”Come on! Just one quick snowball fight and then I’ll stop bothering you!”
You sigh and take another sip from your cup of hot cocoa. The fireplace of your home crackles in the background; sparkles of light glint off the ornaments hanging from your Hearthswarming tree, “Dash, the girls are going to be here any minute for the gift unwrapping. Why don’t we just enjoy not being cold and soaking for a bit?”
”Cuz it’s lame…is that a trick question?” She hops off the couch and stretches her wings. Looking back, her eyes attempt to stoke a fire inside you with their playfulness.
You meet her gaze and she ruffles her feathers, ”So, you coming or not?”
You take another sip of coco and raise a brow, “Dash, I’m not going to go outside and freeze my fingers off when I can just sit here and enjoy the season in the comfort of the fireplace.”
What starts off as a blank expression slowly morphs to one of disdain and annoyance as you finish your sentance, ”Fine! Have fun with your boring fire or whatever, I’ll just have a snowball fight with myself!” The cyan mare storms off, much to your amusement. She hastily tosses on a red tasseled scarf and opens the front door. A rush of cold air fills the room buffeting the fireplace and causing you to shrink further into the arm of the couch. She slams the door behind her.
Dash had a high tolerance for cold. At first, you thought it had to do with her being a pegasus, but you also knew other pegasi who were just as affected by the cold as you were; Fluttershy was one. It could just be her insane metabolism.
You mull over the idea. No matter what Dash ate nothing ever seemed to stick to her, and she ate a lot. You’d also felt her body heat before during the occasional hug or when she would take a nap next to you on the couch, she seemed pretty warm relative to you. That meant her body heat was higher, right? If you cuddled up under a blanket she’d probably feel like a furnace.
The hair on your arms stands up at the thought.
And that’s not including how warm it would be if she wrapped her wings around you. Those things must feel like electric blankets! Would you be able to feel her heartbeat in them?
*click—whooosh!
The sound of your front door bursting open startles you out of your daydream. Blushing, you take a gulp of coco and glance up, “Too cold out there for you?” You can’t hide the smugness in your voice.
”No.” She responds flippantly, not meeting your eye. She kicks the door shut and wipes her hooves off on the doormat.
“So, you realized you’d rather finish your hot coco, then?” Her eyes lift to yours, but her blank expression offers no affirmation.
”Nope.”
She doesn’t seem keen on giving an explanation. She simply trots over and stands awkwardly at the side of the coffee table. You raise a brow at her but she doesn’t react apart from reaching down to grab her mug. Her eyes lift to yours as she takes a sip.
“So…what then? You were just dying for my company?”
You feel your heartbeat pick up when you utter those words. It was all in jest, obviously, but you surprised yourself with how much you were hoping for a particular answer.
”Something like that.”
You stop breathing for a moment as your chest constricts. Did she…mean it like that? For months now you’ve been mustering the courage to tell her you wanted to be more than friends.
For months now that’s all you’ve been doing.
You just couldn’t bear the thought of ruining the awesome friendship you had. The hope fluttering about in your chest keeps your face warm. You feel her eyes on you but you don’t dare look. For a moment, all is quiet as you entertain the thought of telling her your feelings here and now.
The peace doesn’t last ten seconds before Dash casually lifts her folded wing. A concealed, half-melted snowball drops into her waiting hoof which immediately drives it into your shoulder. Snow slush explodes across the couch and coffee table, quickly melting and leaving large wet patches amidst your tidy little house.
The sudden cold sends you reeling in shock and you leap up, spilling your coco on the floor, “Ah geez! Dash! What the heck?”
”Heheh-eh-hahahaha!” An adorable voice crack quenches your indignation.
”Come on Anon! Don’t you wanna get me back so you can teach me a lesson?” She hops excitedly towards the door, happy that she got a rise out of you.
That scheming mare. You’re going to teach her a lesson alright! “Come here you!”
You bolt after her but there’s no chance of catching up. Even with the door closed, she’s able to open it and escape into the winter wonderland beyond before you can cover half the distance. You come to a stop at the threshold of the open door and rush to don your boots and jacket.
”Better hurry up! I’m about to hit you again!” Her pretty cyan colors dance around in the white powder like a piece of the summer sky—a token of warmth that made the scene more enticing.
Her hooves form another projectile.
You finish tying one shoe and start on the other when you see her wind up. She really isn’t taking it easy on you. You take a step back from the door and close it halfway.
The snowball thumps against the oak and splatters the living room, as well as yourself, with ice, “Agh! Why you…!”
”Heheheh!”
She hops around excitedly as you tuck your untied bootstrings in and rush outside. Hop-skipping out into the snow with one loose shoe, you finish putting on your jacket at the cost of taking a snowball to the belly, “Oof!...Oh, I’m going to teach you a lesson alright!”
You both race to form the next snowball. Your hands offer you an advantage here and you enjoy a moment of satisfaction when your throw catches her by surprise. She ducks just in time and after shaking off her nerves, shoots you a smug grin, ”Missed me!”
You quickly form another while dodging her throw. The second snowball finally connects, causing her to stagger back defensively. She ruffles her wings to shake off the snow and giggles.
You smile at her, “Learned your lesson yet?” You hoist another snowball above your shoulder and close the distance to where she sits.
”Heh! Not yet!” A forehoof swats at the snow, kicking the cold powder up into your face. It blinds you long enough for her to make an escape. The two of you circle the clearing, laughing like fools as you engage in the ancient winter pastime. Your play draws the attention of a few passers-by who look on with soft smiles at the two adults acting like foals.
The epic battle goes on for well over ten minutes until Dash’s throws get weaker and your fingers are numb. Eventually, you call a truce and agree to head back inside. No longer your sworn enemy, Dash stumbles through the snow and sidles up to you. She pauses to shake her coat clean, then rushes to catch up again.
“Thanks for getting me off my butt, that was fun!” You slur through numb lips.
”You just need a little kick in the plot from time to time. It’s what I’m here for!” She quips, almost as numb as you.
You push open the front door and Dash bolts past you, hurriedly wiping her hooves off before darting for the fireplace, ”What the heck? The fire died!”
You close the door, then take off your shoes and jacket, “Throw another log on and use the firestarter.”
Dash peeks around the corner at the wood rack. She glances back at you before tossing on a log. You make your way to the kitchen and start the process of making fresh cocoa; you don’t notice her rummaging around until she speaks up.
”What kind of Hearthswarming Party are you running here, Anon? There are no firestarters!”
“What? I just set them out this week. Look beside the mantle.”
You spare a glance up to see her looking around, ”There’s nothing here!”
That was mildly concerning, but only mildly. The rest of your friends were due to show up anytime for the gift exchange tonight, and either Twilight or Rarity could easily start a fire with magic. There was still enough heat in the house to stay warm, just not enough to thaw your frigid bodies as quickly as you might like. The hot mugs of cocoa would help with that though. You carry them back to the coffee table and sit on the couch offering the mare your thoughts, "Well, whatever. We can just wait until the rest of the party gets here, Twi or Rares will be able ot restart it for us."
Dash abandons her search and hops onto the couch with you. Much to your surprise, she ducks under one of your arms and snuggles up to your side. Taken aback, you stare at her as she takes her cup from your hand and blows away some steam. She catches you staring out of the corner of her eye and pauses mid-blow.
”What?”
You shake your head, “N-nothing! Just… never mind.”
The sensation of your pegasus friend snuggling into you was the opposite of unwanted, yet you didn’t know what to do. Do you put your arm on the couch, or around her? Where on her should you put it? Higher on the withers? Below her wings? Over her wings?
”It’s not rocket science dude.” Dash is looking at you with a hot chocolate-colored smirk.
“Uh…”
She snorts and nudges your shoulder, “Just relax. I promise I won’t give you cooties, and I swear I’m not gonna get all weird on you if we cuddle.”
That seems to put you at ease enough to rest your arm across her withers. She lets out a breath and lays into you. That’s when you detect a faint tremor. Is she shivering?
“Dash, are you cold?”
Her expression goes blank, ”No. I’m a Changeling who feeds on human hugs…yes I’m cold, duh!”
That was a pretty dumb question. Rather than sit there and feel stupid, you decide to do something about it. She pulls away for a moment as you take off your sweater. She watches with curiosity, not understanding your intentions until it is too late.
”Wait, Anon, what are you…?” You put the sweater over her head before she can make up her mind to resist. Taking the cocoa from her hoof, you pull it down some more, insisting she put it on.
Forelegs finally animate and poke around, trying to find the arm holes. You help her find them and after another twenty seconds, the petite pegasus pokes her head out of the neck. The outer inch of cyan muzzle tries unsuccessfully to nuzzle back the obfuscating hood before snorting in confusion and deciding to wait for help.
You pull the hood back and comb some mane from her eyes, “There you go. How’s that. Better?”
The arms are too long for her forelegs which makes her efforts to adjust the fit futile, ”It’s…uh, w-warm. Thanks.” She tucks in her ears as you return her mug to her hooves.
You pull her into you with a tight one-armed hug. Giving her shoulder a rub you smile down at the coddled mare and take a sip. The chocolatey delight fills you with warmth from the inside where it meets an equally potent warmth pressing in from your friend.
You sigh and relax fully into Dash. You feel her do the same. You’re so comfy right now it feels like you’re doing something illegal. But you weren’t. Just you and your favorite pegasus enjoying each other’s company.
You glance down at her and spy her silently sniffing the collar of your sweater. She jerks her head up the moment she feels your eyes on her, then looks away and hides her blush by taking a long sip.
“We should do this more often.”
Dash sputters, “W-what?”
“Hot cocoa and snowball fights, it’s a nice combination.”
”O-oh…yeah. That.” She reflexively wipes her mouth with the sleeve of your sweater, then glances at the stain. She offers you a sheepish look, ”Heh, sorry.”
Matching her ever-present mischievous smile with one of your own, you take a swig from your mug, then set it down, “Ah…refreshing. Now all I need is a napkin.”
You act like you’re looking around for something to wipe off your chocolate mustache with. Your eyes settle on Dash’s big seas of magenta, “Oh, a little mare! That’ll do nicely!”
Dash catches on as you close in. She begins squirming in your grasp, laughing manically, ”No no no no no! Hahaha-sta-haha-ahp!” She writhes and bucks and tries to get away but your arm kept her firmly secured to your side. An added benefit to the article of clothing is that it kept her wings from interfering with your advances, which greatly improved your odds of a successful attack.
The more she struggled, the more she got tangled up in your sweater. She eventually goes limp, panting and giggling as she watches your playful eyes. You pull down the collar of your sweater and expose the spoils of war—her luscious chest tuft. The curly fur bursts out like it was vying for your attention, and boy does it receive it.
”No not there! No-hohohoho!” Her cries reach a crescendo of hysteric squeals as you plant your face against her chest and rub it around to wipe off your chocolate mustache.
The essence of ozone, petrichor, and pegasus spice keep you firmly rooted long after the ‘napkin’ had served its purpose. By the time you pull away, you’ve got her pinned against the couch. Her laughter turns to snickering turns to a smile that stays on you as you rest. The steady thump of her heartbeat and breath sounds like a beautiful orchestra that grows more enthralling the longer you listen. Eventually, you come to your senses.
“Now we’re even.”
”Heh. Ok…”
You sit back up. Dash stumbles, trying to relocate her forelegs into the arms. You help her up and she sways for a moment, searching for her balance. Reaching around her, you try to guide her opposite foreleg back through the armhole.
She doesn’t look away as you close in, and you bump noses.
“Dash. I’m trying to…”
She pushes her nose into yours again and lets out a hot breath that thaws your nostrils.
You shift your focus to her face as yours heats up. She doesn’t flinch, and it’s not long before you can no longer resist the intoxicating temperature and scent of her breath. Her eyes seem to soften when you press into her, sharing your own air and doing your part to warm her fuzzy face. Your nose comes to rest beside her furry one, rubbing ever so slightly as if entwined in a delicate dance.
You'd read about this before. Breath sharing. It was a bonding exercise for ponies. Something rather intimate and affectionate. It was the last thing you expected to be doing with Rainbow Dash.
But it feels so good.
The exchange of hot air lasts a silent moment, only stopping when your eyes both flutter open and affix to one another. Dash doesn’t say anything and you don’t either. It was a little odd for her to do something like that. But it just made the encounter all the more special.
From what you knew about your friend, you would’ve expected her to brush off the event or at least try to shift attention away from what you just did together. She doesn’t do that, though. Her eyes stay locked on you, a little timid as if half-expecting some sort of judgment.
You can’t have any of that. Yet you don’t know what to do. What comes after breath sharing? Ear scratches maybe? That might be a good place to start.
Your fingers find the warm crux of her splayed ears, prompting them to perk one at a time, “I never knew you were this good at cuddling.”
Your compliment and attentive fingers break the ice, ”Yeah, but it’s not like I p-practice or anything.” She grunts and leans into your scratches.
It felt like a rare treat to see her like this; you don’t want the moment to end. After routing out the itch at the base of her ear, you work up the backside. They feel like ice cubes against your fingers, “Holy cow these things are cold!”
She recovers from her daze just in time for you to palm both of her ears. Squeezing them gently, you feel the heat of your hands quickly warm the thin cups. Dash lets out a satisfied sigh, ”That’s the stuff…”
Her head begins to droop as she closes her eyes and simply enjoys the sensation. The only furred creature in the room now had not only a sweatshirt, but a personal attendant as well. It is no wonder that you begin shivering.
Your first tremor snaps her out of her micro nap. Her eyes move to your face as if looking for confirmation of what she just felt. You resist as long as you can, but another tremor is inevitable, ”Do you want your sweater back dude?”
You shake your head, “Nah keep it. I just need to get moving or something. Besides, someone with some fire-starting spell is bound to be here any minute—”
—*whoosh
Dash’s wings simultaneously unfurl from under your sweater and stretch out across you. One feathered appendage curls across your back, one against your chest. The coverage of her wings is substantial. The only thing that remains exposed is your opposite shoulder and lap.
”I know they’re not the biggest or anything but they should help. I would know I live with them.” She finishes with a snort.
The lighthearted comment does little to distract you from the unmistakable caring tone her words possessed. You reach up and hold the backside of her wing against your chest. A steady…
*ba-dump ba-dump
…reverberates through the feathered appendage. You can feel her heartbeat. An uncontrollable smile tugs at your lips. She pulls right up to you when she sees that you’re not going to run away. Her forehooves hug you under her wings.
“Thanks Dash, you always know how to take care of me.” You wink and she rolls her eyes.
”C’mon! You don’t have to be a sap about it!”
“No? So I’m not allowed to show my appreciation now, is that it?” You playfully nuzzle her mane. The smell of ozone brings a smile to your face as much as her giggle does.
”Stop that! It tickles!”
“So now it’s ok if I’m being a sap as long as it doesn’t tickle?” You tug on the tip of her ear with a nibble.
”Pfft! No! That’s not how it works!”
“Tell me how it works then.”
She pulls away from your tug but presses her ear back into your lips when you bite at the long fur at the base of the cup—where your fingers had scratched earlier. One of her eyes squints and the other crosses, ”It’s-ngh!...C-complicated.”
If she liked ear scratches, she must’ve loved how it felt when you nibbled there. A thought flashes through your mind that it’s probably much closer to how preening actually works. On some level, her body knew it and allowed the otherwise oblivious pegasus to reap the reward of your adventurousness. Her body language, proximity, and appetite for affection caused you to continue without a second thought.
Bringing a hand up you comb her mane out of the way. She instinctively ducks her head to expose the back of her ear where you proceed to nibble away to your heart's content. Heavy, raspy breaths come from beneath you as she relaxes and nearly goes into a trance. Fingers rake down the fur of her neck while you tend to her ear. Only after a half minute of acting vigorously on instinct, do you start to question what instinct you had to begin with.
A blush fills your cheeks and you lick the backside of her ear, concluding the brief foray into the foreign territory of preening. She remains hunched over against your chest for a moment until she’s certain you’re not going to continue. For a second, your eyes meet and her wet ear flickers, “Was that complicated enough for y—”
You’re cut off by her narrow muzzle darting in towards your jaw and nipping you. Once you realize she’s just trying to reciprocate, you turn your head to allow it. Her teeth stack gentle bites up the side of your jaw. You could tell how calculated her efforts were by how slow she moved. She was very careful not to cause pain, so careful, that after a half dozen nibbles she withdraws enough for you to see her eyes enter your field of view.
They were staring at you, gauging your reaction. She licks once across the trail of faint red lines and you take the opportunity to nuzzle into her short muzzle. Her eyes close as she switches modes to exchange deep breaths.
Never before in your life had you so much as thought Dash could have this sort of side to her. Now here you are in the midst of experiencing it. It’s so alluring, so addicting, that you can’t hide your feelings anymore. Besides, the timing isn’t going to get much better.
After the next nuzzle, you take a detour to align your lips, then hesitate. She doesn’t pull back, instead, she nuzzles you harder. The thin fur of her upper lip tickles yours.
That’s it. This mare’s getting smooched.
Gently but firmly, you pucker up and push against her mouth. Her breathing doesn’t change, it was as if she’d expected it. You feel her lips pucker and push back under yours. Your blood bubbles, your heart cinches in your chest, and your breath leaves your nostrils where it gets intercepted by your friend’s next inhale. There’s a moment of extreme lucidity where you feel the texture of her lips, the tensing of every muscle in her jaw as she adjusts her pucker, the smell of her fur, and the light suction sealing your lips against hers.
You knew exactly what you were doing, you both did, and neither wanted it to end.
You seemed to think that if you just didn’t move, time wouldn’t either. So you hold the kiss, and use the opportunity to pass every unspoken emotion you had for one another back and forth and back again.
It was as if you could read her very mind. The way her wings and hooves held you just as tightly as her suction on your upper lip. The way her breaths grow deeper and heavier in pace with her sprinting heart. The way she slowly nestled her pointed mouth deeper into yours as she grew more comfortable with the expression. It all told you the same thing.
She loves you back.
Your lips curl up at the realization. You can even hear her heartbeat now, like a dozen hooves pattering on cobblestone—
—*knock knock knock!
You part with an obnoxiously loud.
*smuah!
You glance at the front door, seeing shadows through the window next to it. Turning back to Dash, you see a picture of a flustered mare.
Her cheeks are rosy, her ears are pinned to her nape, and it only was getting worse with each passing moment. She wipes her lips, then grows self-conscious about you seeing her do that. Her blush grows for a moment before she licks them nervously, then it explodes as she realizes what she’s done. The poor pegasus was a mess.
Pulling her out of the intimate moment so quickly was jarring. Like being woken from a nap during REM, you imagine. It wasn’t easy on you either, but you’re in a better state than she is. You pat her wither and shoot her a wink.
“I’ll get the door.”
”O-ok.”
Dash takes to rearranging the couch cushions as if trying to cover up any evidence of cuddling. It was an idle task that distracted her from the rush of embarrassment she felt. She was Rainbow Dash after all. She wasn’t supposed to have a soft side like any old mare.
The door opens and you greet the party of familiar faces. Only this time more than one hold a suspicious devious grin, “Welcome in girls! I’ve got fresh cocoa in the kitchen!”
The five mares rush the door to escape the cold, chattering and muttering greetings.
”Hey, nice sweater Rainbow! Anon’s clothes look pretty good on you!” Pinkie quickly exclaims.
Dash grumbles and rolls her eyes. In all her last-minute evidence-scrubbing, she’d forgotten she was wearing the murder weapon.
”Oh…I hope we didn’t walk in on something.” Fluttershy adds, noting Dash’s fierce blush.
Rarity shoots you a flirty look that nearly sets you on fire, “My my…don’t tell me you two have been sharing presents before we got here.”
”Oh quit it! We were just cold because we couldn’t start a fire…s-so we got in a survival huddle.” Her eyes dart to yours, then admit, “Or s-survival cuddle…sorta thing.”
Twilight quirks a brow, “So you two were sharing clothing and body heat in order to—”
”—You wouldn’t know about it, it’s something they teach us at Wonderbolt survival training!”
”Yer tellin me you have all these logs but you couldn’t start a fire.” Applejack points to the pregnant yet cold fireplace.
What is with this scrutiny?
Dash starts to grow noticeably more nervous. Her clumsy shuffling is amplified by your hoodie, ”T-there’re no firestarters! We needed a magic fire spell!”
They all seem to nod in approval at the stuttered, hastily cooked up, and unlikely story. All but one.
Applejack pulls a bundle of conspicuous red sticks from where they were jammed underneath the wood rack, ”If y’all don’t have any firestarters, then what are these?” She looks back with an expression that bordered between annoyance and boredom.
You turn to Dash who looks like she’s seen a ghost, “Huh…funny how those ended up there.” Dash stares at you, panicked. As far as she was concerned, her fate lie in the next words that came out of your mouth, “Thanks AJ, I must’ve forgotten where I put them.”
Applejack eyes Dash skeptically, before shrugging and starting the fire. You smile inwardly, and as your prismatic pegasus glances at you with a look of embarassment and growing gratitude, one thing becomes certain.
That wasn’t the last kiss you were going to get for Hearthswarming.