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1.
It is midnight in the city, with barely any cars roaming the streets, basking the city in the tranquil of darkness. Dexter is grateful for the emptiness that comes with this timing, making the fact that an excavator is driving through the streets with little to no construction nearby less suspicious than it usually would be.
The peaceful quiet stretches on even as the excavator drives past the city, with packed skyscrapers and shophouses transitioning to equally dense trees and vegetation as Dexter arrives at the outskirts of the city, slipping into the construction zone where he had first met Jun and the others.
Checking his vicinity just in case any humans had stayed overnight, Dexter transforms back into his larger form, stretching out the hydraulics which had cramped up before slipping into the vegetation that had yet to be touched by the construction; one which had been thankfully paused indefinitely due to him.
It's a path he memorised long ago, the dirt path hard to see to all but him. He ducks and weaves between branches and bushes before finding himself in front of his favourite spot - a small lake that seems to reflect the moonlight just right, bringing peace and awe to the excavator's nerves as he settles into the grass, awaiting his usual companions.
The wait isn't long. Several cats approach Dexter with a familiar look, with the strays having been staying in a shelter that the excavator had constructed for them long ago. Humming to himself cheerfully, Dexter pulls out several cans of cat food which he had gotten Jun to purchase for him, laying them on the ground for the cats after opening them.
"That's it, eat well my precious babies~" Dexter coos, a higher tone than he usually puts on around the others, one reserved for the privacy of the forest and his cats.
Or so he thinks, the familiar sound of a flute drawing his attention as the excavator's head snaps upwards, spotting a familiar metallic red that seems to shimmer in the night. "Hm, didn't know you're voice could go that high, Dexter." Fleta Z notes, absent mindedly sitting on a branch of a nearby tree with his flute in his hand.
"F-Fleta?" Dexter calls out, a mixture of emotions running through his systems at the sight of the aircraft; Annoyance for his private time being disrupted, surprise due to being caught off guard and... as embarrassing as it is, a hint of fluster at the sight of him. The excavator's fans whirr slightly louder, though they are masked by the sound of nature. "What are you doing here? Don't you usually practice your flute at the dock instead?"
"There are humans there tonight, so I chose to come here instead. The nature provides a... peaceful and calming backdrop, perfect to practice." Fleta Z hums, playing a couple notes before he reflects the question back at Dexter. "And what are you doing here so late? Don't you have to get up early to take care of the plants around the auto-shop?"
"Well yes, but-" Dexter clears his throat, stopping himself from saying anything about his cats lest his voice raises to that embarrassing pitch once more. "Just look at them. Surely my duties in the morning can be delayed slightly for some time with them." Dexter turns his attention back to the cats, the excavator not wanting to keep eye contact with Fleta Z for too long.
After all, that was the longest the two had ever conversed since Fleta Z had been sealed, the tiny crush the excavator had making any attempts at talking melt into stutters and awkward laughs. Have to thank the adrenaline of being caught off guard for that. Dexter thinks to himself, mind wandering off slightly.
It is a beautiful night, and it is only just the two of them here tonight. Maybe... maybe I could tell him now? The idea pops into Dexter's head, the excavator's systems quickly running on overdrive as his heart quickly catches up with the thought. But what if he's not into you? What if this just makes things super awkward? What if-
No! Dexter shakes his head, the rapid motion drawing the attention of some of the cats as the excavator stills his nerves. This was a one time opportunity to try and get it out. "Hey Fleta, could I tell you something?" Dexter proclaims, his voice a tad shaky despite his attempts to still it back to its usual cool tone. "I actually-"
Huh?
The aircraft was nowhere to be seen, with the forest returning to being Dexter's private grounds, which is both a curse and a blessing. The excavator sighs to himself, plopping down onto the grass face first as he lets out an exasperated groan. "God damnit.." He grumbles to himself.
The cats get quite a show that night, watching the excavator roll around on the ground like some toddler having a tantrum.
2.
That night sticks to the inside of Dexter's head for the many days that follow, the excavator having had both his waking and sleeping thoughts occupied about how that night could have gone if only he hadn't hesitated. Stupid, stupid! He curses himself out in his head as he waters the plants that he had planted by the auto-shop.
However, in the haze of his distraction, he doesn't sense the presence of another cardbot just behind him, leading to the excavator jumping in surprise as a hand is placed on his shoulder. The sudden action knocks over the potted plant he was watering, the pot shattering in the process.
"Ah, my apologies Dexter." Fleta Z steps back and retracts his hand back to his side, giving the excavator a small bow. "I did not mean to scare you. Are you okay?" The aircraft watches as Dexter rubs his head, shaking off the water from the watering can that had splashed onto him.
"Yeah, I'm fine." Dexter grunts, though his mood soon sours as he spots the plant resting amongst a pile of dirt on the floor, drawing an irritated sigh from the excavator as he quickly scoops up the plant to place it in a different pot in an attempt to hopefully save it. He brushes past Fleta Z, who can sense the aggression.
"I'm sorry Dexter, is there anything I can-"
"Just go. Please." Dexter sighs, too annoyed from nearly losing a plant to bother with being nice as he shoots the aircraft a look over his shoulder. Fleta Z, although taken aback by the sudden outburst, abides with the excavator's request, wordlessly turning and leaving to carry on with his plans for the day.
It's only after Dexter has placed the plant into a new pot and checked to ensure that it would still grow healthily that the excavator calms down. And it's only in this moment does the guilt set in. Fleta Z hadn't meant to scare him in the first place, to lash out at him for a simple mistake... Plus,
"Is there anything I can-"
Damnit! Dexter's eyes widen as the question which had been cut off by his passion induced rage finally registers in his head, the excavator realising that that might have been the perfect opportunity to ask the aircraft out. Yet, he blew it once more, having been too focused on his plant.
"Hmph, you better grow well after that." Dexter lightly chides the plant despite it's inability to respond, the excavator heading off after finishing up with watering the other plants.
3.
The rose in Dexter's hand matches the shade of red that adorns Fleta Z's body, the excavator double checking its quality to ensure that he only hands the aircraft the best of the best. Usually, the best of the best would only come from what he grows, but Dexter has no time to wait that long for a flower to grow so that he can apologise for his outburst a couple days back.
However, the excavator encounters an issue that seems to be bigger than the fact the quality of the rose in his hand isn't what he wishes it was, and it's that he can't find Fleta Z anywhere. Having searched high, low, and every spot Fleta Z frequents, Dexter feels his heart twist with a tinge of worry that he refuses to admit has made it hard for him to sit still.
The day passes, with the flower resting in a jar that Dexter filled with water to keep it hydrated. It's only at night does Fleta Z return to the auto-shop, and it's only then does Dexter notice the new scratch across the aircraft's chestplate. Taking the jar in his hands, he approaches the other.
"Are you okay?" He exclaims, leaning in close to examine the new mark. "What happened? Can you stand?" The barrage of questions from the excavator draws an amused sigh from Fleta Z, though the 'amused' part seems to slip over Dexter's head as he worries over the aircraft.
"I'm fine, Dexter." Fleta Z tries to reassure, though its clear none of it is getting through to the excavator. "Why are you so worried? It's just a tiny mark is all."
"Why am I so worried? Well maybe it's because I-"
Dexter pauses mid sentence, his brain reeling from the thought that he nearly just blurted out the fact that he had a crush on Fleta Z because of his passionate ranting. It's only in this moment does the excavator realise how close he is to the other cardbot right now, his systems starting to heat up slightly.
"Because I.... feel bad. For lashing out of you that day. Yep." Dexter finishes up the sentence awkwardly, rubbing the back of his neck as he lets out a sheepish laugh. Fleta Z watches this, tilting his head in confusion as he watches the excavator fumble over his words. "Speaking of which, here!"
Wanting to get out of this awkward encounter as fast as possible, Dexter shoves the jar which contains the flower into Fleta Z's arms before booking it in the other direction, leaving the regret of not making a move to future him as he goes to hide away in his room. God, he wishes he could bury himself underground once more, though Jun would probably scold him for causing damage in the auto-shop once more.
Meanwhile, Fleta Z looks down at the flower, the sound of his fans whirring faster filling the silence of night.
4.
The other cardbots that stay with Jun are many things: With Blue Cop being responsible, Phoenix Fire being nice, Shadow X being a pain in the ass... However, if there's one thing that they all have in common, it's that none of them have any experience in romance; that is Fleta Z's specialty.
Which becomes a big problem when you're trying to write a confession, and the expert on writing said confessions is the target of it all. Bent over a comically large piece of paper he had acquired, Dexter struggles to find the words to appropriately confess to Fleta Z.
Maybe a drawing? The excavator thinks to himself, rolling the paper up as he paces down towards the exit of the auto-shop. He remembers that Fleta Z had mentioned during one of his many rambles about romance that love isn't always expressed through words, and that there are other ways of showing it. Surely a drawing will suffice, right?
Pondering what he would like to draw, Dexter doesn't notice the aircraft that's rounding the corner, the excavator falling back with a loud thud. "Ow..." Dexter groans, cursing fate for placing Fleta Z in front of him over and over again since the revelation that occurred to the excavator. He feels the area around him for the paper, only to feel just the squeaky flooring of the auto-shop. Prying his eyes open, he spots his unfinished confession letter, though it rests just before Fleta Z.
"No!" Dexter calls out before Fleta Z can flip it over to see the half-assed confession that's currently written down, the excavator scrambling to pick the paper up. "It's a secret. Sorry." He shoots Fleta Z a sheepish look, one which he has been giving the aircraft a lot recently.
"Oh? What kind of secret?" Fleta Z tilts his head in curiosity, the romantic cardbot taking a wild swing of a guess. "Is it... a confession letter?"
Bullseye.
Dexter feels his systems kick into overdrive, the excavator trying to find a reason to leave the conversation as fast as possible. "Haha! Ha... I, uh, actually have something to do right now. So I'll be going!" Dexter stammers out before booking it without a destination in mind, the only goal being away from the prying words of the aircraft. "Bye!"
Fleta Z watches the excavator leave with an amused look.
I wonder who it is...
5.
"Happy New Years!"
The chatter of both cardbots and humans fill the auto-shop with enough noise to probably get some complaints, with Mega Trucker's laughter being the biggest suspect as he retells some story for the third time in a row. Although he isn't one to celebrate that much, he can't deny that this human tradition is entertaining.
So, he indulges, laughing along at the stupid shit everyone is getting up to during the festivities, with this being the first time Dexter isn't spending the New Year's alone. Though, all things must come to an end, with Jun and the others soon heading off to sleep or recharge after exerting all their energy.
This leaves two awake. Dexter, who's finishing up the last details on his letter, and Fleta Z, who rests on the rooftop of the auto-shop as he plays his flute. The song is soothing, calming Dexter's racing heart as he gives the letter one last look. The contents feel inadequate, the words having been extended multiple times over multiple iterations. Still..
No. No more hesitating.
Rounding the building to the ladder. Dexter climbs up to the rooftop, the music from the flute growing louder with each step he takes towards the aircraft. Dexter watches as Fleta Z sits by the edge of the auto-shop, the excavator having to steel his nerves as the moonlight makes the aircraft look more ethereal than he usually does.
Wordlessly, in fear that his words may make him look like an idiot, Dexter sits by Fleta Z's side, staring off into the night sky. Fleta Z finishes his piece, turning his attention towards the excavator. "Did you need something, Dexter?" Fleta Z asks, his piercing gaze making the excavator's heart act up again.
The letter is extended towards Fleta Z, and the aircraft recognises the paper.
"Oh? So the confession letter that day..." The aircraft knows that this is an emotional moment, but he can't help but tease.
"Just shut up and read it." Dexter huffs, optics flickering pink for a brief moment.
Fleta Z chuckles as he shakes his head, slowly taking the letter within his hands. Fingertips tracing the edges of the intricately designed paper, he slowly peels it open and pulls out it's contents. His eyes drift over each and every word, before landing on the roses that cover the lower half of the letter.
It's beautiful, the eloquent aircraft finding his own heart beating a little faster.
"So..." Dexter starts, but he's soon interrupted by the press of Fleta Z's faceplate against his. The contact, the hand on his chin while the other snakes around his waist.. Dexter's panels part in an attempt to cool his body down, fans whirring obnoxiously loud as if they're trying to kill the moment.
Pulling back, Fleta Z observes the flustered reaction of the excavator, noting the way his optics have turned pink.
Cute.