Work Text:
Sugar is bad for engines. It's one of the first things you learn when you study their anatomy and how they work: sugar clogs up their system, leading to sickness and necessity to clean the tank. It's a very long process that can make them out of order for a few hours or even a day if the damage is bad.
That being said the engines you work with are extremely curious about humans, but mostly what they consume. It's such a foreign concept to them — humans have infinite combinations of food instead of just a few options (coal, water and fuel)? And don't even start to explain them about taste buds and how different foods can have different tastes (even the same food just in a different conservation state? Crazy).
Since you've been assigned as a relief driver, and one of the youngest people to be, you've became the number one go-to person to explain human nutrition to them. They're so passionate about everything but are afraid of overstepping their role of "very useful engines" by asking silly questions (and don't want to bother the older workers and drivers). You of course indulge in every single one, using every opportunity to let them learn about human's food. The best time is when you get assigned a goods train filled with food, making it a teaching moment for whoever you're driving. On the other hand you're also curious: yes, tecnically they don't eat because they use their type of fuel, but they seem to have every human's sensory imput: they can feel touch, see, listen, even smell! But taste? You're in the dark about it.
Well, until a certain engine himself gives you a chance you discover new stuff about them and himself.
"Ehy you, what are you munching about?"
It's late that night but the dieselwork is still buzzing with activity. There are few employees around, some just doing normal maintenance and others leaving. You're sitting on a crate filling an incident form from earlier today. It's been a long day and you haven't eaten anything since a light lunch you had around eleven, so you're snacking one of your favourite snack: biscuits with a layer of dark chocolate on top, a staple of your childhood that your parents sent you in a care package a few days ago. You look up at the black engine, already smiling.
"Ehy Diesel, just some biscuits I got from my parents. I haven't eaten yet but I'm hungry so-"
"Gimme one"
You stare at him. "Why?"
"Because I want one, now gimme!"
You giggle nervously, Diesel can be very silly sometimes. He's not and he just glares at you. He's dead serious.
"Absolety not!" you exclaim, rising from the crate.
"Wha-WHY NOT?" he shrieks out, his faceplate going red from indignation as if you've just told him that there isn't anymore fuel for the day.
"Diesel you can get sick, it's not good for you!"
"Says who?"
"Oh nobody, just every manual and lesson about diesel engines I took for this job!"
"I said I want one!"
You sigh. He's a real headache, the devious Diesel. You had your doubts about him for the longest time, mostly influenced by the steamies you have driven over the course of your employment on the Sodor's Railway. Everybody knows Diesel and try to steer away from him as much as possible.
Rude. Sly weasel. Proud. Dangerous.
You heard and still hear these adjectives thrown at him sometimes — to be fair it's not like it's not true, but it leaves out a big chunk on why he's like that.
The treatment that diesels, even the nicer ones, get while working on the railway it's always a topic of conversation among the workers: used mostly as shunters they also show inner social class conflict among themselves, especially those who can take passengers and more important jobs.
Already under steamies by number they also fight among themselves. You've witnessed it pretty well, resulting in workers and drivers getting involved when things were getting out of hand and wheel.
You got assigned Diesel a few times and it had been rocky: he knew who you were, and worst of all he always saw you working with the steamies. With Duck.
You knew that their relationship was bad at best, with the green engine ignoring the diesel as much as he could, which was one of the reasons you were a bit weary about him. He wasn't entirely happy about you too, refusing to talk and cooperate; that was until you put your foot down and reprimanded him gently, asking to just do his job and that after you wouldn't bother him. Well, it seemed to have worked pretty well because next you know he's vouching for you to all the other diesels to treat you with respect. Apparently it doesn't work on him.
"Diesel what it's all about? Do you even eat? I mean, you have a mouth but…" you ask as you lift the crate and putting it on the tracks in front of Diesel. He huff and rolls his eyes at you, rolling along until he reaches you, his buffers in front of you. You smile as you stroke him, knowning it brings him a lot of comfort.
"Well no we don't but-"
"Then I kinda can't give it to you Diesel, what's the point?"
"We can taste things! But not eat like that, it's- urgh!" he growls and looks away, seemingly embarassed.
You giggle. It feels like arguing to a child sometimes.
"Diesel look, talk to me. I can't understand unless you tell me what's bothering-"
"It's unfair!" you jump at his outburst, clearly unexpected, "I saw yesterday that Thomas getting offered coal and eating it. And he boasted about it!"
Ah. Well, now everything is more clear.
"Diesel… are you jealous?"
"Never say that word! Me, a diesel, jealous of a steamie? No chance!"
"Ok ok!" you laugh, scratching his buffers, "Regardless, you could still have your fuel put in your mouth right?"
"Yeah but it's not the same! I-" he looks down at you, eyes shifty before he mutters something that you swore you would've never guess could come out of his mouth.
"I would like to eat with you. Like, munching, or whatever you humans do."
Your heart skip a bit before a warm sensation fills your chest, making you all giddy. Diesel, THE Devious Diesel, wants to eat with you?
Unbelievable. You should've recorded it.
You laugh, which is not the reaction the engine expects.
"Ugh, forget it! You silly human!"
"No no Diesel come back!" you plead with him as he pulls away slightly before stopping, "I'm sorry, i didn't mean it. Thank you."
"For what?" he scoffs, eyes looking at anything but you.
"For your honesty. I would love to eat with you, next time you just have to ask. I don't think it's possible to make your fuel as hard to bite it, it might clog your system...I could ask for a tank of fuel and a straw, it could be like drinking a cocktail? I'll find a way don't worry"
You smile softly at him as a deep red climbs all over his faceplate and nods, all flustered.
You must've done a great job if you've managed to get him out of his comfort zone to open his black heart to you.
"I might as well pat myself on the back."
----
"So… can you give me the biscuit now?"
"Over my dead body Diesel."