Extra Chapter: Through Every Kind of Weather
Sleep. Every mare wants it, needs it, and most value their disposition, appearance, and possibly the safety of everypony around them enough to maintain a consistent schedule. Those that shrug the last point typically attempt to compensate by increasing the duration of their somnolence, but sleep can be a double edged sword. Too much, and one may feel like they’ve received too little, and the negligence of proper rest will still yield moody, disagreeable mares with a scattered chance of violence, and that’s not to speak of what some poor mare may feel like if steeped deep in alcohol withdrawal. In short? Berry was the epitome of miserable.
Waking with a groan and not bothering to look at the clock, knowing that it was at least mid afternoon, she covered a hoof to shield her eyes from the sunlight that wasn’t there and lay helplessly as she was met with a mind that wouldn’t stop racing and a stomach that would gladly engage of copious upheavals should she attempt something so silly as consumption of anything more solid than a smoothie. In her heart, she knew that every bit of pain and discomfort that was wracking her body was entirely worth it, the sheer bliss at finally finding a pony she could give herself to without fear of abandonment outweighing anything her body could throw at her, but that didn’t stop the insomnia, profuse sweating not befitting a mare, the nausea that was currently at risk of initiating dry heaves, nor the splitting headache that would trump any hangover in recent memory without contest.
“Hey, you’re awake.” The voice was gentle, caring, full of love, and utterly aggravating, leading Berry to come to terms with what was, perhaps, the worst part of abstinence: emotional instability bordering clinical bipolarity. Snowdrift was as kind, considerate, and encouraging as any mare could possibly hope for, and yet, at just that simple greeting, she could feel a tension in her hoof that wasn’t the shakes, but rather an urge to become an object of blunt force. Determined not to delve into that path, recalling the hour or so she had spent sobbing after the last time she slipped, Berry chose rather to use Snowdrift’s chest as a muffler and have herself a bit of primal scream therapy.
“Yikes... it hasn’t gotten any better? It’s nearly been two weeks...”
“I... know...” she grit out, despising the anger laced within the statement and burying her face once more, determined to get a handle on herself. She took a deep breath, and Snowdrift braced himself for further screams, but rather received an anguished sigh, followed by a totally unexpected, though quite pleasant, smooch. Snowdrift grunted a little as his wings attempted to unfold, and he held her in place for a few more seconds as she tried to pull away before letting go, careful training allowing him to maintain a normal breathing pace despite the pain. “Sorry, that was selfish...”
“Eh... not really. Misery loves company, right?” Oh, buck, that was the wrong thing to say. “My turn to apologize,” he murmured, drawing her close as uncharacteristic sobbing soaked his chest with tears. “That was pretty thoughtless of me. I know you’d never make me suffer just to make yourself feel better.”
“No, but if my bucking mind had a face I’d break it!” she shouted, pulling away in a rage. “Do you know what it’s like, never being able to get a good night’s rest, never knowing what your feelings are gonna do, and living in constant fear of losing both your temper and anything that may be residing within your stomach?!?”
“Hmmm, no, can’t say I have. I’m not a mare.” Snowdrift couldn’t help but laugh a little as she growled, amused and offended at the same time. “Come on, you know it was funny.”
“No. It was.”
“Oh, come on, it... wait, what?”
“Exactly what I said.”
“Hey, at least you’ve lost a little...”
“Don’t even go there. Don’t you bucking go there, Snowdrift. I’m not in the mood.”
“Then why’d you start things?”
“...go get me soda.”
“Awww, but...”
“Go. Now.” Her tone of voice made it clear she was not kidding, did not find his jibes funny, and was, in her own desperate way, she was trying to spare him the wrath that was boiling just below the surface.
“Soda. Gotcha,” Snowdrift replied, speaking softly and kissing the tip of her muzzle before rolling off the bed and trotting to the fridge, where he found himself having his own conflict. Shoot, which one? One incorrect beverage and it’s all over. Butterscotch, maple, or peach... Judging by her tone of voice, he wagered he had just under sixty seconds with which to make a choice and throw himself at her mercy, with only a thirty-three percent chance of survival. A bead of sweat dripped down his muzzle as he became consciously aware of the ticking of a nearby clock, and glancing back towards the room, he made his selection and cantered back with a mug. A hoof snatched it away, and he sat patiently awaiting his sentence.
“Every time...” Snowdrift allowed himself an audible sigh of relief that, yet again, he had managed to postpone his inevitable demise for an indeterminate amount of time. “Sit with me, please...” Her voice was quiet as she gently patted the space beside her, staring at her mug of peach soda. “How did you know I wanted this?” Snowdrift took a seat beside her, draping a wing around her shoulder and a hoof around her waist.
“When you started screaming, I felt damp after you pulled away. If you’re sweating that bad, I figured you had to be feeling pretty warm, so I thought something a little extra cold might help.”
“Incredible,” she murmured, bestowing the highest honor she could upon the stallion she was, to be fair, treating with far less gratitude than she should be: a smile. I’m sure many a stallion would spend as little time around me as possible, the way I’ve been acting, but Snowdrift just won’t leave me alone. And despite all the grief I give him, if it weren’t for his constant support, I’d... I don’t know how I’d get through this. A genuine, heartfelt smile and a gentle hoof over his leg was all Snowdrift needed to find the strength necessary to weather the storm, one that was nearly over. “Let’s get the test done tomorrow. And, regardless of how it turns out, I’ll... find a way to repay you for these last two weeks.”
“You could repay me now.” She gave him an exasperated, glazed over look that bid him clarify. “I just meant another kiss. I think I’d worry about you... I don’t know, biting me, or something if we tried that right now.”
“The fact that you want it at all makes you a masochist, you know.” Ouch, that was low...
“Hmmm, I guess that’d make you the sadist, then.”
“I don’t own a whip, but I sure could give you a good beating...” Grrr, I deserved that, but...
“I bet you’d look good in a corset.”
Say what? There’s no bucking way I’d ever... ugh, no. “I’ll put you in a corset...”
“Kinky.”
“Get out of here, Snowdrift.”
“What, so you can get all dressed up? I just wanted a kiss, remember?”
“No, seriously, leave.”
“Oh. Nope, sorry.”
“Your stallionhood is forfeit if you are still within visual range after I count to five! One!”
“Three.”
“Two!”
“Forty-eight!”
“Three!”
“Four!”
“Four!”
“Six!”
“Seven! Wait, I... ugh, bucking stallion!”
“I am?” Snowdrift quipped, grinning widely as Berry gave him a withering scowl. “I’m pretty sure I’d know if I was. After all, I’m a masochist.”
“You... you just... I...”
“I love you too, Berry,” he chuckled, laying her down gently and drawing her close. “You can spank me if you must, but I’m staying with you, happy, sad, or full-blown psycho mare rage.”
“Gee, you sure know how to make me feel special...” she muttered, snuggling closer and letting slip a soft sigh. “Thank you... Really, thank you...” Her inner chaos calmed as a gentle nuzzling against her cheek brought a warmth not to be despised to her chest, and she closed her eyes, hoping that maybe, just maybe she could find rest in the arms of her stallion. Another sigh escaped her lips as Snowdrift’s hoof ran the length of her mane, the nurturing motion setting her nausea and headache to flight, and Snowdrift couldn’t stop an affectionate smile from creeping to his lips as he was rewarded not with a kiss, but the soft snores of an exhausted fillyfriend.
“Nurse Redheart?” She looked up from the desk as Nurse Softheart approached, her dire expression speaking volumes. As great a nurse as she was, Softheart couldn’t bear being the one to deliver bad news, and Redheart accepted the folder in silence, flipping it open and gasping softly as she read the report. “I... I just can’t...”
“It’s ok, Softheart. Are they here right now?” She nodded, pointing down the hallway.
“Room 12b.”
“Alright, just watch the front and calm down a little, ok? I’ll... go tell them.” Life is sometimes very cruel. For a pegasus to be robbed of flight is, to some, enough to question whether or not to continue living, but to add this on top of that... It’s simply too much, even for me. Stopping outside the door, she closed her eyes and took a few deep breaths, steeling her nerves as she prepared to deliver what was, even to her, soul-crushing news at best. As Redheart entered, the pegasi couple stared at her with pleading eyes, and the closing of the door behind felt to her how she imagined being held in the Canterlot dungeons might feel.
“So... what’s the problem?” Cloudburn asked, doing her best to sound hopeful even as Nurse Redheart made little effort to conceal her discomfort.
“I’m... afraid I have some bad news...” It was the most dreaded phrase she ever had to speak, and Cloudburn’s reaction was the worst she’d seen in a long time. She didn’t even have time to explain before the mare leapt from the bed and bolted from the room, the pain evident in her eyes that had already begun to flow. Redheart dropped her gaze, unable to look at the dark blue pegasus stallion standing with a hoof placed over where his fillyfriend had been sitting just a moment before.
“Take a few moment to collect yerself if ye need ‘em, lass. What’s written in that folder won’t change between now and then.” Silent Gale’s voice was, for once, devoid of any kind of excitement or joviality. There was no room for mirth, as whatever was the cause, he knew the end result even before Redheart spoke them in a wavering, repentant tone, as if it were some fault of hers.
“I’m sorry, Gale. The trauma from whatever accident maimed both your wings and hers is likely at fault, but... Cloudburn is infertile. There’s... there’s not a single suitable egg left. They were damaged... quite badly.” The stallion nodded slowly, conveying no visible emotion.
“I don’t understand, nurse, how the pony with the least damage to ‘er wings could have somethin' like this happen.”
“Perhaps... the lightning struck her in the chest, or lower, I cannot say for sure.”
“It doesn’t really matter then, does it?” Gale said quietly, dropping his gaze to the ground as Redheart nodded.
“I’d suggest an egg donor, but the fact is that it’s not just the eggs that were damaged. Even were a foal concieved via a donor, she would almost definitely miscarry, and...”
“That’s enough, nurse,” he managed, nearly choking on the words. “I’ve heard... all I need t’ hear. Thank ye for yer time.” Redheart left without a word while Gale scrambled to pick up the pieces of his calm, knowing that what remained of the afternoon would be spent comforting a grieving fillyfriend. Cramming down his pain, he forced a neutral expression and almost lost it trying to leave the building, Softheart’s empathy laden glance nearly tipping him over the edge. Cloudburn was his number one priority, and with that in mind, he scanned the immediate vicinity, found no trace of her, and made straight for home.
“My dear lass... yer...” Gale couldn’t finish the statement as he heard the sobs even before he set hoof in the door. Cloudburn had talked about starting a family, not out of any petty desire to match Storm and Rainbow Dash in some bizarre form of rivalry, but a heartfelt longing to have a shot at raising a child in an environment that wasn’t suppressive at best, and violently oppressive at the worst. And now, with a single fateful message, they both had that dream wrenched away.
Gale made it to bed and collapsed next to Cloudburn, drawing her close as he let down the walls and made Cloudburn the first of any of his friends to see him cry. What comfort could be found? Their grief was just, and they let it come. Gale’s desire to raise a “proper swashbuckler” was just as strong as her own, if not more so, and it showed as he cast aside his strength for a moment of barren weakness. After quite some time, the tears began to subside, mostly due in part to their bodies’ inability to produce any more, but Gale still cringed as he heard Cloudburn's anguish-laden voice.
“There’s... there’s really... no chance, is there?” Gale could only shake his head, squeezing a little tighter. “I never... imagined I’d lose so much from one stupid mistake... In the end, I guess I’m not... not the luckiest one of us...”
“Nopony... left that day without their fair share o’ scars, lass...” Gale murmured, desperate to restore himself so he could be a shelter to his mare. “If it makes ye feel any better, I think ye may ‘ave been playin’ with a toy cannon this whole time, if ye catch my meanin’.”
“Still packs a punch...” she laughed, short lived though it was. “Tell me what she said...” Gale explained as plainly as he could, choosing lay it all out straight rather than beat around the bush. Cloudburn sat stonefaced through it all, and as he wrapped up, she closed her eyes and bowed her head to his chest. “If... you wanted to... to find somepony else, I’d...”
“Make a damn fool o’ yerself if ye dare finish that statement, Cloudburn.” Seeing Gale cry was harrowing enough, but as she pulled away, she couldn’t say if it was scarier than the cold fury burning in his eyes. “I’m hurt, Cloudburn, that ye’d even think o’ suggestin’ that I’d up and abandon ship just because ye can’t carry me child. If ye think I’m that kind o’ pony, that I only spend every night sharin’ yer bed, holding you close, an’ givin’ all that this sorry excuse for a pegasus can give just because I want a child, then yer not the lass I thought ye were.”
“I’m... I’m sorry, Gale.” Unable to meet his gaze, she rolled away, her shoulders quaking as a terrifying helplessness and fear of losing even what she had left crept into her heart, but like a light in the dark, Silent Gale shed his rage in exchange for tender affection.
“Even if ye weren’t, Cloudburn, I’d stick by ye anyways.” Cloudburn slowly turned back towards him to find healing in his calm gaze and warmth in the hoof placed over her cheek. “Don’t ye know... that a captain always goes down with ‘is vessel? No matter where the wind blows us, Cloudburn, I’ll be there until the very last voyage.”
“Promise?”
“Aye, on me honor, Cloudburn.” She melted into his embrace, finding a few fragments of hope amongst her shattered dreams, and as the overwhelming fatigue began to set in, Gale turned her eyes to new horizons, ones where dreams may yet come true. “I don’t need an answer right this moment, an’ I’m well aware o’ how sudden it is to be askin’ this, but... how would ye feel about adoption?”
“Yes.” Her answer was instantaneous, and Gale inwardly sighed with relief, her fervor for being a parent still perfectly synchronized with his own. “I know it’s selfish to want what I can’t have, but... we could change some little pony’s life forever. I... don’t know how good a job I’ll do, and I’m sure that my patience is going to need some work...”
“Aye, ye’ve got a fiery temperament at times, that’s fer certain. You sure ye could handle two little pirates runnin’ around here?”
“Would I have it any other way?”
“Good, I’ll talk t’ the mayor within the week.”
“Wait, what? You’ve already found somepony?” Cloudburn exclaimed, not sure whether to be upset she hadn’t been told or elated that there was somepony Gale had taken a shine to.
“Oh aye. Would ye like t’ meet him?”
“Not tonight... I’d... rather have a day or two to come to terms with everything.”
“Ye read my mind, lass. Can ye tell what I’m thinkin’ now?” he teased, leering at the mare and running a hoof across her side, bringing it to a rest just above her flanks.
“Hmmm, well, I’d guess you’re thinking about waving your toy cannon around and shouting nonsense.” Cloudburn couldn’t help but have a short laugh at the stallion’s expense, though maintaining a hurt expression was difficult when one simply treasured the other pony’s laughter over one’s own feelings. “I suppose you could take this vessel for a ride. I trust you’re well enough to steer?”
“Aye... thank ye, Cloudburn. I love ye dearly.” Cloudburn paused, smiling through the pain at the one who she knew would pull her through it, one day at a time.
“Captain’s always do have a strange fascination with their ships,” she murmured, pressing closer and stroking his chest. “I love you too, Gale. I’ll never... say anything that could make you doubt that again... But for now, let’s set sail on a little love cruise.”
It would be difficult to adequately describe the elation within a certain brain-dead stallion as he let eloquence drip from his tongue like honey. Smoother than the finest silk, Freefall was in his element as he dropped his voice to a tone so sultry, colts would turn colt-cuddler and fillyfooler would only want to fool with one stallion, fixing the object of his affection in a distant gaze as he unleashed a torrent of mushy praise. Unfortunately, his pillow found the whole experience rather tiresome, being neither pony nor half as sentient as the strange stallion seemed to be giving it credit for, but as Freefall’s eyes burned with triumph, it decided that it could get used to hearing the sweet nothings and, in some cases, blush worthy advances.
However, what stallion wouldn’t be stoked to have somepony who was, to them, the epitome of rapturous beauty, ask them over to the tavern to discuss “something special?” Freefall had suffered from a fear of commitment that barred him from giving in to his rather ample desires, but Bangles had quite nicely shattered such inhibitions to dust, scattering them with a gentle word, and he wrapped up his oration with a flourish, bestowing a gratuitous, open mouthed kiss to his trusty pillow, unaware he had an audience of one and, admittedly, a little too steeped in his fantasy to rightly call it “practice.” Applebloom stepped in and chided him gently with the voice of reason.
“That’s disgustin’, Freefall!” A short yelp preceded a thunderous crash as the stallion found himself on his back, spitting lint and glad it was only Applebloom that had seen him. “Ah can appreciate the fact that you wanna learn t’ talk nice t’ yer mare, but fer the sake of decency, keep yer tongue away from our pillows? Ain’t no amount o’ water gonna be enough t’ get that outta mah mind.”
“It’s not like I woke up this morning planning on making out with my pillow, you know,” he countered, fairly sure he was still outclassed in wits with a nearly half his age. It was depressing, but it made him want to win that much more. “Someday, you’ll be able to appreciate a good sense of romance.”
“Ah don’t think ah’ll ever compliment a colt on ‘ow nicely he kisses a dirty cotton sack,” she replied in a droll tone, smiling widely as Freefall showed a rare bout of wisdom and didn’t attempt a comeback. “Ah’m just bein’ a pain. Yer welcome t’ be as pervy as ya like, so long as ah don’t see it or hear it. Ah was just gonna say that you’d best get over to the tavern if yer gonna talk t’ Bangles before the whole place is packed full o’ thirsty, hungry ponies.”
“How’d you know about that?”
“Gee, ah don’t know. How about the fact that you were practically singin’ it earlier? Or the fact that ya picked me up, twirled me around, an’ got a right dreadful look from mah sis? Or...”
“Ok, ok, sheesh! You and Applejack are downright brutal.”
“Only ‘cause ya make it easy, Freefall.”
“Do I do anything right?” he mumbled with a sigh, brought low by a single filly. He glanced up as Applebloom bonked him lightly on the head, using a hoof rather than a mallet.
“Bangles sure seems t’ think so, an’ that’s what you should be thinkin’ about. Ah’m a right pain in the flank, but ah’ve seen how she looks at ya.”
“Huh, so you can be nice,” Freefall replied with a hopeful grin.
“Don’t go gettin’ used to it, ya hear?” she quipped, hopping down from the bed and trotting out. With no reason left to stay and every sign pointing to “oh, buck yes,” Freefall started out towards the tavern, his confidence high and his body quite ready for her much anticipated gift. It wasn’t until he started hearing whispers as he cantered through town that he realized he may have let his mind get carried away in his mind once more, and, finding no good way to hide his outstretched wings, simply donned an immature grin and continued on his way.
I’m finally going to ask. I know it’s soon, and kind of sudden, but I really think I’m ready. Sipping on some butterscotch soda, Bangles found herself humming happily as she awaited her stallion, in all his adorably moronic glory. After the night they spent together after he had unwittingly barged in on her showering, things had begun to shift for them both. Freefall had found his magical mare wooing abilities returning, though they were still laced with blunders so bad, some days she spent more time laughing than listening. And, even more precious to her, was a feeling she relished more than the tantalizing sensation of his kisses: innocence. She had never expected to feel such a thing, not after the crimes her own hooves had wrought, but there was something about the reverence and borderline obsession with which he held her that made her feel like she was worth something.
The telltale knock, confident and sure, bid her heart skip a beat, and she couldn’t help but beam as she opened the door, though her cheeks soon matched those of a stallion with little by way of mental self control.
“Um... your wings are... kind of...”
“Huh? Well, yeah! I mean, you’re hot, so it’s only natural, right? Wait, no, that’s not what I meant to say. Hang on,” he covered, blushing fitfully as he attempted to stabilize his thoughts and focus on Bangles, and not her sleek frame, rounded flanks, and everything else that seemed to be popping out at him.
“Just come on inside,” Bangles urged him, standing to one side with a faint hint of a smile, one that shifted to a confused smirk as Freefall trotted dutifully towards the stairs leading to her room. “Uh... where are you going?”
Is this some kind of trick question? She knows I’m not good at those... “Your... room?”
“Let’s stay down here for now.” Am I missing something? He’s acting way more nervous than normal, and he’s... quite aroused, by the look of it. Am I doing something different? Bangles examined herself, her bracelets klinking softly as she lifted her foreleg, glancing over it before again turning her attention to Freefall, his mind blown at the mare’s sudden shift towards maximum kinkiness.
Are we... really going to do it down here? On a table, where somepony could just walk right in? I thought I was ready, but I wasn’t expecting this! That’s, like, too much! Bucking here... I feel sorry for the ponies who are going to eat here later... Bangles was about to question the stallion, but he swallowed hard, nodded once, and promptly climbed up on top of the table closest to Bangles.
“...am I missing something here?” the mare asked quizzically, peering up at a stallion who was visibly just as confused.
“Uh, I dunno, maybe?”
“May I ask why you’re standing on the table?”
“I just thought... but... well, I guess the floor works, too,” he mused, glancing from her to the well kept hardwood floor. “Wait, you weren’t... you weren’t planning on using the stage, were you? That’s just... for the first time? Hold up, Bangles, I need to get my head around this...” Bangles blinked once, brought her hoof to her head in a desperate attempt to figure out what the hay her stallion was babbling about, before throwing her hoof in the air as a white flag and entreating him to end the madness.
“What’re you talking about, Freefall?”
“‘Something special...’ right?” Bangles slowly let her hoof fall back over her muzzle, realizing her unwitting blunder and, finding no way to cover, simply blew the stallion’s expectations out of the water.
“Freefall, I didn’t invite you over here to... to roll in the hay.”
“I... but you... what?” Bereaved of both anticipation and excitement, his wings slowly drooped to his sides, along with his smile and any confidence he had built in his training.
“I was going to ask if... if you wanted to move in... I know it’s kind of soon, and I... Freefall? Wait, Freefall, where are you going?” Her heart fell with every step he took away, and she found herself collapsing inwards as the door to the tavern shut, the latch echoing in the ensuing silence. I thought for sure he’d be ready, but I guess he had... something else in mind. I wish I could, Freefall. I really do. Ashen faced, she stared blankly at the floor, hooves in her lap and mind wracked with a doubt that was dispelled not by a kind word, but a dull thud against the door. This curious noise repeated twice, and then thrice, before Freefall trotted back in and sat down beside Bangles, appearing quite calm.
“Are... you going to be all right?”
“I’m going to be honest, I’m... a little... no, ok, really disappointed, but not because what you asked was bad. It’s just been a while since I’ve had my wings go flaccid, and it’s not the best sensation in the world.”
“I’m sorry if you felt like I led you on...”
“I do, kind of,” he admitted after a few seconds of silence. “I’m sorry, Bangles, but if you’re not ready to indulge, then the answer is no.”
“I... see...” I really... thought he was going to... is that really all this is to him? “I’ve changed my mind, anyways... I’m sorry for dragging you over here, Freefall, but I’d... like to be alone.”
“Huh? Why?” he instantly replied, confounded and terrified of the sudden change. There was pain in her eyes as she stood, and Freefall grew even further distraught as she shied away from his outstretched hoof.
“...please, just leave me be.” Her voice came out a hushed whisper before she turned and fled up the stairs, leaving Freefall frantically searching to try and understand why exactly she was so hurt that he wanted to protect her from a desire that had been multiplying exponentially since they started sharing a bed at night. “If rolling in the hay isn’t something she’s ready for, then... living with her full time is just plain stupid. I don’t want to go crazy and do something obscene, so saying no was the right thing to do, right? I just don’t bucking... oh Celestia, I’m a moron.”
Realization set in fast, and it was a hoof to the gut, knowing that while he had intended to be protecting her, what he said meant something much different. Desire to be alone or not, Freefall would not let his blunder run rampant, stampeding through the heart of somepony he knew was fragile. Bangles gave a start as her door slammed open, but Freefall didn’t give her time to resist before he sat down on the bed beside her and pulled her close, taking a deep breath and letting it all out.
“What I said came out really bucking messed up and if that’s what I meant then you’d be right to hate me but it’s not, it got a garbled in my head and I didn’t say everything I needed to say so I’d really like it if you’d just give me the chance to... buck, I need air!” Bangles sniffed a little as the stallion took a deep draft and started in again. “...give me the chance to explain that I wasn’t bucking trying to make you have sex with me even though that’s exactly what it sounded like which wasn’t my intention because I’d never pull something like on anypony, especially not somepony I’m totally obsessed with and just don’t want to hurt because I freaking tried something too soon because I was... dying...” Another breath, but it wasn’t enough, so Freefall took two, held eye contact and let out the last wave. “...too soon because I didn’t have the self-control to keep my hooves to myself because it’s hard enough right now but I’m not complaining, just letting you know that I’m struggling and doing my best and I just didn’t want to end up being a bucking retard and making you unhappy because I really... really l... can’t breathe...”
It was absolute torture for Bangles, hear the beginning of those three special words only to have Freefall’s limbs grow limp and pull away as the stallion flopped onto the floor. His chest heaving, his lungs bursting, and a little more than slightly lightheaded, he made no attempts at dignity and simply lay gasping for air, nearing hyperventilation in his overcompensation. Like an alicorn descended from the heavens, the lights dancing across his vision framed the resplendent glory a face most fair, and his chest calmed as what oxygen he had managed to take in was promptly stolen by a deep kiss. Freefall sat still for a moment before closing his eyes, his breaths deep, slow, and measured as they closed the chasm and made their peace.
“I... I’m sorry I doubted you...” Bangles whispered, pulling away just a little and searching his face for anger, though all she found was a jubilant, though slightly paralyzed, stallion of unquestionable loyalty. “You were just trying to keep from being in a situation where it was too much... Freefall, I really do want to give myself to you, but I... you make me feel innocent again, like my past is all just a bad dream. It’s a wonderful fantasy, and I just... want to feel that way a little longer, but I didn’t even try to explain. I guess... it’s my turn to be the idiot for a day.”
“It’s really not so bad, once you get used to it,” Freefall murmured, his face flushed with passion and wings quite happily restored to their full spread. “Bangles? I, uh...” No. Just bucking no, don’t you start this on me, brain! Bucking tell the lady! “I really, you know... kinda...” Freefall wasn’t about to leave the mare hanging, and even as a familiar nervousness rose within his heart, he fought back tooth and hoof, focusing everything on the mare that lay across his chest. She’s a pillow. Just imagine she’s a pillow. A freaking sexy pillow that’s warm, and pressing against... gah, focus! Growing a pair, take... thirty-two? Buck, I lost count...
“Bangles... I would wait a thousand years for a chance to hold your hoof, nay, ten thousand for a single kiss. Gladly would I yield my wings for a single glimpse of your radiant smile, and yet I have been blessed with all these. Would it not be the pinnacle of ingratitude, of utterly contemptible foolishness not to allow my lady the pleasure of a fantasy?” Bangles was entirely unprepared, emotionally or physically, for a voice so sultry, every word was aphrodisiac. Spurred to greater efforts by her deepening blush, faintly glowing horn, and awed expression, Freefall brought a hoof to her cheek, caressing gently as he continued.
“For this humble pegasus, to be graced by your shadow is a sweet dream made reality, and to be here, in the presence of immeasurable beauty, what can I say to sing of my elation? I beg your patience, for I know it is foolish for the mortal to grasp the timeless, but I cannot deny my heart: I love you, Bangles, with all that I am.” Its strange, talking like this and meaning every word. Sorry, Bangles, but you’ll have to suffer my rambling a little bit more.
“Such a sweet blush becomes you, Bangles. Gold fades to crimson, like the setting of the evening sun, and your mane...” As he stopped to examine said feature and conjure further poetry, he became aware to two additional pieces of information. Firstly, Bangles was very visibly aroused, and two, so was he. Oh, Celestia, it’s... no, no no no, not now! Don’t... buck, too late. Being on the bottom, there was no discrete way for Freefall to hide himself or the rather embarrassing physical changes over which he had no control, and rather than pulling away as he expected she would, Bangles pressed closer, thirsting for his words like wine.
“Please, just... give me a little more,” she murmured, wrapping her hooves around his neck and pressing closer still.
A little more? How the buck am I supposed to give... anything when you’re... and I’m...
“Please...” What was a stallion to do? His lady had made her request, and he would be remiss if he didn’t deliver. Eyes wide, heart pounding, and blood racing, Freefall fell freely.
“I like your mane. It is very green. It is also soft. I like to touch it.” A knowing smile slowly grew as Bangles was given her request, and all the well-intentioned, bumbling glory that came with it. “If your mane smelled good, I would eat it.”
“‘If’ it smelled good, huh?” she giggled, releasing her hold and sitting up so she could watch the panic set in.
“Buck, wait, no, that’s not what I meant! It smells fine!” Desperate to prove his point, Bangles couldn’t help but laugh softly as the frantic stallion grabbed a mouthful of her mane, her head tilting to one side as he gave it a tentative chew, slowing to a stop as Bangles wiped the excess moisture of mirth from her eyes and beamed down at him.
“You’re a shameless flatterer, Freefall. It was... quite stimulating, I will admit, but I’m not getting any more romance tonight, am I?” Freefall stared back for a moment, heaved a sigh, and nervously glanced back up at a mare far too accepting of his “quirks.” He’d have loved to say yes, to continue singing her praises, but by virtue of the fact that he had a mouthful of her mane, he could really only answer one way.
“Nuh, prbly nt.”