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It had been a good day, Lightning thought. There had been a race at a kinda local track, but it was big enough to just pose a challenge, which was easily 90% of his motivation to sign up. Great racers with all kinds of vehicles to get them over the finish line in excellent time...but it had been Lightning's glittering red hybrid that had outshone them all. Had to be said, he'd pushed his sportscar to the limit. Driving on a burst tyre was a fool's move, as Doc had said on the journey back in the calm, stern way he spoke when Lightning had done something he didn't approve of. But with just a half-lap to go, Lightning's argument had been that it would have been way stupider not to take the chance. And then Doc had muttered about there being no such word as stupider and then they'd gotten home and Doc had gone back to his place.
Lightning paced in his motel room. There were plenty of places he could easily just rent, but he liked going out and seeing Sally first thing in the morning. She'd called him an idiot, too, for the move. He sat on the bed. Curled up on it. Sat back upright and then went to open his door, stopped by his cell vibrating in his pocket. Doc had messaged.
Young people thought they were immortal was the issue in Doc's eyes. And barely-21 Lightning was no different, in fact, he was worse than a lot of young people his age. So fixed on the road, so locked on to the sight of the checked flag, he hadn't noticed the swerving of his poor hybrid as she struggled with her newly missing tyre. Nor did Lightning smell the black smoke. Just the thrill of winning. It wouldn't be so bad if Lightning had just admitted he'd been dumb and, better yet, promised to never do it again. But he hadn't and he would, so Doc had sent him a message to ask him over. Not for a professional visit, as crew chief and racer or even mentor and mentee. This, like all home-based interactions was familial. Doc wasn't ashamed to admit he loved Lightning. He didn't exactly keep it a secret. But, tale as old as time, the youth had this idea they were untouchable when they did crazy stuff.
Doc was hoping, almost desparately, that Lightning would walk in with the epiphany that he'd acted like a moron and say he would stop next time, instead of nearly smashing himself to bits on the wall. Then he wouldn't have to discipline him, which would be really nice. He heard the key turn in the lock and smiled, unintentionally, as the kid came in and flopped himself down dramatically on Doc's lumpy couch. "Hey, son."
"Hey, Doc. Could you please get a better couch?"
"It's molded perfectly to my shape."
"You could sell it as an antique, old man."
Doc chuckled. "One day, you'll understand the importance of an old man's relationship with his chair. I got some juiceboxes. Want one?"
Lightning sat up. "Yeah. Uh, please and thank you. I thought you didn't like juiceboxes."
"Eh, they've grown on me." They hadn't. But Lightning liked them, so Doc made sure he had them stocked. He just couldn't tell him that because then Lightning would get all embarrassed and then Doc would, too, and it was just easier to lie. He got one out of the refrigerator and passed it to his midlife surprise who immediately stabbed the straw into it and started slurping it down.
Lightning aimed the newly emptied carton at the trash and threw it. It landed in perfectly, which made him look very pleased with himself. Goddamn kids. "You're not still mad I won, are you, Doc?"
"I'm not mad at all. I'm scared that you'll be reckless again. A burst tire isn't something to drive through, Lightning."
"It's fine. I've driven on two burst tires before now."
"Thar isn't a good thing, son."
"I'm the best racer on the planet. A little burst tire is nothing."
"You were swerving, young man." Doc noticed how Lightning's expression changed from arrogance to anticipation. Oh, damnit, he knew what was coming. Of course he did. This wasn't exactly their first time. "Inches away from a collision with either the separating wall or the cars beside you. It's not nothing, it's dangerous and I'm going to make sure it doesn't happen again."
"Aw, come on, Doc..." Lightning tried to use his large blue eyes to his advantage. "Nothing happened."
Doc sighed and took Lightning's hands. "Enough, son. Let's get this over with." He pulled him up and into a tight hug. "I love you, kid. I don't wanna be picking up pieces of you from a race track. Got it?" He patted Lightning's back and sat on the spot where his boy had been, guiding him across his lap before the kid could argue, bargain or protest. Of course, it didn't take long for all that to start, but it was a lot easier once Lightning was in place, so to speak. This time, Lightning was offering him money, like that was something Doc loved more. He ignored the admittedly generous offers and stroked Lightning's hair, feeling the soft gold under his palm. It had the wanted effect of shutting him up and then Doc moved his hand to the small of Lightning's back. Lifting his right hand, he aimed a sharp swat to the middle of Lightning's jean-clad backside, followed by another, feeling the kid tense and heat build up in his palm. "It's okay to make noise," he reminded him because Lightning was stubborn and would try not to as a point of pride. "You're taking it good enough by taking it, son. There's no need to pretend it doesn't hurt."
Lightning refused, just to prove his point and then gave in, giving little yelps. "Ow...ow! Please, Doc!"
Doc paused the spanking, lightly rubbing the seat of the kid's jeans. "Are you going to drive on flats again?"
"It was fine!"
Apparently he was. Doc sighed and resumed the punishment, focusing more on Lightning's thighs. "Least you're honest, son."
"This isn't fair! I've been racing just fine on two wheels and you're all freaked out for no good reason! Owww! Doc, stop spanking me!"
"Nope. I'd rather you get your hide tanned than get killed in a terrible, avoidable accident."
Lightning thumped the couch with his fists. Anger was coming up, then. "You're just jealous that I'm a better racer than you!"
Doc had to bite his lip to keep from laughing. "Well, sure you are. I never said you weren't. But not because of the tyre thing, Lightning." He gave him a couple of harder smacks for the goddamn nerve and then reached around his waist for his jean buttons. "Afraid it's time to lose your jeans, kiddo."
"The hell it is!" Lightning grabbed his waistband and did his damnedest to manoeuvre his way off Doc's lap.
Doc wasn't having it. He took both Lightning's wrists in one hand, pinning his hands behind his back and eased the jeans to the young racer's knees. Taking the opportunity, he pulled back the leg of Lightning's boxer shorts, noting the pink blush that had bloomed over his backside, before replacing it. "I explained to you plenty of times, son. Could not have been clearer. You disobeyed my orders, ignored my advice and put yourself in danger. You can hate me if you want for spanking you, but I promise you now, I would never punish you for nothing."
"But... But... But, Doc!"
"Was what you did dangerous?"
"No." Lightning muttered petulantly.
More work to do then. Doc smacked the sit-spots of each buttock, listening to Lightning's growing distress. He was certain that Lightning knew he'd done wrong, but hardheaded boy he was, he would only admit it if he really had to. He heard a hitch in Lightning's yells and closed his eyes. Boy, why can't you just say it, huh? His stubborn little racer.
"Dad!" Lightning didn't seem to realise what he'd just sobbed out. "Dad, I'm sorry! Okay, it is dangerous and I know it went out of control and I'm sorry!"
Immediately, Doc stopped, instead rubbing circles on Lightning's shaking back. He never knew what to say after but with Lightning, actions spoke louder than words or, so help him, he would just use those instead of taking the kid over his knee. Tingles sparked in his left hand and he used it to smooth over Lightning's freshly chastised backside, knowing that it undoubtedly stung way more than Doc's palm currently did.
Lightning slowly calmed, sniffling quietly. Affection did the trick for a lot of stuff, unfortunately not including the development of his listening skills. "I'm sorry." He mumbled.
"I know, kiddo. You're all forgiven, you know that. When it's done, it's done." Doc started pulling his jeans back up, only for Lightning to protest. "You sure?"
"I want nothing there! My ass is raw here!"
"I would never beat you like that, Lightning! Raw." Doc pulled them lower instead, taking them off. "I'm gonna set you on my lap, if it's okay."
"Never been on your lap before." Lightning murmured.
"Yeah, sure, you ain't." Doc readjusted him, careful of his sore behind, and hugged him close. "Oh, my boy... What's the matter now?"
Through new tears, Lightning explained: "I said you weren't as good as me and it was mean and I'm sorry!"
Doc let himself laugh, finally. "Ah, kid. It's true! I couldn't beat you fair and square in a race now. That's the thing about new generations, they're meant to be better. Anyhow, I knew you didn't mean it. Everywhere we go, you tell people who I am before you tell people who you are."
"Well... Why wouldn't I?"
Doc cupped the back of Lightning's head and brought him back in for another hug, feeling the young racer cling back with all his might. "See, now, that's why I didn't get offended. You're a good kid, Lightning."
"Thanks. For saying that, not the other bit."
"I gathered." Brushing away stray tears, Doc wondered if Lightning had really meant to call him Dad. He'd be honored, sure. But so surprised. He honestly never thought Lightning minded things like that. Still... If he could call Lightning son, why shouldn't the boy call him Dad?