No Need For Words
View Online

No Need For Words

Strobes flash across the floor and walls. Lasers shoot through the air. The lights glow in an amazing display of color reflecting off every surface they could. Through it all, ponies dance.

The bass thumps and shakes your body. Your fur feels like it’s fizzing. Waves of sensation crash over you. You move yourself around to simply feel the beat everywhere you could. It is a wonderful feeling.

Suddenly, the feeling stops. The ponies and lights calm down. They look up to the one who brings you such wonderful feelings. The white unicorn looks over the crowd through her purple shades. You see the DJ, her blue streaked mane glistening with sweat. She is obviously enjoying the evening as much as you are. She raises a hoof and the crowd responds, wildly thumping their own hooves the floor.

Everypony is happy. Everything is good.

You sit and close your eyes, waiting for her to cause the bass to wash over you again. This DJ was always your favorite. She knew how it was supposed to feel. Others could just not match her flow. Her rhythm. Her beauty.

You had developed a little crush on the mare DJ when you began coming to this club, as silly as it may be. It was the way she moved. Wild and free. Yearning to feel more as she let the beat all run over. You could see her hairs stand on edge when she’s up there while the ponies dance. She understood.

You imagine what it would be like to be able to meet her. However, you had no idea what you would say. There is really nothing you could say, sad as that was. You wait patiently for the sensations to take your mind away.

Suddenly, your vision goes bright. You open your eyes again, but need to squint. There is a spotlight on you. Everypony is looking at you. They look annoyed. Their mouths are moving. You see the DJ lower her hoof, probably using it to point at you before. You spin your head around the scene in confusion.

They begin to look more and more irritated. You begin to walk backwards, off the dance floor. Some look angry. Some shake their heads. Worst of all, the DJ looks at you with a frown. You feel your cheeks grow hot as you walk over to the bar of the club.

The barcolt is cleaning a glass when you sit on a stool at the counter. He looks up. He knows you. You nod at him. He puts the glass down and turns away to the bottles.

You can feel the beat and rhythm returning, but not as strong as on the dance floor. You would rather not go back right now. Maybe a drink will help you forget the embarrassment still burning in your cheeks.

The barcolt puts a drink in front of you. It is today’s special. You are not picky and do not care what it is. You take five bits out of your bag and put them on the counter. You have no idea how much this drink actually costs, but the barcolt takes them. If it is too much, he deserves a tip. He is a good pony.

The drink seems to glow different colors with the lights in the club. You sip at it. It is bubbly and you let it cover your tongue. A sensation other than the music right now is welcome. You let it slowly slide to the back of your mouth, tingling and burning all the way down your throat. You give a small cough. The drink is strong. You take another sip.

The barcolt goes back to washing his glasses. He would chat with other ponies, but not with you. You know why. It was a frustrating process when you first attempted to do so. Time consuming. Time you know the busy barcolt doesn’t have.

You stay at the bar with your thoughts. Going between the embarrassment, the confusion, and the frustration. You sip at the drink every now and again and keep letting it wash over your tongue like you had done with the beat before the incident. Somehow in your thought process, you remember the way the DJ looked at you. The DJ who always made you feel good. You feel your insides knot up with shame.

Your drink was nearly gone. You felt warm and fuzzy. You give a sigh that attracts the barcolt’s attention. They raise an eyebrow at you. They were concerned. You nodded that you were fine.

The barcolt points up to a clock on the wall with his hoof. It was almost 20 minutes past closing. You wonder how you were able to space out for that long. You nod again and take one last sip of your drink before the barcolt takes the glass.

You slide off the stool and try to stand. Your legs still work, albeit they feel a little numb. You try to shake a little feeling into them. They do not feel better but they will have to do. You begin to walk out.

You take a few steps before you feel something poke you in the side. A pony’s hoof? You turn to see yourself reflected off a pair of purple shades. It was the DJ, of all ponies. The light reflects off of their white fur and blue mane. They do not look happy.

Her lips are moving. You do not understand. Why would she talk to you? Was it because of earlier? Your ears drop back as she finishes. You can't respond. You feel your insides twist again.

She moves her lips once more, looking angry. You feel like you're shrinking under her gaze. She waits. You say nothing. You see the barcolt call to her. As she turns, he begins to say something. You don’t know what he said, but the DJ looks back to you with all malice out of her expression. It’s replaced by wonder and disbelief.

She turns to the barcolt again and says something. The barcolt takes out a notepad and a pencil. Levitating both with her magic, she begins to write something before turning it to you to see. Her writing is elegant and pleasing to the eye.

You nod. She begins writing again.

You gesture for the notepad. She gives it to you and you place it on a nearby table. Taking the pencil as well, you begin to write. It’s not as pretty as hers, but it’s not bad and communicates what you are trying to say.

She looks at you carefully, as if she thinks you’re playing a trick on her. Eventually, she takes the pencil again and writes. You begin taking turns with the notepad.

You pause as you think of how to explain it.

You try to think of what else to write.

Before you give it back, you write one last thing.

She smiles. A wonderful smile, one that lifts you out of the despair of her frown moments ago. She begins writing.

She looks at you for a moment before writing again.

Her writing gets slower near the end. You gesture for the pencil.

She looks and then opens her mouth in a big smile, exhaling sharply and repeatedly. You believe it to be laughter. You hope she’s not laughing at you.

She calms down and takes the pencil again.

You feel a slight twinge of guilt as you remember the incident on the dance floor. Taking the pencil, you decide to ask a question.

You nod, thankful for the explaination. She suddenly gets a bright look in her eye and starts writing.

You look at her with a raised eyebrow before taking the pencil back.

She just looks at you with a smirk before writing.

She tears off the address from the rest of the page and sets it in front of you. With a wave and another smile, she walks back towards the stage to pack her equipment. You probably shouldn’t bother her with more questions if she is busy. You walk out of the club with the address and a bubbly feeling of giddiness.

Tonight was a good night.

~~~~~

You walk down three blocks from the bakery towards 5th street. The store was there. An old two-story brick building painted white with the sign “Scratch Record Store” over the front door. A large window displays pieces of musical merchandise along with a sign advertising cassettes, CDs, and, as the name would imply, records.

As you walk to the door, a sign catches your eye. The store’s business hours. It said they close at five today, but didn’t the note tell you to come at six? You push lightly on the door with a hoof. It opens. You walk in slowly, a little cautious that ponies might not be welcome here at this time.

You look around and see aisles of racks of music. Categorized by media: CDs, tapes, records, and more. Categorized by genre: rock, pop, rap, jazz, metal, classical, and many more to list. Categorized by bands alphabetically, none of which you knew. On the walls were some posters of ponies with instruments, some yelling into microphones. Some posters simply of a band’s logo. Some of them had autographs scribbled on them. The front counter was a glass case with a cash register sitting on top of it. The case contained some cords and pedals and other things you aren’t quite sure of, all for various prices. On the wall behind it are a couple guitars, a keyboard, and some records sets in big boxes.

As you look around, you notice a flight of old metal stairs leading up to a door. It opens to reveal the DJ, only this time without her shades. She looks at you with her magenta eyes and smiles, walking down the stairs and ducking under a sign that says “DO NOT ENTER” hung across with chain. She walks over to the door and turns a latch with her hoof to lock it. She motions for you to follow her as she ducks under the sign and walks up the stairs again.

You unhook the chain, move around it, and put the hook back when you reach the stairs. The door at the top opens into a hallway with four doors, two on each side. You see the DJ go into the first door on the right. You follow her and nearly stumble on some wires that lay across the floor.

You look and see her give you an apologetic look before picking up a notepad and pencil with her magic. As she writes, you look around. There are two big speakers facing the center of the room. Between them is a turntable like the one she performs with at the club, hooked up to a pair of computer monitors. Shelves of records align one wall while shelves of CDs align another. A poster of herself is hung over the monitors. It reads, “Vinyl Scratch: DJ PON3” and depicts her playing on a turntable in front of a crowd with lasers and glowsticks.

Vinyl Scratch. Was that her name?

Suddenly, she holds the notepad up for you to read.

She sweeps around the room with a hoof dramatically.

You motion for the notepad. She holds it up with her magic for you to write.

Instead of answering, she smiles and puts the notepad down while walking over to the turntable. She puts on some huge headphones that reminds you of the kind construction ponies wear when they use loud tools. You sigh a little inwardly and resume looking around the room.

As you let your eyes wander, you feel a wave wash over you, like needles poking into your skin and throbbing. You grimace and double over, but as soon as it had started, it stops. You look up to the DJ (Vinyl Scratch?) who takes a hoof off of the turntable and runs beside you, her eyes filled with worry. She quickly grabs the notepad again.

You nod and gesture for the pencil.

You feel the pencil being lifted from your mouth.

You nod again.

She looks at you with a confident smile before wrapping a foreleg around your shoulder. Her touch is soft and warm.

She pulls you a bit closer.

Helping her. You felt yourself swelling with excitement, almost like you were about to lift of the ground at any moment. If the wonderful DJ needs your help, you will be there, rain or shine.

With a single nod, you agree.

~~~~~

The next few weeks are interesting. You meet with Vinyl (as you learned was, in fact, her real name) in “the lab,” as she calls it, after the shop closes to begin experimenting with beats and rhythms. Some are fast and made you want to move. Some are slow and pleasant, like standing in a warm shower. Some tickle, some hurt, some made you feel anxious or relaxed. She writes questions and you answer with your own observations as she copies your findings into other notebooks.

Over the time you got to work with her, you find yourself admiring her even more. Her usual enthusiasm is always infectious and there is something cute about the way she pouts when trying to find the perfect pitch. There are also times that the two of you just hang out that you very much enjoy. You maybe get something to eat and talk about the musical things in her store, personal things going on, or just about anything. Notebook upon notebook are filled with your conversations.

Then came her first show since you started. The lights flash, the ponies dance, and you were backstage behind the turntable giving various signals to the DJ about whether to raise the treble, slow the beat, or anything to be able to make the music feel as good as you imagine it sounds.

She yells something over the audience. They all raise a hoof before stomping the ground. With that, Vinyl’s show is over. The ponies begin to exit as you help her pack up her equipment.

You catch her staring off every now and again into the lingering crowd of ponies finishing up their last drinks. Mostly couples, marefriends and coltfriends, laughing with each other. As you finish packing all the wires into bags, you look over to see a very somber expression on Vinyl’s face. You pull out your notebook and write before getting her attention.

She stares at it before she takes the pencil with her magic.

You look at her message with confusion. Was it a piece of equipment? A certain rhythm she meant to use? Perhaps she left her wallet at her store?

Before you can ponder it fully, she writes again.

She walks off with her things before you can respond. You guess you’ll just have to wait.

~~~~~

You decide to head off for Vinyl’s shop early that day. If whatever you had forgotten was important you don’t want to waste any time getting to the lab to help her. Walking in just a few minutes past closing, you notice that Vinyl is currently ringing up a customer. A purple unicorn with a dark violet mane along with a colt who is furiously blushing and hiding his face.

Vinyl seems surprised by your early arrival. With a sheepish grin, she puts a hoof around the back of her neck as she levitates the notepad in front of her.

You shrug. Vinyl’s place wasn’t the cleanest you’ve ever seen, but you think you can handle it. You gesture for the notepad.

She smiles before taking the pencil.

You follow her up the metal stairs and into the lab.

...Wow. Wires were strewn everywhere, equipment of all kinds is scattered around, and crumpled papers litter everywhere they could be. She immediately uses her magic to scoot some of it around while giving you an apologetic look. You shrug again to let her know it’s fine.

As she sets aside the last pile of stuff, she takes brings up the notepad again. You look over her shoulder to see her write.

You nod.

She pauses before continuing writing.

Another pause as you notice a tiny bit of blush on her face.

She gives you another coy smile.

You could only stare at the page while your mind processes the words on it. Physical contact was shared between you two before: high hoofs, hoof shakes, forelegs wrapped around each others shoulders, even a full hug here and there. But this... this was to reproduce conditions as if you two were truly together. You feel a little warmth in your cheeks, guessing that you’re blushing a bit like her.

Still, you simply nod, happy to be of service.

Her smile turns a little more genuine as she puts on her special headphones and walks over to the turntable. Twisting some knobs and positioning some sliders, she walks back to you, taking position in front of the speakers.

You look forward and start leaning yourself slightly to the side. You feel the hair of your fur begin to mix with Vinyl’s, but stop, unsure how far to go. However, she leans herself, slowly pressing her length against you. Her body feels so warm under her white fur. You can feel her breathing in and out.

The two of you stand there against each other for a few moments. You notice her horn light up, her magical aura highlighting the ON button before you feel a rhythm.

The process goes as any normal testing day would. You feel the beat thumping, the sensations dance across your skin, but this time it was a new experience as you also feel them through Vinyl as your bodies are against each. They seem to pass the beats back and forth making the moment feel more... intimate.

Every time a beat ends she would go back to the turntable to make her necessary adjustments and write down her notes. She asks you what you think and you respond, all as if everything was normal, except for a lack of her normal enthusiasm.

You notice that she tries to avoid looking at you. That she hesitates every time you need to put yourselves together. That she sometimes runs up to the turntable as if happy to get away from you. You wonder why and your mind wanders in the possibilities, making you doubt yourself more and more with every passing moment.

What if she doesn’t really want to do this? That pressing up against you is unpleasant for her? What if she is disgusted by it? You think about your time with her. Had the work she shared with you, the time you spent together; had it been out of pity because of your condition? And to think that you had... That you still...

You sigh and sit on your haunches as she readies the next rhythm. She looks over and pulls out a notebook and pencil. She writes something, but hesitates again, making you feel worse. Eventually she floats it over for you to see.

You hang your head for a moment before gesturing for the pencil.

She looks surprised at your words before writing again.

A guilty look appears on her face as you continue to write.

A sense of grief settles in your chest as you write your next words.

You suddenly feel hooves on your forelegs interrupting your note. You look up at Vinyl who is looking directly at you and saying something, but you do not know what. She picks up the notebook with her magic again.

Looking at her, you can’t help but question her recent actions. She sees this and begins to write more.

She lifts the pencil up in a pause before continuing.

She lifts it up again, looking at you. This was the complete opposite you’ve ever seen her. Instead of happy and outgoing, she looks despairing and withdrawn. You can’t help but feel responsible for this in some way. More bitter shame piles onto the amount you were feeling for making tonight so awkward.

She puts the pencil back on the page of the notebook. You both just sit there, waiting for the words to come out on the paper. Why would she ever say you’re perfect? Why would she ever really like somepony who’s deaf?

The pencil and notebook begin to tremble. She’s obviously having trouble writing it down. You just sigh, look downward, and close your eyes. You really wish you can just have her say it. You wish everything didn’t have to be so difficult with you.

You begin to feel something. Air faintly blowing over you with a light scent of mint and vanilla... You open your eyes to see Vinyl has moved much closer to you, making you nearly jump back in surprise. The pencil and notebook are on the floor. She stares intensely at you before closing her eyes like you did. Instead of looking downward, she leans forward and touches her lips to yours.

It is very brief. The contact is soft, like silk. Even in the short time, the taste of her is distinctive. You feel a shiver of delight run through your body. In a single moment, all of the despair you were feeling was gone. Replacing it was a light sense of bewilderment over a growing sense of exhilaration.

When she opens her eyes again, she looks deep into yours. She looks pleading, almost desperate. Her eyes with a sheen as if tears are about to form. The sensation still fresh in your mind, you feel the sides of your mouth turn upward. Spreading across your face in as big a smile as you can. You lean in to touch your lips together again, for a moment longer. You pull back, she looks in disbelief, a smile forming over her own beautiful face. To extinguish any sort of doubt, you nod your head slightly in assurance.

Her smile grows back into the confident, spunky personality you’ve grown to admire. She lunges at you, wrapping both hooves around your neck, pressing her lips against yours more forcefully than before. Now dependant on you for balance, you keep your hooves on the ground and just lean into her as much as you could. You feel her lips begin to part as you let her tongue slip into your mouth.

Your tongues meet for a second before she pulls away again. You’re confused as she lets go of you, but seeing her smirk lets you know she has something planned. She wraps a hoof around your foreleg as she leads you down the hall. She opens the last door on the left and brings you inside.

A bed with white linen sheets and blue blanket sits against the wall next to a nightstand across the room from a dresser. Some papers and pencils are scattered around the floor. You don’t get to take in the scene long before you’re shoved onto the aforementioned bed. At this point, you realize the beat research has been put on hold.

Climbing on top of you, Vinyl begins to speckle your chest with light kisses before making her way up your neck back to your lips. She will not be denied entry as she forces her tongue into your mouth yet again. As your tongues dance with passion between each others mouths, she wraps her hooves around your head. She pulls you closer, kissing as hard and hungrily as possible. It’s incredible seeing that she wants this as much as you do, if not more. You wrap your hooves around her back and neck as you feel her exhale into your mouth.

You push her away breaking the kiss and gasp for air. You see Vinyl still has her mouth open, wanting more. She closes her lips in a smile, her tongue still sticking out not yet ready to go back yet. She slides down and drags her tongue across your jawline. You shiver with pleasure feeling her warmth leave a moist trail across your fur. She scoots over, lying down beside you as she continues to taste around your neck.

She eventually makes it back up to your lips where you close your eyes and reconnect, softer this time. She pulls you closer as you enjoy the embrace, tongues and lips moving in harmony. She shifts her weight, rolling the two of you so you lie on top of her.

The kiss breaks again, this time delicately and slowly. You feel the panting of her hot breath across your face as you begin to lean upwards on your hooves against the mattress. Her hooves simply fall from where they were holding you. She smiles again with a look of sly confidence. Looking at a pencil and notepad next to the nightstand, she puts a hoof behind her head casually as she grabs them with her magic. She writes two words before turning the note to you. You feel your face turn even redder as you look at the page.

She slides her other hoof behind her head, looking at you with a grin and lowered eyelids as she awaits your next move.

The notebook floats away as you look down into her soft magenta eyes. You nervously gulp and, without knowing what else to do, lean down and kiss her lips which she readily complies. Pulling away, you bring your lips to her cheek. And then her neck. You kiss tenderly, lower and lower and use a hoof to slowly rub along where you had been. You feel her chest rise and fall and you go.

As you kiss down to her stomach, you notice something. Something your hoof had come across rubbing her chest. It felt like... a beat. There was a beat inside Vinyl. You lift your head up, getting a perplexing look from the white unicorn as you try to find it with your hoof.

thm-thump

It is there. In her chest. A beat in the core of this beautiful, wonderful mare. You need to get closer. You nuzzle it with your muzzle as you feel it again, but it’s faster now.

You kiss it.

You kiss it again.

You begin to lick at the spot of the amazing beat.

It is like no other Vinyl had ever produced. You want more of it. To feel it. See it. Taste it. You feel her hooves rest on your head as you kiss, lick, and rub your face into her chest. Her sharp breaths flow through your mane.

Suddenly, she pulls your head up from her chest. You both are breathing hard as she looks at you with a bit of confusion. You simply stare back as you try to catch your breath.

She just smiles again with a raised eyebrow as her hoof glides off of your cheek and down your neck. She begins to trail it around your chest. However, she gradually slows down to a stop. Her eyes start to light up as she her hoof presses against a certain point.

She leans herself upward and begins to nuzzle the spot. A soft, tender kiss against your chest confirms it. Like you, she has found a beat within your body. And she wants more.

Her kissing gives way to gentle licking as your hoof travels up to her chest to feel her beat again. Unfortunately, you cannot satisfy your need for it with just that. You try to lean over, eventually sliding down and causing you and Vinyl to lay on the mattress in opposite directions, your hooves wrapped around each other’s backs. You kiss her chest as she licks and nuzzles yours, the sensation somehow even better knowing she’s feeling the same thing.

This continues until you feel Vinyl slowing down. Her licking going to a few gentle kisses to simple nuzzling, finally to just laying with her head pressing against you. You feel the slow rhythmic rise and fall of her chest, her breath blowing across your fur, and her inner beat is slowing down itself. You look down to see Vinyl staring back at you smiling. She gives you another little peck on the lips.

She opens her mouth. Her tongue rises up and flicks out from behind her top front teeth, before her bottom lip rises to do the same. Her lips form into an O shape before returning to the shape of the smile.

You almost feel like tears could be forming in your eyes. Happiness was dancing around in your chest against her cheek. However, you feel your eyelids start to become heavier. Looking up to a clock on the nightstand, you see just how much time had passed during your time together.

Wondering what to do next, you look back at the wonderful white DJ, her eyes closed as she holds you tightly, obviously not wanting to let go. With a smile, you breath a yawn through your nose as you rub your muzzle against Vinyl’s chest one last time before you close your eyes as well.