One Man's Trash

	“Ten thirteen; he's late again.” Toy Chica sighed to herself before departing the loading dock and making her way toward the security office. Passing along an old dusty mirror, she stopped for a moment to glance at the reflection, before sighing again and moving on.
	She hated what she'd become since her termination from Fazbear's. Hated how faded her once slick polished suit had become; hated all the little cracks and chips and gashes that were left untended to; every one signifying just how far she'd fallen since her glory days. Even her bib was no more, instead replaced with an ancient worn out bandana one of the daytime employees had misplaced long ago. She was so fragile now, and after all that time she'd spent making people laugh and be happy, there only one person left who even bothered to return the favor.
	“Ten fifteen.” she said aloud to no one in particular once again, entering the rundown security office to the warehouse she now called home. Ten to six, that's when he was supposed to be here. That's when all this was supposed to be worth it; when she could feel happy because she made someone else happy; not like the rest of the junk here, she was still better than that. “He'll be here,” she thought to herself, taking a seat on the worn out leather couch in the back corner of the room. “He's just running late again.”
	It was ten minutes later when her companion showed up. Chica wanted to be angry, but more than anything she was relived that she finally had some company.
	“Hey, there you are,” said the night guard, giving her a cheerful smile as if he had done nothing wrong. “I thought you were going to meet me at the back like usual.”
	“You're late again. That's the third time this week.” she replied, getting up and giving him a playful punch on the shoulder. “I got tired of waiting. Figured I'd just come here. So didja bring it this time or what?”
	With a halfhearted shrug he made his way over to the couch and flopped down a little harder than he expected; hearing a snap from within, but unable to identify any damage. “Sorry. I checked all over my place, but I couldn't find any of my old bored-games anywhere. I think I might have sold them all at a yard-sale a few years back and forgotten about it.” While both Chica and the guard enjoyed each others company, it had been several weeks since they started hanging out like this, and as much as either hated to admit it, they were running out of things to do. Unwilling to give in to her dejection over the change of planes, Chica walked back over to the sofa and sat down next to him, taking care not to come down too hard on it and finally break the decrepit thing. “So what'll it be tonight then? Wanna race office chairs down the hall again? Or uh, we can go look and see those new boxes they have stored in the back. Might be something cool in there.”
	“Ya know,” he started, his tone a little more downbeat than she was comfortable with. “We don't have to do anything. I mean,  not always. This is my job after all. I'm supposed to be looking after this place at night. Can't spend all of my time playing games with you, right?” Looking back up to her, he immediately regretted his words. Though she couldn't exactly convey emotions though facial expressions, he had spent long enough around her to know when something was wrong.
	“You don't... I'm not boring you, right?” she spoke worriedly, shrinking away from him as she tried not to betray the panic in her mind. Sensing she was about to get up, he reached out to her and put his hand on her shoulder; doing her best to keep her still while not seeming forceful.
	“What? Hey, calm down. Where's this coming from? This is about you old job, isn't it?”
	She paused, her eyes darting left to right; avoiding eye-contact as she struggled to remain seated. She so desperately wanted to avoid this conversation, but his look of concern and her need to address her feelings gave way to the panic within. Doing her best to calm herself, she let out a sharp hiss, as if exhaling to ease her nerves.
	“It's... about everything. Me being here. People not wanting me anymore. I was supposed to be the fun one, you know? I was the party person. I even had a little sign on my chest. Now I'm just... I don't- I'm useless. That's why I'm here, right? I c-” Whatever it was she was about to say next was immediately cast from her mind as she felt the warm touch of his lips against her cheek.
	“You're not useless,” he spoke, pulling back from her face as she sat completely motionless from shock. “And you're not boring either. Just because we've ran out of ideas to pass the time doesn't mean I still don't want to spend it with you.”
	A moment passed, then another; slowly, the guard began to worry that he had gone too. Now his turn to feel self-conscious, he attempted to pull his hand away from her shoulder, only to be stopped as she placed her palm over his, trapping him in place as she pressed her fingers in between his own.
	“You kissed me.”
	Fumbling for a response, the best he could reply with was a mumbled,“I just... I was- ya know... Sorry.”
	“No. Don't be.” She responded quickly; her voice a little more coy than he had expected to hear. “It was nice. It felt- It was a nice gesture.” As she spoke, he felt her grip around his hand tighten a bit, before loosening her hold and rubbing her thumb up and down the side of his palm.
	“I didn't realize you could, um, feel. I mean, I know you said you had sensors, but...” The guard trailed off, not really sure where he was going with this line of dialog in the first place. In truth, he was very much at a loss of how to respond. The kiss had come about so mindlessly, and this was about the last kind of response he was expecting.
	“Well, it's not quite like how you do. I don't think anyway. But, here.” He felt a tug on his captured hand as she guided it down to where her shoulder-blade would be, before releasing him. The plastic shell was warm and smooth, radiating an inner heat he could only speculate on the origin of. Inside of her the soft vibrations of cooling fans whirred to life as her inner mechanisms did their best to keep her animated.
	“See?” her tone far more calm and collected, juxtaposing her panicked disposition from only a few moments ago. “You're warm, and your skin is soft. Its not like, super precise, but I can gather basic information from touch, same as you. And... I guess it feels nice too. I mean, when you uh...” She paused, then slowly moved her arm around him, placing it on his back as if to mimic his tenuous hold on her. Though the outer layer of her palm was hard and cold to the touch, something about her grip was surprisingly delicate. Moving her fingers down along the ridges of his spine, she stopped when she reached his belt line, and proceed to work her way back up before repeating the process a few more times. “Like that. It's uh, it's nice when you do that. I mean, if you want to.”
	The guard was hesitant, but the way she spoke put him at ease, and as odd as it was, he had to admit there was something very enjoyable about all this. Rubbing his fingers against her smooth plastic exterior, he moved his palm down to the bottom edge of her torso plate, reaching the seam separating it from her pelvis. The two of them continued facing each other on the sofa for some time; motionless, save for the curious advances of each others hands and fingers; sliding palms and fingertips over every hair and bump and ridge they could find. Eventually, Chica found a spot of particular interest as her hand drifted over his chest, and stopped right above his heart. “I've never... You feel so alive, you know? Every little bit is moving and pulsing. It's all so cool.”
	Not quite sure of his own intentions but feeling as if it was the right thing to do, the guard pulled his hand away from her body and placed it over hers; guiding her hand down to his stomach, before slipping their fingers underneath the bottom of his shirt and sliding them back up his chest. Holding her there, above his heart, he moved in again to kiss her; this time not on the cheek, but the mouth. Her lips were rigid and unmoving, but to his satisfaction, she let out an audible gasp as her fingers tightened against him. Pressing his forehead against her own, he wrapped his other arm around her back and held her; content with the simple pleasure of feeling her body close angst his.
	“You're right, you know.” he said, running hand up and down her back; feeling a shiver rush though the length of her inner frame. “This is pretty nice.”
	The white pinprick lights of her eyes centered on him for a moment, as if she was thinking something over. Finally finding her resolve, she pulled away from him; gripping her hand against his chest as if beckoning him to follow her lead as she reclined onto her back. Looking down at her, Chica was splayed out under him; gazing into his eyes with a look of nervous longing he'd never seen in anyone else before.
	“Would you um... I mean-” She glanced down at her chest, and the cloth rag that covered it. He never understood her fascination with that stupid thing, but suddenly found himself excited at the prospect of removing it from her.
	Carefully, he moved his arms around the back of her neck; working his fingers round the tight knot with utmost concentration. Finally getting it undone, he looked down at her one last time, before slipping the fabric apart from the back of her neck and letting it drop to the floor. Her chest was barren, of course; only the vague form of two plastic sculpted lumps giving any indication that there were supposed to be breasts there. To him though, the sight was more than enough. She seemed so bare now that the makeshift top had been removed; it didn't really matter what was under there, just that she had allowed him to expose her like that. Cautiously at first, he cupped his palm over her chest as she had done to him before, and to his surprise, she flinched and closed her eyes; tilting her head up as she stretched her body out under him.
	“Does- Does that feel good?” She nodded in response and shifted where she lay once again; seemingly working herself deeper into the soft cushioning of the couch. “Nobodies ever done this before with me. I never really had this much stimulation. It's... a lot to take in. It's strange, I don't know if I could really tell you why it feels any better there. It's the exact same kind of sensory input as anywhere else, but right now, when you touched me, it was like... I don't know, like a buzz. Something about all this feels so different.”
	“So... You want me to keep going?” he said, before giving her the biggest shit-eating grin he could muster.
	She laughed, and he could tell that if she could express herself she be looking at him like he was an idiot. Groping the elevated mound his hand had been resting on, he decided to change tactic and see just how far they could take this. Lowering his head, he wrapped his lips around the center of her free breast, and ran his tongue over the surface. Hearing a sharp gasp escape her once again, he continued his assault, moving his hands down to the sides of her waist to hold her in place as he moved his focus from one breast to the other. The wet spongy texture of his lips and tongue drove her sensors wild as he slathered her chest with as much licks and kisses as she could take. Moving his focus to the center of her chest, he began working his way down to her stomach; stopping at the line between her torso and pelvic-plate.
	Looking up to her for some kind of assurance, he instead found her gazing blankly up at the ceiling; her one hand tightly gripping the armrest supporting her head while the other dug into the backrest of the sofa. Deciding that was as good a sign as any, he dipped himself lower, moving his head in between her thighs, before planting his lips on her hopefully sensitive crotch-plait. Her joints locked up all throughout her body as his tongue worked its way around her pink pelvis and inner thigh. Though she couldn't place the feeling, something about this was far more intense than even the stimulation from her chest. It was the same input, same data, same texture and temperature; but by god it drove her crazy. The soft delicate kisses, the light flicks of the tip of his tongue, the feeling of suction from his mouth as he ran the hot soft surface of the ever flexing and probing muscle within across the flat patch of plastic the made up her lower regions. Each action rewarding her with an new batch of sensory data; new feelings of warmth and intimacy; more of that strange but wonderful buzz in the back of her mind telling her to keep going and take this all the way.
	“What is all the way?”
	“Uh, wuh?” He looked up, dazed from lust but wondering if she had said anything he ought to know. She looked back down to him; concentrating, as if studying him for some unseen clue. The sudden change in demeanor worried him at first; wondering if he had done something to sour her mood. Finally seeming to have found what she was looking for, she moved her hand down to the back of his head, and with a light tug, she motioned him to come up and join her. Taking one last wistful look at the saliva drenched aria between her legs, he reluctantly complied.
	“Was there something else you wanted to try? I'm not really sure where else there is to go.” he said, giving a halfhearted chuckle as he positioned himself on top of her, still unsure of the new direction this was taking but relishing the feeling of his full body pressed against hers.
	“Undo your pants,” she spoke almost in a whisper, as if making too much noise wold kill the atmosphere and ruin the spell the two of them were under. “I figured out what I have to do.”
	“Figured out? Uh, wait, that doesn’t... I mean, we don have t-” His thoughts were cut off as she started running her hand down his back while the other wrapped around his head; combing through his hair. It was as if she had unlocked some hidden memory or program file deep within the recesses of her mind. His touch against her; the buzzing in her head; the indescribable feeling of closeness between them; it all made sense to her now. “Trust me, okay?”
	Silently, he complied; awkwardly undoing his belt and fly before pulling his pants down to his knees. A visible bulge had formed under his briefs, and the only thing separating the two of them was a thin layer of damp cotton. She moved her hand down beneath them, sliding her fingers under the waistband and clasping his throbbing head in her cool palm. He tensed, and she received a perverse joy from making him squirm like that; now better understanding just how much fun he was having with her earlier.
	If it wasn't for all of his previous activities she might have prolonged this experience, but the two of them had been at this for a while now, and she was in just as much need as him. Pulling the briefs down past his thighs, his member flopped out down onto her waist. She slid her hand down to his rear, giving his cheek a quick squeeze before positioning their bodies as best she could. She understood enough about the mechanics of this; that it just took some friction and stimulation and that his body would do the rest; but her suit was so very hard, and deep down she knew what he really needed was the touch of soft warm flesh. Maybe all of this was a bad idea. She couldn't please him like a real woman could. Suddenly this whole experiment seemed so silly to her. That rush of self doubt and anxiety that had gotten her into all this in the first place was rearing its ugly head once again. But just as last time, before she could do anything rash, he calmed her; planting a kiss on her cheek and affirming his feelings for her one last time.
	“You look so beautiful right now, you know that?”
	She couldn't actually blush, but something about her face told him that she was. Wordlessly, she pressed him down against herself, and he began to grind his aching member against her crotch and inner thigh. It didn't matter to him that there wasn't really anything there, just as it didn't matter that he didn't really grope her breasts, or that he didn't really eat her out, or that she didn't really just blush right now. As far as he was concerned, she did. It was real because they made it real. Her body felt amazing, and it didn't matter what the texture or density of it was; it felt great because it was her.
	For her part, Chica seemed to be in a world of her own. Her tight grip around him was constantly punctuated with and endless stream of gasping moans and subtle twinges that constantly reenforced his motion against her. As much as the guard needed this to end, he was still wary of actually sealing the deal. Right on the edge and desperately staving off his inevitable release, he looking down at her for some kind of reassurance; her pinprick white eyes returning his gaze.
	“P- Please, I need it. Don't hold out on me, I can feel it.” That was all he needed. With a shudder, all of his muscles tensed around her. She could feel it in him; the wait was finally over. His member pulsed and ruptured against her as he spurt out hot white fluid onto her stomach. She cried out as he did it again and again, over and over; each time bringing all new feelings of joy and satisfaction as he coated her outer shell. After a few more discharges, she repositioned him so that he shot his last few weak loads directly onto her crotch plate, dead center of where she needed it most. The feeling drover her crazy; with every new spurt came a sensation more wonderful and intense than anything she had ever known before. All she could do was clench her teeth and hold him tight as the two of them rode out their mutual orgasms.
	 Eventually the feeling dulled, and the guard's body slowly came to rest over hers as the moment between them passed. The wonderful aching buzzing in Chica's mind finally subsided, giving way to a sort of calm tranquility.
	“So.” The guard chided, breaking the silence between them and somewhat spoiling his partner's afterglow. “Still wanna go check out if there's anything cool in the new shipments after this?” As he spoke, he rolled himself to the inner side of the sofa, maintaining a tight grip around his lover's body while doing so. She laughed, playfully pushing away from him a bit before relenting to his hold. “Shush. Shut up, you goof. If you go anywhere now I won't help you clean up this mess later.” Easing him onto his back, she rested her head on his chest and closed her eyes. For the first time in a while, Chica didn't feel like junk. So she was a little beat up and worn out, there really was someone out there who cared about her regardless of any of that, and just knowing that was the best feeling she'd experienced all night.