I really don't get why so many people like Dean more when he's an asshole but alright I'll give you asshole Dean but I can't keep him that way for long.

I was asked if I could a Dean/Arandi story with a racing backdrop. I don't know much about racing but I decided to write it this way instead of getting my head ripped off by NASCAR fanatics. Lol.

WARNING: Sexual content and bad language.

FASTER

FINISH LINE

Dean Winchester put on his cockiest smile as he posed for the cameras holding up his latest trophy. Hundreds of flashes went off but he kept his shades firmly in place, learning long ago if you're a champion and you don't want to go blind you better protect your eyes in the winner's circle.

The beautiful brunette that had handed him the trophy stood close by him getting herself into every shot and Dean didn't say a word because she presently had a nice firm grip on one of his ass cheeks. A telling sign that he would be getting a piece of ass later.

Well hello maybe two now that the blonde stepped up on his other side to put the wreath of roses and hundred dollar bills around his neck.

"How do you feel to have the most wins of any racer ever?" Someone yelled.

"Like a champion." Dean shouted and the flashes went off again.

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Dean lay back on the motel bed waiting for the two women to stop bickering. They had blown him stupid now they were arguing on who would be the first to get fucked.

Apparently they thought he was some kind of sex machine and didn't realize that he needed time to recuperate.

"Dean please tell this blonde bimbo that I'm first." The brunette purred sweetly.

Dean yawned sleepily. "Look Brandy why don't we get some sleep and then…." Oh hell he had said the wrong thing because the brunette was livid and the blonde was laughing.

"My name is Brenda." She hissed.

"Well I guess since he doesn't even remember your name, he's mine."

"What makes you think that he remembers yours?" Brenda asked.

Dean was amused to have two beautiful naked women acting this way even though it was far from the first time. It was amazing how some women acted around famous men. The dollar signs in their eyes.

They both turned to look at him. They really expected him to remember names when he had so many other things on his mind. Like two days from now he had to qualify for the Western.

"Marissa?" He ventured.

"You're a fucking asshole." The blonde yelled jumping off the bed and grabbed her clothes. "My names is Nicole!"

"At least he got the right letter with me." Brenda huffed.

Dean didn't really give two shits what her name was or anything else about her. "Don't go acting like I hurt your feelings or anything. You act like sluts you're going to get treated like sluts."

Both women looked completely taken aback.

"You know the way out. Don't make me call security." He growled rolling onto his stomach when he heard the door slam.

He had gotten his rocks off and that was all that mattered to him.

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Dean ran his hand over his sleek black racing car and felt the thrill vibrate through his stomach.

Even after all these years the adrenaline rush of driving fast still made him giddy. He didn't think that he would ever get tired of the feeling.

He loved the speed, loved the freedom, the fame, the money. Women threw themselves at him everywhere he went so he had all the sex a man could need.

"I swear one of these days I'm going to catch you fucking that car." Misha, Dean's manager, said behind him.

"She'd probably be the best lay of my life." Dean replied thinking of the little red head he'd had bent over earlier and he'd felt like he should have taken her pulse for all the effort that she put into it.

"You can't tell me every woman you bed is that bad." Misha chuckled as he opened to hood of the car.

"Man all they have on their minds is how to become my girlfriend and start spending my money. They honestly think that I'm going to fall for them when they fall into my bed three minutes after I meet them."

"Was he fondling the car again?" Sam laughed as he walked in with Zane, Tom, Garth, Mitch, Colt, and Clint. Dean's entire team.

"Shut up little brother, don't be jealous that I get more ass in one week than you do all year." Dean smirked.

Sam wrinkled his nose. "That's because I kind of like my dick fine where it is. I'm surprised you don't have a bunch of little Dean's running all over the world."

"I know how to take care of myself Sammy. I never trust a condom that I don't buy myself. I know how desperate some bitches can be."

"The qualifying race is in thirty minutes so suit up dude. I know how you like to look all GQ fresh." Misha grinned.

Dean began to walk away.

"So has anyone heard anything about the new driver that just got into the circuit?" Tom asked.

Dean spun on his heel. "New driver?" He had pretty much been racing against the same bunch for over a year. The only one that came close to beating Dean was Hansen Jonas and he had had to settle for second time after time.

"Yeah just barely got in under Brady since he still isn't a hundred percent."

"Has he won anything that I'm not in?"

"I just heard about him today but I'll do my research later."

Dean smirked. "I'll put the fear of God in him. What's his name?"

"Randy Remington or something like that." Tom answered.

"Are you serious? Is he trying to mock me with the last name like a gun?"

"Real name as far as I know."

"Is there a Smith and Wesson out there too?" Dean growled as he headed to suit up.

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Dean grinned as he pulled his car onto the track and the crowd went crazy. He loved the attention.

His grin faded as he watched the new racer glide into his slot two cars away.

The fucker had taste with his beauty of an Aston Martin just like Dean's except his was silver and Dean's was black.

Dean had gotten into sports car racing after trying his time with NASCAR. He had won a couple of races but they had way too many rules and the sponsors could drive you crazy.

He preferred this, preferred the purr of a sports car and the changing tracks or just out and out street racing in some places. He made his money racing, he didn't have to count on fancy sponsors at every turn and broadcast all over his cars.

The other racer turned to look at him, his face already hidden by the helmet and Dean glared and gave a slight nod that was returned just as curtly.

Dean slipped his helmet on. "Key the music Sasquatch." He said into his headset. They really weren't supposed to play music when they raced but Dean felt completely in the zone when he listened to music.

He heard the rock music start and it thrummed through him as he flexed his hands on the wheel.

"Good luck, Dean." Sam replied.

"When have I ever needed luck?" Dean asked.

"Just saying bro."

"Yeah, yeah, see you in the winner's circle like always."

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Dean was at the top of his game like always and was far ahead of all the rest in minutes.

"Dean that Remington dude is like right on your ass speed for speed." Sam said.

"He has to get past me first now doesn't he?" Dean snickered.

He kept his car in a perfect position to move to either side if the other car tried to pass him.

The other racer came up on him on his left and Dean began to drift that way.

The other car suddenly and beautifully pulled right and shot past him.

"Hell the fuck no!" Dean growled. He wasn't going to get beat especially by some fucking newbie.

He shifted gears and floored it. His only chance to get his lead back was to take the next curve at full speed.

"Dean…."

"Shut up Sam." Dean growled as he shifted again. He cut in through on the inside so close to the wall he could reach out and touch it.

He hit the straight away and shifted again and floored it, hitting the finish half a car ahead of the other racer.

He hadn't had to fight for a finish like that in a long time. He appreciated the challenge but just 'hell the fuck no.'

He needed to meet this racer and let him know that Dean Winchester was not that easy to beat.

His team was already heading to him as he came to a stop and began to climb out of the car.

The other racer was doing the same as his team headed to him.

Dean stood ready to give the cockiest smile and the fakest 'good race pal better luck next time' firm handshake and fuck you very much.

He wasn't prepared at all for the sight that met him as the helmet came off and the driver shook out long black wavy hair and the bluest eyes he had ever seen stared back at him.

He was agape, cocky smile gone and hell the fuck no.

TBC

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Thanks for reading!