//------------------------------// // Chapter 5 - The Walk of Shame // Story: Dry Spell // by StickySyrup //------------------------------// Chapter 5 - Walk of Shame The streets were empty. It must have been around 3am, and Bluewave had basically fallen asleep on his back. Spitfire kept walking next to him, head down deep in a emotion only she was at liberty to share. Now completely sober, Soarin’ turned the corner to the street on which Spitfire lived. He knew the area well, as he had grown up there as a colt. The Pegasus could see his friends house at the end of the street; a small but cosy semi-detached property with a front yard and cute staircase leading to the back door. He had sat waiting on those stairs for who knows how long for his friend to be ready in previous engagements. However, this visit was almost terrifying. A rumbling sensation on his back alerted him to something he had previously overseen. Bluewave woke up long enough to apologise before throwing up all down his back and side. “This night has been fucking brilliant!” He said sarcastically in the dark street. Spitfire laughed and helped him prop Bluewave up into a more hygienic position. Soarin’ simply laughed. He was already ashamed, embarrassed, regretful, tired, hurt and covered in sick. What more could go wrong? Spitfire’s house loomed on them quickly. It looked different at night. Bigger and more obtrusive. He successfully carried the nearly paralytic unicorn up the stairs and into the living room. He set her down on the sofa, using his strong wings to let her roll onto the soft seating. Bluewave snored peacefully, head to one side. It was just him and Spitfire. Alone. “Let’s get you cleaned up.” She said, leading him upstairs. They entered her en-suit bathroom, and she ran a bath. Her room was a small affair, but felt like home. The game console controllers were strewn over the large double bed, several Wonderbolts posters and popular bands littered the walls. Her obsession with weird and wonderful art proved itself with the numerous amounts of paintings and sculptures on her windowsill and walls. He loved her room. It felt so... Spitfire. She emerged from her bathroom followed by the sweet aroma of bubble-bath. The atmosphere was incredibly sexual, but Soarin’ didn’t notice. He simply wanted to rid himself of Bluewave’s stomach contents. He hopped right into the bath without closing the door, relishing the warm water on his coat. Spitfire had left him to go check on her friend, and he savored the peace and quiet. He heard her hoof steps coming up the stairs. After washing and pulling the plug, he stepped out, wrapping a towel around him. The Pegasus spread his wings and shook the water off. After he was clean, smelling good and dry, he cautiously approached Spitfire. She looked confused, yet re-assured. It was strange to see her friend in such a way. Her fire coloured mane was messy and tangled, her hooves muddy and worn. She looked amazing to Soarin’. He spoke first, “Hey, I’m really sorry about what happened. I guess I was just really drunk and I didn’t know it was you. I swear!” She let out a laugh and looked down smiling. It was just the reaction he wanted. It was going to be okay. They probably wouldn’t talk for a bit and then take it as a joke. Another crazy night out, an adventure which they shared. Before his thoughts took him away, he noticed her moving closer. This was new. He suddenly realised what she was doing. His heart quickened as the adrenaline coursed through him. It felt so wrong, yet so right. She got close to his ear and whispered, “You’re not the only one who goes through dry spells.” His whole world swirled in a cacophony of emotions. Confusion to pleasure, right to wrong. It was all so weird. Before he could respond, her tongue was back in his mouth. He played with it, not giving a shit anymore. If it was going to happen, he might as well make the most of it. She forced him back with the power of her body until his back legs met the bed. He closed his eyes, and that night, he was no longer frustrated. The End? --------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Authors note. Want to read more? My friend has written a more ‘mature’ extended ending. I don’t agree with ‘clopfics’ as such, but I must admit, it’s well written and I won’t judge. If you want to read it, then PM me and I can give you the link. Thanks to: Nickstern - Helping proofread and edit the story (google docs banter included, mulit-editing. So funny!). ---------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Another Authors note I have been wanting to write another fic in a similar style to this, but I have limited inspiration. If you have a story that is interesting, true (or at least, based on a true story), compelling and have the desire for it to be ponified, PM me or comment below saying you're interested. I will be working with you if I get a response of course.