the lights on.  I’d like to make him stop and glove him up first, but there’s no way he’ll go for it tonight.  Bruised and split knuckles are what he’ll end up with, but that’s so much better than the alternative.  I don’t know why we didn’t think of this a long time ago.

“Fucking. Piece. Of shit. Cars. Stupid. Fucking. Cars. Not. Even. PHOENIX!”

Each word is followed by a punch that sends the bag flying until I move behind the bag to steady it for him.  Carl had no idea what he was getting into when he tried to take down Kev.  He may seem “little.”  He may seem like he’s all talk, especially now since he’s tried to reign this side in.  Carl might not remember how he used to be, though if he’d ever bothered to ask Biffle he might’ve had a clue.  I didn’t even have to see the pictures to know what happened.  And now I can see it on Carl’s face every time he looks at Kevin.

He’s seen Havoc.  And he won’t fuck with him again. 

But that’s only one side of him.

“Why the FUCK won’t RC listen?  What the hell is Todd’s problem?  They need to get their heads out of their asses and FIX this!”

He tears his shirt off then punches the bag with a vengeance again, his words coming less and less as his breathing gets heavier until it’s nothing but a random curse between punches.  I bet Carl thinks he’s a little nuts.  I’m sure plenty of people do, especially those who’ve seen this side of him.  But those of us who love him understand this isn’t who he really is.  Richard, Todd, even DeLana know he doesn’t mean half the shit he says when he gets like this.  That’s why none of us listen to it.  That’s why he’s here.  With me.

Rock back from a particularly hard punch then lean to look around the bag at him.  His eyes are locked on the bag, focused on some unknown demon he has to beat down, and there’s no sign of quit in him.  His entire upper body is covered in a sheen of sweat and the sight stirs things deep inside me I force down.  His breathing is heavy but even and I know he’ll be at this until he’s too weak to make another swing.  Only then can he let this go.

I asked him once why he never set up a place like this out in Kernersville, but he told me it wouldn’t be the same.  Somehow that doesn’t surprise me.  He could have let himself in here.  But just like he always does he waits for me as if I’m the only one who holds the key, and in a way…maybe I am.

~*~*~

Slam my fists into the bag again and again.  It’s not enough.  Not yet.  Things shouldn’t be this way.  Not now.  Not with me.  I shouldn’t be racing hard with Max Papis and Joe Need-a-Check for position.  It’s shit.  It’s crap.  And it’s NOT me!

Slam, slam, slam, the rhythm pulses through me and I hold it as long as I can, then a little longer.  My arms burn.  My fists ache and I should’ve asked him to lace me up.  But I don’t care cause it’s wrong.  It’s all wrong. 

Pound the bag until my hand slips and barely connects.  Try to get my rhythm back but once it’s broken I feel the aching muscles in my back, my shoulders, and my arms.  How the hell long have I been going at this?  Hit the bag hard once more and a sharp, throbbing ache runs all the way up my arm.  Try to swing with my other arm but I can hardly manage to connect.  It’s done.  I’m done and I can feel all that pent up rage draining to the floor as I finally let my arms hang at my sides and try to catch my breath.

“You done?”

Raise my head at his voice and meet steel blue eyes boring straight into me.  He hasn’t said a word since he got here, just let me take it all out on him the way he has so many times before.   Thankfully he introduced me to his punching bag which has saved us both a lot of bruises.  But it’s not over yet.  I can see it in his eyes and I know what he needs.  I know what my fucked up loser of a teammate did to him.  I know he’s in the same place I am.  And now it’s his turn.

“Yeah.  I’m done.”

The words are barely out of my mouth before he grabs me roughly and pushes me backwards.  Somehow I get turned around and barely get my hands up to keep from plowing headlong into the corner of the ring.  His hands are at my jeans, tearing them and my boxers down and I bow my head, hands curling around the ropes to brace myself because I know what’s coming.  I let out my rage.  Now it’s his turn to let out his.

Cry out involuntarily when he suddenly slams inside and sharp pain shoots through me, mingling with the throbbing aches in my arms and shoulders.  But just as it always does that pain blends right into pleasure that has me crying out for different reasons. 

His hand’s on the back of my neck and the next thing I know my face is pinned against the mat as he bends me over the side of the ring.  I hear his low grunts as he pumps into me and I do nothing to fight him, not that I could.  I can barely lift my arms.  But it’s not a fight he’s needing now.  It’s control.  And I’m more than happy to let him have it.

He’s like me in more ways than I ever dreamed, but I doubt many see it.  I’m the loud and brash one and he’s the quiet redneck with his unrelenting honestly.  But deep inside we both have our demons.  It just so happens we can beat them down together.  Grit my teeth as he nails me to the ring even harder and it’s a damn good thing he let me wear myself out first cause every instinct I have is to fight him back.  But I don’t and I won’t.  He needs this every bit as much as I needed to scream and beat his punching bag into the ground.

Curl my fingers against the mat as his thrusts get quicker, sharper.  Deep seeded desire burns through me but that’s not what this is about.  This isn’t like the other times we’re together.  This isn’t about need or passion or lust.  There’s no tenderness in his touch.  This is about domination, and apparently dominating me gives him what he needs.

He lets out a low cry and only then does his death grip on the back of my neck start to relax.  He pulls back slow, his hand sliding down my back and it feels like every muscle in my body aches as his hand skims over my hip.  Feel his hands on my sides and I’m hardly more than a limp doll as he turns me over and lifts me up.  He slides me further under the bottom rope until my knees hit the edge of the ring and I don’t even raise my head…until I feel his hot mouth wrapped around me.

~*~*~

Eyes the color of jade lock with mine and I wonder if he really knows what he does for me.  There is nothing in this world more untamable than Havoc when he’s unleashed and to dominate him even for a little while…does more than just boost my ego.  It helps me remember exactly who I am.  I’m not a loser.  I’m not the “worst driver” in the Hendrick stable.  I’m so much more than that because nothing less could ever tame him.  I’m a winner.  Just like he is.  And he never lets me forget it.

Take his semi hard cock down my throat and before I can bob my head over him more than a few times he’s already growing hard.  Keep my eyes locked on him as I slide my hands forward on the mat to take his wrists in my hands.  Keep him pinned down as I work him over and I can see the flash in his eyes.  He’s not a submissive.  But he’s anything for me.

Suck him harder, taking my time because I know the longer I take the more it winds him up.  But he’s at my mercy now, all hot and sweaty and sprawled out on the mat.  He’s mine and I’m not ready to let him up yet.  Bob my head over him as he finally breaks eye contact to throw his head back and it’s all because of me.  Even in the stare down contest I’m a winner.  Keep his wrists pinned when he arches up into my touch and hold him down as I seek my final reward, his scream and hot essence sliding down my throat.

And now that I have it I have all I need.

All the insecurities, all the frustration and anger melt away as I swallow him down and relax my grip on his wrists.  Slide my hands slowly up his arms and I can hear his ragged breath as I softly kiss over his stomach.  Nuzzle my cheek against his skin and close my eyes when I feel his hand tangle in my hair.  I know this wasn’t all that fulfilling for him.  Hell, it wasn’t so much fulfilling for me as it was a release.  But he gets that.  And that means the good stuff gets to come later.

Run my hands down to his hip and tug him towards me until he slides into my arms.  Steady him as he finds his footing and leans heavy on me as I tug up his jeans.  Wrap my arm around his waist and without a word we slowly make our way towards the house leaving behind all the rage and frustrations that brought us here.  This is where we let things go.  Home is where we hold on tight.

He stumbles slightly as the house comes into view but I tighten my grip on him. I’ve never known anyone like him.  Everything he does he pours himself into completely, even his rage.  I can’t imagine what he’d be like if he wasn’t able to let go like this.  Or maybe I do.  Maybe that was the out of control “wild man” we all used to know.  But still, even then, I don’t think he really let himself go.  Not like he does with me.

Reach the back of the house and slowly make our way up the winding, wrought iron staircase, him leaning heavily against me the whole way.  After a night like tonight there’s only one place we want to be and this is the most direct way to get there.  Reach the balcony outside our bedroom and I unlock the door as he slumps on the over sized lounge chair and I can’t help but smile.  I doubt he’ll move an inch before I get back.

~*~*~

Watch him slip inside and a slow smile curls over my lips.  Funny, how Phoenix suddenly seems like it happened ages ago.  Sure we both still have to deal with it, but it won’t be the same.  Not now.  Now we’ll be able to handle it.  Now it’ll all somehow make sense. 

The door slides open a few minutes later and just like I knew he would he’s got a pair of longnecks and an armload of blankets.  I take the beers and set them to the side as he unfurls the blankets on top of me.  Shimmy out of my jeans and boxers and toss them to the side of the chair along with my shoes and socks.  The next thing I know it he’s sliding down next to me, the warm feel of his skin against mine the perfect balm for my aching body.  He wraps an arm around me and I reach to the side for our beers before curling up against him.

I can’t remember the first time we shared a sunrise out here but I know it wasn’t anything like this.  I’m pretty sure we’d been fighting.  I know we had to be hung over drunk.  He’d most likely just finished fucking me over the rail when we finally settled down here.  But that was all before we found out who we truly were and what we really had.  Now this is our place.  Our time.  And I’ve never known anything more right.

Accept the opened beer he offers me and take a sip before turning to kiss his neck softly.  He tightens his arm around me and that motion alone tells me more than he could with words.  It’s in the tenderness of his touch as he runs his thumb in small circles at my shoulder.  It’s in the way his body melts against mine as I curl alongside him.  It’s in the soft sigh he makes as my lips brush his neck again and the look in his eyes as he turns his head to look at me.

Gaze into blue eyes filled with warmth and I know I’m where I belong.  Lean closer to capture his lips with mine and the sweet taste of him lets me know I’m home.  I’ll have to be at Rockingham early, but none of that matters now.  Ricky, the ARCA race, just like Phoenix it feels so far away.  All that matters right now is us, and as the sun slowly rises over the trees I curl a little closer to him.

“My Kitty…” he murmurs softly as he rubs the back of my neck and I rest my head against his shoulder.

“Always, Adonis.  Always.”

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Catw00man - catw00man@cryptoffic.com