Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Darington never thought of finding himself in this situation. Cuddling beside Crusher on the couch at 3 in the morning while the TV was on. It was a strange situation that Darington reluctantly embraced with open arms. Instead of being held by cold arms, his embrace was returned with a hug as tight as a bear and as gentle as a butterfly. Darington liked this, and he loved coming back to this warmth, guilty of him to say. 

It started when he and Stripes had a fight. Darington didn’t remember what it was about, but he knew that it lead to a lot of shouting, broken plates, and tears. Darington drove off during sunset, never really having a specific location in mind. He ended up in a small park, where not a lot of trucks stopped by. He sat on a bench and just watched as the sun disappeared into the horizon, showing only the moon and clouds as its companion.

Darington sat alone, for what felt like hours. Alone with his thoughts and daydreams and hopes that Stripes would apologize and they could move on as if nothing ever happened. Darington was alone, with nothing beside him. Until he wasn’t. 

He hadn’t realized someone approach him until he felt their presence when he sat beside him on the bench. Darington glanced at the person, silently hoping it was Blaze for he really needed a friend right now, only to be met with Crusher staring silently into the night. 

“C--Crusher?” Darington stammered back, almost falling off the bench if he didn’t catch himself. “What are you doing here?” he asked. 

Crusher looked at him and raised a brow. Darington fidgetted uncomfortably in his seat as if he was caught in something like a child caught drawing on the walls when he was told not to.

“What are you doing here?” Crusher shot back, catching Darington unprepared. 

Darington turned away, unable to answer. He only fidgeted with his tires as he remained silent, not really wanting to disclose his personal life to one of the biggest cheaters in the city. Darington glanced at Crusher and met his eyes, obsidian orbs drowned in the sunlight by day but glowed with the hue of sapphires by night. Darington thought it was pretty. 

Seeing that Darington wouldn’t answer, Crusher sighed and turned away, pulled out a sketchbook, and began to draw. Darington watched as Crusher directed his pencil along with the blank pages of the sketchbook, drawing what seemed to be a forest. He glanced at Crusher’s expression and found his solemnness strange from the usual loud and prideful racer he was during the day. Crusher glanced at him, and he looked away, afraid he might be caught staring. 

Crusher went on with his drawing, making sketches and focusing on the edges, even leaning a little bit to let Darington watch. It was a small beginning, but it quickly evolved into Darington leaning beside Crusher, sharing some juice Crusher brought with him as he vents out about his argument with Stripes. 

“I love Stripes, but sometimes he could be so difficult!” Darington expressed, chewing on the straw of the juice box he was given. 

Crusher nodded silently, watching as a little line of ants made their way past them and into a crack that was hard to see under from the dim night. Darington caught his attention again when he sighed.

Darington looked at the ground, his juice cup on his side as he looked like he was zoning out. Crusher was about to ask him what’s wrong when Darington spoke, “how come you’re so calm?” Darington glanced at Crusher, his head tilted to the right side where his eyes glowed like the beautiful obsidians they were. 

Crusher turned away, a small flush painting his cheeks not really prepared for Darington’s question, nor the sudden music that filled his ears when he looked into Darington’s face. Who knew the klutzy stunt truck could look so pretty at night? Oh, wait… Stripes knew. 

Crusher turned back to Darington, only for the other truck to appear closer than last time. Crusher’s breath hitched and he found that he couldn’t breathe, afraid that the other monster truck would cringe away if he dared inhale the same oxygen he uses. 

“Usually, you’re so loud and proud, and…” Darington let out a low chuckle, “… Annoying. No offense.”

“None taken.”

“But, right now…” Darington leaned in, and Crusher found himself paralyzed, unable to move, trapped in the gaze of Darington’s eyes. Now that he could see them more closely, his eyes weren’t actually black at all. They were brown to the deepest shade, the richest shade of chocolate he has ever seen. “I kind of think you’re kinda cool…” 

Darington closed the space between them and Crusher didn’t know what to do. Should he push him back? Should he yell at him? Darington had a boyfriend, and isn’t this basically cheating? Crusher didn’t know what to do, but he does know that Darington’s lips were soft, silky even. If he could just lean a little more, he could taste the flavor of the juice Darington drank. Orange. 

It was chaste, but heavenly for the both of them. They broke apart, and Crusher immediately apologized, saying how he should learn his boundaries, promising that he would never do that again. But Darington didn’t want that. He shushed Crusher during his rambling and pulled him in another kiss. 

That was the beginning of a sweet series of unexpected disappearances before and after races, not often enough to be noticed. Then, it evolved into hanging out at night, skating in Darington’s skatepark, or chatting in the park downtown near Crusher’s apartment. Darington and Crusher never told anyone, since sweet Darington was still dating the tiger-themed monster truck. Crusher found this irritating at times, unable to stop the snake of envy to whisper in his ears about how Darington should be with him and him only, but his patience would often be rewarded with the heated make-out sessions and movie nights he and Darington held in his apartment. 

How does Pickle never find out about this? Pickle moved out of their apartment so he could be closer to the daycare he opened and his and Crusher’s antics and adventures had to wait until it was the holidays where the daycare was closed.

So, it was just Crusher in his apartment, a bit too big without his friend around, but Darington’s visits always made his place a bit warmer. 

Darington’s visits became more often the next few months and he always came crying and venting to Crusher how Stripes didn’t understand and how pained he is that Stripes wouldn’t take the time to understand him like how Crusher does. Crusher wanted to comfort him as much as possible, and he even suggested he break up with Stripes if he made him that miserable. That was a mistake for it only made Darington mad at him because the possibility of even breaking up with Stripes made him upset. 

That just rubbed Crusher the wrong way. If Darington wasn’t planning to break up with Stripes anytime soon, then how long would Crusher have to act as the side-chick? The second option? Crusher couldn’t turn Darington away that night for he had nowhere else to go. 

Crusher found himself caught in a web made out of lies, made by a spider who fed him with false hope and passion, chemicals dangerous for his body to consume. Crusher thought of leaving many times, but he never went through with it. Why? He didn’t know. 

Maybe it’s because he wanted a companion, someone to replace Pickle and have them comfort him whenever he’s sad. Maybe it’s because he pitied the blue truck, viewing him as something to be protected, something fragile that has the potential to break any minute. Or maybe it’s because he’s addicted to this, addicted to Darington’s touch and cries and being treated the way Darington treats him. 

Crusher felt like a wooden doll, walking towards its master so he could have his string renewed, so his master won’t wonder why the strings easily break. He would let Darington take his strings and make a dance in front of a crowd, making a fool of himself as he did so. Even if Crusher wanted to stop, he couldn’t, he can’t. He already gave Darington the means to control him, the means to cut off his oxygen any time he wants with a pull of a string. 

It started off as soft kisses here and there, then it became something rougher, something more aggressive. Crusher and Darington started fights and it would mostly center on Stripes, and it went on and on until they just avoided the topic. Darington came more and more often, even when he and Stripes didn’t fight. Crusher became more and more clingy, having the need to be close to Darington, and wherever he goes, Crusher follows, even when it’s none of his business, even if he had to maintain his distance. Crusher needed Darington in his sight; he knows this and hates it. 

It was a damned cycle neither of them wanted to break. Something was thought to be innocent at first but became an addiction that they weren’t willing to let go of. And the more it draws on, the more problematic it got.

Their subtle exits weren’t so subtle anymore. They skipped the softness and went rough on their kissing. Darington didn’t bother to vent and just kissed Crusher directly, pushing him towards his room, begging for his touch. Darington often didn’t know what he was doing or why he was doing it, but it feels great. It’s euphoric, so why should he stop? He has no reason to.

Chapter Text

Crusher heard shifting from the bed and he turned to see Darington stretching and jumping off from the bed. He grabbed his phone on his nightstand and peeked at the screen for it to only show the time 5:00 AM. Crusher groaned as he got up and watched as Darington scoured his drawers for a towel. 

Darington noticed the other blue truck up, and as soon as he got a towel, he drove over to Crusher and kissed his cheek. “Morning,” he whispered, knowing full well he didn’t like too much noise early in the morning. Crusher made a muffled sound in return and pecked Darington’s cheek before groggily getting out of bed to prepare breakfast. 

The two males went ahead and did their routine; Crusher took care of breakfast while Darington takes a shower to get rid of whatever scent that lingered around him after sex. 

It was their usual routine and Crusher always liked how they would eat together in the mornings and Darington would always kiss him whenever he left. 

But today, Crusher felt like he was forgetting something. It wouldn’t be odd for Darington to wake up early in the morning, but there was just something in the back of his head that he seems to be forgetting. 

When he and Darington already sat down, Crusher asked, “am I forgetting something today?”

“Hm?” Darington put down his fork and looked quizically at Crusher. “Umm… I don’t think so…” 

“Are you going anywhere today? Any event or something?” 

“Uh, yeah,” Darington replied as he ate a piece of bacon. “It’s Starla’s birthday today. At a skate park at 12 PM. Stripes is picking me up at 9 to get gifts.” Darington was used to being transparent with Crusher. He started answering unprompted questions when he realized Crusher’s habit of asking where he was. “No other plans today. I’ll text you if Stripes wants a date or something,” Darington promised. 

Crusher let out a satisfied hum and then went back to eating. 

Before Darington left through the door, Crusher gave him a soft peck on the lips and waved him off. 

Stripes checked the things he needed to bring again: wallet, umbrella, water bottle. Those are the things trucks normally bring in an outing. He checked his wallet and smiled at the amount of money inside. It was enough to buy Starla a gift and buy Darington a meal while they were out. He knows full well Darington could pay for himself but it doesn’t hurt to buy him some food once in a while. Also, he still might be mad at him-- for a fight, they had a week ago-- so, he had to make up for that. 

He packed the things inside his trunk just as Rose called him for breakfast. Stripes closed his trunk and went to eat with his sister. His mouth slightly watering at the display of food in front of him. Delicious. 

“Morning!” Rose greeted as she set the plates down and handed Stripes his utensils. 

Stripes didn’t hesitate to dig in and moaned when the food touched his taste buds. He smiled at his sister and applauded her. “That cooking club is really doing you well, Rose,” he praised. 

The pink truck giggled and a small blush appeared on her cheeks. “Thanks, Stripes. Although, it’s hardly as good as my other classmates’.”

“Awe, c’mon now. Don’t say that,” Stripes said encouragingly. “This is the best home-cooked meal I ever had!”

“You always say that,” Rose retorted with a roll of her eyes. She turned to him with a smile and asked, “are you going anywhere today?”

“Yeah! It’s Starla’s birthday.”

“Oh! Tell her I said happy birthday!”

Stripes laughed and ate another piece of the meal. “I sure will,” he answered. “Darington and I are going to get her a gift--”

“You’re still with Darington?”

“Huh?” 

Concern morphed on Rose’s face as she looked at her brother. “Bro, I know you like him… But…” Rose trailed on, waving her tire in the air as if to gesture what she meant. 

Stripes frowned, now knowing what she meant. “I am not breaking up with him, Rose,” Stripes said, hastily finishing his meal and putting it in the sink. “We are not going to have this conversation again. 

Stripes knew Rose has seen them fight. Some nights, it was bad. Other nights, they just shrugged it off and continued as usual. Rose has raised her concerns more than once, saying that if they continue to fight like this, their relationship would grow into something toxic. Stripes shrugged that off because there was no way they would grow into that. Stripes would see that himself, and it’s not like Darington was abusing him or anything. They just had a few fights; nothing world-changing. 

Rose frowned and followed Stripes to the door. “Stripes,” she called. When he ignored her, she tried again. “Stripes.” Again, ignore.

The yellow-eyed truck grew irritated and grabbed Stripes’s tire before he left. “Stripes, listen to me,” she demanded. 

With a sigh, Stripes turned to her with a frown. “Listen, Rose…” Stripes turned to his sister with a passive look, not really wanting to have this conversation again. “I have to pick Darington at 9 and--”

Rose cut him off, “Stripes, you can’t continue to act as if this relationship is normal. You fight too much, even on the smallest things. You can’t keep ignoring that you and Darington have a problem!”

“We don’t have a problem!”

“See?! Exactly what I was talking about!” Rose said as she pointed an accusatory tire at him. 

Stripes groaned and turned away. “I’m leaving,” he stated. 

Stripes gripped on the knob, but before he could leave, Rose pulled on his tire again. He was about to scold her, but he shut his mouth when the pink truck embraced him in a hug. Stripes was confused at first but swept his concern under the rug and hugged his sister back. 

After a few moments of silence, Rose spoke, “I care about you, Stripes. I don’t like seeing you hurt.” 

Stripes’s face contorted in a frown and just buried his head against his sister’s shoulder. He almost laughed to himself because she almost reached his height. She’s growing fast and soon, she might even get a lover like him. She would understand then what it feels to love someone, to feel like someone has got you on a leash and trapped your heart in a cage. What it would feel like to be torn apart only to be repaired if only given a few soft kisses. It was like an addiction Stripes doesn’t want to let go of. No, not yet. 

He patted the yellow-eyed truck and pulled away. “I’ll be okay, I promise.” 

Rose sighed and shook her head, tiredness painting her sunlit orbs as she looked at Stripes. “You shouldn’t make promises you couldn’t keep.”

Stripes only laughed, rubbing the head of his sister, and the seriousness Rose wanted to imitate was torn away and replaced with a fit of giggles. 

Stripes kissed her forehead before heading out the door to meet Darington for gift shopping.