• Published 15th May 2013
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Xenophilia: Shotglass Oneshots - TheQuietMan



Ficlets, short shots, one-offs and random tales from the Xenophilia universe.

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18: (B)itch by VelvetHeart

(B)itch by VelvetHeart

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The large barn doors produced an audible thunk as they finally settled in place, casting the dusty air within in a half-shade, cut only by the orange beams of light shining in through the western window high above.

With a grunt, Lero set down the final basket of apples of the day, only to see the massive scarlet stallion by his side shift his own much-heavier load upon the ground.

Big Macintosh groaned and stretched his neck, "That'll be the last bunch for t'day, 'less you're interesting spending the night pickin' out the bad ones." The smirk he aimed in the human's general direction got a similar answer.

"Bite me." Lero jokingly snapped back, one hand patting his friend's withers, only to stop in hesitation as he saw Big Macintosh' expression collapse into a frown.

"Now Ah don' quite know how your herd goes 'bout it, but on this here farm, we ask politely. We don' demand." His frown evaporated, "But yer' a friend an' I unnerstand if yer' be needin' help. I'll bite yah if yer' willin' to do the same for me. Where're you itchin'?"

Lero blinked, baffled for a few moments, before his memory gently reminded him of a mutual pony grooming custom. "Wait, what do you- oh. No, no, I don't literally want to get bit anywhere. It was a figure of speech; I can scratch myself just fine. Humans use our fingers, we don't need to ask for help." To demonstrate, he ran his fingernails through his hair, across his back-end, and even twisted a little to reach the spot between his shoulderblades for a good scratch.

"That there is mighty handy. Like having a set of extra mouths at the end of a set o' big ol' flexible necks. But that ain't helping me none, I'm still itchin'. Could you please use yer' fancy fingers, right there just 'bove my cutiemark?"

"Well, I suppose I could. Back where I'm from, scratching another guy's backside would be pretty awkward." Lero began vigorously running his fingernails along the slightly-sweaty coat, "Although I suppose biting another human man's backside would have a whole set of different connotations than it would for a pony."

Big Macintosh' answer was little more than a groan and a set of rolling eyes, his body leaning slightly into the hard-working fingers. "Right there. Oh, that's been itchin' up a storm. Now move up a lil'. There. More to the front."

Lero couldn't help but smirk as the big stallion melted into the scratching like the gentle giant he was, obediently following suggestions as he ran his hands along both sides of the massive pony's barrel, leaning in as he worked further and further up his friend's body.

"Yer' like a whole herd worth o' scritchins, Lero. Ah hate t' ask, but can those fingers o' yours also get that itch under mah yoke?"

The human snickered and rested his elbows on his friend's back, lifting the yoke slightly while his nimble, if now very dirty fingers dipped underneath. The result was a very deep, rumbly groan.

"Oh, yeah, Applejack's friends might'a been right after all 'bout yer fingers."

CREAK

"There! There! That there angle! Yes!"

Lero stopped. That last sound wasn't one of his friend's noises. Turning his head, he found himself eye to eye with... a rather stunned-looking Applejack standing in the half-opened barn door. Confusion struck, followed by a sudden understanding as he took a moment to re-evaluate the situation laid out before the farm-mare: Him, draped across a groaning Big Macintosh' back, hands clamped over his yoke, his groin pressed firmly against the stallion's taildock...

"This isn't what it looks like!"

Applejack stared. Big Macintosh turned even redder.

"Your brother asked me to scratch an itch of his!"

Applejack sputtered, went quiet, and after a moment, finally asked,

"Can Ah... watch?"

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