"It Doesn't Mean Anything."
by Waiting for my Red Caboose
It was a breezy day at the train yard, as Duvay sat by the canyon crying silent tears. She wasn't sweet, like Dinah. She wasn't gorgeous, like Pearl. She couldn't even keep a boxcar interested. Instead, she just pulled her knees up to her chest and stared into the ether.
She heard two voices approaching around the corner. As they neared, she recognized said voices as belonging to Flat-Top and Dustin. They halted as they caught sight of her, and she heard Dustin (very loudly) whisper, "Is she crying?"
Flat-Top brusquely hushed him. "You head on back to the freight yard. I'll catch up."
Dustin wheeled away, and Flat-Top remained, standing silently by the large pile of rocks that made up the corner they had come around. Duvay hastily wiped the tears from her eyes and got to her wheels. Well, this was embarrassing. Flat-Top watched her warily, leaning against the rocks. As she stood, he glanced away quickly, trying to look as if he hadn't been staring. He shoved his hands into his pockets, and glared resolutely out over the canyon.
"Take a picture," Duvay snapped, "it'll last longer."
"I've as much a right to look at the scenery as you do, sweetheart," he retorted in his deliciously cockney accent.
Duvay rolled her eyes, but they were quickly refilling with tears. He used to call her sweetheart…
"I'm not your sweetheart."
Flat-Top scoffed shortly. "Whatever you say."
He continued to very carefully not look at her, but sidled over slightly, making room next to him on the rock he was leaning against.
The sleeper car bit her lip and awkwardly skated over to stand by Flat-Top.
"It's pretty, isn't it?" she offered, looking out at the sun setting over the canyon.
He shifted his gaze towards her. "Yeah...sure is…"
Duvay didn't notice him looking her. "Why are you here, Flat-Top?" She asked. "Why didn't you run off like Dustin or Rocky-" She caught herself, but it was too late. Her cheeks turned red.
Flat-Top shrugged, looking back towards the canyon. "Someone's gotta make sure you get back to the yard in one piece."
She folded her arms across her chest. "And what makes you think I can't do that myself?"
The brick truck rolled his eyes. "I was trying to be nice. Dinah was wailing about you being broken-hearted and goin' over the canyon." He awkwardly scratched at the back of his ear. "She sent me and Dustin to make sure that didn't happen, and Dustin doesn't have the stomach for this sort of thing." He gestured vaguely at Duvay. "Cryin', I mean."
"What does she think I'm going to do, crash myself?" she huffed. "I don't need a babysitter."
"You go back and tell her that. I'll stay here and avoid the tantrum."
"Why don't you just go and leave me alone?" Duvay snapped. She skated back over to the canyon and stared across it as silent tears began to fall down her face again.
Pushing off from the rock, Flat-Top skated after her, hands still jammed in his pockets. He stood about an arm's length away, diagonally behind her. Moments passed as she continued to cry, and she felt something brush her shoulder. Looking, she saw Flat-Top's hand extended towards her, holding a clean, white handkerchief that was barely brushing her shoulder. She reluctantly took it and dried her eyes, then returned to studying the tracks that ran through the bottom of the canyon. The brick truck retracted his arm, but remained standing almost uncomfortably close, eyes locked on her.
"Don't jump. I don't want to have to go down there and gather the scraps."
Duvay looked at him, shocked. "What is wrong with you?"
He shrugged. "I've heard a couple suggestions."
"Oh yeah?" She turned to face him fully. "Well, here's another one." She shoved his handkerchief back at him. "I don't want you here, I didn't ask you to be here, and now you're being mean to me, so why don't you go back to your pals Dustin and Dinah?" She didn't seem to realize that she was stepping dangerously close to the edge as she continued. "You obviously don't care about me or my feelings, or what happens to me, so- ah!" One of her wheels slipped backwards off the edge.
Flat-Top lurched forward, quickly catching ahold of her wrist and yanking her back onto solid ground. The sudden transition of momentum carried her forwards into his chest. He took a step backwards to steady the impact, one hand still closed around her wrist, having somewhat pinned her arm between them when they collided, the other hand braced on the side of her shoulder.
Duvay had a glassy look in her eye. She was able to stay upright for a moment before collapsing forward, onto Flat-Top's chest, shaking like crazy.
He supported her upright for a moment, lifting her wrist in his hand upwards so as to drape her arm around his shoulders. His other arm wound around her waist, and he gently lifted her against him momentarily as he sank to the ground and sat (as dudes do) with his feet flat on the ground and his knees bent. He set her down in front of him, sort of between his legs, supporting her weight against his chest, gently rubbing her lower back in an attempt at comfort as she sobbed.
The force with which Duvay gripped Flat-Top's plating in her fists was almost certainly going to leave dents. If she didn't slow down her breathing soon, she was going to pass out. Her vision was already going dark around the edges.
"Hey, hey, breathe," Flat-Top chided, continuing to rub her back. "You're fine. I gotcha. Just breathe."
Soon, Duvay had climbed completely into Flat-Top's lap and was curled up like a little baby.
She finally caught her breath and was able to speak. "Thank you."
One of his arms was wrapped tightly around her waist, the other around her back with his hand gently cradling the back of her head. "It's no problem."
Duvay gently pulled away. "We should be heading back, I guess…"
He shrugged, dropping his arms and bracing his hands on the ground, leaning his weight back. "If you want."
"I...yeah," she replied, but didn't move. She sat just where she was in his lap, studying him intently.
Flat-Top also remained silent, studying her.
"Rocky broke up with me…" She confessed, her voice cracking as she once again returned to the reason she'd run to the canyon in the first place.
The brick truck blinked, surprised. "Broke up wi-" He laughed a single, humorless bark. "What a piece of shit. He didn't even mention he was dating anyone."
If words could kill, that would have been the final blow. Duvay completely deflated, staring at the ground. Had he really been that ashamed of her? She didn't know whether to be sad or angry...or resigned.
"I don't know why I expected any different."
Flat-Top shrugged. "Like I said, he's a piece of shit."
Duvay's anger was quickly winning out. "I don't know why I bother. No one cares. Maybe I should just jump off the edge of the canyon. I doubt anyone would even notice I was gone." She stood up and started pacing. The tears in her eyes turned hot and angry.
Flat-Top also rose to his feet, carefully positioning himself between her and the canyon.
"Don't look at me like that," she hissed at him.
He held up his hands in surrender. "You're the one talking about killing themselves over a boxcar, not me."
"I'm not talking about killing myself over a boxcar!" Duvay protested, becoming more hysterical by the second. "I'm talking about killing myself because...because why not, huh? My own boyfriend wouldn't even acknowledge my existence. You're only here because of Dinah!" She laughed bitterly. "You would just walk away and go on with your life."
He glared at her. "You think I'd be here if I didn't want to be? Come on. You've been around long enough to know no one can make me do shit I don't wanna do." He took a step towards her, continuing his rant. "And as for why not? Why the hell would you? Cause some dumb Rocky doesn't know enough to show you off and parade you around like the prize you are? Anyone with any sense would be proud to-" He cut off abruptly, dropping his gaze to the ground and stuffing his hands in his pockets once again. "What I mean is…you're a good girl, Duvay. And...people see that...and Rocky's not worth another thought."
The sleeper car dropped the defensive stance she had unintentionally taken when Flat-Top stepped towards her. Instead, she jumped forward and threw her arms around him, sobbing loudly and unashamedly. "I'm so sorry."
He tensed in surprise, holding his arms in the awkward 'wtf random surprise hug. Wat do?' stance.
"Sorry for what?" he asked. "You didn't do anything."
"No I shouldn't have been so stupid. I just-"
At this point, his arms had settled around her waist. "Hey." He raised one hand to her chin, using two curled fingers to tilt her face up so he could better meet her eyes. "Relax, okay? You didn't do anything. It's fine."
"Well, maybe I just need a hug," she whimpered.
He rolled his eyes, dropping her chin, and curled both his arms around her waist. He pulled her tightly against him, lifting her slightly off the ground for a moment.
Duvay was still more than a little shaken from her brush with death, but the hug was nice. She felt safe. She would have liked for it to have lasted much longer, but all too quickly she pulled away. "I kinda just want to sit here for a while. You don't have to stay, if you don't want to. I promise I won't…"
"Nah, I can stay. The canyon's nice at night."
Duvay walked away from the drop off and sat down with her back against the rocks. She sighed. "Why doesn't anyone stay with me? Is it me? Do I push people away? I know you haven't known me for that long, but you're brutally honest, so tell me, truly."
Sitting down next to her, he looked her up and down appraisingly. "You seem fine to me."
Duvay couldn't help but laugh a little bit. She instinctively reached out and took Flat-Top's hand in hers, but she immediately pulled back.
"Sorry," she mumbled, turning bright red. "Force of habit, I guess."
He hesitated briefly before scooting closer, leaving his hand evidently open and within reach. "Don't worry about it…"
Duvay looked at him, surprised. She slowly reached down and took his hand again, still watching his face.
It may have been a trick of the fading light, but she could've sworn she saw a tiny smile play at the corner of his mouth. Remaining silent, he gently closed his fingers over hers.
Something came over her. She wasn't sure what. She didn't even think about it, she just leaned over and kissed his cheek. He tensed, clearly surprised, but didn't protest, turning slightly to look at her. The sleeper car smiled shyly.
"Sorry if that was weird."
He chuckled softly. "I don't mind, just wasn't expecting it."
She blushed profusely, then kissed his cheek again, a little harder this time. She didn't know what she was doing. Was this wrong? It seemed like it should feel wrong, but it...didn't. Before she knew it, she was halfway into his lap again, nuzzling at his neck. Flat-Top slipped one arm down around her waist, lifting/sliding her properly into his lap so her knees were rested on either side of his hips. He rested his one arm around her hips, gently cupping her cheek with the other hand. He kissed her forehead, and then tilted her chin to rest his forehead against hers, meeting her eyes.
"I don't want you to do anything you wouldn't normally do, just 'cause you're hurting."
"It doesn't have to mean anything…" she said softly, pressing her body against his.
He inhaled, tensing against her. "If you're sure…"
She kissed his lips heatedly, grinding her hips against his. That little voice in her head was screaming, "Duvay, what the fuck are you doing!?" But she didn't stop. She couldn't stop. Flat-Top's arm around her waist tightened, pulling her harshly against him. His other hand moved from her cheek to the base of her skull, cradling her head as his lips worked roughly against hers.
Duvay snaked her arm down between their bodies to release Flat-Top's pelvic plating. All inhibition was gone now. What did she have to lose? She kissed him passionately. She felt a little bad for using him like this...but she had told him it didn't mean anything, and he had agreed, hadn't he? She fought hard to quiet the little voice in her head. She didn't need this now, she could feel guilty later.
Once more, the brick truck hesitated. Pushing back slightly to break the contact between their mouths. He looked at her intently.
"Are you certain you want this?"
A look of horror crossed the coach's face. "Oh, Starlight. You...don't, do you?"
Flat-Top shook his head quickly, a sharp laugh escaping. "I've wanted this since you first showed up in the yard."
She froze, staring at him in disbelief. "You what?"
He shrugged. "You're not exactly hard to look at."
She looked away, blushing, but still looking completely defeated. "You're just saying that…"
He rolled his eyes, rotating sideways away from the rocks they had been against and leaning back on his elbows so he could see her better. He let his gaze slowly trail up and down her body, bit his lip, and let out a low whistle (note: not a proper train whistle, because he's not an engine).
"Nah, not hard to look at at all."
Duvay laughed her first proper laugh of the evening and actually smiled. Still leaning back on his elbows, Flat-Top shifted his weight under her so he could reach one arm out and trail his fingers down her cheek and jawline.
"There, much better than crying," he said with a smile, his voice low and warm.
Duvay leaned down, placing her hands on either side of his body, and kissed him again; softly this time. He cupped her cheek in his hand, lips pulsing gently but firmly against hers.
The sleeper car broke the kiss. "You know," she whispered breathlessly, "you're not so hard to look at, either."
He laughed. "She's got a sense of humor, too. I like that."
"I'm not kidding."
He grinned wickedly. "Well, looking at me may not be hard, but d'you know what is?"
Duvay snorted. "Yeah, I'm sitting on your lap."
He laughed again. "Glad you'd noticed."
"Yeah, wouldn't it have been unfortunate, otherwise?"
"It really, really would've."
"But...here we are, so...good for you."
Once more he laughed, looking her up and down again. "Good for me indeed."
Duvay shook her head in disbelief. This truck...well, she didn't know what to think of this truck. But she knew she wanted him. That very instant. Again, she snaked one hand in between their bodies, this time wrapping her delicate fingers around his spike and stroking it gently, all while softly touching her lips to his...not a kiss...not quite.
Inhaling sharply and jerking slightly in surprise at the sudden contact, Flat-Top's hand that was on the ground balled into a fist, and Duvay felt him tense up under her. She could feel his lips moving against hers, not in a kiss, but as if he were speaking.
A mischievous smile played on her lips. "Something wrong, pumpkin?"
"Just caught me by surprise is all," he replied, his voice a low purr. He quickly darted his tongue out, brushing it against her lips. Duvay gasped lightly at the feel of his tongue on her lips. She removed her hand from his spike, wrapped both arms around his shoulders and ground against him, kissing him like her life depended on it.
He sat up, pulling her against him roughly with one arm, using the other to brace himself as he shifted and turned, placing her on the ground where he had just been. He braced both hands on the ground on either side of her, ducking down to bury his face in her neck, planting deep, almost frantic kisses.
Duvay moaned softly and closed her eyes. She placed her hand on the back of his head, lovingly petting his hair. "I need you."
Lips working against her neck and across her collarbone, he reached down between them, tugging her skirt up around her hips. He sharply shifted his hips forward against hers, guiding his spike into her.
The sleeper car gasped as he entered her, wrapping her arms tightly around his shoulders and clinging to him for dear life. Her breathing picked up as they found their rhythm.
With one arm still braced on the ground, and the other wrapped under and around her waist, Flat-Top pulled her roughly, even tighter against his hips. With a low growl, he began to thrust slower, deeper. Duvay's vision went blurry, and she had to remind herself to breathe. This would not be a convenient time to pass out. She moaned breathlessly, gripping the plating on Flat-Top's back in her fists with bruising force.
He groaned, his breath becoming ragged as he moved against her, quickening his pace. His fingers gripped tightly in the dirt and on her waist.
"Starlight!" Duvay cried out as she suddenly climaxed, tensing then relaxing, breathing heavily.
Her release pushed Flat-Top over the edge, his voice breaking somewhere between a cry and a groan as he came. Pulling back, he collapsed into the dust next to her, panting.
Duvay stared up at the stars in the dusky sky. "What just happened…?"
He let out a short, breathless laugh. "Correct me if I'm wrong, little lady, but I believe that was a consolation fuck."
She closed her eyes. "Oh, Starlight…"
The brick truck rolled onto his back, his breathing evening again. "It's Flat-Top, actually."
"I shouldn't have done that. I- and you-" she covered her face with her hands.
He groaned, sitting up and rubbing the heel of his palm against his forehead. "I should've known." Dropping his head back and looking up towards the sky, he muttered, "Flat-Top you fuckinidiot, 'go for it' never actually means 'go for it'."
Duvay sighed heavily. "No, I didn't mean...that. I mean…" She looked away. "I think I just used you."
Startled, he looked down at her, answering with a laugh. "Well, yeah. Didn't we already establish that before we started?"
"You deserve better than that." She slowly stood up and dusted herself off, tugging her skirt back down into place. "And now I feel even shittier than I did, before."
His gaze followed her as she stood. "I told you it's not a problem. You're right though, I certainly don't deserve the likes of you."
She looked at him, not sure what to say. "Hold your shit together," that little voice in her head said. "You've caused enough trouble, like you always do."
Flat-Top sighed, pushing himself to his feet and replacing his pelvic plating. "Relax, Duvay. It's fine." He clapped a hand on her shoulder. "I'm a big boy, I can take care of myself; you didn't take advantage of me."
"For what it's worth…" Duvay smiled awkwardly, still looking anywhere but at Flat-Top. "That was the best fuck I've had in a long time."
He chuckled, tapping his forehead in a mock salute. "I aim to please."
She turned to face him. "You deserve to find someone, Flat-Top. Someone...beautiful, and kind, and...untarnished. You'll treat her right, I know it." She looked at the ground. "I should be getting back to my station."
He opened his mouth to say something, but stopped himself. He looked down, shoving his hands into his pockets. "I guess I should head back to the freight yard…"
"Thank you for…" Duvay laughed in spite of herself. "For everything."
Flat-Top shrugged. "Glad to be of service."
Duvay stood silently for far too long, trying to figure out the best way to say goodbye. Should she hug him? Kiss him? Or maybe she had done enough damage.
"Um...goodnight," she whispered and started to skate back towards the train yard.
The brick truck stood, watching her skate away. "Goodnight, Duvay…" he mumbled, watching her retreating figure a while longer before heading towards the station shared by the freight trucks.