Talladega Nights: A Kiss on Victory Lane [Carson Hocevar]
A/N: A quick little one shot to celebrate Carson's first win and my first time writing one shots like this in literal YEARS and since I rarely see any x male!reader one shots, I thought why don't I indulge a bit.
divider by: @pixopix
[Carson Hocevar x Male!NASCAR Driver Reader]
Word Count: 1286
Talladega took no prisoners.
Your own car got caught up in the Big One on lap 115 and even though you somehow managed to limp back to pit lane, there was absolutely no way for you to continue racing. Your crew chief took one look at the concept of a race car that your car had become and told you too get out and go get checked. It sucked, but shit like this happened.
At least nobody was hurt beyond a bruised ego.
So that's how you ended up in your RV, water bottle in hand, watching the rest of the race as you relaxed on the couch. You told your crew chief that you would talk after everything finished. If you talked now, the most productive part of the conversation would be making up new slurs for Kyle Larson. Plus, there was nothing to discuss. You were running mid-filed one moment and then the next, you were looking at the wall from the grass. It is what it is. You were sure they were arguing over who's fault it was in the marshal's room but that was not a conversation that you wanted any part of.
You wished to be racing still.. Talladega was one of your favorite tracks. Hell, any super speedway could be your favorite, but Talladega held so many memories for you. It was the first ever NASCAR race you attended as a child. It was the first race you won when you raced in O'Riley.
It is what it is though.
You couldn't be mad. Especially because, currently, your boyfriend was leading the race.
You should be getting changed - like you were doing before getting too invested in the race - or at least taking a shower before going to do your media duties, but you were glued to the couch, eyes trained on the TV as you watched Carson and Buescher exchange positions every lap. You tied not to get too excited, remembering how Daytona fucked him over in the last lap. Yet, you couldn't help the excitement from bubbling up.
As the laps ticked down, you watched with growing anticipation as it became more and more evident that Carson had a definite shot at winning. You lowered your legs from the table, eyes still locked on the race. If he pulled this off, God, this would be wonderful for him. He had been snuffed time and time again, either by bad strategy calls, a slow pit stop or something completely out of his control. May this time he'd be the winner and show everyone that he wasn't just some kid who fucked around too much on iRacing and managed to get a Cup seat.
By the last lap, you were on the edge of the seat, foot bouncing up and down with the anxiety that was flooding your system despite the happiness for Carson that was also there. No matter what else was going on around you, you wouldn't be able to take your eyes away from the screen. Your heart was beating out of your chest. He was going to do it. 168 laps, one large wreck, a handful of minor crashes, and six cautions later, Carson Hocevar was going to win his first race. At Talladega of all places.
They turned the last corner of the tri-oval and your breath caught in your throat. He was going to do it. He was going to win. You couldn't help the shout of joy as Carson crossed the finish line, a car length in front of Buescher.
Nothing was stopping you from running to him at this point, not even the confused look from your manager as you accidentally bump into him as you run in the direction of victory lane. You didn't care how absolutely stupid you may have looked in the moment with your race suit tied around your waist and team polo on instead of your fire proofs, you were going to go kiss your man.
You could hear Spire's shouts for joy from the paddock. This was monumental. For them. For Carson. So much work had gone into this. You knew it from the countless nights Carson stayed up running a new sim set up or the nights where he had gotten up in the middle of the night to review a new bit of data in a slightly different perspective. This was three long and hard years of planning and discipline for Carson and you couldn't be prouder of him.
You wanted to run to him as he somehow managed to do that incredible stunt down the straightaway. Only your boyfriend would think of something so charming - though you assumed he would be getting a hefty fine tomorrow. Instead, you ended up running into him as the car was pushed into victory lane. He smelled of burnt rubber and sweat and as you hugged, you were surprised at the comfort that that smell had.
You looked up at him, placing your hands on his cheeks, forcing him to look at your with his beautiful baby blue eyes that were red with tears.
"You did it baby!" You wren't sure if he could hear you over the sound of the crowd and the general chaos of this celebration. "I'm so proud of you!"
His hands were on your waist as he pulled you into a tight hug once again.
"I did it," he whispered in your ear. A confession, coated in tears only for you to hear. "Holy fuck I did it."
You thread one of your hands through his hair, using the other to take off that stupidly cute cowboy hat he loved to wear after the races. The whole world faded away at that moment. In the chaos of victory lane, for at least a moment in time, it was just you two. He rested his forehead against your shoulder and you didn't need to see his face to know there was still a smile on his face.
This was a position the two of you often found yourself in. Carson was always physically affectionate the second you two were alone, so it was odd to have this affection where everyone could see you. There were cameras trained on Carson from basically every angle, and yet he still relaxed into your arms.
"You did so good babe." You briefly kissed the shell of his ear, something so brief that it could be mistaken for just a private conversation. Nobody knew about you two. Neither you or Carson wanted to deal with the potential issues that came with being gay in NASCAR, though you were incredibly sure that at least now, it might be somewhat okay for you two to be gay on the grid.
He pulled back from the hug, nodding at you before pulling you close by your waist. You cocked your head at him, a silent question between you two as you wrapped your arms around his neck. This pose was undeniably romantic and before you could warn Carson about the photographer focused on you two, he pulled you into a passionate kiss.
It was an unconventional way to come out, but it was also perfectly Carson and that's all that mattered to you.
[a photo of you and Carson, passionately kissing in victory lane with the setting sun behind you]
@yournameracescars: be gay. drive cars. happy for you my Dega winner 🩵🏳️🌈
↳ @carsonhocevar: couldn't have done it without you my dude love you 🫶🩵
↳ @yournameracescars: you did not just "my dude" me after making out with me 💀
I hope you all enjoyed!! Requests are open if you want more of these :3