//------------------------------//
// Seasons 
// Story: Thirty Minute Ponies 
// by QuirkyQuills 
//------------------------------//

The Prompt: Two ponies kiss, and all is right in the world.

He was startled to see her when he came over the rise - a lone sun-yellow pegasus, gaze fixed on the butterflies hovering around the blossoms adorning his family’s apple trees. One dainty ear turned toward him and she gave him a sheepish look; he came up beside her at a deliberate gait, keeping his steps light despite his massive frame, and smiled as he sat beside her. 

She smiled back, peeking through long lashes in a way that would have been calculated on any other mare. He was suddenly glad for his red coat that would obscure any blush, and turned his attention to the butterflies.

At sundown she got up, and they exchanged another smile, and she left. 

At the end of the next workday she was there again. He came up beside her and smiled, and she smiled, and they sat together until sundown.

So it went every evening for the rest of spring.

***

When the blossoms were replaced by dense leaves and burgeoning fruit, she still came. Delicate ears twitched and swayed in tune to the songs of birds nesting in the apple trees; he came, with sweet cold apple juice, and she watched the way he watched her and then turned his own attention to the birds.

They shared the juice, and occasionally one of them hummed a bit in tune with the birds, and it always brought a smile to the other as they sat together until sundown.

So it went every evening for the rest of summer.

***

In the fall, when the rest of Ponyville was out to watch or compete in the Running Of The Leaves, they met on the rise. For a long moment they listened to the sounds of the race.

Then they turned to each other and he smiled, and she smiled, and without either of them needing to suggest it they had their own private frolicking Running Of The Leaves through the orchard.

When they were finished they lay down, side to side, her dainty chin resting on his muscled haunch, and they stayed that way until sundown.

So it went every evening for the rest of fall.

***

In winter there was less work to do on the farm, fewer animals to tend due to migration and hibernation, but by unspoken agreement they still met at the same early evening hour. 

He brought steaming mugs of cider, and she brought thick blankets, and they often found themselves staying out well after sundown - breath misting the air as they lay side by side, silently stargazing, her wing sometimes laid over his back or his forelegs cradling her in a graceful heap.

The ride was soon heaped in snow, but neither of them heeded it, warmth seeping easily into them on those long nights - nights that sometimes saw them together until the sun tinged the horizon with predawn glow.

So it went every night all through winter.

***

During Winter Wrap-up, they never saw each other.

They were both puzzled, and a bit troubled. The schedule imposed by Twilight Sparkle - efficient and merciless - left no time for searching; there was no chance of leaving their duties for anything other than a quick bite to eat and a drink, and both knew better than to go without a meal while working so hard.

So, by accident rather than their usual year-long design, they met at the usual time, on the usual little hill in Sweet Apple Acres.

He stared at her, taking in the bruises visible under her yellow coat and the stiff, careful way she flexed her wings and the green vest she’d donned in hopes of working alongside him.

She stared at him, taking in the bites and scratches in his red hide and the bits of nest still in his mane and tail and the brown vest he’d donned in hopes of working alongside her.

Then she was laughing, merrily and musically, and he joined with his deep, warm chuckle.

And then he was kissing her, or perhaps she was kissing him - they never knew who started it, and they never cared, because their bruises and bites and best-laid-plans were forgotten and all was right in the world.