Colored Canvas

by Bear

Rating: mature
Tags: Original Character, My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic, Rarity, Romance, Sex, Slice of Life, DJ P0N-3
Length: 1411

Three years have passed since Ink's separation from a certain dj. Follow his misadventures in this less-than-awaited sequel.

Three years ago, Ink took Vinyl out, And Vinyl left Ink.

There's a continuation here somewhere, but it won't reveal itself until later.

Obvious sequel to my story dried paints,
It's no good, but you might want to read it to get familiar.

Characters and tags added as needed.

Published 2014-01-07 04:10:07 UTC
Last updated 2014-01-07 21:56:49 UTC

Engel

His hooves sloshed quietly through the Canterlot streets; heavy rain pelted against the thick black cloak draped around his shoulders. The heavy downpour had long since drenched Ink's long black mane, causing it to cling to his face and neck. He sighed quietly to himself as he trotted along in the dirty streets, his breath hanging in the stagnant air. Spring had slowly started to creep upon an unsuspecting Canterlot; blizzards quickly replaced by torrential rains as the pegasi took to the change in medium.

A bell at the door chimed noisily as Ink pushed into the dingy tavern. The heavy scent of sweat, smoke, and ale hung heavy here, a fact that the unicorn had come to find comforting over time. Grey enveloped his cloak as he hung it on the rack beside the bar. Slowly, but surely, he found his regular place; a cigarette quickly finding it's way to his lips. "You know the order, Cal", he quietly said aloud, finding himself face to face with young barmare.

"Ah ah ah, Mistah Ink! Y'know that ya can't just be smokin' in 'ere like that!". A carmel hoof found it's way to the offending article, snatching the smoke away and quickly bringing it to the face of the rather attractive mare before him. Ink shook himself a few times in an effort to dry his soaked fur, but was met with limited success.

"Oh, how could I have been so silly, Cal? I completely forgot that you can't ever buy your own, and so you constantly take to stealing mine. Oh, pardon me for forgetting such a thing". Ink's sarcasm

bit about hard as the weak spirit against the carmel mare; over time finding herself getting used to the cold demeanor that came with the company of the white unicorn. Grey aura enveloped the glass as Ink quickly drew from his drink, exhaling softly at the weak bite of the liquor.

The pretty mare chuckled loudly, dragging from the cigarette and turning her back to him. Ink couldn't help but stare as Cal sauntered over to the other end of the bar; flanks swaying to and fro. Flanks that Ink was truly fond of. Truth be told, there was a lot of base in the rumor that Ink came to this dingy little bar simply to see Cal; Almost two years to the day and he had yet to do more than oggle. Ink found himself caught in a slight blush as he saw Cal swing her plot, A hearty giggle coming from the carmel mare.

Cal took another long drag of Ink's cigarette as she made her way back over to him; his drink quickly as filled as his attentions. "Mistah Ink, when're ya gunna stop gawkin' and make me yer mare?!". Ink shook his head dismissively, his long black locks exagerating the movement. " I mean really", she continued, "Errehpony in here knows that you gots the hots fer me! Why dontcha take me back to yer place and let me show 'ya how a Manehatten mare does it, eh?". Ink sighed quietly to himself, quickly swallowing his drink and steeling himself for yet another night of Cal's prodding.

...

"Y'know mistah Ink, Is'sa good thing that'cha live so close." Cal said to no-one in particular; one very drunk unicorn in tow. Ink chuckled happily as he staggered alongside the carmel mare, mumbling incoherently to himself. Periodically Cal could pick out a few words or phrases; every so often setting a heavy blush on her face. If there was one thing she had discovered through two years of dragging Ink back home, it was that he was very fond of her iron kettle cutie mark, and the "Delectably fine" plot that it was attached to.

Leading Ink to a nearby bench, Cal slowly took her place beside him. She shuddered at the feeling of the damp wood's chill against her coat, but shrugged it off against the drunk unicorn next to her. Reaching into Ink's cloak, she deftly pulled out a smoke and Ink's matchbook. With a fizzle and a pop, the small flame took to the tobacco; smoke to her lungs and nicotine to her head. She sighed out a cloud of smoke; attention turned to the inebriated stallion next to her, who was, to little triumph, attempting to light a cigarette of his own. A sputter and a cough accompanied the nasty smell of burnt cotton as Ink brought flame to the filter; slurred curses carried heavily on the wretched smoke. Cal couldn't help but chuckle at him, though it escaped as a little more than a weak sigh.

She pressed herself against him, wrapping his heavy travel cloak around the pair of them. Her muzzle quickly found it's way, burrowing under his hair and nuzzling deeply into his neck. Ink's canvas and liquor smell flooded her brain; subtle hints from his apple cologne barely detectable. Oh, how she enjoyed this; the real reason why she carried Ink home for going on two years slowly creeping it's way back into her mind. She inhaled deeply, letting him slowly bleed into her as she sighed heavily on the exhale.

"Y'know Cal, if you want to come home with me tonight... That'd probably be alright...". The seemingly sobered Ink looked down at the carmel mare; Ice blue eyes carrying a saddened expression. Ink put his foreleg around her and pulled her tighter; a grey aura snatching the half-smoked cigarette and placing it at his lip. His hoof slowly stroked at the mare's long orange mane; stopping at the mint strip to return back to the top. A choked sound came from the Cal, easily discernable as poorly-stifled sobs. Ink took a long drag, releasing the cigarette from his mouth and quickly stamping it out against the

concrete. "On second thought..." Ink started, slowly slinking out from the heavy cloak and into the cold air "Maybe that's not such a good idea... I guess I probably went too far or..."

Smack.

Looking up at him from behind her copper mane, the carmel mare sobbed quietly once more; tears visibly streaking the little bit of makeup that could be found. The smack was akin to being hit with a brick, catching Ink completely and totally off guard. "I've waited... Two... Fucking... Years... For 'ya to say that, Mistah Ink...". Slowly, she rose from her spot on the bench; hooves clacking against the cobblestone as she stalked forward. "Two... Fucking... Years!". She stifled another sob, her forest green eyes staring intently into his startled cyan. A single raindrop fell in the space between them; closed as quickly as the drop had fallen.

Muzzles mashed in a sloppy throw of passion; tongues dancing hastily in the cold night. The familiar tastes of nicotine and gin catalyzed in a way only such tastes could, fueling the hasty kiss with a frenzied sense of bliss. Mutual electricity shot through the pair, an intense wave that arked as their tongues clashed. A light rain fell softly overhead, wetting manes and dampening fur. An eternity passed in the blink of an eye, forcing the pair to break for air. Panting heavily and soaked yet again, the pair leaned against each other in the cold spring rain. The next kiss was swift; as magical as it was brief.

"Mistah Ink, I've right wanted ta do that fer... fer... well hell, since I first layed mah eyes on 'ya... But yer always just so cold 'nd distant with me! 'Was like torture, what havin' 'ta listen to you go on 'bout my plot and how fine it is, knowin' you's was all drunk 'nd I could never get close but... but...". A small sob escaped Cal, sending a shiver down her frame. Her eyes sat affixed to the ground as Ink turned, her head snapping up as his hoof-steps clacked against the stones.

"It's cold, Cal." He said, picking up his cloak and trotting back over to the mare. "And, frankly, you're a bit wit. And I am too. Why don't we go back to my place, yea? We can warm up next to the stove and pass out under mountains of blankets...". The cloak slowly settled along Cal's back; too long and dragging against the ground. Ink leaned in and kissed her forehead, turning briskly and trotting haphazardly down the walk. He looked back, a drunken grin on his face.

"Well, madame... Are you coming?"