• Published 11th Feb 2016
  • 1,997 Views, 61 Comments

A Spike of Remorse - Moonlit Sparkle



Five years have past since Spike became part of the Sparkle family. Starting middle school should be easy for the young boy, right? If only things were so simple.

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Sports, Flings, and Personal things.

Spike’s eyes took it all in at once and he was completely unsurprised to see that class had already started. All the students were already running laps around the gym. The boys all in outfits similar to his own.

He was tardy, he was late, he had missed who knows how much of class already; but, at this moment, at this time, he just couldn’t find it in him to care. He started to stammer over to the instructor on the other side of the gymnasium.

He made it three feet before hearing. “Spike‽”

If an angel had a voice it would’ve sound just as sweet as the one that called out to him.

His body felt numb, his heart felt dead, and yet there wasn’t a force in this world or the next that could have stopped him from looking up.

Sprinting to him from where she was running with the rest of the class was Sweetie Belle. It was almost like she was his own personal savior, like her entire purpose in life was simply to show him that—even with all the horrible things that had happened today—life wasn’t that bad after all.

The green-eyed, pink and purple haired girl was wearing her gym uniform like all the other girls. Her shirt a standard white shirt that clung tightly to her twelve-year-old frame. Her shorts were black bloomers that were just as tight as Spike’s was starting to feel.

The pasty girl wasted no time wrapping Spike in a big hug. “I didn’t know you were in this class! We’re going to have gym together this year! Great!”

At that moment, Spike felt several conflicting emotions: He felt his heart rocket up into outer space, fireworks going off, he felt the desire to cry out in pain and anguish, and to just unload on the poor girl. He felt like grabbing her and running away, just leaving and taking her someplace he could protect her from all the horror that he had been through, and… he felt something else. His palms were sweaty and his heart was racing as he felt Sweetie Belle hug him, her chest pressed against his.

But beyond that, most importantly of all, he felt.

“Spike, are-are you okay?” Sweetie pulled away and asked, as after several moments, Spike had yet to return the hug.

Spike didn’t trust himself to talk. Rather he simply wrapped his arms around her and pulled Sweetie in for another hug. His hands rested upon the small of her back and tears started to fall anew from his eyes. Whereas before they had been tears of pain, these were tears of joy.

“Spike, what’s wrong?” Sweetie asked. “What happened.”

“N-n-nothing, just… just don’t let go.”

“Spi—”

“Hey! You two! Quit making puppy dog eyes and get over here!” The coach’s voice rang out over the loud talking of the other students, startling the two hugging sixth graders.

They immediately broke apart, Sweetie blushing and staring at her shoes. Spike just stood there with clenched fists, trying not to let the tears fall.

What was I thinking. Almost breaking down in the middle of gym just because Sweetie Belle is here? After all that crap that just happened to me I couldn’t even be strong enough for her, to believe even for one second that I was okay. Pathetic. Now I’m going to get her in trouble and for what? Just because I couldn’t handle a little bully problem? I don’t deserve her…

“Today please!” The coach called out again, spurring them into motion. With one last glance to each other they ran over to the other students.

The next thirty minutes were the slowest, most annoying minutes of the little green-haired boy's life. The very nature of the class meant they couldn’t stay together, and that pained him more than he could say. They ran, they did stretches, and they ran some more. The entire time felt like the coach was trying to push them past their limits, and on the first day!

This is ridiculous. Who does this guy think he is? Freaking Bulk Biceps? At least we have free time now for the next twenty minutes. I just want to sit here—

“Spikkkkeeeeeeee” Three girlish voices called out, startling the young boy where he sat on the boys’ side of the bleachers.

Most of the students had dispersed to go play some sort of game within the large space of the gymnasium. Some were playing basketball, dodgeball, or just games they made up on the spot. Others were playing card games, hand games, or even just drawing in their notepads.

The young boy had made it his goal to avoid everyone, to just sit on the bleachers and cool off from the torture regime the instructor had put him through. He was sweaty, stank, and beyond tired. He had just wanted to disappear, to not be him.

What Spike hadn’t expected was for his girlfriend, and apparently their two other friends, to come grab his arms, pull him off his feet, drag him to a corner of the gym, and shove a large red dodgeball into his hands.

Spike looked down at the ball in his hands then back up at his friends.

The three girls were smiling brightly at him, each standing in a half circle in front of him, blocking out the rest of the world.

They were a couple of inches taller than him, their tight-fitting gym clothes hugging their curves with the grace of a wrapped up present on Hearth’s Warming Eve.

Oddly enough, for once in his life, the young boy wasn’t sure if he was excited or nervously terrified of the thought of opening up those presents.

What is wrong with me? These are my friends and I’m thinking about them in ‘that’ way? They are beautiful and the gym uniforms just praise their bodies well, showing off all the things RIGHT about the girls. Why do my own shorts feel so tight right now? Why is it so hot? I wasn’t even this hot running, but right now it feels like I’m the sun or at least somewhere close to the sun. Why are they looking at me like that?

“Spike, are you going to play with us or just stand there with that dumb look on your face?” Scootaloo spoke first, her arms crossing over her chest pulling the shirt tight and causing Spike’s eyes to lock on her.

“Scoots, leave the poor kid alone, he’s probably winded after all that runnin’. I don’t think the Sparkles ever get much exercise, well besides Shining Armor. He looks like he works out everyday!” Apple Bloom said, throwing her arms into the air before dropping them and shaking her head.

Sweetie Belle was quiet, her hands wringing in front of her as she shifted from foot to foot. Her eyes flickered between Spike and Scootaloo, noticing the young boys line of sight.

“Ohhhh, you’ve been checking out Shining there, AB? He is kind of a stud,” Scootaloo said as she grinned wolfishly, wiggling her eyebrows at her red-haired friend.

“Ah was not! Ah just saw him with his shirt off one day while he was helping out mah big brother build the chicken coop!” Apple Bloom’s voice raised an octave, her tiny hands clenching at her side as she pressed her nose against Scootaloo’s to get in her face.

The two bickered for a few more minutes, Spike and Sweetie just staring on. Spike at certain aspects on the girls that he really shouldn’t have been staring at.

The two girls chests pressed against one another as they tried to stand taller than the other, their chests puffing out to intimidate the other.

Spike felt his mouth drop open, the ball fall out of his hands. He couldn’t pull his eyes away from the two girls and was thankful that they were in a corner where no one was paying attention to them. He could feel something stirring in his lower extremities. Something foreign and new, but welcomed whole-hearteningly with the feelings it brought.

Sweetie Belle frowned, her eyes locked onto her boyfriend’s. She wasn’t even getting a second glance from the young boy, and she could tell by the look on his face that he wasn’t going to be giving her any notice any time soon. Her eyes glared at him as she looked at what he was seeing, her two friends were practically rubbing their tits together in an effort to show each other up. With a look to Spike, she saw a very obvious sign that he was enjoying the show from his tight shorts. So without a second thought, she stepped forward, kicking the wayward ball out of the way, and wrapped her arms around the boy pressing her chest against his.

The young girl blushed brightly but held him tighter, and then did something neither of the four expected. She took a step forward pushing into him completely.

Spike’s mind went blank, he could still hear his friends bickering but it sounded like they were miles away, an echo on the wind. All of his senses were now focused on the sweet smelling angelic girl holding him tight to her chest.

Spike had experienced a lot in his young life. This? This was something the young boy didn’t know how to process. For the first time in his life Spike Sparkle could not get his thoughts together. His mind kept being torn between the feeling of her chest, and a feeling of him pressing against something, down there. A feeling the shorts did nothing to damper, and everything to enhance.

Apple Bloom and Scootaloo stared, open mouthed. They backed up a step from each other and watched as Spike’s eyes glazed over.

The young boy could feel Sweetie Belle shift slowly, the small movement causing him to panic and shift his own hips backwards. His tiny hands flew up to clench around her short clad waist, he missed; his hands didn’t go high enough, his fingers dug into the black cloth of her bloomers. His mind soon had another sensation that fought for his attention, the feeling of Sweetie Belle’s butt in his hands.

“I-I-I—” Spike’s mouth worked, trying to form words, but there was no connection between his vocal chords and his brain. Synapses in his brain were firing off, but none of the signals would make the situation better, it just caused the horrified-embarrassed-and now lustfilled boy to do something he might regret later.

“Uh… Sweetie Belle?” Scootaloo called out, her hands clasping behind her back as she blushed, embarrassed by her two friends PDA display. What she was seeing was beyond obvious. She could see Spike’s hands on her friend’s ass. She could see them pressed against each other, and she knew if she could, so could others.

Apple Bloom proceeded to turn around, her own hands clenching by her sides as she blushed, staring at the waxed floor.

Neither of the three girls had actively talked about, nor had they any experience with boys before. Spike was their friend, but the three of them were best friends. They shared everything with each other, they never had secrets, and when they fought they worked it out together. Sure Apple Bloom nor Scootaloo cared much that Sweetie decided to express her feelings for the young green-haired boy, but this was a little much. Especially on their first day together.

A whistle rang out then, the shrill warning giving them a ‘get out of an awkward situation’ free excuse.

Sweetie let go then as she tried to back up a step. It was then she had to accept where Spike’s hands were—where they still were. “Spike, umm…” Sweetie stammered, not knowing how to tell him to let go of her ass, or why she almost didn’t want him to.

“Oh, sorry,” Spike said as realization hit. He let go, moving his hands to his side and looking down. Looking down proved to be a mistake, as it brought attention to the tent in his shorts that he hadn't been fully aware had occurred until now. With a deep blush, he spun around and adjusted himself.

Sweetie Belle had seen it, she had felt it, and she was just as embarrassed as he was, but another part of her was somewhat pleased that she caused such a reaction in him. Her hands clasped in front of her once more, having the unintentional effect of pushing her budding breasts up even higher than they normally sat in her sports bra. Her feet shifted nervously as she looked at the floor. Even separated, she could still smell his sweat, his scent on her. That smell caused a small smile to cross her face.

Scootaloo coughed, kicking the tip of her tennis shoe into the floor.

Apple Bloom shifted so she was half facing her friends but refused to turn back around.

All four remained quiet, listening to the shuffling feet of the rest of the class as they made their way back to the locker room to shower and change for their next class.

“We uh… we should get going,” Scootaloo whispered, her hand coming up to point her thumb towards the girl’s locker room.

“Eeyup,” AB added.

“Alright,” Sweetie Belle whispered, she turned around then and walked between her two friends, grabbing their hands and pulling them away.

“Sweetie Belle,” Spike whispered dreamily, his strength gave out and he fell back to the wall behind him. His left hand coming up to clench his shirt just above his heart, the organ thumping rapidly in his chest as his brain processed the emotions he was feeling at the moment.

“Hey, Genius Boy!” A voice called out to him, his smile instantly shifting to a hate-filled scowl.

Spike stood up straight, his hand dropping down to clench at his sides as his eyes searched around for the person the voice belonged to.

“Up here, loser.” The voice called from above him, causing him to look up.

From the tallest tier of the black-painted wooden bleachers stood Bask Flare, leaning over the side railing. Next to him was Strife and Buck, both were grinning down at him wolfishly.

“What’s going on, Genius Boy? Having a private moment to yourself in the corner?” Bask asked making a jerking motion with his hand, causing his two companions to break out with harsh laughter.

Spike could feel the tears forming in his eyes, but fought them down, his throat constricted as he clenched his teeth.

Just don’t respond, just don’t. It won’t help any. Words can’t fix this, no matter what Twilight says. This won’t get better, I’m going to have to deal with this for the rest of middle school.

“What’s wrong loser? Trying to get your rocks off. Go ahead, we won’t get in your way,” Bask said, before receiving a punch in the leg from Buck. “Dude ow! What the hell man?” He swatted at the black-haired boy.

“What the fuck is wrong with you bro, I don’t want to watch the little twerp jerk off,” Buck said before standing up and looking over the guard bar. “Hey loser, why don’t you just do us a favor and punch yourself in the nuts. Then we’ll all be satisfied.

Strife snorted, standing up as well and pushing his two friends aside.

“How about instead you just get lost. It’s not like you’re wanted around here anyways. I bet those three girlfriends of yours just feel sorry for your poor little cry-baby self.” The two-tone haired boy laughed hard then before turning around and making his way down the steps.

His two lackeys grinned once more at each other, their mocking laughter echoing around the empty gym. They quickly shot one last mirth-filled glance at the small boy before taking off to follow their friend.

Spike’s body shook, his body could no longer support himself so he fell to his knees.

No…

The young boy’s head dropped, tears began running down his cheeks, in an almost never ending stream. Sobs tore through his throat, his hands curled into fists on the smooth flat surface of the recently waxed bright yellow wood of the gym floor. He could see his reflection in the wood, the tear streaked face that looked back at him was almost unrecognizable to him.

I’ve been smiling for so long now that I forgot what it felt like to feel this hopeless.

His hands lifted, small fingers curling under his eyes, wiping smooth fingertips against his burning cheeks.

I can’t remember the last time I felt like this, like my life didn’t matter. Even with the high points, did those moments outweigh moments like these? The ones that make me feel worthless, useless. Like I can’t stand my ground, like if tomorrow or even a moment from now I disappeared. Would I be missed? Would I be remembered? Or would it be a relief. To my family, to my friends. To Sweetie Belle? To… Twilight?

Spike’s throat closed up. The tears once again flowing, his hands covering his face as broken sobs echoed around him. He didn’t even have to strength to care if someone found him like this. The thought of being a burden to his older sister, the first girl he ever loved. The first person to give him hope, friendship, a home; it was too much to take.

“T-Tw-Twilight,” Spike whimpered, his heart breaking. Twilight’s soft, caring voice rang through his head then.

“I was scared on my first day too. Just remember to have confidence in yourself. Don’t let the fear get to you, and know if you ever need to talk, I’ll be here for you. No matter what.”

“Thanks, Twily. You’re the best B.S.B.F.F. I could ask for.”

“And you’re the best L.B.B.F.F. I’ll ever want, Spikey.”

Spike froze then, his heart beating loudly in his ears.

Slowly, slower than he had ever done before, the young boy got to his feet. He could hear the shuffling of shoes leaving the locker rooms as students proceeded to leave the gym for their next class.

He quickly walked to the edge of the bleachers to peer over them.

Apple Bloom, Scootaloo, and Sweetie Belle were talking excitedly. The girls were already showered, changed, and exchanging high fives with each other as they left down the main hall with the other students.

Strife, Buck, and Bask were making their way out a side door along with some other older students. The three boys were laughing loud, swiping at the dress skirts uniforms the girls wore.

Spike glanced down at his gym uniform, biting his lip he pulled at the elastic in his loosened bottoms. The small black shorts had lost their tightness the moment his anger struck, but he could now feel the aftereffects.

He felt drained, sad, depressed, and even a little bit of something he didn’t know what to name.

Twilight’s right. I can’t let fear control me. I need confidence. They can’t hurt me unless I let them. I’m stronger than this, if I can’t do it for myself I’ll do it for my friends.

“Confidence,” he whispered before straightening and making his way to the locker room. “I can do this.”

***

“I can’t do this.” Spike’s voice echoed around the empty shower stalls of the boys locker room.

The small boy looked down to she showers, the tall shower heads and seafoam green tiled floor sending shivers of nervousness down his spine. There was no shower curtains like at home. Just a long smooth plastic bench that sat in the middle of the room and about ten showerheads on each side.

The small boy had his towel slung across his shoulder, his gym clothes still on while his dress uniform sat nice-like on a hanger in his left hand. He was grateful that he hadn’t had his shirt on earlier, and that his shorts had avoided any sort of soaking from the water, otherwise he didn’t know if he could bring himself to wear the clothes for the rest of the day. The trip to the bowl was embarrassing enough, he didn’t want people to think he wet his pants too. Not that anyone would ever truly know what had happened to him in the locker room.

Spike casted one more glance around the entirety of the room before looking behind him to make sure no one had entered.

“What’s the big deal, Spike? You’re all alone, no one's going to—” Spike paused his mumbled words, frowning. “Let’s not come up with any ideas that might happen and just get this over with.”

Slowly, he sat down his towel on the bench, hanging up his uniform on a convenient hook in his locker.

His quick shower earlier had been on autopilot, going through the motions as anger and numbness boiled through him.

Now, he had to get fully undressed once more, shower quickly without getting caught by the instructor, get dressed, run to whatever his next class was and pray to Celestia his next teacher doesn’t get upset with his tardiness.

With a sigh, he sat down on the cold plastic bench, his hands dropping to unlace his tennis shoes. One by one, he undid his laces and took off his shoes. He placed them beside the bench to put back into his locker later. His socks came off next.

Spike paused to look down at his feet, they were beyond smelly. Reaching in, he took out his shower slippers and placed them on the floor. His shirt came off next. he placed the wet garment on top of his shoes and sighed, knowing that there were only two pieces of clothing left.

Best get it over with, before the next class starts showing up. In one fluid motion, he stood up, pulled down the last pieces of clothing he had on, tossed them over to the pile, and wrapped himself in a towel.

He grasped the dirty clothes with his free hand and held the towel closed with the other. Spike walked over to the shower and deposited his soiled clothes into the bin next to the open showers.

He cautiously went to one showerhead, and, with one more look around to make sure no one else was there, he hung his towel on the hook and turned on the shower.

The water came out cold at first, but then warmed up. Spike sighed as he got under it. The feeling of the water running down his head was like all his worries slipping away. It gave him time to think, time to think about something other than the bullies and how bad the day had went.

His thoughts turned to the best-worst thing they could, Sweetie Belle. As he held his hands to the soap despencer, he couldn’t help but remember the feeling of her soft, tender flesh. And even her pressed up against his...

He blushed as he realized he was having that problem again, the one Sweetie had caused when she hugged him. Shaking his head clear, he concentrated just on getting clean, scrubbing himself down real quick, washing, and drying himself off.

He went back to his locker and started getting dressed, something that he expedited with the sounds of other boys starting to arrive. He threw on his underwear and pants, socks and shoes, and then his shirt. Not knowing how long he had been in there, Spike didn’t bother to tuck in his shirt and just put his bowtie into his pocket as he went to leave the locker room and go retrieve his books and class schedule from his wall locker.

The locker room door slammed shut when the young boy left, the sound echoing around the empty gym. Spike paused for a moment, his eyes searching for an exit that didn’t require him to go past the instructor's office door.

Spotting the exit he saw Strife and his goons use earlier, Spike made his way across the gym to the exit, halfway to his freedom a heavy hand came down hard on his shoulder pulling him to an immediate stop.

“Well, well, well if it isn’t the little puppy-eyed boy. What are you doing out here so late? You got a knack for showing up after everyone else, and apparently leaving after everyone else too.” The instructor from earlier said as he spun the young boy around to face him.

“Sir I—”

“I don’t want to hear your excuses. I’ve heard it a million times from a million other students, you’re bashful, shy, don’t want to shower or change in front of others. Listen son, the sooner you get over it and realize that no one cares, the easier life will be for you.”

“It’s… I…” Spike looked down at his shoes, he couldn’t deny those reasons, but they weren’t the only reasons.

“Look at you boy, your uniform’s all tilted. You’re buttons undone, shirt not tucked in. Do you have any pride in yourself? For heaven's sake son, at least respect our school enough to wear the uniform right.”

“There’s nothing about this school to respect,” Spike mumbled under his breath as he started to tuck in his shirt.

“I don’t want to hear it, boy. You’re a little trouble maker, aren’t you? Stop that,” The instructor reached down and snatched the little boy’s arm away from his shirt, holding tight to the small wrist the man shook his other finger in the boys face. “If you don’t have the time to put it on right in the first place you don’t deserve to wear it at all! I have it in my right mind to take you to the office right now and—”

“No sir please! Please, I can wear it right I was just—”

“Don’t interrupt me, boy.” The man shook Spike’s arm, glaring down at him. “Just because your parents pay for you to go to this school doesn’t mean you can walk around like you own the place. Your teachers aren’t your servants, you can’t just talk to us however you want, don’t you interrupt me again!” The man shook Spike again as he went to protest, his mouth snapping shut. Tears had started to form in the young boy’s eyes again, terrified of the man and the thought of going to the office.

“Don’t you start crying, boy. What’s your name?”

“S-Spike Spar-Sparkle, S-sir” Spike forced his words between scared stammered sobs, as, for the first time in his life, he was about to be sent to the office on a disciplinary infraction.

“Well Spike Sparkle,” The instructor sneered, “You and I are about to make a trip down to the office and we’ll see how much longer you’ll be able to disrespect our school.”

The instructor pulled Spike by his wrist down the main hall and out the door before the young boy could say a word.

Celestia save me.

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