NotARealPonydotcom presents
That Magical First Kiss
...Or Something of That Sort.
Starring Rarity and Spike
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The skies over Ponyville were clear of clouds, giving the moon and the stars plenty of room to shine their lights down upon the little town's streets. Had he looked up at any given moment, Spike would have seen an array of bright glimmers in the midnight blue air that he, being the dragon he was, would say looked like diamonds. However, the night sky and its constellations could not have been farther from his mind. No—his eyes stayed focused on a different set of diamonds.
Rarity was ahead of him, trotting along at a comfortable pace while she gabbed about the latest drama in her life. He listened attentively, as he always did, but while his ears took in the sound of her voice, his eyes strayed to the motion of her hips. He focused in particular on the trio of gemstones present on the sides of each of her flanks. He took in every small detail of the cutie mark: the backwards "y" made from the gaps between each of the stones; the glimmer they cast every time they caught the light of the moon or a street lamp; the way they stretched outwards thanks to the generous curve of Rarity's backside, hugging her swaying flanks like a skintight—
Take it easy, Spike, he told himself as he felt a flash of warmth in his cheeks and a shiver run down his spine. Don't ruin this for yourself. He tore his gaze away from her lovely, lovely diamonds and chose to let it rest on the back of her head. To his surprise—and intense embarrassment—he found himself staring directly into a pair of azure eyes. Rarity's sly smile and raised eyebrow told him all he needed to know: he had been caught.
"Finished?" she asked, swishing her tail back and forth teasingly. When she saw that he could not speak to answer her, she let out a girlish giggle and slowed her step, falling in line with the red-faced drake. "No need to be so embarrassed, darling. You're my drakefriend now; you're required to stare at me in awe." She leaned in close to him, stretching her neck a bit to reach his ear-fins. "Besides," she whispered, "it's not as if this is the first time I've caught you staring at my cutie mark." She gave him a quick peck on the cheek, sending him reeling. He brought a claw up to his face and almost spilled over himself.
Drakefriend, he thought, and his face flushed from a reddish-purple mix to a brilliant crimson. My new favorite nickname. He looked down at the unicorn and tried his best to give her a proper smile, but her further giggles made it apparent that he wasn't doing a good job of it. So he turned and tried to force his blush and nervousness away. He had just managed to get his heartbeat steady again when an all-too-gentle brush against his side sent it skyrocketing again.
"Spike," he heard Rarity say, now with a more evident tone of concern, "I mean it. It's alright."
"Y-Yeah," he mumbled back, keeping his eyes averted. He knew there was nothing to be worried about—it wasn't like this was his first date or anything. Actually, it was his third date with Rarity, and it was coming to a close. Which was exactly why he was so... distracted.
It had taken months of working up the gut to do the deed, but finally he'd achieved his goal, a week after Hearts and Hooves Day, of asking her out to dinner. That first date had gone perfectly, so perfectly he often wondered if it was a dream, and the night had ended with a sensual kiss on the cheek from the lovely mare. A week later he asked her out again, and that time, he had given her a good night kiss on the cheek. Those two dinners had made him feel like the luckiest dragon in the world; they'd also made him more determined than ever to stop opportunity from slipping through his claws again. He'd made plans for another dinner, this time with a movie afterwards, and Rarity had happily accepted. Both events went well, though the movie had turned out to be a schlocky, overly-long period piece instead of the dramatic forbidden-love story the poster had advertised, and now they were once more headed for Rarity's abode. With every step they took, their time together grew shorter, as did Spike's window of opportunity to make his final move: he was going to kiss her on the lips this time. He had to.
Why he had to was a reason that had stuck with him since the moment Rarity had first agreed to dinner: he needed their relationship to be real, and a relationship wasn't real until the partners had kissed properly. He'd known that for years, had seen it proven with his own eyes, and now it was his turn to do it. Everything had to be perfect, and that meant that he needed to control himself. He was just barely an adult, still adapting to his latest growth spurt—which had left him just larger than Big Macintosh, a little less muscular than Bulk Biceps, and forced him onto all fours in order to move around properly, he was all too proud to add—and he wasn't going to let the remains of his teenage immaturity ruin his chances at finally having his true love all to himself. He had gone over the plan many times in his head: walk, talk, keep things cheerful all the way to the end, and once they reached Rarity's home, wait for her to say good night. Then...
He took a deep breath and put on a smile, feeling his blush fade. Turning his head back to Rarity, he gave her his most charming look and flashed his pearly whites.
"So," he said, his nervous stammer vanishing for the time being, "you were talking about Bridleway?"
His cheerful tone reassured Rarity, and the white mare smiled with relief, glad to have her dragon grinning again. She followed his lead, returning to her happy, gossipy mood as she spoke:
"Oh, it seems you were listening! Well, I was just saying that Coco's been designing for a new Bridleway show, and she sent me a few tickets for opening night next weekend!"
"That's great! I'm sure the girls'll love hearing that!"
Spike thought he saw Rarity's face redden a little when he said this. She muttered, "Ah, yes. About that..." She seemed to be struggling with her words. "Coco... didn't send seven tickets..."
Spike's ear-fins drooped. "Ah. I see," he chuckled. "Well, I'm sure you six are gonna have a great time."
"She... didn't send six, either, darling..."
He looked at her curiously. "Then what's the problem?"
There was no doubting it now—Rarity was blushing.
"It's not a problem, really..." She looked away at some indeterminate object and took a moment to speak again. "She only sent..."
He tilted his head to get a better look at her and asked, "Was it just one? 'Cause you shouldn't be so worried about it if it is. Twilight and the others will understand."
For a moment, she didn't answer. Her face was completely red now, and he hadn't the faintest clue why. Then, a small smile appeared on her face, and she turned back to him.
"She gave me two tickets, Spike."
They walked in silence, looking at each other as Spike processed the information he'd just received.
"Just two?"
She nodded. "Just two." Again, she turned her head away from him, flicking her mane in a way he found adorable. "And, since I have only one ticket to give away... I wanted to see if... if you wanted it first."
Holy Celestia, he realized, she's nervous. Rarity, the Rarity, is nervous about a colt—er, drake! And I'm that drake!
Not once in his life had he ever seen her act this way around him. Her nervousness had always been restricted to the colts she'd had crushes on back in his first years in Ponyville ("Trenderhoof," he almost hissed with a dramatically-raised fist), so it amazed him to see her act that way around him. Apparently, his powers of romancing worked even better than he thought. Deciding to go ahead with his strong suits, he raised an eyebrow and grinned playfully.
"Why, Rarity, are you asking me out on a date?"
Her head spun around again. Her blush, still violently scarlet, was now accompanied by a cute set of pursed lips.
"Well, if you simply wish to have dinner again, I can give them to—"
She was cut off by his laughter. Before she could chew him out for that as well, he stood up on his hind legs and pulled her into a hug with his front ones in one swift motion. She squeaked, surprised, and heard him speak directly into her ear:
"That sounds fantastic. I'd love to go."
The dragon gave her a peck on the cheek of her own and set her down again. Rarity brought a hoof to the spot where Spike's lips had touched, and as the dragon settled down onto all fours, she licked her lips. He didn't notice this, however, and gestured in the direction they'd been heading. She took the hint, and the two continued on their way.
The rest of the walk home was spent talking about the Bridleway show they would be seeing together. Rarity, with all the letters from Coco she'd gotten over the years, knew nearly everything about the show, and spouted trivia at Spike, who in turn put the knowledge of Bridleway actors he'd gleaned from his last few visits to Manehatten (Twilight went there a lot lately, trying to improve the transportation industry) to good use. Despite the outward appearance that they spent their walk invested in their conversation, they were in reality focused mostly on their own separate, internal dialogues:
I'm going to do it, Rarity thought while telling Spike about the show's lead, an ambitious window washer that rises quickly up the chain of command in his office building with the help of a handy little manual he buys one day.
I can do this, Spike thought as he replied that he'd heard that the stallion playing the lead was famous for a film role he'd had for a decade before choosing to move to Bridleway.
I'm running out of time, she thought as she told him that she'd heard that, too, and that she was hoping to get an autograph when they went to see the show.
Okay, there's her home. It's now or never, he thought while joking that he would be jealous of her if she got the actor's signature.
When they reached the door to the Carousel Boutique, they were both laughing. The laughter died awkwardly as they slowed to a stop, and for a minute the only sound to be heard was the faint breeze that had started up since they'd left the theater.
"I had a lovely night, Spike," Rarity said, brushing her mane aside so that her entire face was visible.
"S-So did I," Spike stammered. He mentally slapped himself, trying to keep his cool. That failed, however, when he saw Rarity sit down instead of heading to her door. He grinned, his cheeks going red again, and Rarity smiled back, her own face tinted slightly pink. It occurred to him that they were only a hoof or so away from each other.
Rarity leaned forward a bit, looking up at him with big, blue eyes. His mouth opened, then shut, then opened again. He sat and stared at her, his mouth only slightly ajar, and he felt his heart thumping in his throat and his gut curdling like milk that Twilight had forgotten to put back in the fridge. His claws began shaking; he prayed to Celestia that she wouldn't notice. He wanted to move, to do what he had sworn he would do, but his muscles had locked up.
He willed himself to lower his head so that he was at eye level with Rarity, and he saw the corners of her mouth turn upward the slightest bit. A second passed in which they merely stared, mesmerizing each other with their vibrant irises. Then Spike's desire took over, and he lunged forward.
Their lips met, and it was the most beautiful moment in the history of everything: electricity between their teeth, shivers down their spines, fireworks shooting off into the air and bursting into dazzling images of his name and her name and a fire ruby in between—
Oh Celestia, they both thought. This is terrible.
Both of their eyes were open: Spike's had never even closed, and Rarity's had shot open the moment she felt something wet on her chin. For whatever reason, Spike had chosen to let his thin, forked tongue hang out before he kissed her, perhaps hoping to catch her with her mouth open. And her mouth was open: it had been forced to by Spike's muzzle as it pressed against her own and pulled her upper lip upwards. The result, combined with the shattered remains of her tiny, hopeful smile, made her appear as though she were sneering against his face. Spike's jaw had dropped a little bit to allow his tongue to slide forward, and with the wet appendage hanging limply against his marefriend's chin, he looked, for all intents and purposes, like he was throwing up an enormous pink slug. Their lips weren't actually touching.
That was reality.
Rarity felt something dribble down her chin. Her eye twitched, and Spike saw the danger approaching in her rapidly shrinking pupils. A noise erupted from her throat—a mix of Granny Smith croaking "EH?" and a duck choking—and they both yanked away from each other at almost sonic speeds. It had lasted three seconds.
And it was horrible. For. Everyone.
Oh Faust! Spike screamed in his head as he spun around and slapped his hands to his face. What's the matter with me? Years and years leading up to this moment, practicing on your pillow, reading the entire Pony Sutra twice, and this is what you do? A pony-ing tongue malfunction?
He realized that his tongue was still lolling out of his mouth, and he let out a sob before dragging it back behind his fangs.
I soiled it. It's over. We could never—not now. Oh Celestia, it's all over! Stupid stupid stupid—
Rarity, meanwhile, had followed Spike's lead, spinning around and planting her front hooves over her mouth. She choked back the gags she desperately wanted to let loose. Tears were welling in her eyes, but a faint glow from her horn made them vanish. Spike certainly didn't need to see those.
Oh sweet mother of Celestia, she thought, I thought—Well, I don't know what I thought! I wasn't thinking of what he'd be like, as a kisser! I didn't even consider that he might have never kissed a mare before, I was so caught up in the moment! Her eyes grew even wider as it occurred to her that she'd gagged against his mouth. Oh, what have I done? He must think I hate him now! Oh, please, Celestia, don't let this ruin everything, please! Not when I might have finally gotten a proper colt—er, drakefriend! Please!
These mental ravings went on for some minutes. When Rarity's had settled enough for her to stop gagging, she composed herself as best as she could and turned back to Spike, who was still facing away from her and gripping his head. She let out a small, ladylike cough. A flicker from his ear-fins told her he was listening.
"Well then," she said shakily, "I'll be by tomorrow to give you your ticket for the show. We can go pick up train tickets then, too."
It seemed for a second that he had not heard her. Then he turned to look at her. The expression on his face had only one word that could describe it properly: pathetic.
"Th-The tickets?"
"Yes, dear. I invited you, remember?"
He blinked a few times, slowly.
"Even though—"
"Spike," she said sternly. "I hope you realize that I'm not going to let a free Bridleway ticket go to waste because of one silly mishap." She held her head up, and gave a little smile. "I'm not that kind of pony."
"But I—"
"Spike, I will not take 'no' for an answer. I am taking my drakefriend to Manehatten next weekend, and that's final."
He didn't look as pathetic now. Only lost. "I'm... still your drakefriend?"
"Of course you are!" She put a hoof to her chest. "What makes you think that you're not?"
"But that kiss—"
"—was nothing to judge our relationship by," she finished. She could feel blood rushing to her cheeks, despite her confident tone. "We make a fine couple, kisses or no." She brought her head down to lock eyes with her dragon. "And besides..." She did her best to fight the returning nervousness in her. "...We can always practice."
At this, Spike's face turned a strange shade of red. His jaw dropped.
"P-Practice?"
"Yes." Her face was no longer white. "We'll have p-plenty of practice..."
She trailed off. The drake and the mare stared at each other. Both were too embarrassed by their actions to say or do anything at that moment, and the silence steadily grew more and more awkward. Rarity tapped her hooves on the ground, waiting for some sort of response. Spike opened and shut his mouth a few times, but never spoke. Finally, the quiet became too much, and Rarity decided it was time to call it a day.
"Welp, goodnight!" she blurted, giving him a small, unladylike shrug. Then she trotted over to her door and entered her home, leaving her drakefriend sitting outside. He was still for a few moments, lost in thought. What she'd told him rang in his mind, and it would for the next week and a half, from the moment he woke up the next morning to the moment they stepped out of the Bridleway theater onto the rainy streets of Manehatten.
Plenty of practice.
It seemed he had been wrong: there didn't need to be a proper first kiss for a relationship to be real. There was something, something that he couldn't exactly identify, but whatever it was, he and Rarity had it. This he was certain of, because if they didn't have it, this would have been the last time they ever spoke to each other.
Eventually, he got up and started back towards the Golden Oak Library. By the time he was back on the main streets of town, he was grinning from ear-fin-to-ear-fin. His tail stood rigid, sticking out behind him like a spear.
"Plenty of practice," he repeated. "Can't wait."
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Rarity leaned against the door and listened. She heard Spike shift, then the sound of his claws hitting the ground. She waited for them to fade, and once she was certain he was nowhere near the Boutique anymore, she let out her breath in a loud, rude sigh. Her face, beet red when she'd shut the door in Spike's face, began to fade back to its natural brilliant tone. She slid down the door, sitting on her flanks with her head up against it. Her foreleg rested across her forehead, and she stared up at the ceiling of the Boutique, wondering why it was that Celestia had chosen her to have to deal with that awkward situation. Her hoof trailed down to her chin, and she felt fur that was still damp from her drakefriend's tongue. Despite it all, she laughed, and smiled widely and tiredly up at the ceiling.
"What have I gotten myself into?" she asked the empty boutique. Then she got up and headed upstairs, where her shower and bed awaited her.
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THE END
Author's Note
Dear Readers,
God, I just can't quit this world! It's too much fun!
I actually helped to create the cover art for this story. I put the idea of what Spike and Rarity's first kiss might have been like in Kilala's head, and instead of making it a cliche super-romantic perfect kiss at sunset (which, don't get me wrong, I'm a sucker for), she thought of something a little different. Actually, it's kinda exactly the opposite of that. The end result of all this is what you've just read and the image that may-or-may-not have enticed you to read it in the first place.
Thanks, of course, go out to Ms. Kilala, for being the one responsible for it all. Her artwork's really stepped into the limelight lately—I've seen at least five other stories based on her next generation world and characters, and she's even got her own fan group (of which I am a proud member). This community never ceases to make me smile.
Like I said before, I'm really interested in the world she's built up, so this probably won't be the last story you see inspired by her work. Take that news any way you like.
And finally, yes, I made a premature Trenderhoof joke. I actually find it really funny how much panic this is causing. I'm a bit terrible that way. Peace!
—NotARealPonydotcom
P.S. I'm sure you all know what musical Spike and Rarity were talking about on their walk home...
