//------------------------------// // Hoof It // Story: Uno Mas // by Some Leech //------------------------------// “Lad, that hit the spot,” she groaned, reclining and patting her stomach. Nodding, he pushed himself up, gathered up the emptied plates, and turned away. “Glad you liked it.” The good news was that their meal had gone off without incident, barring when she’d virtually fellated his hand to eat some garlic bread - the bad news was that the dinner was only the first hurdle he had to clear. He looked over his shoulder as he passed the bar, ensuring she wasn’t looking at him, and grabbed a bottle of booze from one of the shelves. Though it may have been unnecessary, having a bit of pot-valiance sure as shit couldn’t hurt with what he was about to do. He didn’t bother to wash the dishes, simply tossing them into a sink of soapy water for the time being, but he did help himself to a swig of the spirit he’d snatched. He didn’t know the first thing about dancing, let alone dancing with a massive equine, so he couldn’t see things going smoothly from here on out. Stashing the bottle in one of the many cabinets, he wheeled around and strolled back to his awaiting date. Though he’d only been gone for less than a minute, Haggis had made herself busy in his absence. Not only had she dabbed the marinara sauce and most of her makeup off her face, but she’d shoved the table they’d dined at over to the side and cleared the floor. Standing beneath a hanging lantern, bathed in warm light, she lifted a forehoof and beckoned to him. “Shame we don’t have any music,” she halfheartedly lamented, smirking over at him, “but it shouldn’t matter too much.” Unable to contain his smile, he altered course and sauntered behind the bar. Many months ago, shortly after she’d saved and employed him, he’d discovered a phonograph in the loft while exploring the place. The piece of equipment was dusty, beaten to hell, and he’d only managed to find two intact records for the thing, but it was more than capable of fulfilling her little request. Lifting and blowing the contraption off, he set it on the bartop. “So did you forget you had this?” She eyed the machine for a moment and shrugged. “Where’d you find that?” “Up in the attic,” he snickered, carefully slipping one of the cylindrical records in place before winding up the device. “Honestly forgot I had it,” she groused. Watching him work, she stiffened. “What else did you find while you were snooping about?” Setting the needle down, he flicked a switch and walked around to her. “Nothing much. There were some boxes, but I didn’t go through them or anything. That,” he explained, nodding back at the phonograph, “was just sitting out and covered in cobwebs.” Looking slightly more relaxed than she had moments prior, she nodded. “Good.” Making a mental note about her reaction, wondering if she had something stashed away she didn’t want him finding, he smiled and seized the initiative as the room was filled with classical music. There weren’t many things in the world that Haggis respected, but confidence seemed to be one of them - as such, giving her no warning, he wrapped an arm around the back of her neck, pressed his chest to her, and lifted her foreleg in one hand. Her reaction to the brazen act was priceless. She went rigid, her eyes shot wide, and the barest hint of a blush crept into her cheeks, though she composed herself in an instant. Pulling her foreleg free, she brought her hoof to the small of his back and held him close while her expression hardened. In a flash, she turned the tables on him in the most spectacular way. All it took was a small shove from her to send him reeling, knocking him off balance falling back against her foreleg. She stepped forward and leaned over him, smirking down at his aghast face as she held him in her iron grasp. “Think you can pull a fast one on ‘ol Haggis ~ eh?” she tittered. Managing to keep hold of her neck, he threw his head from side to side. “N…no!” Stepping back and slipping her hoof to his arm, she spun in place and flung him to the side. His legs went out from beneath him, he yelped in shock, and the world became a blur of motion as she twirled and held onto his wrist. It was at that moment, whirling around and trying not to scream, that he realized he’d fucked up. She stopped as abruptly as she’d begun, wrenching his arm and pulling him back to herself. Snagging him in her foreleg, she threw her head back and stepped to the right, then the left, as she began to actually dance with him. The slow, gentle movements stood in sharp contradiction to the absolute roller coaster she’d just put him through, yet his thundering heart and racing thoughts were immeasurably thankful for the change of pace. “Move your hand lower,” she instructed. As his palm glided down her neck, she draped her head over his shoulder and hummed. “Can’t say I’ve ever done this with a biped before.” “Same,” he thoughtlessly responded, peeking over at her. She looked up at him with a single eye and grinned. “Guessing you meant you’ve never danced with a pony.” Rubbing her upper back, he looked away from her. “Anyone really. Never had the chance to -” “Bollocks,” she interrupted, continuing to lazily move from side to side. “You can’t tell me you’ve never done this with anypony before. Fine young lad like you surely had a lover or two in your day.” He hung his head and sighed. “To be honest, I haven’t.” With a small snort, she closed her eyes and tightened her grip on him. “Well I’m sure you’ll find your special somepony, lad.” Following her movements and listening to the lilting, somewhat tinny tune coming from the phonograph, he rested his face against her neck. Though the opening moments of their little jig had been utterly pants-shitting, the comfort of being held, of basking in her warmth, were undeniably soothing. It had been years since he’d had so much as a hug - even then, it had been one from his mom, so he steadily succumbed to the soothing moment. One track from the record bled into the next while they slowly danced their way around the room. At first, shortly after he’d arrived in Equestria, he’d yearned to return home to the world he’d been cast from, yet the urge to leave was growing progressively weaker. The land and its denizens, while colorful in more ways than one, were stimulating and genuinely fun to be around - moreover, he’d fallen into a supremely capable pair of hooves. Pulling away ever so slightly, he lifted her head and ran his cheek up her neck. Haggis may have had her faults, but the same could be said for anyone; given the life she’d had and the bullshit she had to put up with on a regular basis, anybody in her situation would be excused for being a touch ornery - for fuck’s sake, he was already growing calloused to some of the usual drunkards’ hijinks. Staring over at her, he lost himself in her eyes. Her breath washed hotly over his face, they went still as the final song faded into silence, and his heart skipped a beat. She could easily crush him in any sort of combat, she was grumpy more often than not, and she was infamous for her stoic disposition, which made the tender moment of vulnerability with her all the more magical. Maybe he’d been wrong - maybe him ending up in Equestria hadn’t been some cosmic mistake. “Looking awfully hard,” she whispered as her hoof slipped lower. With one hand wandering up to her jaw, he drifted closer. “Yeah…” Their faces drew nearer to one another in the quiet stillness. He’d both heard about and seen scenes like this portrayed in film and books, junctures when a couple gave themselves to one another and their true feelings, though he could have never fathomed he’d experience one himself. Leaning in, he pursed his lips and yielded to his instincts. With a hair’s breadth separating them, she faltered, darted to the side, pecked his cheek and released him. “Not this time, lad - not this time…” Straightening up and looking over at her as she nonchalantly trotted to the kitchen, he scrunched his nose. The last thing he’d wanted to do was upset her or jeopardize the friendship he’d worked so hard to cultivate, so he was left torn on if he should follow her or stay where he was. Pushing open the door with one foreleg, she peeked back at him with a smile. “Next time?” he repeated, unsure of the meaning of her words. “Next time,” she quietly stated, “if you’re lucky…” And with that nebulous promise, letting hope dangle from a gossamer thread, she was gone. In a word, he was speechless - not purely because of how she’d acted, but because of what he’d nearly done. He looked around himself at the tavern as he struggled to process everything that had happened. It was pitch black outside, all the furniture would need to be moved back where it belonged, and there were dishes to be cleaned - still, an inexplicable glee overtook him. “Well,” he huffed, moving to and grabbing the nearest table, “no time like the present ~ right?” he asked, looking over to Dova’s stony countenance. Unmoving, the draconic effigy looked on as impassively as ever as he began tidying up. In the grand scheme of things, it probably didn’t matter if he ever got back to Earth. People were boring, the world of man was disinteresting, and his life had basically consisted of distracting himself when he wasn’t asleep or working - all told, he’d only truly started living once he’d gotten to Equestria. Craning his head and looking up at the ceiling, hearing Haggis trotting overhead, he dwelled on her final words - ‘if you’re lucky…’