This is short, silly, poorly written, and pointless. But if I try to write anything with any substance, it's gonna be all serious and angsty, and that's not what Slash Hack is all about. Slash Hack is about bringing the good folks here at ff-dot-net every slash pairing that looks plausible, but has no fics. Every pairing needs at least a one-off, and I'm here to give 'em. Hell yeah.

Plus, this scene was just so damned inexplicably HOT. I have no idea why…

Mmm, America…

Jean had never expected to like the man, had never expected to respect him, and had been absolutely floored when he found himself attracted to him. He was an ill educated, slow, stubborn, temperamental American. Still, he was also a guileless, surprisingly sensitive, and unexpectedly charming man. And somehow, puzzlingly, he was damn hot. And now they were face to face- so close that he could feel the heat radiating from the other man- and he could think of nothing to say. He wanted to simply grab him and kiss him, but that would never do. Stupid Americans seem terrified of such personal contact. After a moment's deliberation, he extended a hand toward Ricky. "By defeating me today, you have set me free. And for that, I thank you."

Ricky looked at his hand, paused, and pushed it away. "I will never shake your hand." Jean flinched. "Ever."

So this was to be it. Defeat hadn't hurt- it had been what he wanted. But this rejection did hurt. He stared at the ground, sulking.

"But I will give you this…" And with that, Ricky Bobby kissed Jean Girard.

And kissed him.

And kissed him.

The stadium fell silent. Ten thousand trailers across the country fell silent. Across the South, the only sound was the wet thud of beers hitting the floor.

Hyper little boys with Kool-Aid moustaches and rattails gaped open-mouthed at their TVs.

Camera crews rushed to catch every angle of the most interesting thing that had ever happened in NASCAR.

Cal looked confused for a moment, then gave a bewildered grin and mumbled "Shake and Bake."

Lucy Bobby gasped and slapped hands over Walker and TR's eyes.

Reese Bobby gripped the fence, stood on tiptoe, and twisted his neck out of joint trying to see what in the hell could possibly cause such a dramatic reaction. (He would find out on the 11 o'clock news later that night.)

Several seconds later Ricky released Jean and stepped back. Jean blinked, ran his tongue over his teeth, trying to process what had just happened. "Sir," he said, meeting Ricky's eyes, "You taste of America."

Ricky nodded. "Thanks." Jean slung an arm around his shoulders as they waved to a now cheering crowd.

Hmm. It couldn't hurt to try…? Jean leaned in for another kiss.

"Noooo" Ricky whined, pushing him away. "Once was good."

"Once was good." Jean echoed.

"Once was good, but twice would be better, KPLZTHNX! OMG that was HOTT" a fangirl screamed from the audience.

Ricky looked at Jean. Once had been good, actually. He grinned. "Well, I'm game…"

A/N :

Well, it is what it is. Yes, I'm stereotyping NASCAR fans. So sue me. I lived six-and-one-half miles from Charlotte Motor Speedway for more than ten years, and I have worked at races. I'm allowed to stereotype.

There is definite slash potential here, ne? But I'm just screwing around with it, because I wanna have the first Ricky Bobby/Jean Girard on the internet. I think I've succeeded… y'know, apart from the bitter debates some people are throwing around over a bit of random silliness in a light comedy… geez, people. Oh, and there's the "that was hot" faction, who pretty much thought the kiss was hot.

I'm with the "that was hot" faction.