Chapter Text
the sun rises slowly, coating the perfectly puffy clouds in delectable shades of purples, pinks, and oranges before its bright morning rays tickle the tops of the cozy cone. the light filters through the gauzy curtains, dancing around the ceiling before bouncing off lightning’s nose.
doc rises fast, the sunlight kissing his lover’s hood having bounced directly into his tired eyes. he was been up far later than the older model usually preferred, but he’s never minded compromising his routine for the young racer. moving slowly so as not to wake the warm car next to him, doc delicately lifts and stretches his front axle. he’s just getting a good stretch when his bed lets out a too-loud, embarrassing creak. cursing the mechanic who put him back together to high heavens, doc tries to return the tire to the double-garage floor without waking lightning.
lightning rises faster, eyes opening in a flash. everything about the youthful car has always been speedy, and his morning routine is no exception. rapidly blinking the sleep away, he looks fondly at the older car next to him, and offers a bleary grin.
defeated, doc lets his wheel hit the tile with a soft thud and tries to conceal the blush creeping across his dashing paint job. lightning catches it anyways, quick as he is, and the red car nuzzles into doc, just below his side mirror. “s’nothin to be ashamed about, huds,” he murmurs, voice still hoarse from sleep. before doc can offer back a biting remark in return, mcqueen begins a morning stretch routine of his own. his axles let loose an unsightly series of creaks and groans, but mcqueen looks as unbothered as ever. “All good racers are a bit stiff in the mornings, huds, just shows you’ve worked hard.”
eyes blown wide, doc takes a moment to absorb every detail of his kind, good, oh-so-thoughtful lover’s face, from the recently polished headlights to the minuscule, just-barely-visible scratch in front of his right wiper. finally, he sighs, releasing the tension that had settled in his cab, and he allows himself to stretch, ignoring the small voice that asks him to stop embarrassing himself, stop showing weakness, stop baring the deepest parts of himself to a car he’s barely known for an entire circuit. but doc hudson knows better than his insecurities, and he’s sure as oil that the car grinning at him, the car who took him to the honeymoon suite of the cozy cone for valencar’s day isn’t going anywhere anytime soon.
well, maybe doc’s mistaken. as soon as his last tire touches the garage floor, lightning leaves the side he was nuzzling and zips around the room before tapping the “open door” button. he speeds around the cone, and for a moment, doc is sure he’s dreamt up this whole affair, but then the racer is back in view and planting a firm kiss on the older car’s lips. he instinctively moves to return the kiss, but lightning is already pulling away, yelling “race ya hudsy!” as he drives away. but it’s slower than doc knows the youthful car can reverse, and he’s almost caught up to the racer when mcqueen stops. doc follows, and lightning leans towards the blue car, nipping his bumper before scooting back before hudson can ask for more.
in a sultry, teasing voice, mcqueen offers a final glimpse of hope before turning and zooming away.
“there’s more where that came from if you can beat me.”
doc offers nothing in response but a wide smirk and a revving engine. in a flash, he’s off, chasing lightning’s dust without a care in the world.