Rumble Gets The Mares, But Doesn't Get It
Rumble woke up, his eyes shooting open abruptly as his bedside alarm played the opening bars to Van Halo's hit "Jump!" The last time he was awake, Rumble's clock read 1:23 am, and his back was hunched over a piece of paper, his mouth holding a blue pen and scribbling away, recording numbers onto a scroll. He recalled burning the midnight oil to record his brother's debts onto paper, to remind him to pay them off in the morning. It was not out of some brotherly obligation to help Thunderlane on his debts; rather, it was just that Rumble would be expecting vexing requests from his brother for money once the truth got to his thick skull. Besides, Thunderlane was known to be lazy and sloppy in the organization of his work, and without a habit of making lists, Thunderlane would definitely miss out an important debt or two.
Unlike his unproductive featherbrain of a brother, Rumble believed in the value of hard work, which stemmed from his hatred of his brother's guts. He didn't mind his work life, which consisted of two jobs, and his schedule was usually so full that Sundays were his only free day off. On Sundays, he was the one doing all of the house chores; Their parents weren't home most of the time, since they were professional weather pegasi who worked at skies far away from Cloudsdale. However, at the times they did come home, Thunderlane would cower and find an excuse to be out of the house; his relationship with his parents was strained to say the least, for Celestia knows why. Sour feelings were unlikely to be mutual in this relationship; from Rumble's point of view, his parents were affable ponies, the type who'd wave hi to everypony they met in the neighborhood. Furthermore, they seemed to be the only ponies who recognized and appreciated Rumble's aptitude for hard work.
And here Rumble was, flicking the cloud covers off of himself and trotting up to his desk, a sleepy head the least of his problems. There was little sign of lethargy in his movements, his hooves soberly going through the books on his desk for the paper he toiled on the night before. His desk was made of cloud; just like every house in Cloudsdale, all furniture was composed of cloud, which was genuinely sturdier than it looked. With a 'voila!' Rumble produced the large scroll from a the inside of a cloud cupboard, placed atop a stack of chemistry books which were neatly piled. He tucked it under his leg and headed for Thunderlane's quarters.
Due to his seemingly voracious hunger for knowledge, his parents didn't have to fork out as much cash for tuition or learning programs for him as they had for Thunderlane. For that, his brother would call him an egghead, but his parents would praise him as learned, even once describing him as a prodigy. Of course, Rumble would brush off these comments and downplay himself, but his old folks would describe this behavior as humble, adding to their list of his qualities which, in their opinion, would make him a fine stallion for any mare to wed when he came of age. Rumble laughed at the idea of ever wedding.
Little did many ponies know, Rumble had another characteristic that was attractive to mares, remembering this as he glanced into a large mirror as tall as himself fixed to one wall of the room. It seemed that his obsession for hard work leaked into his physical training, pushing himself into doing hundreds of wing ups and push ups, and galloping hundreds of miles across Cloudsdale daily. This resulted in the colt looking more like a stallion everyday; on his body where there was once smooth and supple skin there would be hard, impenetrable muscle. His legs were glorious muscled pillars, with revealing blue veins and bordering-on-abnormal convexity when flexed. His neck was straight, firm and strong, and his jaws were wide-set and rough, a fortress of bone that could be easily felt by running a hoof under his mouth. And to complete the look, there was his signature slicked back black mane which he meticulously combed daily and black eyes, which held an interminable, hypnotic depth.
Or at least that was how Cloudchaser and Fltter described him on their last stay; the two pegasi sisters were a friend of Thunderlane's, and visited frequently. Though they used to visit solely for the purpose of babysitting Rumble, it was apparent now that he wasn't a colt anymore. (Fact is, if anypony in the house needed babysitting, it would be the unbudging Thunderlane.) As of late, they'd been coming for visits a bit too frequently, even more than they did in the past. Rumble couldn't help but notice the pegasi sisters' prying eyes staring the entirety of his body like a spotlight following an active trapeze artist in the circus. They'd find every excuse to close distance between themselves and Rumble, with Cloudchaser going so far as to stroke Rumble's wingbones sensually, nestling her head into his feathers. Rumble took their advances innocuously, never discouraging them; He didn't seem to mind their grooming and massaging, since his muscles ached from a chaotic day of galloping and flying.
Rumble got to Thunderlane's room and pushed the door open, calling out to him curtly and loudly.
"Thunderlane! Get up!"
"Urgh... It's 7..." the black coated pegasus groaned, swishing his frazzled light blue mane with white highlights. He took a glance at his bedside mini-clock atop a cloud cupboard, and his veined eyes shot wide open. "And it's Sunday! You're insane...."
"Come on, bro. If you'd take the initiative now and then to do..... something, you wouldn't accumulate all of these tasks to do," said Thunderlane's little brother, Rumble, standing at the door of Thunderlane's room. Thunderlane's room was simple, with a soft cloud bed in the center and a cloud wadrobe leaning on the wall to the bed's left, along with priceless, patterned cloud windows at the room's right wall, which were currently shut, draping the room in darkness, save for the light coming in by the open door held open by Rumble.
Rumble unfurled a long scroll outlining Thunderlane's plethora of tasks to do, most of which were debts he seemed wont to pay off. All of the debts, painstakingly recorded by Rumble by request of his brother, seemed to come from PonyVille. That left no wonder on where Thunderlane went to on his long 'business trips': Debts were accumulated at every single stall at the marketplace, at the Carousal Boutique, Sugarcube Corner, even Sweet Apple Acres, just to name a few places. Rumble scoffed; it was usually some mare, a mare with whom Thunderlane would be acquainted to briefly. They'd be away for a whole day, then in the wee hours of morning, Rumble would be up, ears perked up for the sound of a cloud door slamming and a riled up Thunderlane pacing drunkenly through the house, occasionally knocking over things before reaching his room, all the while mumbling nonsensical garble.
Rumble let out an exasperated sigh as he trotted over to his brother's side and managed to prod Thunderlane's shoulder, only to be met with a long grunt and a 180 degree turn from him. Rumble frowned deeply and rolled up the scroll hastily, briskly trotting out of Thunderlane's room. He'd wasted 2 minutes trying to talk his brother into doing errands, errands which, for long weeks on end, remained untouched. Rumble glanced quickly at a nearby wall clock, which read 7:28, then reacted in a cool yet swift manner; he picked up his blue ball point pen, which was nearly always nestled behind his ear, in his mouth and unfurled the scroll, his eyes trailing rapidly up and down the list. There was no time to lose.
~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~
On the edge of the cloud platform atop which his home was nestled, he had an unobstructed view of the town of PonyVille miles below. His home was at a specially low altitude, below the bulk of clouds overhead, promising a panoramic view of the beautiful town. The sun had only just risen, leaking a few rays onto buildings which Rumble had once visited himself on hoof; the Town Hall, the Marketplace, and far away, near the edge of Everfree Forest, the rustic dwellings of a certain animal-loving friend. Rumble didn't have time to remember names, especially of ponies he had interacted with long ago; it had been nearly two years since his last visit to PonyVille, and those two years had kept him busy enough. With his blue pen, he scribbled down the names of some places he'd like to go to after completion of his errands on the scroll: words like 'school', 'Pip's' and 'library'. After that, he'd roll the paper up and place it into a brown saddlebag, which he'd sling deftly over his back.
Spreading his wings, he tested the wind direction and strength as air batted his feathers. The wind was strong, but nothing new to him; once, out of curiosity, during a visit to the Wonderbolts academy, he tested an air tunnel cranked up to, he was told, 'an unnaturally high level'. At the end of it, he felt that he had barely kept his feathers intact after placing them under unprecedented strain in that hellish tunnel, but the other Wonderbolts who had watched were lost for words; apparently, even experienced trainers had problems keeping their position with that amount of air resistance acting on their muscles. Now, the wind that blew was foal's play in comparison, and his wings had grown since the air tunnel incident.
Rumble swooped down from the clouds, the passing air hugging his wings as he did circles in the air, getting accustomed to the currents and warming up his muscles. Then, like a clap of thunder, he burst through a cloud and sped straight for Sweet Apple Acres.
~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~
Applebloom stomped a hoof deep and hard into the soil, then withdrawing back almost instantly, shaking the soil off and nursing her new bruise on her hoof's sole with her tongue. A large frown adorned her face as she swept her eyes around the apple orchard; the apple tree branches were laden with fruit and the trees were waiting to be bucked. Normally, her siblings would be helping her on Apple bucking day, but they had 'things' to do. And that was how they simply put it to her. 'Things'. Then with a swing of the door, they would rush off, not to be seen anywhere near the farm in a matter of seconds. Such a condescending tone could have been used on a foal, but not a teenage mare like Applebloom. She sighed, striding up to the first of hundreds of trees and raising her legs. There was no escape either, keeping in mind how Applejack could find and literally rope her flank back to Sweet Apple Acres for an unbridled, drawn out punishment.
Just then, before her hooves felt bark, she heard a voice call from above.
"Hey, Applebloom! Are your siblings around?" called Rumble, who, in a deft motion, folded his wings and did a full circle in the air before landing on the ground beside Applebloom.
Her eyes widened as they gazed upon an angel. Starting from the bottom*, her pupils made lazy circles, mapping his muscle mounds eagerly. The hooves and legs that would give Big Mac a run for his money. A slender neck that would be perfect when entwined with hers. The 'bad boy' styled, unruly mane of his that seemed to flutter around like long grass in the breeze. And that jaw, a jaw that would accommodate her own when he'd romantically pull her into a passionate smooch. Then, her mind would blank out, a sanctuary that would keep her safe and warm, away from the yapping of her brother and sister, away from apple trees, leaving only this angel and Applebloom--
"Hello? Equestria to AB? This is Rumble. You know? When we were really young foals?" said Rumble, giving her a concerned smile.
That smile. It was a mare-killer and worth a thousand bits. No, a million. Applebloom shook her head and returned to reality, only to be slowly thrust back into that dream world by Rumble's dark eyes. It was so right, yet so wrong at the same time; Ms Cheerilee might have taught about colt-filly relations, and how silly love at true sight was. Superficial relationships were wrong, but now, to Applebloom, wrong was probably right.
"Oh! Uh.... sorry. Ain't r-ringin' no bells," said Applebloom, rubbing her face and turning away from Rumble. It didn't make sense. Rumble was that cute little colt she studied with a long time ago under Miss Cheerilee, not this hunk of a stallion.
"Are you alright? Your face is all red," said Rumble, his expression turning nervous.
"Ah'm fine! What're ya here for?" burst out Applebloom, manning up and staring Rumble in the eye. It was manners, after all, to talk to somepony else and look them in the eye. But manners didn't prepare her for Rumble.
"Oh, yeah. Thunderlane owes Sweet Apple Acres, eh...." he said, reaching into his saddlebag for the scroll of tasks. He quickly pulled the large article out and unfurled it with his teeth and took it in his hooves, blocking most of Applebloom's view of his body, drawing her focus to his pristine face.
"Woah. 565 bits, inclusive of that shed he wrecked the week before, and the 3 boxes of apples that were supposed to be shipped to Manehattan. Oh yes, and the roof of the barn he promised to fix but wrecked instead," said Rumble, rolling his eyes as he described his brother's antics.
Applebloom couldn't tear her eyes away. It was sinful, naughty, but imperative that she study Rumble like a scientist. His grey muzzle, long and matured, just screamed out to be nuzzled. She took a step closer, her eyes never leaving Rumble's, the latter of which left their place from the scroll and shot back up to Applebloom's.
"Applebloom, is it fine if I pay off the debts right now? I can fix the roof and shed, but I'm not sure on how to pay off those shipping apples..." said Rumble, in a loud tone, as if to snap Applebloom out from her trance. Applebloom's ears perked up at keywords.
Fine. Damn right he was.
Right now. There was a plethora of things they could do right then, things that would make her siblings tsk in disappointment but make her granny nod in approval.
Shipping. Romance wasn't exactly her thing, but it was amazing how in that moment, romance suddenly became her everything. In the history of the Apple family, not one pony ever had a pegasus spouse, but there's always a first time for everything.
Apples. Rumble's apples.
"Heh, pickin' apples..." said Applebloom to herself. Rumble seemed to be beside himself with worry, he eyebrows furrowed down.
"I'm sorry. Do you need some rest?" said Rumble, trying to come across as polite as possible. Applebloom gave a little yell and widened her eyes, then hastily picked herself up.
"Alright, but.... take yer time," said Applebloom with a smile. Rumble seemingly found no ill intention behind that smile, instead getting off of his hooves and heading for the site of the ruined shed, which looked like a miserable pile of wood planks. Applebloom took off on her own hooves and headed for the shed. It was quite the distance to gallop to, but in the sky she saw flashes of gray that seemed to be a zipping Rumble, flying to and fro between the barn and the shed. By the time she was at the shed, Rumble was around ten planks away from completion, the shed looking better than it had when it was first built. At Rumble's hooves were several tools and wooden planks which were gathered from the barn.
Apparently, the speedy trips between the barn and the shed made the gray pegasus tired; sweat dripped from his legs, body and face. Applebloom's mouth hung agape, her prey looking juicier than ever. Rumble didn't seem to notice.
"Roof!" cried Rumble after he nailed the last plank of the shed, gathering up the tools and heading for the barn. With Rumble gone, Applebloom ran as fast as her hooves could carry her towards the large red building. It was quite the distance, however, and she groaned and sat on her haunches midway.
"Ain't... huff.... worth it..." Applebloom said as she panted. "Ah don't even know what's his personality like."
Just then, she felt thunder clap through the ground, and in front of her was the pegasus, wings flared , presenting a glorious sight to Applebloom.
"Totally worth it," gasped Applebloom, and got back onto her feet.
"What?" said Rumble.
"Nothin'."
"Great. Well, I can't ignore the pressing problem of apples. How should I pay for that?" said Rumble, his hoof on his chin and his eyes squinted in concentration.
"Ya could... er... " started Applebloom uncertainly, though she had the entire ideal scenario played out in her head.
"Yes?" said Rumble, his eyes brightening up and a smile stretching over his face in eagerness. Applebloom let out a little squeal of glee** at Rumble's joy, then blurted something out.
"Buck with me!" she said. Her cheeks immediately flushed red at Rumble's shocked expression and her breathing intensified slightly before she hastily recovered.
"I meant, buckin' a... apples," she said slowly, then flashing an unassuming smile. Rumble seemed to be playing along with her act as he nodded swiftly.
"And.... ya can admire mah plot, er, mah plot of land, that is," she said, blushing many shades of red at the innuendo. She hoped that Rumble would be getting her drift, but his expression was deadpan as he proceeded to grab some baskets for apples.
In the half hour that followed, Applebloom didn't even raise a hindleg, satisfied as she was looking at Rumble work his legs at the apple trees that, by right, were her responsibility. After repairing the roof and rebuilding the shed, Rumble's strength showed no sign of waning, working his finely toned legs out; in no time, 20 baskets were filled, with the pegasus still chipping the bark of the trees with his firm kicks. Pegasi weren't naturals at apple bucking, or that was what Applejack told her younger sister; arguably the fastest flyer in Equestria, Rainbow Dash, could only manage about a dozen or so trees before giving up. Which is why she chose to gather up the apples in a whirlwind instead of slaving her legs away. Why didn't Rumble do that?
"Hello? Applebloom? Are you going to just sit there?" said Rumble loudly, as the wood of the tree he bucked resounded, followed by a downpour of apples. Applebloom nodded.
"Er, Ah was up extra early this mornin' and was buckin' apples fer like, 3 hours or somethin', ah'm really, really tired," lied Applebloom. Her eyes were drawn to the waterfalls of sweat pouring down from Rumble's body. Apparently, he was a heavy sweater though his strength maintained Herculean through his stay at the farm. She followed the trail of sweat, leading down from the back of his head, down his neck, along the back of his body, down to his flanks. She let out a gasp.
"Dat Flank!" she cried, but softly. Those two globes were toned and round, almost like a mare's. They looked firm, but there was really only one way of finding out how hard they were.
"What was that?"
"Er, nothin'. Perhaps we could strike up some conversation!" suggested Applebloom.
"Alright, fine. But I'm not much of a talker," said Rumble, wiping the sweat off of his brow.
He divulged everything about himself to Applebloom, showing that he was clearly a colt that had nothing to hide. His family, his lazy brother, Cloudchaser and Flitter, flight school, his dreams to become a Wonderbolt, even telling her how many exercises he did daily and what their nature was (her request). Rumble proved to be quite the hypocrite when he said he wasn't much of a talker, rattling off about anything and everything about himself, never really letting Applebloom have a side in this 'conversation' which was turning into a monologue. Rumble was one of those thinkers, who'd have a mind mostly inundated with thoughts, waiting for an outlet to pour them out to; when Rumble did let his thoughts loose, the result would usually be a long, mostly one-sided talk. Not that Applebloom was paying attention; it was merely background noise that came with the main attraction. Rumble's concentration was focused, rather, on his work and talking.
"... And then, I think to myself, what were the Wonderbolts even thinking? I mean, to accept Rainbow Dash's resignation that easily? That's bull, no offense to any minotaurs around," said Rumble with a chuckle at his cold joke, recalling the story his brother told him about Rainbow Dash's one and only shot at joining the Wonderbolts. Applebloom, however, laughed like a madmare at it, leading to a long and awkward silence. After a minute of that, Applebloom asked Rumble one thing.
"What do ya look for in a mare?"
"... What?"
"Ya don't have ta answer, Rumble, just..."
"No, it's fine, AB," said Rumble, with a weak smile. The bucking was evidently getting to his muscles. "Um, I guess, they'd have to be really smart? I mean, I'd love a girl who's got a brain, who always speaks her mind."
"Earth pony, unicorn, pegasus?" said Applebloom quickly, hanging onto every word he was going to say.
"Oh, AB. My granny used to tell me the only thing that truly matters is a pony's character. And I agree!" Rumble answered cheerfully, as the next batch of apples fell from the trees. His legs seemed to be giving out, so he slumped down against the tree, truly fatigued. He stared at the baskets in front of him. He had filled 43 of them.
"Wow. I think I've more than paid for the apples, Applebloom. It's time for me to go, my list is a lot longer and afternoon is fast approaching. See you arou-"
"NO!" cried a seething Applebloom. This chance was once in a blue moon, after all.
"What is it?" said a concerned Rumble.
"Ah..... want yer body," said Applebloom, her mane disheveled and her eyes slightly bloodshot. Had Rumble seen her lick her chops then and there, he would have skedaddled right out. But the blissfully ignorant Rumble gave a smile and chuckled.
"Ah, you remind me of Cloudchaser. Heh, of course you can massage me," said Rumble innocently, lying on his belly on the grass and letting out a sigh of relaxation, expecting a pair of firm hooves on his weathered down wing muscles and leg muscles.
Applebloom stared down at Rumble's body, which was gleaming with sweat, sweat that needed to be removed. Her body tingled and her tongue hung out of her mouth as she lowered herself onto him for a cleaning he'd not easily forget.
Rumble stretched, ready for a good, sensual massage. In a few moments, however, instead of what Rumble was expecting, he felt something else entirely servicing him. Something light on his neck. Light and wet.
"Argh! Applebloom!" he cried, as the mare rained kisses down on his neck, her hooves planted on the ground around him. He edged away from her. "Don't you understand the meaning of 'massage'?"
"Nope!" she cried curtly as she dived down and licked the sweat off of his back. Applebloom was driven by Celestia knows what to feel Rumble, and she didn't seem content with just using her hooves as probes. After a feel of Applebloom's shivering taster on his back, Rumble couldn't take this physical treatment anymore.
"Cold!" cried Rumble as he went on all fours and had a good look at Applebloom. It was a madmare he was looking at.
"Alright, AB, I don't know what you're trying to pull but I do not like how this is going. I am not that type of colt. You have been kind enough to let me help around the farm but unfortunately I have to draw the line for my payments right this instant. For both of our sakes, I am willing to put all of this behind me, and I will deny ever having interacted with you in such a... lewd manner. Thank you, and good bye ma'am!" he said indignantly, turning around to take off into the skies.
"Wait!" cried Applebloom, to the annoyance of Rumble. Grudgingly, he turned back to face Applebloom.
"Ah want.... Ah want a kiss," she said, running a hoof through her mane and rubbing her eyes in a futile attempt to make herself look presentable. She pouted and planted her front hooves side by side and rested on her haunches, while magnifying her eyes to unnatural sizes, in a display of innocence and adorableness, but looked more on the desperate side.
"I guess... a kiss wouldn't hurt. You have been a great host after all," said Rumble, trying his best not to let sarcasm seep into his words. He gazed into Applebloom's eyes, then puckered his lips a little. He leaned in, and Applebloom followed, her heart pounding in excitement as she was about to share her first french kiss with a colt. Her forelegs were raised, in anticipation of grabbing Rumble's back, predicting a passionate kiss, where they will close their eyes and lose themselves in the moment, with Applebloom feeling his firm jaw. They'd be in each other's legs, and they'd include tongue in their deep mashing of lips, tumbling across the muddy soil, getting down and dirty.
In reality, Rumble picked up her hoof and kissed it.
Then, he flew away immediately without a word, shaking his head as Applebloom stared blankly into space. Then, about 2 minutes after Rumble left, she hit her head with her hoof repeatedly and gave a loud groan to Celestia above.
"What's wrong with me!" Applebloom cried, then picking up an apple and giving it a clean lick and rubbing it down with her hoof, causing it to shine in the rising Sun. She stared at the gleaming apple, then glanced at the gray speck in the sky that was growing ever smaller.
"Rumble's... No no no no no! No more! Get yer flank back on track, Applebloom!" the mare said with finality to herself, as she slung two apple-laden baskets over her back and headed for the barn.
Author's Note
*This has nothing to do with rapper Drake.
**Squeal of glee = Squee, if you will.
NOT sure whether I should continue it. Advice?
Rumble Gets The Mares, But Doesn't Get It
Rumble, in his haste to leave the crazed mare, had neglected to check off some items on his list. In mid-air, Rumble reached for his saddlebag and pulled out the scroll, whilst scanning the skies with his eyes, looking for a cloud to settle on. With the scroll firmly clasped between his jaws, fluttering in the wind currents, he rushed to a cloud he spotted in the distance, his wings forcing him through half a mile of air in 10 seconds.
With a deft motion, Rumble spread his wings to increase drag and slow down, allowing him to touch silently down onto the cloud without rustling so much as a tuft upon landing. Rolling open the scroll, he found a name right below Sweet Apple Acres: Rarity.
The pegasus sighed. Rarity was one of those ponies that was so desperate for love that she would stoop so low so as to pursue a romantic relationship with his sloth of a brother. Sure, Thunderlane had his looks, but his lack of commitment or sensitivity to anything should be a turn off for other mares who delved deeper into his personality. But no matter how desperate Rarity was, she couldn't possibly still be infatuated with his brother; after all, the bill he recently accreted from the debts at Carousal Boutique numbered in four figures.
Rumble sighed yet again as he flexed his feathery appendages in anticipation for another take off. He'd never understand how such mature 'adults' functioned.
~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~
Sweetie Belle tossed and turned around in bed as the rays of Celestia's sun cast a bright glow through the translucent windows of her room in Carousal Boutique. This morning wasn't turning out to be the best of mornings, with the cacophony of birdsong and radiance of sunlight participating in a tug-of-war with her drowsiness and reluctance to fight the increased gravity of the velvety soft bed. Besides, the night before, she had stayed up late to visit her sister in Manehattan; some other fashion competition forced her out of PonyVille. Normally, Sweetie Belle wouldn't mind these long trips that Rarity made away from PonyVille, but she felt that the two or three months that were suddenly becoming the norm was pushing it. And with the Sisterhooves Social fiasco that transpired when Sweetie Belle was a young foal coming to mind, the teenage filly sincerely hoped that Rarity hadn't forgotten the importance of their close relationship.
The latest visit, however, was nothing short of disappointing. She set out for the city at a few hours before midnight due to a Pinkie Party (which Applebloom excused herself out of due to early morning farm work) but she knew how Rarity had developed a habit of burning the midnight oil. Though sober, the fashionista didn't seem to have many words for Sweetie Belle; During the measly 30 minutes that it lasted, Rarity did little in the visit, welcoming Sweetie Belle with a hug, letting Coco Pommel (her long time assistant) give Sweetie Belle a hug of her own, then 'allowing' Sweetie Belle to help out. She was planning on talking about a plethora of topics, ranging from a record company's boss interest in her ever since he heard her sing at a smoky bar just at the outskirts of PonyVille (a dare from her CMC friends) to new evidence that Pinkie Pie was related to the Apples but there simply was no free time to chat. The ephemeral visit signed off with a goodbye hug from Rarity and Coco, and though there were smiles all around Sweetie Belle felt uneasy, as if she was just reprimanded by Rarity in her younger foal days.
Suddenly, her phone rang, breaking the still morning air and eliciting the frightened caws of resting birds on the trees outside, prompting them to take off from their wooden perches. Sweetie Belle's own eyes shot wide open at what could be said as the straw that broke the camel's back; giving in to the morning's attempts to get her out of bed, she slumped off, taking a mess of blankets with her as she fell with a thud to the floor. Giving a yawn, she staggered to her hooves as the jet black antique telephone rattled about on the spot, the receiver nearly falling off of its holder. She picked it up and cringed at the voice that came through.
"SWEETIE BELLE ya can't believe who ah just saw today!" yelled an excited Applebloom.
"Ah! AB, just calm down. Can't have you rendering me deaf, I have a musical career ahead of me. If I'm lucky, that is."
"Alrigh', uh... It was Rumble!" said Applebloom quickly, nearly to the point of incoherence. The name, however, didn't ring any bells for Sweetie.
"Who now?"
"A.... a stallion," said Applebloom slowly and dreamily, but caught herself just in time. "He's really, really ripped and ah'm warning ya, ya can't fall fer his masculine char--"
"Seriously? You're making a big deal of this? Never really thought of you as one who'd dig boys. But hey, we've gone through so much as friends, so nothing really surprises me anymore," said Sweetie Belle with a smile. Applebloom didn't read much, presumably, and topics like controlling hormonal surges were pretty foreign to such a humble earth pony.
"Ah'm serious!"
"Ho, this is too funny, AB. I gotta tell Scootaloo about this later," said Sweetie Belle. Though toying with someone's feelings was morally wrong, it was something as petty as boys that she was poking fun at, and Sweetie Belle was sure this whole episode would blow over by the day after. Just then, the doorbell rang.
"Oh, what was that? Sweetie Belle, was that the door? Oh no, he's a-comin'!" said Applebloom, her voice seemingly fraught with fear. With a chuckle, Sweetie Belle ended the call with a 'bye' and slammed the phone down, making her way downstairs to the door. It was quite unusual for anypony to be up at this early hour on a Sunday morning, and even more so considering that the Boutiques owner was miles away from PonyVille; Sweetie Belle wondered whether the 'Closed' sign she was told to put up was conspicuous enough.
"Who's that? We're closed for the moment," said Sweetie Belle as she squinted and placed her eye over the door's peephole, straining to see and identify the visitor.
"Oh, uh... I don't think you remember me, but I'm here to pay off some debts for your sister Rarity. Name's Rumble, and I was hoping that you'd be in," came a deep voice from the other end of the door. Sweetie Belle gave a gasp, then smiled to herself. Speak of Discord and he shall appear.
"Come on in, Rumble," said Sweetie Belle in a friendly tone, turning the doorknob with a touch of green unicorn magic. With a creak, the door swung open and in stepped somepony that looked years older than her, and in appearance, leagues of masculinity ahead of the average stallion. Wrapped around his tankard of a body was a pair of wings, wings that hugged him like a muscular yet feathery and soft blanket. On the stallion's face was a weak smile, a sharp contrast to the thundering hoofsteps of his firm hooves that followed when he stepped into the Boutique.
"Uh... hey! What's up, Rumble," said Sweetie Belle awkwardly, hey eyes widening as her pupils traced a line from Rumble's tail, across his strong back and up his slender neck. Applebloom wasn't joking.
"Nothing much. I just need to attend to some debts that my brother incurred a while back. Let me see..." said Rumble, while Sweetie Belle tried clearing her head of foalish thoughts. She couldn't fall that easily into that trap, just as Applebloom did; her maturity was surely above a simple farmpony's! The two ponies sat themselves down black-and-white checkered stools around a flowery patterned table in the ground floor, with Sweetie Belle struggling to maintain her composure as the stallion in front of her bared his veined pillar of a neck to her.
"You alright? You seem like you haven't slept in weeks," said Rumble concernedly as he stole a glance at Sweetie Belle, eliciting a squeak of surprise from her. Was she really coming off as fatigued?
"I... Maybe. Heh, I was up till midnight the night before, visiting Rarity."
"Oh, how was it?"
"Great!" she immediately replied. And lied. She facehoofed herself in her mind as she realized how forced her response was.
"Hmmm. Times like these, I really envy the bond you and your sister have. Going for Sisterhooves Socials and all that. Wish Thunderlane was committed to be well.. like Rarity, in that sense," said Rumble, his ears drooping in disappointment, giving a look that seemed unbearably endearing to Sweetie Belle, a look that begged for her to drape a comforting foreleg around Rumble.
"Ah yes. Somehow, Thunderlane really didn't buy anything from Rarity. Oh boy, this could be an over-dramatization of events... but you should know her, shouldn't you?" said Rumble, giving Sweetie Belle a wide, toothy grin. She blinked several times then nodded furiously, at a loss for words as her mind was flooded with thoughts that Rarity would comment were 'most unbecoming'.
"In summary, the footing of the bill at the Le Moulin was, in her words, 'an abysmal affair' as Thunderlane forced her to pay for that evening's meal, and she wished for Thunderlane to be ' hotly tarred and feathered and paraded down the streets of Canterlot to the bemusement of Canterlot's most venerated socialites'. Ouch," chuckled Rumble. He'd ramble on for the next 10 minutes, but Sweetie Belle didn't mind, as it gave her ample time and space to 'study' him. She noted the rapid ascent and descent of his Adam's apple as he spoke, the orderly decrescendos and crescendos in his tone he seemed to have when talking without resting for a breath of air, the staccatos he made at the finish of sentences, and how he'd roll his 'r's.
"Thing is," said Rumble finally as he rolled up the scroll and stored it in his saddlebag, "I have no idea on how to pay them off. Do you?"
"Ah!" said Sweetie Belle as Rumble tapped her on the shoulder, as she was seemingly concentrating on something else. She shook her head, and silence ensued, the silence that accompanied a brainstorm; but the two ponies were on different topics altogether. Rumble had a hoof thoughtfully placed on his chin while the other was tapping the tabletop while Sweetie Belle was still, eyes glued to her hooves.
After a few seconds, a tune escaped Sweetie Belle's lips in a hum, prompting Rumble to perk up his ears. The sharp pegasus was quick to catch it.
"Give me.. give me.... your body... HEY! You listen to 80's music too?" said Rumble, catching the first few lyrics but making nothing of them. Sweetie Belle's countenance lifted in glee.
"Yeah! Uh, I'm kinda a weirdo around my family 'cus I'm the only one who really likes them," she said, happy that there was somepony else in Ponyville who was as old as her sharing her exquisite musical taste.
"I can relate. I rummaged through my parents' old cassettes and I just liked what I heard. Bro calls me lame for it, but whatever. Same situation here, hoof up!" said Rumble, his hoof lifted in the air in front of Sweetie Belle. She clopped it enthusiastically with her own and began humming again.
"So, you're a Squeen* fan huh? The song you're humming... Body Language**?" inquired Rumble, to which Sweetie nodded her head.
"Body Language!" they both said in unison as the chorus came up.
"You got red lips," said Rumble, nodding to Sweetie Belle to continue.
"Snakes, in your eyes."
"Long legs."
"Great thighs," said Sweetie Belle, then she took in a deep breath for the next line.
"YOU GOT THE CUTEST PLOT I'VE EVER SEEN KNOCK ME DOWN FOR A SIX ANY TIME!" Sweetie Belle yelled, her eyes wide in excitement and her front hooves on the table, causing her to lean towards Rumble. Rumble couldn't help but laugh hysterically at the sight, his back rolling on the carpeted floor. For Sweetie Belle, it seemed that the remaining vestiges of sanity she initially had were fast eroding, her hormones taking the wheel now as she stared hungrily at Rumble, perfect, muscular, lover-of-80's-music Rumble.
"Whew, that was fun. Though I don't think that it's payment enough, is it?" said Rumble softly, coughing a little as he was still recovering from his little fit of laughter. Sweetie Belle's eyes lit up and a disturbing smile graced her face, though this passed Rumble's mind.
"I know something we can do...." said Sweetie Belle slowly.
"You name it!"
"Imagine I'm Rarity and.... you're Thunderlane," said Sweetie Belle warily, looking at him for a negative response. Which she received.
"What!? I do not, I repeat, do not want to be compared to that sloth!" said Rumble indignantly, clearly offended by Sweetie Belle's suggestion. She rolled her eyes impatiently.
"Not comparing, imagining. Alright, imagine you've just forced me to pay the bill, and I'm pouting and disappointed and not talking to you as we're walking back home," said Sweetie Belle, while Rumble had his eyebrow raised the whole time.
"I'm not sure how this is payment," said Rumble, his hooves crossed across his chest.
"Shush! I'm the owner of the Boutique now so I get to choose. I don't think Thunderlane actually owes my sis any money, does he?"
"Nope. Wait.... then I don't need to even be here to play your game! I just wanted to come here and apologize to Rarity, maybe see how she'd like for me to make it up to her on behalf of Thunderla--"
"YOU STAY HERE!" said Sweetie Belle as her horn glowed threateningly with magic. Rumble couldn't help but cower; no matter how strong he physically was, he'd always bow out of a fight when a unicorn was involved.
"Or what?" managed Rumble. Sweetie Belle smiled.
"Or, I'll tell Rarity that Thunderlane's little brother did horrible things to her little sister. Then, she'll be here in minutes from Manehattan, out for ruggedly-handsome-pegasus blood," seethed Sweetie Belle, her mane disheveled and her gaze sinister, though she honestly wasn't so sure of Rarity's devotion to protecting her little sister. However, this change of emotion in Sweetie Belle was a familiar sight to Rumble.
"That's what you want? You're coming onto me? Heh," said Rumble, earning himself a grunt of anger from Sweetie Belle.
"What's so funny?"
"You mares are so desperate... can't you girls just look beyond it and see that I really have no time for this... this nonsense?" said Rumble, making sure to put extra venom on the last word. Sweetie Belle's eyes shone, as if she was starting to tear up. Rumble ignored this and continued.
"I'm looking for a mare I'd have known for years, maybe even a few months, not somepony I just met. I mean, I can't cuddle with somepony I just met, that's like the storyline of a kid's romance novel! Sure, you may have the same musical interests as me, but that's only one part. We're not special someponies yet, and I hope we'll never be, with that mentality of yours; call me a fervent protector of my own virginity, but I'm saving myself up for somepony I'd spend my life living with fully and enjoyably," said Rumble. That opened the floodgates.
"I'm sorry... R-Rumble...." choked Sweetie Belle as she started wailing, the tears unashamedly flowing out. Rumble blinked, then was awash with sympathy as he scooted over to her side reflexively, holding out a wing to embrace her and pulling out a tissue from his saddlebag to wipe the tears away. The wing enclosed her cosily, and Sweetie Belle instinctively sunk into the feathers, liking the warm feeling of feathers and the blood that ran through the wing's veins.
"I'm such a shallow mare... It's just that... you're too hot," whispered Sweetie Belle, blowing her reddened nose on a piece of tissue.
"I beg your pardon?" said Rumble, his eyes wide and concerned as he looked down on the mare.
"I said... you're really hot," said Sweetie Belle, a little louder.
"Aw.... Don't say that," said Rumble with a smile, as if he was consoling a mental patient, or a buddy who had too many shots for the night. Maybe it was the hormones talking. He'd read somewhere that mares had stronger hormones than stallions, and were thus less reserved when it came to making decisions or carrying out actions. Anyway, anypony who said that he was 'hot' was obviously crazy.
"Could you... take me up to my bed room? I'll point out the way."
"Sure. But no funny stuff," said Rumble as he picked her up gingerly, and slung her onto his own back. She gave a sharp gasp, and Rumble grew alarmed.
"You alright?"
"I don't wanna lie on my stomach, I got a bad case of stomach pain when I woke up today.... Could you carry me up some other way?" said Sweetie Belle. Rumble thought that he faintly smelled something fishy in her request, but complied with it anyway; when a mare was sick, he was told by his father, it would be better that the stallion follow her orders without question. Using his wings as props, he lifted Sweetie Belle with his fore legs and carried her up, bridal-style, up the stairs and to her room. She looked up into his purple irises and gave a weak smile.
"You have really beautiful eyes, Rumble." said Sweetie Belle, which Rumble deliberately ignored. When they got to her room, Sweetie Belle's horn glowed and the door swung shut, and she pounced off of his forelegs to face him, her tears completely gone and, in the place of her reddened, sorrowful face from earlier, there was a look of determination that bordered on madness. Rumble was confused beyond words.
"Now, time for my plan," said Sweetie Belle mischievously as the lock of the door sounded, trapping Rumble in.
"What? You mean all of that, the crying, the stomach pain was all a ruse?"
"Duh. Now get on the bed," she commanded, stroking the poofy, marshmallow white blanket, her eyes half-lidded in a look of seduction. However, Rumble looked around for an escape route, and seeing none, he bolted for the door, banging on its mahogany surface with his hooves with all of his might.
"I could get you arrested for charges of molestation, rape, a whole plethora of things! I ca-- umph!" said Rumble as Sweetie Belle's horn glowed and he was enveloped in an diaphanous, emerald colored liquid-gas-like substance that was magic. He floated in the air, for once under the control of some foreign force, which was not his wings, and felt real fear then. He closed his eyes, expecting the worst to come; a drop to his death? Perhaps the harsh surface of the door bruising his cheek? Or a knife that would slowly cut through his vitals? Thoughts like these rushed through his head as he was vulnerable, in the clutches of unicorn magic.
Instead, he felt something soft. Not on his legs, head or body. On his lips. Something wet, warm and alive. Another pair of lips like his own. It was a fleeting moment of wetness on his own lips, accompanied by the rapid breaths of the mare underneath him.
"Just a sample," said Sweetie Belle, giggling to herself after forcing Rumble to give her a smooch. Rumble was placed down on the carpeted floor gently, and his wings were slack, his expression deadpan, after receiving his first kiss from a mare.
"Aw. Well that's too bad then," said Sweetie Belle, as her horn lit up and magic enveloped the doorknob again. "Looks like girls aren't your thing. Maybe you're gay, he-- umph!"
Rumble embraced Sweetie Belle in a kiss about as passionate as he could muster, though it was full of saliva and his nervousness was palpable. Sweetie Belle drew back in shock.
"Heh, what happened to 'not cuddling with somepony you just met'?" said Sweetie Belle, clearly amused by his change in demeanor.
"I can't look like a wimp in front of a mare. I mean, you dragged me into this against my will, and it's only fair that the victim gives his captor a reason not to victimize him," said Rumble as he caught his breath, "And 'sides, I.... I kinda lik-- NO! I mean, I need to explore further into this feeling."
What was he doing? It was ironic and against the words that he said earlier. But it was yet another facet of the precious, multi-faceted diamond that was life, an aspect that he scoffed upon because his fool of a brother indulged so much in it, leading him to behave like a white knight when it came to such a matter. An aspect that he knew he would experience anyway, but was so inexplicably afraid of that he'd coldly push away all of the mares that he knew desired him; he wasn't stupid and knew that in their minds, he was a handsome specimen. That kiss awakened something deep inside him, a feeling of fear that if he kept pushing mares away like this, it would become habitual; he'd rejected so many in the past that this was a possibility. A habit that couldn't be stopped, and he'd be alone and old in the future. Alone and old, with the sweetness of another mare's lips miles away from his reach, and he'd rue his days of being a 'saintly' pony. He was only this handsome once, so why not indulge in the intimacy that presented itself before him?
"I like how you think," said Sweetie Belle as she laid back onto her bed, using her right front hoof to wave Rumble over, just motioning for him to come and get it. Spreading his wings, he rushed forward and placed his hooves on either side of Sweetie Belle, then tipped his head in for the main attraction, in the process making the bed squeak loudly under his weight. In a more comfortable position, he could afford to control his lips a bit more fluidly, but initially was still quite the nervous wreck. That's when Sweetie Belle and her horn came in to help; where it was once a hindrance, it was now a helper, glowing over his lips to give him an in-depth guide on how to pleasurably kiss a mare. Sweetie Belle was (somehow) a pro at this, guiding his mouth up if it was too low for her liking, or forcing it forward if it was faraway. But once the his muscles were exercised to follow this cycle, he got the idea and gave an angry glance up to her horn, which she understood immediately. The magic off, Sweetie Belle could relax and kick back in bed as Rumble's lips enclosed her own, enveloping them in wild warmness as they wrapped themselves and explored the entire length of her lips, which were reciprocating in kind. The mutuality of the situation was strong, with each pony gasping in between kisses and returning them with the right level of control and passion in the strokes that their lips would make over the other's. The intimacy was kicked up when Sweetie Belle moaned into his mouth, prompting him to pump up the passion. Sweetie Belle relished the firmness of his jaw as it kept her own in place; she could also feel the force of it, jamming up against her mouth, sending electrical volts of ecstasy up her spine. Rumble, on the other hand, enjoyed the pillowy softness of the mare's mouth, and could swear he was tasting something sweet as he constantly felt his lips around hers. She wrapped her legs around his hard back, exerting great pressure upon it though it seemed hard as a rock and wouldn't budge. Sweetie Belle felt his mouth open and warm breath flood her face as he pushed his strong tongue into her open mouth, taking her aback. She released, and asked him a question, gasping though wettened lips.
"What? I thought you didn--"
"Just flow with it, I, uh, read," he said nervously, while blushing endearingly. Sweetie Belle smiled and placed her front hoof behind his head, tipping him forward into her inviting, saliva***-dripping entrance. His flexible tongue immediately coiled around Sweetie's, taking in the taste of a mare's saliva full blast. His lips still pressing against hers, he controlled his muscular taste rod around her own, each touch giving both ponies a jolt of pleasure up their spines. He released all of the tension in his body as Sweetie Belle's own tongue explored further down his taste bud ridden**** shaft, allowing his tensed up hooves, all this time propped up on either side of Sweetie Belle, to slacken, causing him to fall on the mare beneath, their bodies in close, intimate proximity, their fur coats touching and their heart beats audible to each other. A cycle of pushing away and pulling back was present, with deep, heated exhalations every time they broke apart and collided yet again. As their tongues engaged in a tussle (Sweetie Belle did more physical work with her smaller tongue) Rumble ground against Sweetie Belle's hips with his own, causing the bed to creak rhythmically. Suddenly, Sweetie Belle removed herself and took in a deep breath, much to the disappointment of a hot and unsatisfied Rumble, whose ears drooped to the sides of his head.
"We've got time, let's go all the way!" she said hastily, fire in her eyes. Just then, Rumble's ears perked up at the keyword: time. He immediately evacuated the bed and picked up his saddlebag in a hurry, to the confused gaze of Sweetie Belle.
"Argh! I've wasted my time here, doing naughty things!" he said, licking his lips to remove the taste of Sweetie. When he saw Sweetie Belle's look of concern, he picked himself up with a response in kind.
"Not that I minded... you've definitely shown me a whole new world, ma'am. I must be off!" said Rumble with a smile. He fidgeted around with the locks of the windows with his teeth before finally hearing a loud click, then he pushed the window open with his front hooves. Before going, he gazed back at Sweetie Belle, who was still breathing heavily, a look of contentment and a smile on her face as she dreamily looked at Rumble.
"Go on, big boy. We'll still do this again, right?" Sweetie Belle called to him in desperation as the chill of the morning air entered the room. Rumble gave a nod, then trotted briskly over to her, planting a kiss on her horn before jumping out of the window, all done in a fluid, seemingly rehearsed motion. Sweetie Belle rushed to her window and looked up to the diminishing grey speck in the sky. Then her eyes opened in a mixture of fear and realization.
"WHAT'S YOUR NUMBER?!" she called out to Rumble, but by then, he was indiscernible amongst the grey of the storm clouds that were brewing up, the work of the morning weather pegasi. Giving a sigh of disappointment, she trotted slowly back to her bed, lying down amongst the comfortable sheets that were once supporting the weight of two hot ponies making out. She was hot and flustered, her core still itching for some. For a moment, she merely laid there, holding the sheets up to her face, smelling them deeply for the musk of a stallion, and clutching and grinding against a soft velvety bolster. Just then, her eyes brightened up as she thought of the phone downstairs. Boy, did she have a story to tell a jealous Applebloom.
~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~
Meanwhile, Rumble's sane conscious probably wanted that satisfied smirk he was wearing to be off. But he couldn't; back in the Boutique, he couldn't help but feel that he had broken free. Maybe the impression of mares he got from the broads that his brother brought home was false; perhaps they were beautiful things to be cherished in the short life that ponies lived. And cherish them he would.
Or not. The allure of mares was probably what got his lazy brother in many difficult ruts in the first place. And he'd had his fair share of reading literature that vilified females; perhaps Sweetie Belle was the bait to the fisherman, a bleak future of doom. His flair for hard work would be shed, and he'd grow up to be an aged, crabby old stallion that complained too often and depended on the pension of others to survive. Maybe he'd grow up to be like Thunderlane!
He stuck his tongue out in disgust and shook his head. He'd have to reserve his concentration to philosophize about such topics later; there was a mission out there that needed attending to. He found a stable, greyish cloud and landed, but not before scanning the skies in worry. The weather pegasi could bring the thunder anytime, and when it happened, it wasn't the time to fly about haphazardly. Hastily, he pulled out the scroll for the next name.
In bold capitalized letters, right above a long list of debts (but not as serious as the seemingly interminable list of Rarity's), there was a name: RAINBOW DASH
Rumble sighed. The other pony in Cloudsdale that was as lazy as his brother but twice the hothead. Oh, and just as infamous in both PonyVille and Cloudsdale for having brittle relationships with ponies. Reasoning with this mare wasn't a prospect he was looking forward to, but he had a job to do.It was convenient though, since she was on duty at the moment (if he remembered the weather team time allocation schedule he borrowed and memorized from Thunderlane), and must have been somewhere near. Spreading his wings, he took off into the skies, ears perked and eyes alert.
Author's Note
*Parody of English rock band Queen (the band which Freddie Mercury fronted)
**Real Queen song about Freddie's thoughts when he sees a really sexy broad, don't ask
***I thought that if I didn't add this word, it would sound rather wrong
****again, if I didn't add taste bud ridden
Next chapter should be clop. Will be marking this as complete and will be continuing this in another story. Follow me if you'd like to be notified of the sequel when it does come out! A favorite, upvote, or a comment is appreciated. Do tell me if this asterisk system in the notes is troublesome. Pardon if this story manifests grammatical mistakes, since I usually don't edit my stories till a day later.
Well, on another note, don't be too worried about late updates nowadays, since my hands are much less occupied. Have a happy CNY! (And Year of the Pon-- I mean Horse)
