Fall From Grace

by AuroraDawn

Rating: mature
Tags: Spitfire, My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic, Soarin, Original Character, Tragedy, Slice of Life, Sex
Length: 4216

Afterburn wonders where he bucked up

Afterburn's life was perfect. From the money, fame, and fans all the way to the gorgeous mares like Cloud Cover, nothing seemed like it could go wrong. Now, Afterburn finds himself paying flight school drop-outs for a quick romp in an alley with the last of his bits.
Where did it all go wrong?

Published 2012-04-02 04:24:02 UTC
Last updated 2012-04-02 04:24:02 UTC

Chapter 1

Fall from Grace

By AuroraDawn

I used to be a Wonderbolt, you know? Had the time of my life. I was flying, doing amazing tricks, partying night after night, and getting all the hot young mares.

Now I’m sitting on some back-street cloud, plowing the shit outta the plot of some cracked-out pegasus. I’ve got no fortune, nopony knows my name, and I’ll probably catch Hoof and Wing from this lay.

Where did it all go wrong?

That’s all I can think about these days. Where it all went wrong. I think I’ve almost nailed it down pat, though. Pinpointed possibly the very instant that I went from being the famous Afterburn, the Wonderbolt’s most esteemed flier, to Afterburn, paying flight school dropouts the last of my bits for a quick fuck. It was either the moment she yelled stop, or the moment the Royal Guard did the same.

I was never very good at stopping. Not at all. It’s why my cutie mark is flaming skid marks. It’s why ponies ask me if my mane is actually this short, or if I torched it off on touchdown. I think, however, I did pretty damn good stopping those two occasions. Maybe that was my problem.

I suppose it’s just easiest to start from the beginning, like I’ve done a thousand times before in my mind, and I’m doing again now. I don’t think Miss Foaming-at-the-mouth will mind. So. The beginning.

Fuck me.

12 Months Earlier

“Afterburn! Afterburn! Please, a moment for Cloudsdale at Seven! Can we get a quick interview?”

Ah yes. Those were the days. Back when everypony loved me. I winked at the reporter and turned to her, singling that beautiful pegasus out from the rest of the news crews. Mind you, back then, every mare was beautiful.

“Well, I’m sure I could spare a few minutes for a gorgeous mare like you. When’s the camera start rolling?”

“It’s rolling already, Afterbu-”

I remember this clearly. I leaned in close and kissed her. Hard. She almost fell through the cloud beneath her, she was so taken aback. And then the look. The quick flash of those golden bedroom eyes before her professionalism took over and she recovered. I love a hard worker like that. Damn sexy is what mares like her are. Where was I? Oh, right. I spoke again, before she could get a word in.

“Mmm, congrats. You’ve got video evidence to show your co-workers that you kissed a Wonderbolt. Whattayah got for me, darling?”

In an instant she was back at work, microphone to her lilac muzzle and a camera in our faces. “First thing’s first, Afterburn. That trick you pulled at today’s show. Do you have a name for it? Can we expect to see more new astounding stunts such as that in the future? And what’s your inspiration for attempting such dangerous actions?”

“What’s your name, hon?”

“Cloud Cover, Cloudsdale at Seven’s very own ‘Eye in The Sky’.”

“Well, Miss Cloud Cover, I call that specific trick ‘Warming Sun’. To penetrate the overcast, you know?” I winked again. I do that a lot. I probably chuckled at my corny joke, too.

Cloud Cover smirked at me, catching the euphemism immediately. “Wonderful, Afterburn. Are you planning any more new tricks soon?”

“I’m always coming up with new ideas. But I can’t take all the credit, of course. Everyday life inspires the basic ideas, but I couldn’t complete a single act if it weren’t for my amazing Wonderbolt family. I owe every one of them my whole career.” This was bullshit, of course. Don’t get me wrong. I loved every single one of those ponies like brothers and sisters. It is a team effort, and the group training is invaluable. I’d gladly spend the rest of my life with them if they’d let me.

But I totally came up with all those tricks.

“Thanks, Afterburn. Your words inspire thousands, and your actions even more. Just one last question if you have time.”

“I’d love to answer your question, but your camerapony appears to be walking away.”

“Oh, yes, we’ve filled up all the time in our segment already. So, Afterburn... You doing anything tonight?”

How I loved my job.

“Well, all of us Wonderbolts are heading to the Mile High Lounge after the debriefing. You’re more than welcome to join. Just leave that microphone of yours at home, okay babe? A few of us... well, let’s just say we’ve got a wild side we don’t like to advertise.”

I did give that mare fair warning.

“That sounds great. I’ll see you there.” In a move most unbecoming of a professional reporter, she slapped my ass as she walked away. I may or may have not whinnied. What? If you’re rich and famous, you can just buy more dignity.

Soarin’ was laughing at me. I would have hit him with a sarcastic wing flick, but he was on the other side of the table, and by then I had drunk enough I probably would have hit myself instead.

The Mile High Lounge was--is, I guess, things may have changed by now--the Wonderbolt’s hangout of choice. We got booze at ten percent above cost, two free platters a night, and a private booth. Oh man, those booths. I don’t know how the owner managed it, but those velvet benches were comfier than the clouds they were built on. We sat in the far corner from the door. From our booth, we could see the stage clearly, but it didn’t obstruct the view of the small dance floor in front. The bar was unfortunately on the other side of the club, but who cared? They delivered every drink to us by hoof. Sometimes I wondered what kept them from just giving us drinks for free. Then I would close an eye and actually see how much shit was on our table. We’d drink them out of business in a week.

It’s hard to keep focus these days. Every time I think of something, it reminds me of something else. I keep ranting to myself in my head, and to what end? I’m still here, sweating on this mattress which looks suspiciously like it was pulled from a dumpster two years ago.

Right. Soarin’. He had just finished his fourth beer and had ordered another before pointing and laughing at me.

“I tell you, Afterburn. If you could fly as well as you could pick up mares, we’d all be out of a job. Mind you, if you could pick up mares as well as you can fly, well... You’d probably never know the feel of a good plot.”

“Really, Soarin’? You of all ponies telling me I can’t fly. The irony is delicious.”

“Oh yeah? Who just won ‘Fastest in Class’ at the Exhibitions?”

“I’m not sure, but I can tell you that whoever it was, they’re pissed you took their trophy.” I smirked and took another swig of my drink. Tomato juice, worcestershire, tabasco sauce, and a couple shots of rainbow juice. And the vodka, my bad. That’s the most important part. It’s a spicy drink, all right. It’s called ‘The Manager’. Feels like a boss yelling at you. Good for forgetting about that, too.

“That’s hilarious, Afterburn.” Spitfire was leaning heavily on Soarin’, and her words were slurred as she spoke. “But Soarin’ won that fair and square. They even had a ceremony an’ everything.” She looked into Soarin’s eyes and licked her lips. They didn’t date each other, of course. Spitfire just got really horny when she was drunk.

“I am impressed, then. You must have sucked off a lot of stallions to bribe them.”

“Well, what can I say, Afterburn. You lead by example.”

“Touché.”

“Excuse me, Mr. Afterburn,” a large bodyguard stallion spoke softly, stealing my attention away from our grand battle of half-wits, “There’s a pegasus out front that says she’s a friend of yours.”

“Oh, for Luna’s sake, Afterburn. Another one of your buck-buddies?” Spitfire sighed and slid farther down Soarin’, her eyes glazing over. Soarin’ reached over the mare to grab his new drink and leaned back to enjoy it.

“Calm down, Spitfire. It’s not like we don’t always enjoy the company of A.B.’s many annoying and obnoxious fans. Right, Afterburn?”

“Shut it, Soarin’. She’s not a fan, I hope. What’s her name there, mack?”

“Cloud Cover. Cute little filly, got a short mane like yours. Speaking of,” he chuckled, “did yours burn up whe-”

“When I touched down, yeah yeah, I know. Bring her here, will yah?”

The bodyguard didn’t move. He seemed rather disappointed that I didn’t laugh at his joke.

“C’mon,” I ushered him. “Kindly fuck along now. Shoo.”

I sat back and closed my eyes, enjoying my drink. I was getting tired of seeing two Soarin’s. The two Spitfires in my vision had been a saving grace, but she’d fallen under the table. I couldn’t help but smile. Being light as a feather is one thing. Feeling that light on top of it, thanks to alcohol? Some of the other Wonderbolt squadrons dove into drugs the night after they were initiated. Not for me, no thanks. Being drunk was enough of a high.

I was lucky. Spitfire and Soarin’ are hard workers, alright. They knew how to have a fun time, too, without getting messed up. Damn lucky. If I had gotten stuck with one of those other squadrons, shooting up during the debrief, I would have quit within seconds. There’s the real irony, I suppose. Celestia-damn, I can’t even remember this pegasus’ name. Whatever, she doesn’t matter. Cloud Cover does.

“Afterburn?”

“Cloud Cover, I presume?”

I turned around to greet her, and my jaw dropped. Gone was her jacket and polished boots. Instead, she wore navy blue scarf, complimenting her light purple coat. And... that was pretty much it. I tell you, you think just because half the ponies you see are naked you get desensitized? Totally wrong. Nothing like a well-toned mare flicking you with her tail while she shakes her ass inches away from you. You’re damn right I popfeathered. I knocked over my drink.

“You presume correctly,” she spoke.

That voice. I’ll never forget that voice. Even when dressed casually in the company of some drunk celebrities, she still spoke with a firm intensity. I mean, damn. I was supposed to be the smooth-talker here, and there she was, seducing me. I remember being mesmerized as she continued.

“It’s alright if I sit here, right? I’m not interrupting anything, am I?”

I looked across the table. Soarin’ was leaning back, his front hooves crossed behind his head. Just at the edge of the table I could see Spitfire’s mane rhythmically bobbing up and down.

“...I don’t think they’ll notice.”

“Wh- oh my. Should we give them some privacy?”

I laughed and ordered two more drinks. “Nah. They’ll be done soon enough, and besides, we’re sitting in a public lounge. So,” I distracted her, “What interests a cute little filly like you in a handsome stud like myself?”

Cloud Cover giggled and ran a hoof through her short mane. “Couldn’t tell you. I think it was that kiss, maybe. My boss won’t let me live that down, I’m sure of it. They’ve already got a print of the still hanging in the break room.”

How I wish I could kiss that muzzle again. I long for it. Why is it that memories always reveal so much more than you noticed when you lived the event? Bah... Why waste the time regretting it. No point, you know.

“Well, then, you’re welcome.” I leaned in and kissed her, pulling her into the booth with a hoof. This time, however, she kissed back. It was glorious. Time became a bit of a blur to me, then. It didn’t happen often, but it wasn’t some rare and mystic event either. My heart raced, I remember. When we finally broke, Soarin’ was smirking at us while Spitfire wiped her muzzle.

“Soarin’, Spitfire, I’d like to introduce you to Cloud Cover.”

“Hey, I know you,” Spitfire hiccuped, offering her just-used hoof to Cloud. “You’re the Eye in the Sky.”

I knew Cloud Cover was perfect for our group when she shook the hoof without hesitation.

“Pleased,” Cloud nodded. She shook Soarin’s hoof and sat down, sipping her drink. “So, uh... you two a couple, now?”

“Celestia, no,” Soarin’ chuckled. “She’s just drunk.”

“Damn,” Cloud swore. “I was hoping to get an edge on that story.” She stuck her tongue out after a beat, and the other two Wonderbolts relaxed. Probably glad she wasn’t actually looking for something to report.

“You may kid,” Soarin’ smiled, “but I’m sure you’re just itching to pull out a notepad and start scratching down every word we say. All the reporters are the same, even the stallions. We’ve seen it a thousand times, haven’t we, guys?”

I had to nod in agreement. He was right. You meet a lot of ponies when everyone knows you, but you never actually... meet them. You meet who they wish they were, and try to be. The media especially, ugh. But there was something about Cloud, something that told me otherwise. I’m sure she’d take a story if she could get something respectable out of us, but she wasn’t actively investigating us.

Hah. Something respectable. I haven’t laughed in a while, I needed that.

“H-hey, Soarin’.” Spitfire had just ordered a coffee, sobering up as best she could before the flight home, and was sprawled halfway on the table as she waited. A goofy grin encompassed her muzzle as she stared at Soarin’.

“Yeah, Swallowfire?”

“Shut it. Remember when that one colt honestly thought you were gay? Oh, that was mint.”

Oh yeah. I remember. It was pretty funny. When we were on tour once, this stallion photographer kept taking photos of Soarin’s ass. Soarin’ posed for laughs, and then we went on our way. Three hours later, same colt shows up at the hotel, knocking on Soarin’s door. If I remember correctly, he ran away from the room crying when Soarin’ answered, naked and erect with a mare leaning under each wing.

I felt bad for him, don’t get me wrong. I may or may have not tried to console him. I drank a lot that night. I drank a lot for many nights. I drink a lot. Fuck, I’ve ruined my life. ...Right, that’s what I’m thinking about, shit. Back on track again.

“Oh, that was hilarious. Did you guys see the look on his face when he ran away?” I laughed and took a large swig from my glass.

“What’s even funnier,” Spitfire snorted through her mane, “was seeing him leave your room the next morning.”

I mumbled weak denials, right on cue, as the other two glanced inconspicuously at Cloud Cover. When she didn’t even make a move for a notebook or quill, we all burst out laughing.

“What’s so funny?”

Soarin’ was the first to catch his breath.

“Oh, shit, Afterburn, you finally found one. Congratulations, buddy.”

Spitfire settled down and grabbed her coffee from the waiter, grinning from ear to ear. “Who woulda thought Afterburn would be the pony to find a reporter not interested in us.”

“I’m sorry,” Cloud cut in, her strong voice silencing all of us. “I don’t get what happened.”

I reached my hoof around and pulled Cloud Cover close to me, squeezing her soft coat and probably maybe grabbing her plot. No guarantees. We were all still chuckling softly when I explained everything.

“We repeat that story as a test, yaknow? To see if you honestly just wanted to hang with us, or were faking for a story.”

“Oh, I get it now. So you’re not bisexual?”

I laughed and stroked her mane, savoring the moment. I drained the last of my drink in a large gulp, turning her head to mine and leaning in close.

“Well, would you like to find out, hon? We do have to get up early tomorrow for our next show, but I’m sure I could squeeze you in between my few scheduled hours for sleep.”

Cloud Cover kissed me on the cheek before grabbing her drink again.

“No can do, fly guy. I’ve got work tomorrow too. But I figured I was good for a night out, you know?”

“I can respect that. Sometimes it’s hard to just relax, you know?”

Soarin’ leaned forward and caught Cloud Cover’s attention with a shake of his head.

“Hey, listen, Cloud Cover. You’re cool. It’s not often we find a pony who actually just wants to hang with us for who we are. We’re cruel, dirty, and incredibly offensive at the best of times.”

Cloud Cover interrupted Soarin’. Wow. That was new to him, I tell you. The look on his face was priceless.

“Well, that’s the kind of personality I look for when relaxing. I mean, you spend all day pretending to be this posh, civilized pony when you’re really not, and you’re constantly surrounded by others pretending just the same... It’s just so easy to let it all go.” As if to prove her point, she slammed her drink and belched.

It took all my effort not to push her on the table and fuck her right there. Thank god for common sense. Soarin’, I’m sure, was having the same thought, and Spitfire had reached across the table to shake Cloud’s hoof while she giggled at Soarin’.

“Stop moaning, Soarin’, and finish what you were saying.”

“I. Uh. Right. So, most ponies only put up with us for the ‘honour’ of talking to a Wonderbolt. You strike me as a pegasus who’s hanging out with us because she wants to. So, to be deliciously ironic, I’ve an offer for you.”

“Please, Soarin’, I’m not even about to screw Afterburn right now, and he’s got the best chance. I like getting breaking news the honest way.”

“That’s sweet, Cloud, it really is, but that’s not what I meant. Besides, it’s usually Spitfire who offers sex for gossip.”

“I don’t usually give them gossip, either.” She frowned, her eyes looking sad. “I’ve yet to find a stallion who really deserves it, you know?”

Cloud Cover raised her glass towards Spitfire, and they toasted. “Oh, I know all about it. Alright then, Soarin’. Get on with it. What did I win for being fun?”

“Fun and sexy,” I added, my hoof massaging Cloud’s wing joints. Looking back on things now, I can’t believe I didn’t try for an honest relationship with her. She was so perfect. Her voice, that muzzle, how she could kiss... Her professionally pruned feathers had ruffled under my touch, her soft coat shimmering in the dim lights of the booth. Something about that lilac colour of hers refused to let my eyes go. I couldn’t stop staring. She was beautiful. And there I was, rubbing her back and groping her ass like a moron. Whatever. She liked it. Those playful winks... the lick of her lips, her hoof on my rear leg... Oh, Luna. I’ve got to stop getting so stuck on her. I’m getting nowhere on this train of thought.

Soarin’ had grabbed a coffee by now and was sitting normally as he spoke to Cloud Cover.

“You promise not to go all fangirly on us, and we’ll give you exclusive rights to cover our events. V.I.P badge and everything. You get front row seats, back room access, and the freedom to publish whatever the buck you want about us. Just... keep being awesome. You try and press us on an issue we don’t want to talk about, you’re out. Sound good?”

“Well, as long as I get to stay with you ponies without having to suck anypony’s cock, that sounds real good.”

“Don’t even worry about that. Even if Spitfire’s not in the mood, I’m sure I can convince Afterburn with a couple shots of brandy.”

“We promised not to talk about that.”

“And you promised you wouldn’t invite any more reporters to the table.”

“This is true. So I shall escort the reporter from the table out of fear of you discussing any more of my weaknesses.”

“And such exploitable weaknesses they are, too.”

Cloud Cover frowned as I started pushing her out of the booth, sliding with her.

“I thought you guys said I was okay to stay with you.”

“You are. But there’s one last thing I need to know about you.”

“What’s that?”

“You’re sexy to the point of it being painful, you’re smart and sneaky, but I have no idea if you can dance.”

“Well of course I can-”

“Then prove it, filly.”

That was the best thing I could have said. Or the worst. You know why? Because she led. Man, that was embarrassing. And so hot. I like a mare that takes control, especially when I’ve already established myself in a position of superi-... Okay, nope, can’t think that with a straight face. I tried, though.

Cloud Cover unfurled a wing and pressed me forward to the centre of the dance floor, just as the DJ kicked into one of her faster songs. The beat was hypnotic, and soon we were both bobbing our heads and tapping a hoof in rhythm. Cloud Cover started after the intro, leaning into me and swaying, her head whipping sensually in conjunction with her hips, her wings flapping and curling in acrobatic and mesmerizing motions, her mane flowing through the air in slow motion, those eyes, those great, playful, pink eyes staring at me and daring me to dance with more passion, her legs sliding and flicking with expert grace and timing, her, her, oh Luna, I miss her so.

I’m sure I must have gaped. I’m positive my muzzle was open, drooling, but soon the music turned louder and the bass infected me too. I danced, shaking my shoulders and flank to the tune, ducking my head and nuzzling Cloud as we both moved, two fluid beings connected by a sudden kiss, immediately one, grinding our flanks together, checking each other playfully to each thump, thump, thump of the song, daring to engage in hoofplay reserved for only the most talented of dancers and laughing with glee as we failed spectactularily. This isn’t where it went wrong. This is where it was all right. Nothing could ever be wrong about that moment.

How could I have been so stupid to just ignore how I felt then? Fucking regret. Hindsight isn’t twenty-twenty, it’s freaking X-Ray vision. If only I had recognized what Cloud Cover was back then.

Maybe none of this shit would have ever happened, maybe I wouldn’t be reviewing my life as I thrust once again into this mare who is either groaning in ecstasy or withdrawal. Maybe there’s too many maybes. Who knows.

“So,” Cloud finally spoke to me, “Can I dance?”

“Can I fly?”

“Well, you’re stunningly handsome, suave and charismatic, but I have no idea if you can fly.”

“Oh, hah. I get it. Well, you want to see me fly? You wanna fly with me right now, pretty pegasus? Because we’ve got two wings each and the door is five steps away.”

Cloud Cover somehow managed to brush her bangs from her eyes. I still don’t know how, or where the length of her hair came from for her to do it. But she did it, alright. She smiled weakly at me.

“Well, Afterburn, I’d love to see you fly. But, I have work in the morning, and you’ve worn me out. How about a raincheck?”

“You know, Afterburn, all of the mares you spend a night with say that.” Spitfire was leading Soarin’ towards the door and they had paused by me and Cloud.

“Say what? The raincheck part?”

“No, the ‘worn me out’ part.”

“I don’t particularly remember you telling me that, Spitfire.” I turned back to Cloud and looked deep into her eyes, speaking- for what was probably the first time in my life- from my heart. “Sounds good, Cloud Cover. Whenever you want to fly with me, just give me a call.”

I walked Cloud to the door with my wingponies behind me. There was more witty banter here, I’m sure, but the last end of that conversation eludes me. I wasn’t listening to anyone but Cloud Cover. The last thing I remember that night were her parting words.

“You can always call me too, Afterburn.”

The flight home is a fog to me too, but that was probably due to all the vodka and rainbow juice I had that night. But I will never forget Cloud’s parting words.

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First and foremost, I’d like to thank MaverickVox, PonyMarine, Autumn Wind, and Jabberwocky Superfly for their help and support.

Disclaimer: This is a work of fan made fiction, based on the animated show “My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic.” I do not own, nor lay any claim to My Little Pony or any related intellectual property.

This work was made entirely for entertainment value and as a tribute to the amazing work of the Friendship is Magic production team. It is not, and will never be, distributed for profit.