"Spike, where have you-- oh, goodness."
Twilight wrapped the totally-not-sobbing dragon in her magic field and gave him a hug.
"Tell me everything that happened."
"Sh-she-she-she doesn't l-like me..."
The purple pony princess sighed. She knew, eventually, the day would come where Rarity would deny his appreciation and love for her, but holy shit, Rares, how about you take a second to chill your back red fountain before giving you this purple sphere of tears and broken dreams?
"Oh, Spike, I didn't know how to tell you, but a relationship between a pony and dragon just wo--"
The dragon pushed back, splitting apart the hug faster than it took to create.
"No! It's not even about the love thing! It's the fact that she just doesn't care at ALL about me! I'm pretty sure I could replace her welcome mat with my body, and she wouldn't even notice!"
Spike stormed upstairs, denying the protest of the alicorn, and slammed the door. He was alone in his room, once again. Issues of Power Ponies long forgotten were swept up and neatly stacked into a large suitcase. He was sick and tired of it all. No more Rarity. No more being shielded by Twilight. No more chores or unnecessary work; I pick my own god damn path now.
Spike finally came downstairs, interrupting a conversation between Twilight and a now deeply saddened Rarity. Rain still swept across the windows, leaving a somber mood to everyone involved. When Rarity saw the suitcase, she gasped, but Twilight simply looked hurt.
"Spike...what are you doing?"
His nostrils flared as if it was an insult to even ask the question.
"I'm sick of being some sidekick comic relief built to make your lives easier. I'm out. Bailing. Abandoning the thread. Purging the infidels. DONE."
And with that, he opened the door, with both of the ponies yelling not to leave behind him. His response was to slam the door.
"Alright, Spike-- time for an adventure."
His thoughts of bravery and triumph were interrupted by the cold splash of rain...right. He hadn't considered shelter. Or food. Or a source of income. The weight of his most recent choices began to hit him like a ton of bricks. He was alone. No support at all now, and Twilight would be so mad, she wouldn't take him back. She'd lock him up, banish him, or even lock him up in the place--
No. He couldn't think about such trivial things like that. He needed to find a place to lay low for a bit.
Sweet Apple Acres? Nah, Applejack would rat him out. Honesty and all that.
Fluttershy's Cottage? She wouldn't bear to hide him, and her house smells like bear crap anyways.
Cloudominium? He can't exactly walk on clouds.
Carousel Bou-- NO.
That left...well, it left Sugarcube Corner, but it was a business. Spike sighed; he would have to sleep in the back of it, under a dumpster or something. As he walked, he took a moment to admire how utterly screwed he was, and how little sense his metal plotline made. Why would he leave his house just because a pony (who looks more like a marshmallow, to be honest) said she didn't feel the same way? Somehow, though, he knew this was for the better. Where would he be if he sat there doing chores for Twilight all his life? Nowhere, that's where.
Just as he was satisfied, his luck turned towards the better-- in the back of Sugarcube was, indeed, a ceiling platform of cardboard. He grinned as he found an abandoned blanket inside it as well. As Spike lied down, he thought everything could get better from here, and dozed off to sleep...
And was swiftly kicked in the stomach. He woke up with a pained grunt; it was even later into the night, probably midnight or such. In front of him was a familiar small orange filly with a deep purple mane.
"Dude, not cool. I only left for like two hours."
"S-Scootaloo? What are you doing around..."
Spike began to connect the dots; an "abandoned" blanket and box fortress in decent condition? He was an idiot.
"Oh...sorry. I guess I just thought nobody...you know...lived here."
"Gee, thanks. Mind getting out of my house now?"
Spike stopped himself from giving Scootaloo a sick burn on what a house qualifies as and tried to explain his situation. As she listened, Scootaloo began to nod as her bored expression turned into one of sadness, until her nods slowed down to a crawl.
"Spike...I can't believe you felt that way."
He snorted, a small burst of smoke exiting. "Well, I did. Since you're so kind to understand, I'll leave now."
"No, no!" Scootaloo burst out a bit too quickly. "You can stay here...with me...oh, jeez, that sounds kind of weird."
"This whole situation is weird." Both of them laughed for a second as Scootaloo shuffled up, connecting to Spike's belly and closing her eyes. On the opposite end, the dragon's eyes widened.
"Uh..."
"What? Never heard of spooning before?"
"It's not that, I've just never done it with anyone except Twilight when I had nightmares. And, uh, you're kinda on my body."
"Well yeah, that's how it works."
"No, I mean ON my BODY."
"Wh...oh, OH."
After slight positioning, the pair finally laid down in a more comfortable and non-revealing spot.
"Night, Spike."
"Night, Scoots."
And with that, they dozed off into the midst of the night.
Spike and Scootaloo had no idea how it really happened; the theory was that at one point, Scootaloo turned over in her sleep, Spike instinctively held on to her, and by the time they woke up, their tongues were in each other's mouths. Either way, they went with it, and after a few minutes, Spike had to break the slip-and-slide of saliva to take a breath.
"That was..." Scootaloo looked away, looking more red than she was orange.
"Yeah." Spike was just looking at the pressed down fur on her chest; he couldn't even bear to look at her face.
It was incredibly silent in the makeshift half-room. Then they looked at each other, and even the breathing in the background stopped. Then she pulled him even closer, their mouths mashing again in unorganized chaos. Spike couldn't help but laugh in between the momentary moans that the filly was experiencing.
"Well, looks like somebody wants this."
Scootaloo nodded quickly, slipping her right front and back legs over.
"Wait, what are you doing?"
"Getting on top, dummy!"
"Uh...don't you think that'd be a bit awkward?" She responded with a kiss on his nose and taking a rough, low grind of their chests together.
"If this is awkward, then I want it to be as awkward as possible~"
Spike was absolutely speechless by her intimate skill, but an urging fire inside egged him on, and without a single thought saying no, he kissed back, and so did she, and the night became a bit brighter as the rain began to slow.