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There was no surprise on who would win the race. No arguments, no debates, no banter. Everyone collectively agreed silently that Greaseball would be the surefire victor of tonight’s race. And yet, the crowd still exploded in cheers and applause as Greaseball and Dinah rolled through the finish line with a pretty sizable gap between them and second place. The spectators in the stands near them jumped up and screamed as they passed, waving and shouting to the racing duo. Cameras flashed in every direction, almost blinding the engine as she started her lap of honor. She rolled down the track, arms out to wave at the crowd and following cameras. She heard the coach coupled behind her laughing, one hand wrapped around her waist in a half-embrace and the other waving.Again, it was no surprise who would win the race. Greaseball had hundreds of wins under her belt, and yet… they still partied like it was her first. Granted, it was practically mandatory for the winner’s sponsors to hold a celebratory party, with food and music and lots of booze. Greaseball liked the booze and food part. But the people? Not so much. Sure, she was the Greaseball. The greatest Union Pacific engine history has ever seen. She worked her way to the top from nothing, growing up abandoned in a scrap yard and having to build herself up race by race. She used her dashing smile and striking appearance to her advantage, earning sponsors and brand deals by her charm alone. Learning how to interact socially was literally a main reason she was who she is today. And yet, why did she hate every second of this stupid party?Better yet, how did she even get here?After the race, the engine and coach were immediately whisked off to an interview. Greaseball usually liked getting asked all these questions and being complimented with all the awe and glory, but today it felt smothering. She did most of the talking, she always did as the engine. Dinah would respond if asked a question directly but mainly sat next to Greaseball with a loving smile on her face. In more recent post-race interviews, it's been her goal to make Dinah flustered at least once with a compliment on her racing form or flirtatious joke, leading to an embarrassed dining car and paparazzi eating it up. Tonight’s interview was no different than the others. Greaseball answered questions, made Dinah successfully blush and swoon in front of the cameras, and struck a few more poses with her trophy (and trophy girlfriend) for the flashing cameras.Now here she sat, sinking into a leather couch and manspreading like mad, schmoozing with the other racers with a beer in hand and a charming smirk across her face. A random French coach was cuddling up on her right, another foreign engine raising an identical beer in a toast to her victory. The two clinked bottles, downing the bitter contents. All the sound and other conversations were muffled around her. Maybe it was her boredom, maybe it was her exhaustion, or maybe it was the eight beers and two shots of vodka she had downed that made her feel so out of it. Greaseball was infamous for her ability to drink anyone under the table; stating that her engine ran too hot that it burned right through the majority of alcoholic drinks before it reached her system.No matter the cause; she did not want to be there. But she didn’t let it show. She was Greaseball! The fast, cocky, headstrong, champion diesel engine! She wouldn’t let some discomfort or stupid feelings stop her from showing off how awesome she was, even if she didn’t feel it. She couldn’t show how much this party blew; how much she would rather be in bed with her face resting on two heavenly pillows known as Dinah’s tits. She barely knew anyone; the ones she did know in different wings of the party, probably doing something similar to what she was doing now. It was just her, and her alone.“So Greaseball…” She looked up, making eye contact with this heavyweight coal truck sitting across from her. He was one of her bigger sponsors, and also one of her worst. He was an old bigwig with an old-school engine/coach mindset, one that had influenced Greaseball for years before she had some sense knocked into her by Momma and Dinah. “Glad to see you bounced right back after that frankly embarrassing loss to that rusted steam engine a few months back.” He snickered, taking a long swig of whatever top-shelf champagne he had brought over with him. Greaseball felt an uncomfortable chill run up her spine, and she held back the flush that threatened to turn her face red. Hold it in.She chuckled back, nodding her head. “Thank you, sir..” Hoping he’d drop the conversation, the diesel turned away to wink at the coach next to her, wishing it was Dinah instead. The French car, more than a little tipsy, giggled and leaned in. Greaseball gulped. She tried shuffling away, a bead of sweat running down her temple. She needed to get out of there and fast. “I was thinking, what if we-…” he started to rattle off about some brand deal that she frankly couldn’t care to listen to. But also the noise in the room, mixed with her growing anxiety made it so that she couldn’t hear him even if she wanted to. Everything was getting far too overwhelming. The lights were blaring, the music far too loud. People were too close; the coach was touching her and she focused all her concentration on not tossing her off and running away in a panic. Her pistons pumped and her heart thumped against her chassis. Her chest felt tight, and it was as if she couldn’t breathe.Just as she was about to say ‘fuck it’ and escape, a very familiar and comforting scent of baked goods and vanilla flooded her senses. A new body sat her one of her spread thighs, wrapping around her arms and leaning against her chest. The French coach, taken aback, let go and leaned back against the arm of the couch. Dinah perched herself on Greaseball’s thigh, draping her arms on Greaseball’s shoulders and smiling at her. “Di…” Greaseball mumbled, a thankful smile across her lips. “Hey baby.” Dinah smiled back, kissing her cheek. The bigwig behind them chuckled, muttering some (probably classist) joke that the two chose to ignore. Dinah leaned into her girlfriend’s ear.
“Let’s head home, okay?”
Greaseball took in a deep breath of air and nodded. “Welp.” She wrapped an arm around Dinah’s waist, slapping her thigh with a sigh. “The little lady’s getting partied out; think it’s time I take her home.” She chuckled, standing up with a grunt and holding Dinah close to her. The dining coach feigned a yawn, dramatically leaning her head on Greaseball’s shoulder and fluttering her eyelashes. The coal truck nodded. He let out another disgusting laugh, taking a swig of his drink. “Guess we know who wears the trousers, huh?” he spat. Dinah felt Greaseball’s hand clench tighter on the flesh of her waist. She squeezed back. “I’ll see you later, sweetheart.” Greaseball winked at the French coach, who flushed as she giggled, waving goodbye. The two left connected at the hip, maneuvering through the crowd while saying short goodbyes to those who passed them.The two finally made it outside. It was cool out, enough to make Dinah shiver at the sudden warmth leaving her. Greaseball let out a large, exasperated sigh as they rolled out into the night, hand in hand. They wordlessly made their way down the track, rolling through quiet sheds and the empty racetrack. The only sound was the rustling of the leaves as the wind blew against trees and bushes. It was late, probably past midnight. Lamp posts lit their path as the two traveled through the station and towards Greaseball’s shed.The diesel engine cleared her throat, giving a quick squeeze to Dinah’s hand. “Uh… thank you…” she mumbled, looking down at her wheels. Her girlfriend quietly chuckled, leaning sideways to tap her shoulder against Greaseball’s. “You’re welcome my love.” They rolled up to the front door, Dinah rummaging in her pocket to pull out a spare key and unlocking the door, pulling her girlfriend in with her.“How are you feeling?” she asked as flicked on some of the light switches, shrugging off her coat and taking Greaseball’s off her shoulders. The engine sighed, slightly stumbling to the side as she made her way to the sofa. Dinah’s hands were on her in a second, guiding her to lay on the couch. “I… I’m okay….” She slurred, voice muffled in the couch cushions. Dinah rubbed her back, snickering at the little sounds of approval Greaseball made at the gesture. “Are you hungry? Did you eat anything at the party?” the dining car leaned down to speak softly in her ear. Greaseball nodded her head. “Mhm…”Everything felt so hazy and spinny. Keeping her face pressed into the couch was the only way Greaseball could stop the room from spinning. Yet, despite all the senses melting together into one, she still felt the touch of Dinah’s dainty fingers combing through her hair, scratching her scalp and pressing a soft kiss against her ear. “Why don’t I get you to bed, okay?” she heard her coach whisper, feeling hands go under her arms and lifting her chest up off the cushions. Greaseball whined. “My head feels funny…” Dinah chuckled at her grumble. “You’re drunk, love. Had a little too much fun?” she asked, helping her stand. Greaseball shook her head and hung her head. “Not fun… you were… gone… too many people an’ noises and lights… wanted to be… with you.”Dinah’s eyes widened. She blushed, a giddy feeling running through her wires. She knew Greaseball was never the talkative type, especially when it came to feelings. “I’m sorry love.” She rubbed her back, pulling her towards the bedroom. Dinah sat Greaseball on the bed, smiling as her girlfriend looked up to her with puppy-dog eyes. She giggled, squishing her cheeks together with her hands and pressing her lips on her nose. Greaseball squirmed, groaning. Dinah relented, moving to start taking off Greaseball’s racing uniform. “Hey… why you tryin’ to get me naked, huh?” Greaseball chuckled, hand going to loosely wrap around Dinah’s tiny wrist. “To get you in bed, nothing else.” The engine whined again. “Just that? Nooooo…. I wanna fuck..” she led Dinah’s hand back to her chest, pressing her palm against her breast. Dinah squeaked, her face turning bright red. “G-Greaseball!” she pulled her hand away. “No, no!” she slapped her tipsy girlfriend’s hand.“No sex, no touching… like that.” She frowned, watching as the engine whined, flopping against the bed in a mini tantrum. “Listen… if you’re a good girl, maybe when you sober up tomorrow we can… y’know” Dinah leaned over Greaseball, nose pressing against hers. Greaseball’s eyes widened, a goofy grin spreading on her face as she giggled excitedly. She pushed herself back up, holding her arms up in the air. Dinah laughed, shaking her head. “Goofball.” She smiled, grabbing the end of Greaseball’s plating and hoisting it over her head and through her arms.She stripped her loopy girlfriend down to her sports bra and boxer shorts, shoving down Greaseball’s weak attempts at trying to return the favor for Dinah. “Stay still.” She grumbled, shoving a sweatshirt over Greaseball’s head and feeding her arms through the sleeves. Pausing, Dinah sighed as Greaseball fumbled with straightening out the sleeves of her sweater. “Hey Greaseball?” she asked, pulling her legs up to sit on the bed next to her. Greaseball hummed, heavy eyes looked up to face her.Dinah took her face gently in her hands. “I love you.” She smiled. Her girlfriend cocked her head to the side. She gulped, a faint blush rising in her already rosy cheeks. “I uhm…” she coughed, looking to the side. “I love you too…” Greaseball’s eyes traveled up to make a shaky eye contact with Dinah. She took in a deep breath, moving her hands up to hold Dinah’s. “I really love you.” Pushing back, Dinah squealed in surprise as Greaseball pushed them back onto the bed. She caged the coach’s body under her, straddling her hips. Now it was Dinah’s turn to look up at her, with large round eyes that were so beautiful that Greaseball swore they could end wars. Dinah bit her quivering lip. “Are you sure?” she asked. Greaseball scoffed. “Think I’m jokin’?” she asked back, leaning down and attaching her lips to Dinah’s neck, kissing and biting softly at her plush skin.Dinah stifled a moan, wrapping her arms around Greaseball’s neck and embracing her tightly. “I love you too darling.” She sighed, feeling Greaseball roll them over so she lay atop her chest. “Go get changed, wanna sleep..” Greaseball mumbled against her neck. Dinah nodded, going to get up, but realized the diesel’s arms were still tightly wrapped around her. “Honey, you’re gonna have to let go first.” She chuckled, earning a playful whine from the engine under her. She didn’t budge though. The dining car groaned and pried Greaseball’s hands off her, pushing off the bed to roll over to her dresser.Even in Greaseball’s not-so-completely conscious state, she still managed to let out a flirtatious growl as Dinah unhooked her bra, extending her hands out and making grabby hands. The coach rolled her eyes, ignoring her girlfriend as she slipped on one of Greaseball’s shirts. “Scooch over.” She pushed Greaseball lightly to her side of the bed, getting under the blankets to lay next to her. As soon as she hit the pillow, Greaseball attacked.The diesel engine dove down, her face immediately colliding with Dinah’s chest. She let out a long sigh of relief, snuggling into her girlfriend’s boobs. Dinah rolled her eyes and wrapped her arms around the diesel. Her hand migrated to resume combing Greaseball’s hair.It had only been about thirty minutes since they escaped the party. From loud noises, tight spaces, bright lights, and no Dinah to peaceful quiet, room to breathe, darkness, and finally laying in her favorite spot, Greaseball couldn’t be happier.She didn’t need a party, or a trophy, or all the cheering.If Dinah was next to her, it was more than enough.