Cold Comfort

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Summary: Rusty is tired of being hounded by the press over losing the Daytona 500. Can he find someone who understands in a rival?

AUTHOR: Catw00man
EMAIL: catw00man@cryptoffic.com
RATING: NC-17
PAIRING: Jeff Gordon/Rusty Wallace, Rusty POV
CATEGORY: Angst/Romance
COMPLETED: July 9, 2004
WORD COUNT: 4,078
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. ;-)
AUTHOR'S NOTE: This is my FIRST FIRST ever fanfic of any sort, so please be gentle. I came up with this idea after reading a Rusty/Jeff challenge on the BFC site. I don’t know why this plot bunny attacked me, I think Jeffy should be with Jimmie or Dale Jr, but hey you can’t argue with the muse. I have no idea why this is Rusty’s POV, he just wanted to tell this story so who am I to stand in his way! Any feedback would be welcome so I know if I’ve totally lost it. I still don’t know why this went NC-17. maybe I have lost my mind. ;-)
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After the Daytona 500: February 20th, 2000

“When are you gonna win the Daytona 500 Rusty? This makes 18 starts and no win Rusty, will you beat Earnhardt’s 20 winless starts? When will you break the restrictor plate curse Rusty?”

Didn’t someone once say talking to yourself is a sign of madness? Well, I guess I’m going around the bend chased by blood thirsty reporters. What do they want from me? I just had my best ever finish in this damn race! If I can just get to my coach before I run into more of these vultures.

“How long until you win again Rusty?” At this point I just can’t help it. “When will you.”

“Rusty?”

Oh crap, who was that.

I turn to see who else, but Wonderboy himself coming out of his motor home. Please tell me he didn’t hear me talking to myself. That’s all I need from the pretty boy.

“Rusty, were you talking to yourself?”

Great, just great. Now the kid is going to think I’m going senile. As long as he doesn’t tell the vultures. That would just fuel up the retirement rumors. Maybe I can just blow him off.

“Don’t worry about it Gordon. It doesn’t concern you.” I turn to keep moving when I see two more reporters further down blocking my path. “Crap,” I can’t help but curse. “Damn blood sucking vultures,” I mutter under my breath. Now what? Maybe I can go around the other way.

“Hey Rusty, seriously you’re looking stressed, man, are you ok?”

Is he still here? I sigh and turn back to the Rainbow Warrior, who’s already nice and cleaned up. How did he--oh that’s right, he lost an oil line on lap 34. I can’t help but grin, even Golden Boy has bad luck. Maybe those reporters should mess with him instead of me.

Jeff seems to see something over my shoulder and grabs my arm. “Hey man, you want to duck inside and dodge those reporters?” He nods in the direction of the two reporters I saw earlier that are now, shit, coming this way. Jeff gives my arm another tug and I realize he must be trying to hide from them too. I shrug my arm way from him, nod and follow Gordon into his coachman.

I can’t help but look around with approval as I climb up into the motor home. Big screen TV, leather couches along the wall, all very nice. Surprise, surprise the boy has taste. Who would have thought?

As I look around I realize the place seems empty and have to ask, “So where’s the beauty queen?”

Jeff turns to me and looks up sharply and says, “Brooke,” he stresses, “decided not to come up for Speedweeks this year. Something about taking care of the new house,” he mutters. “But, that’s actually good news for you,” he says looking back at me.

I guess the confusion is written on my face when he cracks a smile and points to the kitchen with his thumb and says, “There’s beer in the fridge. Want one?”

I nod and follow the boy into the kitchen and see him pull out, what else, but two Miller Lites. “I guess this is ok?” he says as he passes me a beer. I nod again as I take the beer and watch him as he opens his and takes a long drink. I can’t help but wonder what that’s about. I didn’t even know he drank.

“So I guess you’re hiding from the press too, huh?” he asks me. I just look at him and he continues, “I caught some of your interview after the race when I got back. It looked like the blood suckers were giving you hell.”

I can’t help but smile as he uses one of my favorite terms for the vultures. “Yeah, I suppose you were on the short end of it too?” I reply as I open and sip my beer.

“Pretty much,” he shrugs, and takes another long drink. “First season without Ray, not the opening weekend I was looking for with a special paint scheme and all.”

That’s right I think, the boy’s lost his crew chief. Poor little Wonderboy lost in the storm. As if he knows what it’s really like to be hounded. All this kid has to do is smile, win a few, and all is right in his world.

“It’s just one race,” I say. “Not that big a deal.”

Jeff shrugs again as he knocks back the rest of his beer. He turns to the fridge and grabs two more passing one to me. I’m a little surprised at how fast he downed his beer as I finish off mine and accept the drink.

“I don’t think you’ve been seeing the same press as me then, Rusty. Some people seem to think I owe everything to Ray and am not crap without him,” he says as he opens his next beer and walks toward the living room.

I follow him and have to snort at his ridiculous statement. “You can’t be taking all that seriously, Jeff,” I reply to him. “I mean, we all know, for what it’s worth, you know how to handle a race car. You don’t win a championship without being able to drive. I should know.”

Did I really just compliment the kid? I did just drink only one beer right?

Jeff seems as surprised as I am by what I say as he flops down on the couch. “You really think so?” he says.

“Please,” I say to him. “You’ve given me a run for my money too many times for me not to know. Who on earth is putting this in your head?”

Jeff just shrugs again and takes another swig of beer. “So,” he says. “How do you deal with it all?”

“The media?” I ask. “I think you just saw how I deal. By talking to myself and hiding with the likes of you,” I say as I smile.

Jeff smiles back and laughs. “I knew I heard you talking to yourself! It must be a real pain since Earnhardt finally won the 500 huh?”

“You have no idea,” I reply. “Up until then he always caught all the flack. Now it’s ‘Rusty when will you win the 500, when will you win a plate race, when will you break the losing streak,’ you get the idea.”

Jeff smiles again as he motions toward the kitchen. I nod as he gets up to fetch a couple more beers. As he returns with them he tells me, “Well, feel free to hide out here anytime.”

“You keep Miller Lite in the fridge I just might,” I say as I laugh. “My coach is empty tonight too. Patty had to do some things with the kids. You know how that goes,” I say as I see Jeff glance away. Well maybe he wouldn’t know. I can’t help but wonder why he and Brooke haven’t had kids of their own yet.

“Well I have to admit, you’re better company than I expected,” I say still surprised I’m sharing beers with the Rainbow Warrior.

“Hey no problem man,” he says to me. “It seems we’re in the same boat right now.”

I can’t help but notice the strain in his eyes he’s trying to hide. Funny I never noticed that until now. I guess the kid is under more pressure than I thought. Who would have known?

“I guess we are, as far as the media hounds are concerned. It really sucks when they try to put you out to pasture.” He hasn’t even begun to feel what that’s like I think. “So how’s the team gelling and all without Ray?”

Jeff sighs deeply and then puts on his professional smile and turns to me and says, “Really well actually. I think we’re going to be able to make a run at the championship again.”

“You’re a really shitty liar,” I tell him. “Don’t pull that sponsor ‘every things just peachy’ crap with me Jeff. I’ve been around too long to fall for it. You should know better,” I say as I get up to grab a few more beers. Were gonna be drunk before this is all over I think.

Those pain filled blue eyes meet mine as I hand him another beer and sit down again on the couch. “Go on, spill it,” I say.

“I honestly never thought he’d leave Rusty,” he says to me. “I thought we were a team, a team that would just go on and on. Pretty stupid really.” He says as he looks down to his beer and opens it.

“Not stupid, kid, just naïve,” I reply. “There’s no permanency in racing. Not with sponsors or owners or crew chiefs.”

“Or losing streaks,” Jeff says to me as he smiles.

“I guess you’re right at that. All streaks have to come to an end, even the bad ones,” I say as I raise my beer. Jeff raises his as well and joins me in the toast.

I hear him giggle as I drink my beer and look over at him to see him smiling. “What a pair we make,” I hear him say. “Two champions lamenting their stagnant careers, he says as he laughs.

I have to laugh too because with that crooked smile he looks like such a kid. “Not stagnant,” I reply. “Just a bad patch, which can’t last forever.”

I can’t believe Gordon of all people has been able to lift my mood. In all the years we’ve raced each other this is the first time we’ve ever really sat and talked. I guess Dale is right again, he’s not a bad kid. I can’t help but wonder if there is more bothering him. But, seriously, who am I to pry into his life? Instead I watch him as he crosses back to the kitchen once more for drinks.

Jeff comes back beers in hand and drops down onto the couch next to me and hands me the can. I can’t help but notice his weary expression as he turns to me and says, “You know it’s really nice to talk to someone who understands. You know, really gets it. The media freaks, the fans, the teams. You just seem to get it,” he says as he looks down at his hands.

“I should,” I say. “I’ve been around it all long enough. You aren’t the first driver to get booed you know.”

“Yeah?” he asks turning to me once again, and I realize I’m staring into his deep cerulean eyes. “Yeah,” I say quietly. “Anyone who’s ever been anybody goes through that.”

“Really?” he all but whispers to me. “You really do get it all,” he murmurs as he leans toward me and touches is lips to mine. I know we’re both a bit drunk and I can’t believe he’s kissing me. But, his lips are too soft to resist and I lean into him kissing him back. I feel his tongue against my lips and I open for him letting him explore my mouth. We stay there kissing for what seems like an eternity before he suddenly pulls away.

I sit back a bit and register the shocked look on his face as he begins stammering, “Oh shit, oh shit, Rusty, I’m sorry. I don’t know what I was thinking. Oh shit,” he curses as he turns away and starts to bolt.

I grab his arm as he stands and he turns surprised to look down on me. “Sit down Jeff,” I say calmly not releasing his wrist until he sits. The poor boy is all but shaking as he refuses to meet my eyes. “I-I don’t know. I don’t know what I was thinking,” he stammers at me.

I can’t help but smile as I tell him, “I do. You were looking for a bit of cold comfort.” He still refuses to look at me, and I take his chin between my thumb and finger and turn his head to look at me. “Just like me,” I say looking deeply into his eyes.

“Wha?” he starts to say as I shake my head for him to stop. “Like you said boy, we’re the same, needing someone to understand. Needing someone who’s been there, who ‘gets it,’” I say softly to him. “We need someone who understands and accepts our pain.”

At my last statement Jeff slowly nods to me. I lean into him again, pulling him toward me by running my hand from his chin around to the back of his neck. I press my lips to his and he eagerly responds kissing me back. As we kiss I begin to play with the soft hairs on his neck. I feel him moan softly into my mouth and pull me closer with a hand on my shoulder.

My free hand moves under his shirt to his waist and I lightly trace my fingers on his skin. I feel him begin to shiver as I run my finger tips up and down his side. I feel like I’m drowning as lets out another low moan, and nothing matters anymore. There is no one and nothing else in this moment, but two people seeking comfort.

Finally I pull back from him and look at his dark unfocused eyes. Again I have to smile as I put one finger under his chin turning those blue dazed orbs to mine. “So,” I say softly. “Where do we go from here kid?” because I’m not really sure. I don’t know how far he wants this to go because I’m sure this is new to him.

He surprises me by standing and reaching out a hand to me. His smile is tentative, like he’s not sure I’ll follow him. But, when I take his hand and stand beside him a flood of warmth runs through me as I see his smile. He gives my hand a little tug and I follow him down the short hall to his bedroom which is just as stylish as the rest of the place. Black sheets are on the bed, and I realize my breathing has increased in anticipation.

He pulls me over to the bed and turns around to face me with the back of his legs against the end of the bed. The shy crooked smile he gives me turns me on more than I could have ever expected, and I grab him with both hands on the sides of his face and kiss him more hungrily than before. He seems a bit stunned at first, but then returns my kiss with a burning hunger of his own. The thought runs through my mind of when the last time was he had a good screw, but that and all other thoughts leave my mind as he begins unzipping my firesuit and pushing it off my shoulders.

His hands are strong and firm as I feel them lifting my shirt and running up my back massaging my muscles. I run both of my hands down his sides and back under his shirt feeling him tremble again as I caress his sides. I pull away from him breaking the kiss only to remove his shirt, as he does the same for me.

We kiss again hungrily and I run one hand behind his neck. I run my fingers through his still shower damp hair and bring my other hand to his waist. His strong fingers are sill rubbing my back as I reach to undo his pants. I unhook and unzip them and slip my hand inside. I can’t help the surprised moan that escapes my lips as I come into contact with nothing but skin.

Jeff breaks the kiss and throws his head back with his eyes closed as I begin to caress him. I can’t help but realize in that moment that he really is beautiful, something I’ve never thought about another man before. I guess that magazine he was in was right I think as I lean forward to kiss his neck. I hear him moan low in his chest as I gently push him back onto the bed.

I smile at the smoldering look he gives me as I quickly take off his shoes, socks and pants leaving him wearing nothing but a smile. I can’t help but think Wonderboy indeed as I remove the rest of my clothes and climb over him. I reach down and caress us both in my hand throwing my head back at the shocks it sends through me. I stroke us both as long as I can stand it then roll over to his side looking down into his too blue eyes.

My eyes never leave his as I begin stroking him again. I then slip my hand down to cup his heavy sac and trace his tight opening with my finger. Jeff shudders under me and closes his eyes until I whisper, “No, I want to see you.”

His eyes slowly open and meet mine never wavering as I alternately stroke and touch him. I feel his breath quicken and his leg begin to tremble as my strokes become faster and harder and I hear him whisper, “Please. Please Rusty.”

A moan of my own escapes my lips hearing the breathy way he says my name and I know he’s with me and me alone. He cries out as he finally reaches his release and I realize he’s even more beautiful when he comes. I pull him towards me holding him as soft tremors of pleasure wrack his body. I don’t remember the last time I felt so wanted and understood. I feel like I could lay here holding this sweet boy in my arms all night.

He surprises me when he pulls away and looks down at me with an almost evil mischievous grin. I never realized how much I love that mouth of his. That crooked grin only grows and I can’t help but wonder what he is thinking. I start to ask, but he cuts me off saying, “No, it’s my turn now.” I can’t control the chills that run through me at the raw passion I hear I his voice.

Jeff leans down to me kissing my neck and chest and running those amazing hands over my body. I feel him begin to caress me and I don’t know how long I can last with those dark eyes pinning me down. That’s when I finally realize the reason for the sultry grin as he surprises me by taking me in his warm mouth, never breaking eye contact with me. I’ve never seen anything so erotic in my life and I know this will be over way too soon. He continues to gaze at me as he licks and sucks, and I know those eyes will be forever burned in my memory. Finally I can handle it no more and I cry out is name as my entire body shakes with pleasure.

Before I can even come down he’s kissing me again, and I can taste myself on him. This just drives me even more over the edge and I pull him tight as our kiss becomes less hungry and more of a caress. We kiss for a while until he finally pulls away from me and gazes down at me. I hear him whisper, “Thank you,” as he lies down beside me putting his head on my shoulder.

I wrap my arm around his waist and pull him closer and murmur, “Anytime kid, anytime” in his ear as I fall into a comfortable exhausted sleep next to him.

*****

After the Sharpie 500, Bristol TN: August 24th, 2002

Looking back you would have thought the next morning would have been strange and awkward. But it couldn’t have been more comfortable. I sat at his kitchen table and watched him as he made breakfast and then we just talked. We talked about women and racing, sponsors, fans, the media and the next race in Rockingham. We laughed and joked and I never felt more comfortable with anyone before. I think we both found kindred spirits that night, and it was in that morning that I knew I would always have someone to lean on.

Our lives did go pretty much back to normal, except we knew there was someone out there we could turn to, and we did. There were more nights of drinking and sex, but even more of just comforting and listening. From that night forward I saw a different side of that young champion I never knew was there. He’s deep and passionate, funny and sarcastic, and he’s always there for me. I can’t count the times that I’ve felt beat down and old that he, as he puts it, shows me how stupid I really am. He always makes me smile and gives me the strength to go on. I’m just glad I can do the same for him.

I remember a few months back when he really hit his all time low. I got the call at home from him, he was in New York and he needed me. I’m not even sure what excuse I came up with, but I was there as fast I could fly. That stupid bitch of a wife had left him after moving him down to Florida, away from all of us. I met him in an apartment he kept in New York and held him all night. I couldn’t believe the number she had done on him. He was even worse than that first night.

How could someone so bright and special let one person bring him down so much? I should have realized when I saw how hurt he was when he lost his crew chief. He just loves and cares too much. Sometimes it scares me to know I have that kind of hold of him too. But, I’ll never, ever hurt this kid who will give anything to make me smile. He knows me better than anyone in my life. He knows me, not the tough smart ass driver everyone else sees. He knows me.

I guess that’s why I’m not mad at him tonight. I think the reporters were pretty surprised when I sympathized with him beating us. I have to smile as I remember how that little shit followed me all the way through the field only to bump me with 2 to go. Boy is he lucky I didn’t catch back up with him.

But everyone has been a lot harder on him than me lately. “Gordon must be slipping, it’s been 31 races since he won,” they say. “How can people be so stupid,” I wonder aloud. I look up as I reach Jeff’s motor coach glad he’s not outside to hear me talking to myself again. He always loves to tease me about that.

I let myself in and climb inside the coach knowing the celebrations must be over by now. I know I’m right when I spot a small cooler of beer waiting for me on the table. The lights are off, but I can see the flickering of candle light down the hall. I know he’s waiting for me. I know he wants to make it up to me for beating me tonight. I’ll let him of course, even though he doesn’t need to. I’m here to celebrate with him, just like I know he’ll be with me to celebrate when I win again.

That’s right, not if, but when I win again. That is one thing Wonderboy has done is give me back my confidence. He doesn’t just encourage me, he makes me believe. To this day I can’t believe I thought our first time together was just about “cold comfort.” There is nothing cold about Jeff. He’s comfort and belonging and understanding. He “gets it,” and now lucky bastard that I am, I get him.

“So are you gonna brood in the kitchen all night or are you coming in here to pay me back?” I hear him call from down the hall.

“You better believe you’re gonna get more than a “little tap” from me,” I call as I grab the cooler and walk down the hall. How did I get so lucky I smile and wonder to myself again.

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Catw00man - catw00man@cryptoffic.com