By Comet Burst
“Well, I can’t say I wasn’t expecting this,” Lace said as she looked around the room.
“What does that mean?” Lance replied, gently pushing his way past her.
Lace gave a soft growl and bit at his tail, but Lance managed to take a long enough stride that all her teeth caught was air. Still, the act had its benefits, for Lace as she got a good look at Lance’s rump. A smug smile crept up as she admired the toned quality of the muscles, but Lance began to turn around and she averted her gaze to the room again.
It was a large living area with wooden floors and a large brick fireplace on the far right wall. In front of it was a wide round rug with an ancient key pattern around the border and two sitting pillows in the center. Next to the door sat a squishy-looking couch, just big enough for two ponies to sit or cuddle on. In the back were two hallways leading in opposite directions and a single door, which sat wide open to reveal a bathroom behind it. The walls were mostly blank, save for a spear and shield hanging above the fireplace and several candleholders strewn about.
All in all, it would have been a place Lace could have gotten used to, but it screamed one thing: sterility. The walls, the couch, and even the rug were a pristine white, while the bricks of the fireplace were scrubbed clean. The wooden floor was the only thing that looked remotely dirty, but she could tell it had been swept and cleaned recently.
“No wonder you’re still single,” Lace said. “It looks like a grandmare lives here.”
She looked at Lance, who glared daggers at her.
“No it does not!” he roared. “I cleaned the place up to make my guest feel more welcome!”
“Lance, I feel like I need a bath just to walk in here,” Lace said, raising an eyebrow. “And then I need to be wearing a sundress and drinking tea to sit on the couch.”
“Whatever,” Lance grumbled, turning away and walking to the hallway on the left. “Be as sarcastic as you want. I don’t care what you think of my home or how I live.”
“Seriously, Lance. If there was a table with porcelain figurines somewhere in this house, this place would pass for a matron’s residence,” Lace called, taking a tentative step into the room.
Lance turned the corner, but froze as he saw the dresser in his room. Atop it were some lovely looking porcelain statuettes, each depicting a beautiful mare in a silken dress and gorgeous hoofpainted flowers.
“Oh, buck,” he whispered. How could he have forgotten to put those away?
Just as he took a step forward, he heard a burst of maniacal laughter. Spinning around, he saw Lace laughing her flank off and pointing at the dresser behind him.
“You actually have those!” she screamed between laughs.
“They were a gift from my mother!” Lance yelled back, his face turning beet red.
Lace fell to the floor, overcome with laughter as Lance turned around and practically ran into the room, his armor clinking as he did. Once inside, he threw a nasty look at Lace before slamming the door shut, hoping it would muffle her. Unfortunately, the walls and door were thinner than he realized.
Turning back to the statuettes, he grumbled incoherently as he trotted to a closet beside the dresser. Opening it, he saw the familiar ponyquin inside. Thanking Celestia that he remembered to put that thing away, he dragged it out and began unbuckling his armor.
Outside the door, Lace finally stopped laughing and turned away from the door, looking down the opposite hallway. From this vantage point, she saw a brown cabinet sitting on the cleanest-looking checkered-tile floor the world had ever seen. Since snooping was one of her favorite pastimes, she immediately trotted over to the cabinet, only to be blown away by the rest of the room.
While the rest of the house screamed that Lance was a neat freak, the kitchen was far from the spotless standard she had come to expect. Dishes piled up near the sink. The trash overflowed with a small mountain of clear glass bottles. Half-eaten sandwiches and morsels of meals long gone littered the counter. While no ants had found the mess, Lace could see them marching around on the opposite side of the window above the sink, searching for some way to get in. Glancing back at the cabinet, she raised an eyebrow and smiled mischievously.
Reaching up, she grabbed one of the shiny brass handles and pulled the door open, hoping to find some sort of dirt she could use on Lance. Upon seeing what the cabinet held, however, made her smile drop into a gaping hole as she stared in awe of its contents. Rows upon rows of glass bottles lined the interior, each with a different colored liquid housed within. While Lace was not a drinker herself, she still could tell the seven kinds of whiskey apart from the fine wines made near the Frozen North and even the bottle of vodka whose label was written in another language. She let out a small whistle as she glanced over the rest of the contents before gently shutting the door.
“Wonder what else he’s hiding in here,” Lace mused.
So far, Lance had a pretty jarring presentation of his home. While prim and proper on the outside, it seemed that there was evidence of something far more sinister in here. She couldn’t help but smile more deviously as she looked back towards his, no their bedroom and wondered what treasures lay in there. The porcelain figures were probably just the tip of the iceberg.
She took a few silent steps down the hallway before she heard Lance’s telltale grunts coming from the other side of the door. She paused, her ears sticking straight up as her grin widened even more. Lance continued to grunt louder and more frequently, causing Lace to take a few more steps until she was right in front the door, pressing her ear to it.
“Come on,” Lance muttered, followed by the sounds of shifting armor. “Just get in there.”
Lace had lived at a brothel long enough to know what a grunting stallion was doing in a room all by himself.
“Oh, Lance, you dirty colt,” she whispered, feeling a tingle of electricity run down her spine. “Sounds like you need a little… assistance.”
She reached up and fluffed her bushy mane before pulling part of it over one of her eyes. She flashed her best seductive grin and put a hoof to the doorknob. If all went well, perhaps she’d work the liquor in later. She was pretty sure he’d go crazy for her after seeing what she could do with an empty bottle or, better yet, a full one.
“Dang it! Get in there!” Lance nearly shouted.
Her imagination running wild, Lace turned the knob and slowly opened the door, unwilling to break his concentration. When it was open just wide enough, she slipped into the room, looking at the wall to the right of her the whole time. Once she was in, she turned to the bed, expecting to see Lance lying on his back with nothing more to hide.
Much to her surprise, he wasn’t there.
Looking around the room, she froze as she saw his back to her, devoid of armor and propped up on a ponyquin. The dummy wore a suit of golden armor very similar to the set Lance had worn earlier. Lace to knit her brow. Her seductive grin quickly became a disturbed frown as he wiggled around on it.
“Just get it the hole!” Lance commanded, pushing himself farther on top of the ponyquin.
Lace was sure her fragile grip on reality broke in the silence that followed. Lance grunted once more and made a small jump, his hooves leaving the ground. From this view, Lace could only imagine what life was like on the battlefield.
“So, you’re into colts?” she asked. “That explains a lot, actually.”
Lance seemed to jump at the sound of her voice, scrambling to get off the ponyquin. The chestpiece fell off the dummy and landed with a soft thunk on the carpet.
“Lace! What the buck are you doing in my room?!” he shouted, his face turning bright red.
“Well, I thought you were indulging yourself and I came to help, but I see you have all the toys you need,” she said, nodding to the ponyquin.
Lance tilted his head.
“What? What are you—”
He asked before looking at the dummy. “Oh, no. No, no, no, no, no! This is not what you think!”
“I saw you mounting it, Lance. I’m not judging you.”
“I wasn’t mounting! I was trying to get my armor to stay on it!”
“Looked like you were getting ready for a wild fantasy with another guard back here,” Lace said with a smirk. “I’m not usually into voyeurism, but I’d watch that.”
“Ugh, shut up! Just shut up!” Lance shook his head in disgust. “What the buck makes you think I’m into stallions?”
Lace took a step forward and locked eyes with him.
“Lance, you decorate your house with porcelain figures, have enough liquor to get a platoon wasted, and have scared off any mare assigned to you. If you just come out and say it, I can leave and they’ll assign a nice stallion to you.”
Lance’s eye twitched.
“I am not a coltcuddler!”
“Lance, it’s okay if you’re into stallions. If you want me to stay, we can even have a few over if you want.”
“Oh, my Celestia! Shut up about it! I’m into mares, not colts!”
Lance heaved a few heavy breaths as Lace watched him with mild interest. As they stood there, she suddenly had a devilish idea.
“Then kiss me,” she said.
Lance froze, a disgusted look on his face.
“What?”
“Kiss me. That will tell me if you’re lying or not.”
Lance’s mouth twitched as he furrowed his brow, a bewildered look replacing the disgust.
“No! I don’t know where your mouth has been!” he cried.
Lace allowed a small smile to grace her snout.
“Then I’ll go and leave you to your little buddy. I’ll inform Rosy and Emerald it won’t work out since you’re into colts.”
As she turned, Lance grabbed her foreleg. She glanced at his forehoof and back up to him. His face was locked into a scowl. A small twinge of fear ran through Lace’s chest. He did look rather intimidating when he was angry, but she retained her smile.
“I hate you,” he whispered as he leaned in and closed his eyes. Lace’s smile became wider as he met her lips.
Right from the start, Lace knew Lance had very little experience in romance, but the kiss seemed to demonstrate his ineptitude more than any words could. He was stiff, pushy, and totally felt like a rock, but she had been through worse. She slowly moved her lips around, trying to get him to part his, but they remained resolutely shut. If he had ever kissed a mare before, it was clear he had yet to experience the magic the tongue could work.
Still, this had other benefits besides gauging his romantic abilities. Since she forced him to make the move, it was a sign of how much control she was gaining over him, a thought that made her internally smile even wider.
If it was this easy to just get a kiss from him, then breaking him would take even less time than she anticipated. Three weeks? At this rate, it would be a week or less before she had him right where she wanted him.
As Lance pulled away, he scowled once again, knowing Lace was going to make some crack about his poor kissing ability. It was a good thing she’d never know that she was his first kiss by a mare outside his family. He shuddered a bit as he imagined the torment he would receive if she ever found that out.
“Okay, I can guess one of two things from that,” Lace said, staring into Lance’s eyes. “Either that was your first kiss or you like colts.”
Lance’s pupils dilated at that. In the far recesses of his mind, he wondered just how much she knew about him or if she could read his thoughts.
“Think what you want,” he said, turning and walking out the door. “I know I’m not into colts.”
As he left, Lace followed him with her eyes, admiring his flank again. Coupled with the impression of the kiss, her mind began to make some rather interesting images of the two of them.
“Oh, you poor, poor thing,” she mumbled, placing a hoof on her bottom lip. “This is going to be so much fun.”
Lace wasn’t sure how, but she came to the startling realization that she was lounging on the couch when a swift knock was heard at the door. She glanced up and looked about the empty room as Lance sat on the floor, his eyes glued to a book that came seemingly from nowhere.
“You want to get that, Lance?” she asked before rubbing her head into the hoofrest.
The silence that followed was broken by another knock.
“Really? Just going to ignore me and whoever is at the door?” she said, lifting her head and raising an eyebrow.
In response, Lance turned the page before another knock came, this time more forceful than the previous ones.
“Wow, real mature, Mr. War Hero. I can see you being a big hit at the Summer Sun Festival,” Lace quipped, throwing her own mean look at him.
“I’m not expecting any company,” he said in a toneless voice as he continued to read.
“Jeez, and ponies say I’m crazy. At least I have enough manners to open the door when somepony knocks,” Lace grumbled before the door was pounded on again.
“Corporal Golden Lance, are you there?” called a stern voice. “We have a parcel for Ms. Chains.”
Lace froze, staring at the door while Lance continued reading.
“If it’s for you, why don’t you answer it, Ms. Perfect Manners?” Lance asked.
She immediately turned to him and threw the meanest scowl she could muster before rolling off the couch. Begrudgingly, she walked over to the door and opened it, revealing several more stern-looking guard like the ones earlier today.
“Well, I should’ve expected this, too,” she mumbled as the guards turned their gazes down to her.
“Ms. Chains, we have your supplies from your home to make you feel comfortable,” the lead guard said as a dingy box was carried up to her by the others.
Despite the disheveled appearance, Lace was actually surprised by how big the box was. It was carried by about three of the guards, which made her wonder if they brought only essentials or the whole room. With a round of audible grunts, the box was placed on the threshold. The guards all nodded crisply before turning and marching back towards the street.
Lace risked casting a small glance behind her to see Lance peeking up at the box before quickly returning to his book, pretending to not be interested. Spurred on by his actions, Lace grinned once again and decided to do something really dumb.
“Oh, wow!” she gasped as she opened the box. “This’ll be great!”
She could almost hear the dread building in Lance’s chest. She reached in and grabbed the first thing she could see, which so happened to be her faithful brown whip. Pulling it out, she placed the end in her mouth and cracked it once, causing Lance to nearly sprint out of the room.
“Wonderful!” Lace said around the object in her mouth. “Momma missed you.”
“What the buck is wrong with you?!” Lance shouted, his face turning red again.
“Me? Nothing!” Lace shouted back, a mad look in her eyes.
Before he could say anything further, Lace whipped her head back, letting the whip fly out of her mouth and drape itself across the spear on the wall perfectly. Both of them watched the whip fly, Lace’s eyes gleaming while fear and anger seethed in Lance’s.
Turning back around, they stared for a second into each other’s eyes.
“Don’t!” Lance roared, but Lace had already turned around and began digging into the box.
Objects not meant to be seen outside of a brothel suddenly sprouted wings as they made their way around the room, finding themselves dangerously close to Lance’s possessions. He shouted and fought his way over to Lace, but stopped to pull a set of silver chains from the mantle of his fireplace before a black mask nearly hit him in the face. What looked to be a body sling landed directly on his pillow and nearly tripped him, but he got to the door without being caught by the implements of sin.
“Lace, stop!” Lance grabbed at her flank to instead have a set of books placed in his hooves.
“Find somewhere for those!” Lace called from the box. “And beware the pages that are sticking together!”
Lance looked down and nearly retched when he read the first title.
“Where am I going to put these?” he roared at her flank.
“Presumably the bathroom!” Lace called back from inside the box. “You’ll get more use out of them there!”
At that, Lance practically threw the books halfway across the room and, after wiping his hooves on his coat, reached out to grab Lace once again. Thankfully, he managed to wrap his forelegs around her barrel and pull her out of the box.
“Hey! Put me down!” Lace shouted as she began to kick.
Lance happily obliged and dropped her onto the couch, where she rolled over and looked up at him with a pouting face. Lance responded with the most serious scowl he could.
“Listen here,” he began, his voice wavering. “I am ordered to give you shelter and companionship, not to be your little plaything! I will NOT tolerate you throwing your disgusting toys all over my home, I will NOT allow filth like those books to reside anywhere in this place, and I will NOT take orders from you!”
For the first time since meeting him, Lace felt herself inching backwards at the infuriated snarl on his face. His eyes were pinpricks and his teeth daggers, looking like he would spout fire at any moment. She hated to admit it, but he could look like a hardened killer when he wanted to.
“Do we have an agreement?”
Wordlessly, Lace nodded.
“Good,” Lance said, backing away a bit. “I need a drink now. These things of yours better not be here when I get back, got it?”
Lace nodded again as Lance grunted and turned around, carefully stepping over all the various toys littered about the room.
Once he rounded the corner, he breathed a sigh of relief as his best friend since the war, the liquor cabinet, came into view. He pulled open the creaky door and blindly grabbed a bottle from the interior, popping the cork off with his teeth. After spitting it over at the counter full of dirty dishes, he swept his head back and began to drink from the bottle like he had just run a few miles in the desert. The burning taste of scotch, made him squeeze his eyes shut, but the pain faded as the bottle got lighter.
Eventually, he pulled it away and hissed as his head began to spin. It took a few shakes of his head and a steadying hoof on the table, but the room finally stayed put. Taking one more swig of the scotch, he walked out into the room to notice it was, much to his surprise, clean. Lace sat on the couch, watching him with an innocent expression while he scratched his head.
“What? Where did you put all the stuff?” he asked. “I was gone for, like, three minutes.”
“More like thirteen,” Lace said.
“Really?” Lance asked. “Well, I’ll be. At least my home doesn’t look like a sex shop anymore.”
He blinked a couple times, allowing the liquor to dull his headache.
“Well, uh, it looks real nice. Thank you for cleaning it up.”
Lace blinked and tilted her head.
“What was that?” she asked.
“I said thank you,” Lance replied. “Don’t make me say it again or I’ll take it back.”
Lace blinked again as a sudden cold feeling filled her chest. Lance thanked her for doing something nice? She wrestled with her newfound confusion as he trotted over to his room.
“Hey, I don’t remember shutting this door,” he mumbled as his hoof reached for the knob.
Lace’s eyes widened as she heard the door open, followed by Lance shouting at the top of his lungs.
“Lace! What the buck did you do to my room?”
Lance stared in horror at his room, perfectly outfitted with all of the toys that had been in his living room. His ponyquin wore the latex outfit over the armor and had the body sling draped over it, the sticky-paged books sat on his nightstand, and the porcelain figurines now sat next to wooden carvings of ponies in positions that would make his mother faint.
“Oh, I thought our room looked pretty drab, so I spruced it up!” Lace called from the living room, a playful tone in her voice.
Lance continued to stare at the room, his jaw slack before he shook his head and brought the bottle of scotch back to his muzzle. He would need the whole bottle and maybe a few more before lights out.